A Franciscan Benediction

I am still ploughing my way through Philip Yancey‘s book Prayer: Does It Make Any Difference? About a week ago on page 102 I found this benediction. Yancey sourced it here but says it is also available elsewhere on the web. I used it at a Pastoral Committee last week. Hope you like it.

May God bless you with discomfort
At easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships
So that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger
At injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people,
So that you may work for justice, freedom and peace.

May God bless you with tears
To shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger and war,
So that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and
To turn their pain into joy.

And may God bless you with enough foolishness
To believe that you can make a difference in the world,
So that you can do what others claim cannot be done
To bring justice and kindness to all our children.

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Tomorrow’s Sermon: Discipleship In The World

Luke 5:1-11

Introduction
If we pluck up the courage to invite someone to consider
Christianity, what is our typical response? ‘Come to church.’ Or, ‘Come to this
meeting with me.’ So churches have put on evangelistic services or ‘guest
services’; groups of churches have organised evangelistic crusades. We hold a
programme of meetings at the church, and so on.

And if someone wants to train and study further as a
Christian – either to explore further or because they feel ‘called’ to
something – what do we do? We recommend they go away to college.

Suppose I were to say that Jesus’ methods of discipleship
were nothing like this? No ‘come to church’ or ‘go to college’ for him. Jesus
founded a discipleship school that took place not in church, nor at a religious
event or in a college. The discipleship school of Jesus was held in the world, in the midst
of life with all its hurly-burly and mess.

I do not disdain our church meetings and I do not despise
the fact that I went to theological college – after all, I went to two colleges
(although the less said about my Methodist college the better). There is an
important place for discipleship that happens within the Christian community.
But if we limit our vision to that we miss an important strand of Jesus’
strategy: discipleship happens in the world. Here in our Gospel story is Jesus
doing precisely that at the lakeside, where Simon and his friends plied their
trade. This is discipleship at the office.

And so this morning I’d like to explore with you some of the
simple ways in which Jesus disciples us in the world.

1. Teaching in the World
Jesus ‘sat down’ (verse 3) – the classic posture of the
Jewish rabbi. We are used to preachers standing, but the rabbi’s sign of
authority to teach was that he sat down.

But where did he sit down? To read the full sentence, ‘Then
he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat.’ (verse 3) Not in the
synagogue, in the boat. Imagine a crowd following him through the centre of Chelmsford, along the
High Street and into Duke Street. Jesus then strides into County Hall. The throng keeps following him. He finds his way into the Highways Department where he spots a few friends, sits down in the middle of an office where they are talking about reducing congestion by increasing the capacity of the Park and Ride scheme, and causes his own congestion by gathering everyone around him there to talk about the kingdom of God.

Is that ridiculous? But it’s a modern equivalent to what
Jesus did when ‘he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat.’ It only seems
crazy because we don’t think we’ve witnessed anything like that ourselves.

But what we don’t realise is that Jesus is still doing the
same today, invisibly by his Spirit. He is present in the world, creating
opportunities for us to learn of him and put it into practice, every bit as
much in the world as at church. Our expectations have not led us to expect
this, though. The Spirit goes ahead of us to sit in the boat and teach us what
it means to be a disciple of Jesus.

And is this not why Jesus uses images from everyday working
life in his teaching? We remark on the way parables are set in a farming
context – but that was typical work for many in his society. Surely one of the
reasons Jesus does this is because he is locating his teaching not in abstract
philosophy but rather he is teaching us his ways in and through our life in the
world, not just our life in church.

My most vivid experience of this happened when I was a civil
servant. Much against my personal instincts, the office was a learning place
because I had a distinct call to take up the job of the office union secretary.
It was not what I wanted: I didn’t want to be labelled a militant, and I didn’t
fancy the thought of difficult negotiations with the management, bearing in
mind this was the era of Margaret Thatcher and she used the civil service as a
political football every bit as much as subsequent Prime Ministers have used
the teaching profession – and, worse, the children at our schools.

But my call to serve God by taking up that union post was
clearer than my call to be a Local Preacher. It came as I read the familiar
story of Moses and Aaron going before Pharaoh with the cry, ‘Let my people go.’
‘Let my people go’ came to have a different meaning for me, but one that was no
less clear. With fear and trembling I accepted the nomination and got involved
as a Christian. The office was to be the place where I learned the application
of Scripture for me.

Perhaps it is for similar reasons that in 1 Corinthians
7:17, Paul says that his rule in all the churches is, ‘let each of you lead the
life that the Lord has assigned, to which God called you.’ Whatever your place
in life is, unless God directs you otherwise, stay there. This is the place he
has assigned for you to learn of him.

