Tag: John Wesley

What To Do When A Move Of God Is Dying, 2 Kings 2:1-18 (Ordinary 13 Year C)

2 Kings 2:1-18

On my first full day at the first theological college I attended, one of the pastoral tutors said to us: ‘Coming to college is a bereavement experience.’

She was right. Of course, it was not on the scale of the death of a loved one. But there are other bereavements, including smaller ones. The tutor explained that we were going through the loss of families, friends, networks, homes, jobs, and other things that we had left behind to study and train. (Most of us were mature students.)

The account of Elijah’s departure to heaven is also a bereavement story. And it’s more than just losing a beloved leader of God’s people from this earth. There is a bigger bereavement going on here for Elisha, the company of the prophets, because the loss of Elijah to heaven is the end of one major phase of God’s work among his people.

In that respect, I believe this passage has a lot to tell today’s church. So much of it is dying, especially in the more traditional churches. We know the numbers are down and the age profile is increasing. A phase of God’s work is dying. But how do we respond?

We can take clues from this narrative about good and bad ways to respond when one move of God is passing, and we are waiting for the next. I am going to look at how Elisha reacts, and then how ‘the company of the prophets’ reacts.

Firstly, Elisha

I have no doubt that Elisha was consumed with grief. Every time Elijah told him to stay in one place while he went on, Elisha replied, ‘As surely as the Lord lives and as you live, I will not leave you.’ Elisha clings onto Elijah. Can he not face the thought that he is going to be separated from him? Or maybe he’s not willing to let his master go on his final journey alone.

Equally, every time the company of the prophets asks Elisha, ‘Do you know that the Lord is going to take your master from you today?’, he gives the same reply: ‘Yes, I know, so be quiet.’ I doubt this is like the old British stiff upper lip, because that would not fit the culture. But it does sound like someone who is saying, I just don’t want to talk about it. This is too awful.

In these ways, Elisha doesn’t sound that different from a lot of grieving people. Those who have studied the various stages of grief have shown that one of the early stages is that of denial, where we just cannot accept the awful reality.

I suspect some of us are like that in the church as it declines and ages. Some of us don’t want to talk about it. Somehow, we think that if we keep on doing the same old same old then maybe magically things will turn out for the better. We seem to have fallen for what some have called Einstein’s definition of insanity, which is to keep on doing the same things will expecting a different result.

But Elisha doesn’t stop there. He knows a new season is coming. For sure, his grief cries out after Elijah departs as he asks, ‘Where now is the Lord, the God of Elijah?’ But before that, we read this in verses 9 and 10:

9 When they had crossed, Elijah said to Elisha, ‘Tell me, what can I do for you before I am taken from you?’

‘Let me inherit a double portion of your spirit,’ Elisha replied.

10 ‘You have asked a difficult thing,’ Elijah said, ‘yet if you see me when I am taken from you, it will be yours – otherwise, it will not.’

The ‘double portion’ is what the eldest son received in their father’s will. It showed he was the favoured one. Here, Elijah knows the double portion of the spirit isn’t in his gift, it is only from the favour of God. Elisha will know he has received it if he sees Elijah when he is taken – for that is what a prophet does, he sees into the will of God.

At this point, Elisha gets it right. The succession of God’s work depends not on hankering for the days of Elijah but depending on the work of the Spirit. Only the Spirit of God animates the prophetic ministry.

And … only the Spirit of God animates the Church of Jesus Christ. Amid all our talking, posturing, and fantasising in the light of ongoing decline, the ‘one thing necessary’, a dependence upon the power of the Holy Spirit, seems to be the ‘one thing neglected.’ We need Pentecost fifty-two weeks of the year.

It’s no good telling stories of what the Holy Spirit did in past generations or when we were younger if we are not also relying on the Spirit now as well. It reminds me of my favourite story about the nineteenth century American evangelist D L Moody. During one visit to the UK, he spoke to a group of church leaders on the text Ephesians 5:18, ‘Be filled with the Spirit.’ He pointed out (correctly) that the Greek actually says, ‘Continue to be filled with the Spirit.’

An Anglican clergyman objected. ‘Mr Moody! Why do I have to be filled with the Spirit now? I was filled with the Spirit at conversion.’

And Moody simply replied: ‘Because I leak.’

Isn’t that our problem? We have leaked the Holy Spirit and we are dying. Is anything more urgent than petitioning God passionately to pour out his Spirit on his people again?

Let me ask you: are there any ways in which your church is in denial about the fact that the move of God which created our churches is dying? Are there ways you are trying to hide from this? We can have all the coffee mornings we like, but unless the Spirit is poured out, we are done for. Are we crying out for the Holy Spirit?

Secondly, the company of the prophets

If Elisha starts off on the wrong foot but then gets it right, the company of the prophets gets things the opposite way around. They start off well. Look at all the times they warn Elisha, ‘Do you know that the Lord is going to take your master from you today?’ Get real, Elisha, they say: you can’t play pretend, you need to face up to reality. This is good, honest living. They know you can’t live in denial. They know that fantasising and hiding are not helpful. They show a healthy instinct.

So where does it all go wrong for them? Well, that happens after Elijah has been taken to heaven and Elisha has taken up the prophetic mantle, both literally and spiritually, with Elijah’s cloak. After Elisha proves his spiritual authority by dividing the waters and walking across, we read this:

15 The company of the prophets from Jericho, who were watching, said, ‘The spirit of Elijah is resting on Elisha.’ And they went to meet him and bowed to the ground before him. 16 ‘Look,’ they said, ‘we your servants have fifty able men. Let them go and look for your master. Perhaps the Spirit of the Lord has picked him up and set him down on some mountain or in some valley.’

The very people who have warned Elisha that Elijah will be taken from him now propagate a delusional fantasy that maybe he hasn’t really gone, after all. Elisha may have the Spirit resting on him, but they still want the good old days, even though God is blatantly doing something new now.

And I fear this is where much of the mainstream, traditional church is spiritually today. God is doing something else, but we still want to propagate the old ways. Look at how Methodism clings onto its old structures. We must have our Circuits and Districts! So, we combine them into ever larger sizes. Here I am, in our circuit where three old ones were amalgamated twelve years ago, preaching at a church that is not one of mine, and travelling thirty-four miles to do so.

Or another Methodist example: every church must have a minister in pastoral charge. We can’t possibly let churches have a vacancy, like many other denominations do. Our congregations become infantilised, and our ministers get stretched over ever more small churches, because the rate of decline in church members is faster than the rate of decline in numbers of churches. We ministers are then far less able to be effective, because we are just travelling cheerleaders and find it hard to embed ourselves in a community.

Can’t anybody see what is blatantly in front of our eyes, that the system is breaking and dying? Have we so idolised the system that no-one will grasp the nettle? Yet we still go looking for Elijah when the Spirit is resting on Elisha.

But here’s the thing: although the company of the prophets go from being realistic and honest to living in a world of make-believe, ultimately there is hope. Why? Because if you continue reading in 2 Kings, the company of the prophets continues to work in partnership with Elisha. They come to the realisation that they must follow the leading of the Spirit in their day, even if that means doing something new.