2. Transformation in the World
‘When he had finished speaking’ (verse 4): Jesus had
finished teaching. Hadn’t he?

No. The lesson was only just beginning for his prospective
disciples. ‘Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch,’
says Jesus to Simon (verse 4). And Simon replies with famous, pregnant words:
‘Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say
so, I will let down the nets.’ (verse 5) The result? So many fish that their
nets break and they have to call for the second boat, and even then it’s a
struggle (verses 6-7).

Jesus transforms the hard, fruitless toil of the fishermen. Wouldn’t
we just love that? How often does our work or daily life seem pointless – or
worse? Life drains the life out of us. Conflict, greed and power games leave us
despairing. Or we put our heart and soul into our work and see none of the
fruit that would be sufficient reward for us.

But when Jesus says, ‘Put out into the deep water,’ he is
offering hope. It doesn’t have to be this way. And I can feel Simon starting to
doubt and disbelieve Jesus. ‘Master, we have worked all night long but have
caught nothing.’ It’s as if Simon is saying, ‘Jesus, we are the fishermen, we know
our trade. You are a carpenter. What do you know about fishing?’

But he stops. He has called Jesus ‘Master’. And so he
changes tack. ‘Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.’ And when he does,
the transformation comes.

Simon’s decision to let down the nets is an act of crazy
obedience. They had fished all night – the best time – but caught nothing. But
he obeys this carpenter – this ‘more than a carpenter’ – and now he and his
business partners are so weighed down with blessing they nearly sink.

It’s not as some Christians might make you think that the
crazier the act of faith the more likely it is to be truly spiritual. It is a
simple case of saying to Jesus, I don’t understand but you know best.

And it’s not that obeying what he says automatically makes
work and the everyday world a fun place to be. Our fallen universe is located
east of Eden and in the wake of sin the tilling of the ground by Adam’s race is subject to
frustration. But blessing is possible from time to time, and purpose certainly
is possible. What do I mean? Perhaps this will help.

Graham
Dow
, the Bishop
of Carlisle
, used to lecture Anglican ordinands. He reflected in a
book
about the essays he used to ask ordinands to write about their previous employment. What divine purpose for human beings was seen in that occupation? Where did sin afflict the relationships and structures in that employment? Was the organisation’s purpose consistent with God’s kingdom? But he said their understanding of God’s call didn’t get beyond ‘getting to work on time, not pinching the office stationery and witnessing about Christ to those they worked alongside.’ (p3)

Dow said, however, that in biblical terms there were three
potential good purposes for work. The first was ‘creative management of God’s
world’, the second was ‘moral management for the good of all’ and the third was
‘a community of good relationships.’

Too often in our churches we think the only occupations
worthy of prayer are ministers, missionaries, doctors and teachers (because
each in some way has a parallel in the life of Jesus). But Jesus wants to
transform our entire life in the world, even if we still live with the
frustrations of sin. It may be in a paid occupation, it may be in serving the
community or it may be in the way we mix socially with people. ‘Put out into
deep water,’ he says. ‘Take the risk of trusting your everyday life and work to
me. And let me transform it, because I want to meet you as much there as I do
in church.’

3. Training in the World
A member in a previous church I served had been confirmed by
my predecessor. At the confirmation service, when he laid hands on her and
prayed for the Holy Spirit to confirm her faith, she had a powerful experience
of the Spirit. But she got scared, and never wanted anything to do with talk of
the Holy Spirit afterwards.

What happened to that woman in a church context seems
similar to what happened to Simon in our story. Jesus does something wonderful,
powerful, mystifying and disturbing in directing him to the overwhelming catch
of fish. Simon says, ‘Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!’ (verse 8).
James and John are as amazed (and disturbed?) as he is (verses 9-10).

But Jesus in reply says, ‘I’m not going away – you’re coming
with me.’ Or as we know it better, ‘Do not be afraid; from now on you will be
catching people’ (verse 10). And off they went with him (verse 11).

Perhaps you sang, ‘I will make you fishers of men, fishers
of men, fishers of men, I will make you fishers of men if you follow me’ when
you were younger. Whatever my childhood memories of this story I now find the
most important aspect to be the fact that Jesus linked Simon, James and John’s
professional background as fishermen to the call he placed on their lives. Their
prior experience was important for their future discipleship.

It might not be the first example in the Bible of someone’s
ordinary daily working life being a foundation for the call of God when it
came. In the Tuesday morning Bible study group we are currently looking at the
Psalms. Last week we looked at the twenty-third Psalm. While that Psalm is not
explicitly attributed to David, what if it were? It contains images both of a
shepherd (which David was) and of kingship – ‘You prepare a table before me in
the presence of my enemies’ – another aspect of David’s life. I challenged the
group to find images for God and his work from their life experiences. It’s a
scriptural thing to do, but we’re not used to it because we have wrongly
confined our experience of Christ teaching us to church. What if we expanded
our vision?

Looking back I can see some ways in which prior experiences
which had no obvious religious dimension became foundations for my call into
ordained ministry. One was that time as the union secretary. Here is one story.
The details became public: I am not betraying a confidence.

A young woman in the office was struggling with her work and
she knew her manager was displeased with her efforts. She came to me for help,
fearing discipline or worse. She spilled out her story, explaining what had
been affecting her work. She had been dating a young man from the office and
they had gone away on holiday to Majorca. While they were there she discovered he was bisexual. When she confronted him with this he beat her senseless and she woke in a hospital where she knew no Spanish and the staff knew no English. It would have been bad enough for anyone, but now she was back at the office and had to see this (by now former) boyfriend every day.

With my support she recounted this to senior management, who were  immediately more sympathetic to her and offered support, not criticism. It was my first major experience of coming alongside someone in a life crisis. I don’t pretend I’m great at it, but just as I brought that young woman to management so now I bring others to an even more compassionate heavenly Father.

The other experience was a few years later. While still at work I had three times one summer suffered from a collapsed lung. I should have had surgery the third time but the consultant was on holiday. I then went over three years without a recurrence. By the time it happened again I was doing my first Theology degree. I was taken to Casualty at the Bristol Royal Infirmary and told I would have to attend another hospital in Bristol, early the next week, for an appointment where my operation would be confirmed.

When I got back to college from Casualty I learned that a friend of mine’s father had been visiting. His father was a retired vicar with a healing ministry. How I wanted this man to pray for me that I might be healed and not have to face surgery. But Mark’s parents had left by the time I
returned. I had to have the operation. Eleven days in hospital, four weeks’ convalescence from college and three months before I was fully fit. Much as I didn’t want that surgery I frequently remember it now when I visit someone in hospital. You may not want to be there, either. You might not like the treatment or operation you have had. God allowed me that unwanted experience for the sake of future pastoral ministry. The union work and the hospital ward were as much part of my training as the college classroom.

Conclusion
What, then, are your expectations as you leave ‘church’ this morning and go home? Is it that you have had your weekly meeting with Jesus and
now you must slog through a Godforsaken world for six more days? May I urge you to see that Jesus is not confined to the church building?

Or is your response one of knowing that while living in a fallen world is far from easy it is the same world Jesus inhabited in the flesh and where his Spirit meets us today? If so, you can grow in your discipleship between now and next Sunday, or between now and a midweek church meeting. Who will embrace the possibilities of Jesus discipling them in the wilds of the
world?

Technorati Tags: , , , , , ,

Tomorrow’s Sermon: Discipleship In The World

Luke 5:1-11

Introduction
If we pluck up the courage to invite someone to consider
Christianity, what is our typical response? ‘Come to church.’ Or, ‘Come to this
meeting with me.’ So churches have put on evangelistic services or ‘guest
services’; groups of churches have organised evangelistic crusades. We hold a
programme of meetings at the church, and so on.

And if someone wants to train and study further as a
Christian – either to explore further or because they feel ‘called’ to
something – what do we do? We recommend they go away to college.

Suppose I were to say that Jesus’ methods of discipleship
were nothing like this? No ‘come to church’ or ‘go to college’ for him. Jesus
founded a discipleship school that took place not in church, nor at a religious
event or in a college. The discipleship school of Jesus was held in the world, in the midst
of life with all its hurly-burly and mess.

I do not disdain our church meetings and I do not despise
the fact that I went to theological college – after all, I went to two colleges
(although the less said about my Methodist college the better). There is an
important place for discipleship that happens within the Christian community.
But if we limit our vision to that we miss an important strand of Jesus’
strategy: discipleship happens in the world. Here in our Gospel story is Jesus
doing precisely that at the lakeside, where Simon and his friends plied their
trade. This is discipleship at the office.

And so this morning I’d like to explore with you some of the
simple ways in which Jesus disciples us in the world.

1. Teaching in the World
Jesus ‘sat down’ (verse 3) – the classic posture of the
Jewish rabbi. We are used to preachers standing, but the rabbi’s sign of
authority to teach was that he sat down.