And surely the same is true for us. We have lived for so long under the illusion that the structures the Holy Spirit led John Wesley to establish in the eighteenth century are still the structures we must use today, as if somehow God’s leading then were on the same level as Holy Scripture itself. But if we are both to survive and to thrive as the church, we shall need to stop our version of looking for the body of Elijah and instead ask what the Spirit is doing through the Elishas of our day. It may look very different. What we can guarantee is that if it is truly the work of the Holy Spirit then it will not be contrary to biblical teaching.

What might we do about it? Exactly what we have already seen Elisha do. We need as much of the Holy Spirit as the Lord will be pleased to pour out on us. When we are full of the Spirit we shall be led in Christlike ways. When we are full of the Spirit, we shall find that God will lead us to express the unchanging Gospel of Jesus Christ in new ways for our generation. Some sacred cows will need to go, but it will only be us who made them sacred in the first place, not God.

So, yes – we still need to do those administrative things that consume our time, like the accounts, Safeguarding, and GDPR, and we need to do them well as a good witness. But for all their importance on our agenda, the one thing that needs to trump them all in our priorities is seeking the fulness of the Holy Spirit.

Because – as Moody said – we leak.

0

I’m A Lifelong Methodist – So What? Wesley Day (a day late!) Romans 5:1-11

Romans 5:1-11

Sometimes, when I arrive at a church for the first time, a person will approach me and introduce themselves. In the middle of their greeting, they will tell me, ‘I’m a lifelong Methodist.’ Their clear assumption is that I will be impressed.

More often than not, though, my heart sinks.

And I say that as someone who is also a life-long Methodist.

Because what they tend to mean is something like this. They love the hymns, the style of worship, the variety of preachers from week to week, and so on.

But I don’t want to know whether you like those things. I want to know – if you like Charles Wesley’s hymns, do you have the very experience of God in your life that Wesley wrote about and that his elder brother John preached about? If all you like are the hymns, you may have Methodist style but you don’t have Methodist substance.

And substance is what matters.

In my first circuit as a minister, some people tried to divide the church over the question of music in worship. Some members wanted us to introduce more contemporary worship songs and hymns alongside the traditional material. But some of the ‘lifelong Methodist’ contingent wouldn’t have it.

The tragedy was that those who wanted to add the contemporary to what we already had still loved the Wesley hymns. But they loved them not for the poetry or the melodies (many of which come from after the Wesleys’ time anyway!). No: they loved them, because they had the experience of the Holy Spirit that Charles Wesley described in those hymns. They had the substance. The critics just had the style.

And so since yesterday was the anniversary of John Wesley’s profound experience of faith and assurance in Christ through the Holy Spirit warming his heart at an address in the Barbican, I thought we should take today to examine whether we too have that knowledge of hearts being strangely warmed by the redeeming work of God.

The way I’m going to do this is by summarising Wesleyan beliefs under what have been called ‘The Four ‘Alls’ of Methodism’. Each of the four ‘All’ statements pertains to salvation.

And the first ‘All’ is that All need to be saved.

When John Wesley preached in the open air to the crowds, he used to say that first of all he preached ‘Law’ and then he preached ‘Grace.’ He spoke first about God’s law, to show God’s standards for life and to make it clear that we all fail to reach those standards. The word most commonly translated ‘sin’ in the New Testament means ‘to miss the mark.’ As Romans 3:23 famously puts it,

All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.

We have failed. We need grace.

If you grow up in the church, you can easily miss this. I did. I grew up hearing people being asked whether they were Christians and answering, ‘I’m trying to be a Christian.’ This communicated to me that Christianity could be summed up like a simple mathematical equation: Christianity equals believing in God plus doing good.

I was so wrong.

My mother even bought me a book that was a popular exposition of Romans, showing that faith, rather than good works, led to salvation. I tossed it aside as rubbish.

It was only when I went to series of church membership classes with members of the church youth group, that things clicked – and only then at the final session, when we looked at the service for the reception of new members. There were three promises and professions of faith the candidates had to make. Do you repent of your sins? Do you trust in Jesus Christ as your Lord and Saviour? Will you obey Christ and serve him in the world?

The penny dropped, at last.

Just as John Wesley had tried to live a methodical, holy life but was riddled with fear until his heart was strangely warmed, so God intervened through the words of that liturgy and I found myself responding.

It doesn’t matter how good and how respectable our lives and upbringings are. Each one of us is a sinner. We fail God’s standards. We need to be saved.

The second ‘All’ is that All can be saved.

The person who urged John Wesley to preach in the open air, first of all to colliers at Kingswood near Bath, was George Whitefield. While Whitefield was generally reckoned to be a better preacher than Wesley, they sharply differed on one issue. Whitefield, as a Calvinist, believed that Jesus only died for the ‘elect.’ That is, God had predestined some people to be saved and others to be damned.

Wesley disagreed. He did not believe that all people would be saved, but he did believe that all people could be saved. Therefore, the Gospel should be shared with as many as possible, so that people might have the opportunity of responding and receiving salvation from God by grace through faith thanks to the death and resurrection of Jesus.

While this debate still exists in parts of the Christian world, Wesley set the direction of travel very clearly for the Methodist movement. All can be saved, and that means sharing the Gospel is a priority. Sadly, I’m not sure you would guess that from the behaviours and priorities of many Methodist congregations today, but if you say you are a traditional Methodist, then this is in your spiritual DNA. It is not the only part of mission, but it is a key part.

Today, in other ways, there are people who think they can’t be saved. They’ve been too bad. They’ve been so damaged they can’t recognise goodness and grace when it is offered to them. Perhaps it’s expressed in words from the rock band Coldplay in a song of theirs called ‘Viva La Vida’:

For some reason I can’t explain
I know Saint Peter won’t call my name[1]

While the song is about a king who has lost his kingdom, it’s poignant to hear those words sung by Chris Martin, who grew up in a Christian family in Devon.

But it is our privilege to make it known to people that none of them need say, I can’t be saved. The love of God is on offer to all. It simply requires a response of opening out empty hands in faith to receive his gift.

The third ‘All’ is that All can know they are saved.

This is what we call the Christian doctrine of assurance. It is that we can be assured of having saving faith.

Various strands of Christianity had advanced ideas of how believers could know their eternal destiny for certain. At the more Catholic end,  it was simply by receiving the sacraments of the Church, but not all found that convincing. What if an unrepentant scoundrel took the sacraments? Tragically, this left many Catholics uncertain of God’s grace and love.

In the Reformation, Calvinists said you could know from the promises of God in Scripture. However, even those who were supposedly reprobates, not part of the elect, could also read Scripture. So some later Calvinists looked in the Bible for signs of God’s blessing upon people. Unfortunately, they landed on things such as those who received material wealth in the Old Testament. We see the legacy of this mistake even today in the so-called ‘Prosperity Gospel’, which really is no Gospel at all.