But where did he sit down? To read the full sentence, ‘Then
he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat.’ (verse 3) Not in the
synagogue, in the boat. Imagine a crowd following him through the centre of Chelmsford, along the
High Street and into Duke Street. Jesus then strides into County Hall. The throng keeps following him. He finds his way into the Highways Department where he spots a few friends, sits down in the middle of an office where they are talking about reducing congestion by increasing the capacity of the Park and Ride scheme, and causes his own congestion by gathering everyone around him there to talk about the kingdom of God.

Is that ridiculous? But it’s a modern equivalent to what
Jesus did when ‘he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat.’ It only seems
crazy because we don’t think we’ve witnessed anything like that ourselves.

But what we don’t realise is that Jesus is still doing the
same today, invisibly by his Spirit. He is present in the world, creating
opportunities for us to learn of him and put it into practice, every bit as
much in the world as at church. Our expectations have not led us to expect
this, though. The Spirit goes ahead of us to sit in the boat and teach us what
it means to be a disciple of Jesus.

And is this not why Jesus uses images from everyday working
life in his teaching? We remark on the way parables are set in a farming
context – but that was typical work for many in his society. Surely one of the
reasons Jesus does this is because he is locating his teaching not in abstract
philosophy but rather he is teaching us his ways in and through our life in the
world, not just our life in church.

My most vivid experience of this happened when I was a civil
servant. Much against my personal instincts, the office was a learning place
because I had a distinct call to take up the job of the office union secretary.
It was not what I wanted: I didn’t want to be labelled a militant, and I didn’t
fancy the thought of difficult negotiations with the management, bearing in
mind this was the era of Margaret Thatcher and she used the civil service as a
political football every bit as much as subsequent Prime Ministers have used
the teaching profession – and, worse, the children at our schools.

But my call to serve God by taking up that union post was
clearer than my call to be a Local Preacher. It came as I read the familiar
story of Moses and Aaron going before Pharaoh with the cry, ‘Let my people go.’
‘Let my people go’ came to have a different meaning for me, but one that was no
less clear. With fear and trembling I accepted the nomination and got involved
as a Christian. The office was to be the place where I learned the application
of Scripture for me.

Perhaps it is for similar reasons that in 1 Corinthians
7:17, Paul says that his rule in all the churches is, ‘let each of you lead the
life that the Lord has assigned, to which God called you.’ Whatever your place
in life is, unless God directs you otherwise, stay there. This is the place he
has assigned for you to learn of him.

2. Transformation in the World
‘When he had finished speaking’ (verse 4): Jesus had
finished teaching. Hadn’t he?

No. The lesson was only just beginning for his prospective
disciples. ‘Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch,’
says Jesus to Simon (verse 4). And Simon replies with famous, pregnant words:
‘Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say
so, I will let down the nets.’ (verse 5) The result? So many fish that their
nets break and they have to call for the second boat, and even then it’s a
struggle (verses 6-7).

Jesus transforms the hard, fruitless toil of the fishermen. Wouldn’t
we just love that? How often does our work or daily life seem pointless – or
worse? Life drains the life out of us. Conflict, greed and power games leave us
despairing. Or we put our heart and soul into our work and see none of the
fruit that would be sufficient reward for us.

But when Jesus says, ‘Put out into the deep water,’ he is
offering hope. It doesn’t have to be this way. And I can feel Simon starting to
doubt and disbelieve Jesus. ‘Master, we have worked all night long but have
caught nothing.’ It’s as if Simon is saying, ‘Jesus, we are the fishermen, we know
our trade. You are a carpenter. What do you know about fishing?’

But he stops. He has called Jesus ‘Master’. And so he
changes tack. ‘Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.’ And when he does,
the transformation comes.

Simon’s decision to let down the nets is an act of crazy
obedience. They had fished all night – the best time – but caught nothing. But
he obeys this carpenter – this ‘more than a carpenter’ – and now he and his
business partners are so weighed down with blessing they nearly sink.

It’s not as some Christians might make you think that the
crazier the act of faith the more likely it is to be truly spiritual. It is a
simple case of saying to Jesus, I don’t understand but you know best.

And it’s not that obeying what he says automatically makes
work and the everyday world a fun place to be. Our fallen universe is located
east of Eden and in the wake of sin the tilling of the ground by Adam’s race is subject to
frustration. But blessing is possible from time to time, and purpose certainly
is possible. What do I mean? Perhaps this will help.

Graham
Dow
, the Bishop
of Carlisle
, used to lecture Anglican ordinands. He reflected in a
book
about the essays he used to ask ordinands to write about their previous employment. What divine purpose for human beings was seen in that occupation? Where did sin afflict the relationships and structures in that employment? Was the organisation’s purpose consistent with God’s kingdom? But he said their understanding of God’s call didn’t get beyond ‘getting to work on time, not pinching the office stationery and witnessing about Christ to those they worked alongside.’ (p3)

Dow said, however, that in biblical terms there were three
potential good purposes for work. The first was ‘creative management of God’s
world’, the second was ‘moral management for the good of all’ and the third was
‘a community of good relationships.’

Too often in our churches we think the only occupations
worthy of prayer are ministers, missionaries, doctors and teachers (because
each in some way has a parallel in the life of Jesus). But Jesus wants to
transform our entire life in the world, even if we still live with the
frustrations of sin. It may be in a paid occupation, it may be in serving the
community or it may be in the way we mix socially with people. ‘Put out into
deep water,’ he says. ‘Take the risk of trusting your everyday life and work to
me. And let me transform it, because I want to meet you as much there as I do
in church.’

3. Training in the World
A member in a previous church I served had been confirmed by
my predecessor. At the confirmation service, when he laid hands on her and
prayed for the Holy Spirit to confirm her faith, she had a powerful experience
of the Spirit. But she got scared, and never wanted anything to do with talk of
the Holy Spirit afterwards.

What happened to that woman in a church context seems
similar to what happened to Simon in our story. Jesus does something wonderful,
powerful, mystifying and disturbing in directing him to the overwhelming catch
of fish. Simon says, ‘Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!’ (verse 8).
James and John are as amazed (and disturbed?) as he is (verses 9-10).

But Jesus in reply says, ‘I’m not going away – you’re coming
with me.’ Or as we know it better, ‘Do not be afraid; from now on you will be
catching people’ (verse 10). And off they went with him (verse 11).

Perhaps you sang, ‘I will make you fishers of men, fishers
of men, fishers of men, I will make you fishers of men if you follow me’ when
you were younger. Whatever my childhood memories of this story I now find the
most important aspect to be the fact that Jesus linked Simon, James and John’s
professional background as fishermen to the call he placed on their lives. Their
prior experience was important for their future discipleship.

It might not be the first example in the Bible of someone’s
ordinary daily working life being a foundation for the call of God when it
came. In the Tuesday morning Bible study group we are currently looking at the
Psalms. Last week we looked at the twenty-third Psalm. While that Psalm is not
explicitly attributed to David, what if it were? It contains images both of a
shepherd (which David was) and of kingship – ‘You prepare a table before me in
the presence of my enemies’ – another aspect of David’s life. I challenged the
group to find images for God and his work from their life experiences. It’s a
scriptural thing to do, but we’re not used to it because we have wrongly
confined our experience of Christ teaching us to church. What if we expanded
our vision?

Looking back I can see some ways in which prior experiences
which had no obvious religious dimension became foundations for my call into
ordained ministry. One was that time as the union secretary. Here is one story.
The details became public: I am not betraying a confidence.

A young woman in the office was struggling with her work and
she knew her manager was displeased with her efforts. She came to me for help,
fearing discipline or worse. She spilled out her story, explaining what had
been affecting her work. She had been dating a young man from the office and
they had gone away on holiday to Majorca. While they were there she discovered he was bisexual. When she confronted him with this he beat her senseless and she woke in a hospital where she knew no Spanish and the staff knew no English. It would have been bad enough for anyone, but now she was back at the office and had to see this (by now former) boyfriend every day.

With my support she recounted this to senior management, who were  immediately more sympathetic to her and offered support, not criticism. It was my first major experience of coming alongside someone in a life crisis. I don’t pretend I’m great at it, but just as I brought that young woman to management so now I bring others to an even more compassionate heavenly Father.

The other experience was a few years later. While still at work I had three times one summer suffered from a collapsed lung. I should have had surgery the third time but the consultant was on holiday. I then went over three years without a recurrence. By the time it happened again I was doing my first Theology degree. I was taken to Casualty at the Bristol Royal Infirmary and told I would have to attend another hospital in Bristol, early the next week, for an appointment where my operation would be confirmed.

When I got back to college from Casualty I learned that a friend of mine’s father had been visiting. His father was a retired vicar with a healing ministry. How I wanted this man to pray for me that I might be healed and not have to face surgery. But Mark’s parents had left by the time I
returned. I had to have the operation. Eleven days in hospital, four weeks’ convalescence from college and three months before I was fully fit. Much as I didn’t want that surgery I frequently remember it now when I visit someone in hospital. You may not want to be there, either. You might not like the treatment or operation you have had. God allowed me that unwanted experience for the sake of future pastoral ministry. The union work and the hospital ward were as much part of my training as the college classroom.