Wesley certainly had a place for believing in the promises of Scripture, and he also believed that the sacraments had power. But he added something else: the inner witness of the Holy Spirit. It’s there in Romans 5, which we read (one of Wesley’s favourite passages, by the way):

hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us. (Verse 5)

To those who, as in the title of the song recorded by both Dusty Springfield and David Cassidy, asked, ‘How can I be sure?’, Wesley answered that as well as receiving comfort from the presence of Christ at the sacraments and applying the promises of God in Scripture, you could know and feel the assuring work within you by the Holy Spirit.

It was what he had experienced at Aldersgate Street in the Barbican, when he said that his heart was strangely warmed and he felt he did trust in Christ, Christ alone for salvation.

It was what Charles wrote about in ‘O for a thousand tongues’ in the climactic verse:

In Christ, our Head, you then shall know,
shall feel your sins forgiven,
anticipate your heaven below,
and own that love is heaven.[2]

This is all part of the Good News. God doesn’t want you to be in any doubt of his saving love for you.

The fourth and final ‘All’ is that All can be saved to the uttermost.

This is John Wesley’s controversial doctrine of Christian Perfection. Wesley based it on texts such as the words of Jesus:

Be perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect. (Matthew 5:48)

Even Wesley realised there were problems with this view. He said it wasn’t so much as believing you could get to a point of not sinning at all as about not knowingly engaging in any conscious sin. He also was clear that he didn’t classify himself as perfect, and that he only in his lifetime ever knew one or two people whom he could call perfect, even by his own revised definition.

Furthermore, it is a debatable understanding of the words of Jesus. For the word translated ‘perfect’ might not mean ‘morally perfect.’ It might mean ‘mature.’

So how do we take this? I found some words of my college Principal about this helpful. He said that behind this controversial teaching of Wesley’s was what he called ‘an optimism of grace.’ And I think that’s a good lesson for us. We should always be optimistic about what God by his grace can accomplish in our lives and in the lives of others.

This means advancing in holiness, both in our private lives and in social dimensions. For this, we need the ongoing sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit – something to remember when Pentecost comes up in a couple of weeks.

And to achieve this, Wesley set up his famous small groups so that members could hold each other accountable for growing in grace and supporting one another. George Whitefield, whom I mentioned earlier, realised that this was Wesley’s genius: he organised converts into small groups for their spiritual growth. Whitefield didn’t, and in contrast, many of his converts didn’t stick: he sadly described them as ‘a rope of sand.’

To be a traditional Methodist, then, means having a holy dissatisfaction with our lives, but also a great hope in God’s grace to transform us, and a commitment to small-group relationships that will help us in that growth.

Conclusion

So – if you say you are a lifelong or traditional Methodist – are these things your knowledge and experience? And I ask the same question if you have been attracted to Methodism in mid-life.

Do you know your need to be saved?

Do you know you can be saved?

Do you have assurance that you have been saved?

And is God saving you more and more, even one day to the uttermost?

[1] Songwriters: Christopher A. J. Martin, Guy Rupert Berryman, Jonathan Mark Buckland, William Champion; lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

[2] Charles Wesley (1707-1788), italics mine.

2

Journey To Jerusalem 3: Building The Church, Psalm 127 (Lent 4)

Psalm 127

‘Unless the Lord builds the house’ are – ahem – interesting words for my family to hear at present, just when a wall of our manse is being rebuilt, following an incident where a delivery driver managed to reverse into it. It may not literally be the Lord rebuilding our manse, but at least Methodist Insurance have called in a good building firm.

‘Unless the Lord builds the house’. But which house? I suspect that, especially since this is a Psalm of Ascent for pilgrims on their way to the Temple at Jerusalem for one of Israel’s feasts, that the house in question is what they called ‘the house of the Lord’, that is, the Temple itself.

I said in last week’s sermon that we Christians don’t speak of church buildings as ‘the house of the Lord’ because Jesus is the true Temple and we together are the temple of the Holy Spirit. The church is fundamentally not the building but the people. 

Hence, a Christian interpretation of this psalm would be to see it in terms of building the church, the people of God. In that case, ‘Unless the Lord builds the house’ sits very well with Jesus’ promise that he would build his church, and with worship songs where God says, ‘For I’m building a people of power and I’m making a people of praise’, and the people reply, ‘Build your church, Lord.’ 

Surely that is something all Christians are concerned about. Instead of decline, we want to see the church grow, both in quantity of people and in quality of living the Christlike life. 

And it’s something we’re focussing on in the circuit right now as churches have Mission Action Plan meetings with John Illsley. We want to see the churches built up again. But how? 

The Psalmist here gives us the two sides of the coin: God’s part and our part. Let’s explore them. 

Firstly, God’s part:

1 Unless the Lord builds the house,

    the builders labour in vain.

Unless the Lord watches over the city,

    the guards stand watch in vain.

2 In vain you rise early

    and stay up late,

toiling for food to eat –

    for he grants sleep to those he loves.

Building the church is God’s work. It is a spiritual matter, therefore we need to see him at work. 

This is consistent with what we know about God elsewhere. The whole of salvation is based on the fact that God acts first, and we only respond. When Adam and Eve sinned in the Garden of Eden, the first act in salvation was the Lord coming walking in the garden, looking for them. God delivers the Israelites from Egypt before he gives them the Ten Commandments: the commandments are a response to God acting first. In the New Testament, we read that ‘we love because God first loved us.’ 

This is so different from the way we often approach these things. We have so fallen into our society’s technological approach to solving problems that we think we need to devise some clever plan to make the church grow again. So we follow the latest trends, copy what the latest trendy speaker says, we fall for books that tell us there are a certain number of essential steps to take, and you know what? We fall flat on our faces. 

What has happened? We have succumbed to the ancient sin of pride. We have believed that it all depends on us. And secretly, we rather like that. We want to be known for our daring exploits. But it’s wrong. This is God’s work, not ours. It is his Name that will be glorified, not ours. It is about God’s grace which requires our faithful trust. It is not about our good works. The Gospel itself tells us that salvation is about grace and faith, and that we are not saved by our good works. Well, neither does the church grow by our good works. It grows because God is at work and we merely respond. 

Now if we accept that building the church is God’s work, there is an opposite error into which we can fall. We can say, well if it’s all down to God, then we don’t have to do anything. It takes the old saying, ‘Let go and let God’, which was meant to emphasise our need to trust, and extrapolates it to a point where we abdicate all moral responsibility. If the church grows, that’s down to God, and if it doesn’t grow, well that’s nothing to do with me, Guv. 

It is God’s work to grow the church. We need a move of the Holy Spirit to make that happen. But you know what that means for us? If we desire that God build his church, then we need to pray. 

There is a time and place for strategizing and planning the mission of the local church, but it is not the first thing. The first thing is that we need God to move, and on our side that means prayer. So all our planning and programming has to wait until we have heard from God. Unless and until we know what his vision is for our church in mission, we don’t start organising and managing things in the ways we love to do. 