Conclusion
What, then, are your expectations as you leave ‘church’ this morning and go home? Is it that you have had your weekly meeting with Jesus and
now you must slog through a Godforsaken world for six more days? May I urge you to see that Jesus is not confined to the church building?

Or is your response one of knowing that while living in a fallen world is far from easy it is the same world Jesus inhabited in the flesh and where his Spirit meets us today? If so, you can grow in your discipleship between now and next Sunday, or between now and a midweek church meeting. Who will embrace the possibilities of Jesus discipling them in the wilds of the
world?

Technorati Tags: , , , , , ,

Tomorrow’s Sermon: Discipleship In The World

Luke 5:1-11

Introduction
If we pluck up the courage to invite someone to consider
Christianity, what is our typical response? ‘Come to church.’ Or, ‘Come to this
meeting with me.’ So churches have put on evangelistic services or ‘guest
services’; groups of churches have organised evangelistic crusades. We hold a
programme of meetings at the church, and so on.

And if someone wants to train and study further as a
Christian – either to explore further or because they feel ‘called’ to
something – what do we do? We recommend they go away to college.

Suppose I were to say that Jesus’ methods of discipleship
were nothing like this? No ‘come to church’ or ‘go to college’ for him. Jesus
founded a discipleship school that took place not in church, nor at a religious
event or in a college. The discipleship school of Jesus was held in the world, in the midst
of life with all its hurly-burly and mess.

I do not disdain our church meetings and I do not despise
the fact that I went to theological college – after all, I went to two colleges
(although the less said about my Methodist college the better). There is an
important place for discipleship that happens within the Christian community.
But if we limit our vision to that we miss an important strand of Jesus’
strategy: discipleship happens in the world. Here in our Gospel story is Jesus
doing precisely that at the lakeside, where Simon and his friends plied their
trade. This is discipleship at the office.

And so this morning I’d like to explore with you some of the
simple ways in which Jesus disciples us in the world.

1. Teaching in the World
Jesus ‘sat down’ (verse 3) – the classic posture of the
Jewish rabbi. We are used to preachers standing, but the rabbi’s sign of
authority to teach was that he sat down.

But where did he sit down? To read the full sentence, ‘Then
he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat.’ (verse 3) Not in the
synagogue, in the boat. Imagine a crowd following him through the centre of Chelmsford, along the
High Street and into Duke Street. Jesus then strides into County Hall. The throng keeps following him. He finds his way into the Highways Department where he spots a few friends, sits down in the middle of an office where they are talking about reducing congestion by increasing the capacity of the Park and Ride scheme, and causes his own congestion by gathering everyone around him there to talk about the kingdom of God.

Is that ridiculous? But it’s a modern equivalent to what
Jesus did when ‘he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat.’ It only seems
crazy because we don’t think we’ve witnessed anything like that ourselves.

But what we don’t realise is that Jesus is still doing the
same today, invisibly by his Spirit. He is present in the world, creating
opportunities for us to learn of him and put it into practice, every bit as
much in the world as at church. Our expectations have not led us to expect
this, though. The Spirit goes ahead of us to sit in the boat and teach us what
it means to be a disciple of Jesus.

And is this not why Jesus uses images from everyday working
life in his teaching? We remark on the way parables are set in a farming
context – but that was typical work for many in his society. Surely one of the
reasons Jesus does this is because he is locating his teaching not in abstract
philosophy but rather he is teaching us his ways in and through our life in the
world, not just our life in church.

My most vivid experience of this happened when I was a civil
servant. Much against my personal instincts, the office was a learning place
because I had a distinct call to take up the job of the office union secretary.
It was not what I wanted: I didn’t want to be labelled a militant, and I didn’t
fancy the thought of difficult negotiations with the management, bearing in
mind this was the era of Margaret Thatcher and she used the civil service as a
political football every bit as much as subsequent Prime Ministers have used
the teaching profession – and, worse, the children at our schools.

But my call to serve God by taking up that union post was
clearer than my call to be a Local Preacher. It came as I read the familiar
story of Moses and Aaron going before Pharaoh with the cry, ‘Let my people go.’
‘Let my people go’ came to have a different meaning for me, but one that was no
less clear. With fear and trembling I accepted the nomination and got involved
as a Christian. The office was to be the place where I learned the application
of Scripture for me.

Perhaps it is for similar reasons that in 1 Corinthians
7:17, Paul says that his rule in all the churches is, ‘let each of you lead the
life that the Lord has assigned, to which God called you.’ Whatever your place
in life is, unless God directs you otherwise, stay there. This is the place he
has assigned for you to learn of him.

2. Transformation in the World
‘When he had finished speaking’ (verse 4): Jesus had
finished teaching. Hadn’t he?

No. The lesson was only just beginning for his prospective
disciples. ‘Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch,’
says Jesus to Simon (verse 4). And Simon replies with famous, pregnant words:
‘Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say
so, I will let down the nets.’ (verse 5) The result? So many fish that their
nets break and they have to call for the second boat, and even then it’s a
struggle (verses 6-7).

Jesus transforms the hard, fruitless toil of the fishermen. Wouldn’t
we just love that? How often does our work or daily life seem pointless – or
worse? Life drains the life out of us. Conflict, greed and power games leave us
despairing. Or we put our heart and soul into our work and see none of the
fruit that would be sufficient reward for us.

But when Jesus says, ‘Put out into the deep water,’ he is
offering hope. It doesn’t have to be this way. And I can feel Simon starting to
doubt and disbelieve Jesus. ‘Master, we have worked all night long but have
caught nothing.’ It’s as if Simon is saying, ‘Jesus, we are the fishermen, we know
our trade. You are a carpenter. What do you know about fishing?’

But he stops. He has called Jesus ‘Master’. And so he
changes tack. ‘Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.’ And when he does,
the transformation comes.

Simon’s decision to let down the nets is an act of crazy
obedience. They had fished all night – the best time – but caught nothing. But
he obeys this carpenter – this ‘more than a carpenter’ – and now he and his
business partners are so weighed down with blessing they nearly sink.

It’s not as some Christians might make you think that the
crazier the act of faith the more likely it is to be truly spiritual. It is a
simple case of saying to Jesus, I don’t understand but you know best.

And it’s not that obeying what he says automatically makes
work and the everyday world a fun place to be. Our fallen universe is located
east of Eden and in the wake of sin the tilling of the ground by Adam’s race is subject to
frustration. But blessing is possible from time to time, and purpose certainly
is possible. What do I mean? Perhaps this will help.

Graham
Dow
, the Bishop
of Carlisle
, used to lecture Anglican ordinands. He reflected in a
book
about the essays he used to ask ordinands to write about their previous employment. What divine purpose for human beings was seen in that occupation? Where did sin afflict the relationships and structures in that employment? Was the organisation’s purpose consistent with God’s kingdom? But he said their understanding of God’s call didn’t get beyond ‘getting to work on time, not pinching the office stationery and witnessing about Christ to those they worked alongside.’ (p3)

Dow said, however, that in biblical terms there were three
potential good purposes for work. The first was ‘creative management of God’s
world’, the second was ‘moral management for the good of all’ and the third was
‘a community of good relationships.’

Too often in our churches we think the only occupations
worthy of prayer are ministers, missionaries, doctors and teachers (because
each in some way has a parallel in the life of Jesus). But Jesus wants to
transform our entire life in the world, even if we still live with the
frustrations of sin. It may be in a paid occupation, it may be in serving the
community or it may be in the way we mix socially with people. ‘Put out into
deep water,’ he says. ‘Take the risk of trusting your everyday life and work to
me. And let me transform it, because I want to meet you as much there as I do
in church.’

3. Training in the World
A member in a previous church I served had been confirmed by
my predecessor. At the confirmation service, when he laid hands on her and
prayed for the Holy Spirit to confirm her faith, she had a powerful experience
of the Spirit. But she got scared, and never wanted anything to do with talk of
the Holy Spirit afterwards.

What happened to that woman in a church context seems
similar to what happened to Simon in our story. Jesus does something wonderful,
powerful, mystifying and disturbing in directing him to the overwhelming catch
of fish. Simon says, ‘Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!’ (verse 8).
James and John are as amazed (and disturbed?) as he is (verses 9-10).

But Jesus in reply says, ‘I’m not going away – you’re coming
with me.’ Or as we know it better, ‘Do not be afraid; from now on you will be
catching people’ (verse 10). And off they went with him (verse 11).

Perhaps you sang, ‘I will make you fishers of men, fishers
of men, fishers of men, I will make you fishers of men if you follow me’ when
you were younger. Whatever my childhood memories of this story I now find the
most important aspect to be the fact that Jesus linked Simon, James and John’s
professional background as fishermen to the call he placed on their lives. Their
prior experience was important for their future discipleship.