Because really all that organising and managing is just a subtle way of saying that we want to stay in control. We don’t have the faith and trust in God that is at the heart of Christianity. When we want to zoom into action first without taking time to be still and to listen to God, then all we are doing is proving the adage of the late American Christian leader AW Tozer, who once said that ‘Most Christians live like practical atheists.’

More positively, we remember the words of John Wesley, when he said that God does nothing except in response to prayer. 

To build the church, we need God to move first. 

Secondly, our part:

To examine this, I want to look at the second half of the Psalm, with those words we must handle sensitively about the gift of children. Let me initially read them again: 

3 Children are a heritage from the Lord,

    offspring a reward from him.

4 Like arrows in the hands of a warrior

    are children born in one’s youth.

5 Blessed is the man

    whose quiver is full of them.

They will not be put to shame

    when they contend with their opponents in court.

Let me add some context and qualifications. Yes, children are a blessing. I love my own daughter and son more than words can say. But children can also be a source of pain. And others may not have the blessing. They may have wished for children but not had them. They may have lost children. A few Christians are even specifically called not to become parents, because it will interfere with their particular divine calling. 

There are some fundamentalist groups that say you should all have lots of children. One such movement is called ‘Quiver-full’, and is named after this psalm, where we heard ‘Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them.’ To a certain extent, they have a point. Religions where families have large numbers of children tend to grow in the world. You could look at Northern Ireland, which when I was young had a significant Protestant majority in the population, but where soon the Catholics will outnumber the Protestants and a united Ireland will be a very real political prospect. 

But at the same time you can’t make what the Psalm says into an absolute principle for everyone. After all, what would that say about Jesus, who had no children of his own. Was he not blessed? 

We must look elsewhere for an interpretation of these words in the light of Jesus.

God has created a people for his praise. He wants to build that people, his church. Our privilege is to be the spiritual midwives who bring new children of God into his people. The new birth is all God’s work, but he calls us into partnership with him. Just as a couple comes together for a pregnancy to happen and a midwife comes alongside them to assist them with the birth, so the Holy Spirit reveals Jesus to people and God uses us to help bring them into the kingdom of God. 

Now what does that involve on our part? How are we spiritual midwives? In a number of interlocking ways. One is that we set out to live such lives of devotion to the ways of Jesus in the world that our friends want to talk with us about what makes us the way we are. Another is that when we have the opportunity, we are willing and able to talk about Jesus and what he means to us with our non-Christian friends. Alongside that, we will be willing to give an appropriate invitation, whether that is to come to something exploratory like an Alpha Course, or even to attend church. It also means that we learn how to lead someone to faith in Christ. 

Friends, what would it be like if we concentrated on training our church members in habits and practices like these, rather than just setting up meetings with speakers that amount to little more than religious entertainment? 

There are many resources available to help churches learn these skills and virtues. Right now at my Haslemere church, our mission development worker is leading a weekly course on how to share our faith sensitively. 

Honestly, it’s not difficult to find these courses. The question is, why don’t we? Do we do other things in church life in preference to these spiritual priorities? Do we try to fill our church life with other things to avoid dealing with these things? Is this why we come up with all the silly nonsense that having hirers of our church premises amounts to outreach? 

For so long as we keep on doing the same old things, acting like a religious club rather than the Body of Christ, deluding ourselves that one day people will start rushing into our doors, we shall be guilty of Einstein’s definition of insanity: that we keep doing the same things while expecting a different result. 

Sanity will come when we accept that we need God to act first, and on our part that means prayer. When God works in people’s lives, our response will be not to run an institution or a club but to be spiritual midwives to the new life the Holy Spirit brings. 

Build your church, Lord. Unless you build it, we labour in vain. 

0

The Good News Covenant, Luke 4:14-21 (Ordinary 3 Epiphany 3)

No video this week: on Friday afternoon, while working on this sermon, a workman’s van crashed into our kitchen wall, causing structural damage to our manse.

No-one was hurt. But it does mean I’ve got behind. Anyway, here’s the text of this week’s sermon.

Luke 4:14-21

How did you hear about the assassination of John F Kennedy in November 1963? I am too young to remember how we heard the news in the UK, but I imagine people heard on the next available TV news bulletin. 

But I do know how I heard about the death of Princess Diana in August 1997. I came downstairs that Sunday morning, and as was my habit I turned on the BBC breakfast news. There was the rolling coverage provided by 24-hour news services. 

And I remember how I heard about the death of the Queen in 2023. Debbie and I were sitting in a branch of Pizza Express, waiting for a meal before going to a concert. A news alert flashed up on my phone. 

How did people hear major news in the Roman Empire two thousand years ago? A messenger would come to their town or village and make a public announcement, probably in somewhere like the marketplace. I guess they were a little bit like town criers. They would tell the people that there was a new Emperor on the throne in Rome, or that Rome’s legions had won a great victory against an enemy.

And do you know what they called their proclamations? You do. ‘Good News.’

So when the New Testament speaks about Good News it takes over this model and gives it a refit according to the life and ministry of Jesus. It would be something like this:

‘Good News! There is a new king on the throne of the universe. His name is Jesus. He has conquered sin and death not with violence but by his own suffering love and death. And God has vindicated him by raising him from the dead.’

Jesus speaks of ‘Good News’ in Luke 4, and – to state the obvious – he is by definition doing so before his death and resurrection. But he is telling his hearers about the nature of the kingdom he is inaugurating, including what it is like to live under his reign and by implication what it requires of its citizens. 

Therefore, what we are considering today is both the offer Jesus makes to us by his grace and the call he makes on us in response. 

Firstly, good news to the poor:

I find that Christians go into battle with each other on this one. What is good news to the poor? Is it that we evangelise them? Or is it that we campaign politically for them? 

I think the answer is ‘yes.’ In other words, I don’t see this as an either/or choice.

But we need to understand who people in Jesus’ world would have understood as ‘the poor.’ Certainly, it included the economically poor, but it also it also included those who had no status or honour in society. So we’re not only talking about the destitute, we’re talking about women, children, lepers, Gentiles, prostitutes, and so on. 

And by making a list like that, you will I am sure be saying to yourself, that sounds pretty much like the main constituency Jesus served. He brought the Good News that there was a new king on the throne of the universe to these people, and they welcomed it. This king was for them. They could be citizens of his kingdom. God’s love was offered freely to them in word and deed by Jesus, and they too could enter the kingdom by repentance and faith, just like anyone else. 

The early church clearly followed up on this. When Paul writes to the Corinthians, he observes that not many of them were of high rank. And after the apostolic age, we find former slaves becoming bishops in the church. 

For John Wesley, it all kicked off on 1st April 1739, when, at the urging of George Whitefield, he preached for the first time in the open air to the miners of Kingswood, between Bath and Bristol. The Good News was for them, he realised. And he would later become concerned about their social needs as well. 

If we are to take the mission of God seriously today, we must put this front and centre, because Jesus did. Yet in this country, church historians say that the Christian church has not seriously taken the Gospel to the poor since the Industrial Revolution. John Wesley was probably the last person to do this on a significant scale. 

I am not saying that we are doing nothing in this respect. I am sure some of the people who come to ‘Connect’ fall into the categories I am talking about. As we give a welcome and acceptance to them, we need to find the right ways and times to share the Good News with them. 

And I am aware that this town is very much divided into two halves. But at the same time, it is a town with Marks and Spencer’s at one end and Waitrose at the other. This is the only church I have served where the hand gel provided to the minister before handling bread and wine at communion comes from M and S! 

So allow me to flag this up, because in this area it would be easy for us to lose sight of this important strand of Jesus’ teaching. There are few things more dangerous for Christians than getting comfortable. 

Secondly, freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind:

What did Jesus mean by quoting this from Isaiah? Clearly, ‘freedom for the prisoners’ didn’t mean he went around the jails of Palestine opening prison doors and letting the convicts out. It has more to do with him pronouncing freedom from the guilt of sin in the offer of forgiveness, freedom from the power of sin in his casting out of demons, and freedom from being sinned against by standing for justice and also enabling people to forgive wrongdoers. 

Recovery of sight for the blind is a little more straightforward, given the healing miracles Jesus performed. 

But a lot of that might sound a little distant to us. The church limits the number of people who exercise a deliverance ministry because it needs all sorts of safeguards and protections built in. Most of us don’t have a healing ministry, either. I only know for sure of two occasions in my life when I have prayed for someone to be healed and they were. Not that I want to discourage anyone from praying for healing, though: I’m just saying that only a few Christians have an ongoing ministry of healing. 

So what can we take from this? Plenty, actually. We may not all be evangelists, but we are all witnesses who are called to share our faith in word and in deed with people beyond the Christian community. That’s why we’re beginning the Personal Evangelism course tomorrow morning. This is a chance for us to find ways of being able to speak about our faith gently to others. How else are people going to find faith and the Good News of God’s forgiveness in Christ? I encourage you to sign up!

It’s also about our example. When we are wronged, the world will look at how we respond. When terrible things happen, our culture is full of language about certain actions and crimes being ‘unforgivable.’ And while I obviously wish no harm on anyone, our neighbours will be watching us when we suffer wrongly. If they see forgiveness in us, or at the very least a working towards forgiveness, you can be sure it will make an impression. 

Further, we can be involved socially in campaigns for those who have suffered wrongs. Yes, this includes our fellow Christians who are persecuted around the world, but we should not limit ourselves to our spiritual kith and kin. Anyone who is an unjust victim, even if it is someone we don’t agree with, is someone for whom Jesus wants freedom. In fact, standing up for those we disagree with can itself be a powerful witness. 

As for the recovery of sight for the blind, apart from the question of physical healing there is the matter of those who are spiritually blind. Jesus spoke truth to the wilfully blind, such as many of the religious leaders of his day. He also spoke truth to reveal God’s love to those he was calling out of darkness. 

Therefore, we can do two things. We can pray that blind hearts and minds be opened to the truth of God’s Good News. And we can also be the ones who share that truth, backed by prayer. 

Thirdly and finally, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour:

All the talk of releasing and setting free is brought together in the talk of ‘the year of the Lord’s favour.’ And that language is the language of the Old Testament Jubilee. The Jubilee Year, which in the Law of Mosese was to occur once every fifty years. And in that year debts were forgiven, slaves were set free, and land was returned to its original owners. Whether Israel ever truly observed it is debatable, but here Jesus says it’s coming in with his kingdom and so it’s a sign not only of how to live now but also of the age to come. It is a manifesto for how the community of God’s kingdom will be and how his people are to live now. 

The forgiveness of debts was financial. What a test of discipleship to hone in on how attached we are to our money. Will we always stand on our rights, demanding what is ours, or will we forgive a debt?

I saw that demonstrated by my father when I was still living at home in my early twenties. I had a friend who was an only child and an orphan. His father had been killed in a car crash when he was eight, and then when he was fifteen, just before our mock O-Levels, his mother died of cancer. Then in his early twenties he had a broken engagement. With few relatives, he came to live with us for a couple of weeks while he tried to get himself together again. 

But in that time he just expected my mother to do his laundry and cook for him, and he never offered any money towards his keep. After he left to go back to his home, we had a family conference over dinner. What were we going to do about his debt to us?

And my father simply said, ‘We’re going to put it down to God’s account.’ 

And we know Jesus builds that into the Lord’s Prayer: Forgive us our debts, as we forgive those who are indebted to us. Yes, of course it’s a vivid metaphor for the forgiveness of sins and our forgiveness of those who sin against us, but we should never let that fact obscure the challenge of the literal words. 

There is much more I could say about the Jubilee. I could talk about our attachment to the land, which may have implications for our national and international politics. I could mention the ongoing problem of slavery that still exists in our world, and which you might encounter in the staff at the local car wash or nail bar. 

But I don’t have time to go into that. I’ll just say that the way we are willing to forgive and release people, money, land, and possessions will be a powerful witness in our world that frequently talks of things being ‘unforgivable’. 

The Jubilee was part of God’s covenant with Israel. He had delivered them from Egypt, and this was part of their response of grateful obedience to him. In the renewal of our covenant with God, we are called to a similar response, as we also are in bringing good news to the poor along with freedom and sight to people. 

In our commitment this morning, may these be formed as our continuing participation in God’s mission. For then we will be proclaimers of Good News today.

0

First Sunday in Advent: Living in the Light of his Coming (1 Thessalonians 3:9-13)

1 Thessalonians 3:9-13

Earlier this week, the death was reported of Hal Lindsey, author of the multi-million-selling 1970 book The Late Great Planet Earth. This famous (or in my opinion, infamous) book promoted a crude understanding of prophecy in the Bible and confidently predicted we were in the last days before the Second Coming. The Common Market (not yet the EU at that point) was a sign of the Antichrist, and Chinese armies would be gathering for the Battle of Armageddon. It fascinated and scared people in equal measure.

For me, books like The Late Great Planet Earth bring unfair disrepute on the Bible and careful interpretation of its literature, and also on the doctrine of the Second Coming that we mark today on Advent Sunday. The collapse of the Soviet Union didn’t fit Lindsey’s prophecies, and nor did the failure of Jesus to return within forty years of the re-establishment of the State of Israel.

No wonder we get mocked. No wonder we get embarrassed about the doctrine of Christ’s re-appearing.

Among the early Christians, there was a sizable group in the Thessalonian church that decided ultimately to sell up and wait for the Second Coming, and Paul is not impressed. You hear of the idleness of this group in 2 Thessalonians, which includes Paul’s words that Margaret Thatcher so loved out of context: ‘The one who is unwilling to work shall not eat’ (2 Thessalonians 3:10).