It might not be the first example in the Bible of someone’s
ordinary daily working life being a foundation for the call of God when it
came. In the Tuesday morning Bible study group we are currently looking at the
Psalms. Last week we looked at the twenty-third Psalm. While that Psalm is not
explicitly attributed to David, what if it were? It contains images both of a
shepherd (which David was) and of kingship – ‘You prepare a table before me in
the presence of my enemies’ – another aspect of David’s life. I challenged the
group to find images for God and his work from their life experiences. It’s a
scriptural thing to do, but we’re not used to it because we have wrongly
confined our experience of Christ teaching us to church. What if we expanded
our vision?

Looking back I can see some ways in which prior experiences
which had no obvious religious dimension became foundations for my call into
ordained ministry. One was that time as the union secretary. Here is one story.
The details became public: I am not betraying a confidence.

A young woman in the office was struggling with her work and
she knew her manager was displeased with her efforts. She came to me for help,
fearing discipline or worse. She spilled out her story, explaining what had
been affecting her work. She had been dating a young man from the office and
they had gone away on holiday to Majorca. While they were there she discovered he was bisexual. When she confronted him with this he beat her senseless and she woke in a hospital where she knew no Spanish and the staff knew no English. It would have been bad enough for anyone, but now she was back at the office and had to see this (by now former) boyfriend every day.

With my support she recounted this to senior management, who were  immediately more sympathetic to her and offered support, not criticism. It was my first major experience of coming alongside someone in a life crisis. I don’t pretend I’m great at it, but just as I brought that young woman to management so now I bring others to an even more compassionate heavenly Father.

The other experience was a few years later. While still at work I had three times one summer suffered from a collapsed lung. I should have had surgery the third time but the consultant was on holiday. I then went over three years without a recurrence. By the time it happened again I was doing my first Theology degree. I was taken to Casualty at the Bristol Royal Infirmary and told I would have to attend another hospital in Bristol, early the next week, for an appointment where my operation would be confirmed.

When I got back to college from Casualty I learned that a friend of mine’s father had been visiting. His father was a retired vicar with a healing ministry. How I wanted this man to pray for me that I might be healed and not have to face surgery. But Mark’s parents had left by the time I
returned. I had to have the operation. Eleven days in hospital, four weeks’ convalescence from college and three months before I was fully fit. Much as I didn’t want that surgery I frequently remember it now when I visit someone in hospital. You may not want to be there, either. You might not like the treatment or operation you have had. God allowed me that unwanted experience for the sake of future pastoral ministry. The union work and the hospital ward were as much part of my training as the college classroom.

Conclusion
What, then, are your expectations as you leave ‘church’ this morning and go home? Is it that you have had your weekly meeting with Jesus and
now you must slog through a Godforsaken world for six more days? May I urge you to see that Jesus is not confined to the church building?

Or is your response one of knowing that while living in a fallen world is far from easy it is the same world Jesus inhabited in the flesh and where his Spirit meets us today? If so, you can grow in your discipleship between now and next Sunday, or between now and a midweek church meeting. Who will embrace the possibilities of Jesus discipling them in the wilds of the
world?

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Mercy Ships and Nikon

Going through a backlog of emails I just discovered that Mercy Ships,the Christian charity that sails to the poorest of countries with medical aid, is Nikon UK‘s chosen charity for 2007. Nikon UK don’t always choose the biggest of charities: last year it was a children’s hospice in Surrey. It’s especially good in this time when the government is making it harder for Christian charities to follow their consciences to see this support for a Christian cause from outside the Church.

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Tomorrow’s Sermon: Tent And Temple

(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.

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Tomorrow’s Sermon: Tent And Temple

(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.

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Tomorrow’s Sermon: Tent And Temple

(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.

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Rob Bell Interview

Something else from that February issue of Christianity magazine is a terrific interview with Rob Bell of Mars Hill Bible Church, Michigan and Velvet Elvis and Nooma DVDs fame. There is an extract on their website from the printed version; but even better is the full video interview (which lasts 35-40 minutes). Highlights for me include:

  • How Mars Hill can be ten thousand strong but distance itself from ‘mega-church’ values;
  • How Bell avoids label, including ’emerging’ and ’emergent’, because we all should be engaging with what it means to follow Jesus Christ today;
  • The use of everyday family life and friendships as a means of accountability.

But there is so much more. You may find your own highlights. I really can’t commend this too highly. I’m putting in my order now for his next book, Sex God, a provocative title for an examination of sexuality and spirituality. It’s due 30th March.

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