In the verses we read today, Paul gives the Thessalonians (who he dearly loved, despite the wacky behaviour of some) pointers towards how Christians live in the light of Christ’s promised return. We’re going to consider three of them:

Firstly, we live under Providence:

11 Now may our God and Father himself and our Lord Jesus clear the way for us to come to you.

Paul knows that his life is lived under the sovereignty of God. Even now, in this chaotic, mixed-up, suffering, and sin-infested world, God is in charge. When Christ appears again, God will be in charge but the resistance will be ended.

So right now, God is directing Paul’s life. He is not micro-managing every fine detail, because he leaves room for the limited free will that human beings have, even if he has greater free will than us. This is what we call Providence.

And so Paul looks to the Father and Jesus to ‘clear the way’ to make a visit to Thessalonica possible. We don’t know what obstacles were preventing this, but Paul is expectant that with his greater free will, God will sort things out.

There is a fine balance here where Paul avoids extremes. On the one hand, he knows that as a servant of God he is not free to direct his own life simply as he pleases. God is in charge of his life. On the other, he is not looking for God to do and direct everything at the expense of human responsibility.

If we know that God is reigning now and that one day he will do so without opposition, then we are called today to live under that reign in anticipation of the Second Advent. We are neither to be the people who forget our Lord in between weekly Sunday services nor those who cannot get out of bed in the morning without knowing which clothes he is directing us to wear.

Many of you know how, despite an upbringing in the Methodist church, I went to an Anglican theological college to study when I was exploring God’s call on my life. When it became clear that the call was to ordained ministry, I was unsure whether to remain with my native Methodism or to go over to the Church of England, for which I was seeing a very good advertisement at college.

I consulted various people, but I got to the point that I no longer trusted the advice of any more Methodists or Anglicans, because I thought they all had a vested interest! So I went to see a friend who was the pastor of an Evangelical Free Church, outside both of the ‘competing’ traditions. As we chatted, Colin said something along these lines to me:

I am a pastor in this church, because I grew up in this tradition. I don’t know much about the Methodist or Anglican churches, but I would say this: if you have any belief in the Providence of God, however you understand it, then can you regard your upbringing in Methodism as an accident? And if your upbringing isn’t an accident, then you might have good reasons to leave the Methodist Church, but do you have overwhelming reasons? And if you have overwhelming reasons, are you saying that God has given up on Methodism?

Colin, then, is the person who helped me make that final decision to offer for the Methodist ministry.

Let’s see our lives as purposeful, not accidental, because we are under the Providence of God. In doing so, we anticipate the time when all the roadblocks will be clear and we will live with delight under his reign. We can point to that future by our living.

Secondly, we live in love:

12 May the Lord make your love increase and overflow for each other and for everyone else, just as ours does for you.

What is this injunction to love? Is it a kind of moralistic command: ‘You must love!’?

No. When Christ comes again, all that will remain will be life in the context and atmosphere of love. Love will characterise the new creation. The new heavens and the new earth will be filled with love. The citizens of the New Jerusalem will live by love. God will rule and reign in love.

Therefore, to love now is to align ourselves with the destiny of the universe. It may be far from obvious now, but when we love we are going with the grain.

You may have heard the old story which depicts both heaven and hell as places with plenty of food, but with only extremely long chopsticks to eat it. In hell, everyone starves, because they cannot manoeuvre the long chopsticks to feed themselves. It is too clumsy, and even if they do get some morsels between the chopsticks, it falls out before they can get it to their mouths. But in heaven, the place of love, they know the secret: they use the long chopsticks to feed one another.

Loving now is the sign of that future. It is why we cannot be solo Christians. Simon and Garfunkel may have sung, ‘I am a rock, I am an island,’ in contrast to John Donne’s ‘No man is an island’, but John Wesley said, ‘The Bible knows nothing of the solitary Christian’, and I go with Wesley.

Over the years I have been struck by the way our Catholic friends habitually refer to Jesus as ‘Our Lord,’ in contrast to the Protestant emphasis on ‘My Lord.’ Is it any coincidence that they also often refer to themselves as a Catholic community? There is a sense in their speech that they know the Christian life is meant to be lived out together, and that means in mutual love. This is what makes us the community into which the broken and suffering can be invited. By love we can be the fellowship which gives advance notice of the day when ‘there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain’ (Revelation 21:4).

This doesn’t preclude us from acting individually in love for others, of course. Take this story from Friday’s weekly email by James Cary, whom I have quoted a few times before:

You’ve probably not heard of Maria Millis. She was a housekeeper in a loveless upper-class British family. She showed the love of Christ to a little boy starved of affection. That boy came to faith in his teens and grew up to dramatically improve the lives of children, miners and animals. God used a humble, faithful housekeeper to bring blessing to many through that boy, Anthony Ashley-Cooper, 7th Earl of Shaftesbury, celebrated philanthropist and social reformer. Lord Shaftesbury has a long Wikipedia page. Maria Millis doesn’t have one at all even though ‘she started it’.

If we want to point to the future, then, we also do so by love.

Thirdly and finally, we live in holiness:

13 May he strengthen your hearts so that you will be blameless and holy in the presence of our God and Father when our Lord Jesus comes with all his holy ones.

God’s great future age to come is one where there will no longer be any sin and evil. We don’t know how, and we puzzle over this, but this is what the New Testament affirms.

To be holy means to be set apart for God’s purposes, and putting that into action has moral lifestyle implications, as Paul indicates here by associating the word ‘blameless’ with ‘holy.’

And this call to be blameless and holy is one that Paul addresses not merely to individuals (although that is important) but to the Thessalonians as a church. He longs to see holiness not only as a characteristic of individual virtue, but of our corporate life.

And maybe this is more important than ever in our witness as the church. The scandal around the shocking behaviour of the late John Smyth is that rather than act in righteousness for the victims and survivors of this barbaric man, some key church leaders preferred to cover things up for fear of damaging the institution. I don’t think the world expects the church to be perfect, but it does have a reasonable expectation that we will root out evil when we encounter it.

Nevertheless, whether it’s individual holiness or what John Wesley called ‘social holiness’ we will readily admit it is not always an easy life to live. We therefore take heart from the fact that in this verse Paul begins by saying, ‘May [God] strengthen your hearts so that you will be blameless and holy.’ Yes, we need to commit to this, and we cannot avoid our personal responsibility for our actions, but at the same time we are fallible human beings and we seek the strength of God to live like Jesus.

And to strengthen our hearts is not to be taken in the way we talk of the heart today as the centre of our emotions; instead, in Jewish thought the heart was the very core of a person’s entire being. To pray, Lord strengthen our hearts, is to ask him to dig into the deepest parts of us and make us new by his Spirit. That may be painful surgery, but let us welcome it as we seek to anticipate God’s great future by living in holiness.

Conclusion

Live under Providence. Live in love. Live in holiness. How to summarise the spirit of this?

I go to a favourite story about Martin Luther. He said, ‘If I knew that the Lord were coming again tomorrow, I would plant a tree today.’

Friends, let’s go plant a tree.

0

Harvest Festival: A Harvest of Restoration, Joel 2:21-32

Joel 2:21-32

Many years ago, listeners to Radio 4’s Sunday morning service choked on their corn flakes when the minister leading a harvest festival announced: “And now, the children will bring up their gifts.”

I am glad I never witnessed that!

At harvest festival, there are certain themes that we regularly celebrate – not least the goodness of God in creation but also God’s concern for justice, because not everyone receives what they need from the harvest of the land. These are important themes to consider, even if harvest festival as we know it was merely the invention of a Victorian clergyman in the Cornish village of Morwenstow in 1843. In case you ever need to know it for a quiz, his name was Robert Hawker.

But our reading from Joel prompts another harvest theme, and that is restoration.

The context of Joel’s prophecy is that a locust swarm has invaded the Holy Land, devastating all the crops, and leaving the people facing starvation. Joel says that this is a warning from God to call the people back to him in repentance, although it’s hard to be sure what particular sins have been committed. Part of their returning to the Lord includes fasting – which they may already have been doing involuntarily due to the food shortages.

But now it appears God has heard their cry for mercy. Crops are growing again and he has driven out the locusts. In this context we hear the wonderful words of restoration in our reading. The people truly have reason to give thanks for having crops to harvest again.

Moreover, Joel tells the people that God’s restoration project is bigger and better than they ever asked or imagined. What does it include?

Firstly and most obviously, restoration of the land:

We hear that once again there will be pasture for the wild animals, autumn and spring rains, threshing-floors filled with grains, and vats overflowing with new wine and oil, and that these are reasons for rejoicing, not fear (verses 21-24).

We are used to supporting charities that help with disaster relief – whether it’s earthquakes, floods, droughts, or war. But in the popular mind we are often only thinking about helping those who are in trouble there and then. Yet many of these organisations will want to be in the affected areas for the long haul. Providing temporary accommodation, food, and medical help is only the beginning for them. They know there is a rebuilding job to be done. It’s not for nothing that ‘All We Can’ used to be called the ‘Methodist Relief and Development Fund’.

So, for example, if I visit the ‘Stories’ section of Tearfund’s website, then yes, I will find one account of emergency relief in South Sudan following floods. Homes, infrastructure, and farming land have all been destroyed, and relief workers are trying to bring in temporary shelters, food supplies, and clean water.

But I will also find the story of a small church in Bangladesh that is transforming its village. Many of the people come from lower castes. One consequence of this is they are often not well educated. Only menial jobs are available. But the outcomes from this church of just 33 members studying the Bible have been listed by their pastor:

‘We have seen financial development along with spiritual development.

‘We don’t only do church-based work, we also do various other things outside of the church. For example, we plant trees on behalf of the church. We also do awareness work about hygiene – not only in our congregation, but we also discuss these things in our community. We teach health awareness about toilet issues, such as having to wear sandals, what to do before going to the toilet, and having to use soap after coming back from the toilet.’

Their communication with the government has led to 24 new homes being built. With a water supply that contains toxic levels of arsenic and iron, they have built a water pump. They soon plan to campaign against child marriage.

All this is because they believe in a God who restores the land. God wants to make his creation new. If a small church of poor, uneducated people can make such a difference in their village, what can we do? By all means let us give our harvest gifts, but can we not be more ambitious than that?

Secondly, we have restoration of the people:

In verses 25-27 we hear that God will repay the people for the years the locusts have eaten. They will eat again and praise God. Twice he says, ‘never again will my people be shamed.’

There is a human toll to disasters: not just things like hunger, but also shame. Given that Israel had suffered the plague of locusts due to some unspecified sin, there will have been shame at the wrongdoing. The Gospel says that in Jesus God restores us from the shame of our sins. Those burdens we have carried are ones we can lay down at the foot of the Cross and find them burned up by the holy love of God. The blood of Jesus deals with them – for in the Old Testament blood symbolises life and Jesus replaces our shame with his life.

But shame is not limited to the guilty. Tragically, it is also felt by those who have been sinned against. If you have been following the news story about the monstrous abuse perpetrated by the late Mohamed al-Fayed, the former owner of Harrod’s this week, and if you have heard the stories of women coming forward to say they were raped by him, then time and time again you will have heard those women say that one of the reasons they said nothing for years was their sense of shame. Abusers control their victims by seeking to transfer shame onto them.

And here the Gospel is again by definition Good News for the shamed. Jesus is as much in the business of healing the broken as he is of forgiving sinners. We know that from the Gospels, don’t we?

Many years ago, I read a book called ‘The Locust Years’. It is the story of a woman called Jacqui Williams who went travelling in the United States but became caught up in the Reverend Sun Myung Moon’s Unification Church – the cult popularly known as the Moonies. They took over her life, reducing her to an existence of little more than selling flowers, sweets, and trinkets on the street to support the cult’s income. When she had to return to the UK to renew her visa, she thankfully found faith in Jesus and her new-found Christian faith was her liberation. The book is called ‘The Locust Years’ after this very passage in Joel with God’s promise to restore the years the locusts have eaten – in her case, her time with the Moonies.

The Christian Church is about the business of seeing people restored in Christ. And if we’re not about that, we barely deserve the name ‘church.’ What used to be called ‘the harvest of souls’ is the restoration of people through the love of God in Christ. It’s why John Wesley said we had no business except the saving of souls.

Thirdly and finally, we have the restoration of all things:

Here we’re moving to the famous verses at the end of the reading (28-32) about God pouring out his Spirit on all flesh – sons and daughters, old, young, and servants alike. And I hope you’re thinking, ‘I hear that every year on Pentecost Sunday, because Peter quotes it in his sermon.’

It’s set in the middle of language about ‘the great and dreadful day of the LORD’ and contains references to the sun being turned to darkness and the moon to blood. The nature of this language is clearly not literal. After references to the sun going dark and the moon turning to blood, do not expect someone like Carol Kirkwood or Elizabeth Rizzini or Tomasz Schafernaker to pop up and add, ‘These will be followed by sunny intervals and scattered showers.’

So we’re in ‘end times’ language here, but that doesn’t mean a short countdown to the Second Coming. We have been in the end times since the Resurrection, and that’s one reason this language occurs at Pentecost. God’s kingdom has come and is coming, but it’s overlapping with the old order of things.

Therefore, God’s goal of ‘making all things new’ with a new creation that includes new heavens, a new earth, and a new Jerusalem that we read about in Revelation 21 doesn’t just all pop up at the end of history as we know it. That stuff begins now. Salvation and deliverance in every form have begun.

Hence, even now God wants to bring restoration in every way. And we the church are his agents of transformation. You name it, God wants to do it. The restoring of relationships with him. The restoring of relationships between people. The restoring of our broken relationship with creation. The restoring of the body. The restoring of a just and peaceful society. All these (and probably more!) are the many and varied harvests of restoration which God desires.

Naturally, not all of these things will come in all their fulness before Jesus appears to wrap things up. Don’t we all have the agonised experience of unanswered prayer? But let’s go for as much as we can get. Let’s not give up in despair, because some things have gone wrong. Let’s set out on this wonderful ministry of restoration that we have been given as the people of God. With the help of the Holy Spirit who is poured out on us, as these verses from Joel say, let’s confront the brokenness of this old order with the ministry of restoration that Jesus began and entrusted to us.

Who knows how much of a harvest we might see?

0

Paul’s Favourite Church 3: Christlike Relationships (Philippians 2:1-11)

Philippians 2:1-11

What are our ambitions for our church? Is that a good question to ask at my first service at a ‘new’ church?

Typically, people say, we want to attract more members, especially younger people. Or we want our worship to be more lively. Or – well, you add in other examples.

Wouldn’t a better ambition than all of these be to say, we want our church to be Christlike?

Because it sounds to me like that’s what Paul is encouraging the Philippians to set as their ambition. He loves that church, and he wants the best for it. So far he has told them how he is sure God is at work among them and he has encouraged them with ways to bear their suffering for the faith.

But at the root of all of this is that he wants them to be Christlike, and especially to demonstrate that in their relationships with one another.

The quality of our relationships is so important. I don’t know the latest research in the UK about why people leave the church, but recent studies in the United States show that forty-two percent of all church leavers gave ‘hypocrisy’ as a reason for leaving. It was the top reason.

Now I know there is that witty rejoinder to people who say they want nothing to do with the church because of all the hypocrites where we say, ‘There’s always room for one more,’ but I think we should dwell on the issue for a moment. Hypocrisy means that our words and our actions don’t match up. In terms of our relationships, it means we talk about love but then don’t love one another.

I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what a lot of those American church leavers had experienced.

I therefore think it’s important that we give a priority to Christlike relationships, and in today’s reading Paul tells us what that will involve.

The first sign of Christlike relationships that Paul describes here is unity:

Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, 2 then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind.

Christ is united with the Father and the Spirit; we are united with Christ and experience the fellowship of the Spirit; it’s only natural for Christians to experience unity of love, spirit, and mind.

What makes us one? Well, it’s not simply being members of the human race, because sin has fractured that unity. It’s unity in salvation by grace through faith in Christ, a salvation that comes to us from the Triune God, whose mind is authoritatively revealed to us in the Scriptures.

We don’t necessarily believe all the same things as other Christian traditions. We may differ on things like who may be ordained as leaders and our understandings of the sacraments. But if we hold together on salvation, the Trinity, and the supreme authority of God being revealed in the Bible, then we can have a united relationship that transcends our differences, even when those differences mean our unity is imperfect.

But Paul wasn’t thinking about our wider ecumenical debates of today. They didn’t exist then. He was addressing a local church. He wants them to hold together on these basic issues and live out their faith as one people.

Are we a church where we can count on one another when the chips are down? Are we a fellowship where we will speak well of one another, even when we disagree on secondary matters? Or are we just a collection of snooker balls, who bounce off each other every Sunday morning?

I grew up in an increasingly multi-racial church in north London. When my grandmother, who lived with us, died, our church friends rallied around. The West Indian and West African members of our house group treated us the way they would have treated bereaved friends at home. They turned up with meals they had cooked for my parents, my sister, and me. They came and took domestic duties off my mum. They did everything they could so that we as a family could spend time together, talking about my grandmother and grieving her loss. What a profound experience of united love that was. I shall never forget it.

If you know your Methodist history, you will know that the preacher who got John Wesley preaching in the open air was George Whitefield. However, later Wesley and Whitefield had deep theological differences. And one day, one of Whitefield’s followers spitefully asked him whether he would see Wesley in heaven.

But Whitefield’s reply was a model of Christian unity. ‘Oh no,’ he said, ‘but that will be because Mister Wesley will be far closer to the throne than me.’

How do we practise our unity in Christ?

The second sign of Christlike relationships is humility:

3 Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, 4 not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.

As we go on to hear in verses 6 to 11, the Jesus story shows that he is the very example of humility, in giving up his status and position in the Incarnation and the Cross. If Jesus, with his ranking in the universe does it, then how much more us?

Yet too many churches have members who jostle for position, like James and John wanting to sit at Jesus’ right and left hand in glory. Too many Christians have the pathetic ambition to be a big fish in a small pond. I see it in church members full of self-importance and ministers chasing the ‘big jobs’ in the church nationally.

How sad that building for God’s kingdom and its vision of a new creation where earth and heaven will be renewed is too small and unsatisfying for these people. Yet what could be more rewarding than playing our part in God’s eternal purposes?

At the other end of the spectrum we have people who so undervalue themselves that they see themselves as worthless. This too is not humility.

What are we looking for, then?[1] The American pastor Rick Warren put it well:

Humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less. Humility is thinking more of others. Humble people are so focused on serving others, they don’t think of themselves.[2]

And CS Lewis described it beautifully:

Do not imagine that if you meet a really humble man he will be what most people call ‘humble’ nowadays: he will not be a sort of greasy, smarmy person, who is always telling you that, of course, he is nobody. Probably all you will think about him is that he seemed a cheerful, intelligent chap who took a real interest in what you said to him. If you do dislike him it will be because you feel a little envious of anyone who seems to enjoy life so easily. He will not be thinking about humility: he will not be thinking about himself at all.[3]

You know what? I think those words of Lewis sound rather like a description of Jesus. We are looking for people who are thinking about others above themselves. And so the challenge is to ask whether that is a predominant characteristic of people in our church.

Finally, the third sign of Christlike relationships is servanthood:

The final verses of the reading may (or may not) be taken from an early Christian hymn, and they tell the Jesus story – from pre-existence with the Father through the Incarnation to the Cross and Resurrection, the Ascension and eventually the Last Judgment.

It’s a story we often tell in the church with the purpose of describing what Jesus did for our salvation. And that’s right. But it’s not what Paul does with it here.

In this case, Paul tells the Jesus story not to call people to Christian commitment, but to show us what living as a Christian disciple looks like. It’s ethical.

So we hear that Jesus ‘did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage’ but ‘made himself nothing’, took on ‘the very nature of a servant’, and ‘humbled himself by becoming obedient to death.’

And maybe ‘servant’ is the most important word in that cluster. For a servant was ‘nothing’ in that society. A servant had to be obedient. And so on.

If we want to look like Jesus, then we will serve others.

This is such a contrast to much of what we see promoted in our culture, where the talk is of self-fulfilment, meeting our own needs, charity beginning at home, and so on. The Christian church is meant to look different from this.

But sometimes we too imbibe the values of the wider world. We turn the church into a consumer organisation where the job of the church is to please me and give me what I want. This is not the spirit of Jesus.

I’ve been told to my face by people in the past that my job as a minister is to please everybody. Well, no it isn’t. That isn’t servanthood. That’s capitulating to consumerism.

I’ve also been told when arriving to take a service as a visiting preacher that I was there to entertain people. But that is an attitude that is all about taking and not remotely about giving. Therefore it is the opposite of servanthood. And once again, the church has become infected by the world.

I once knew a church where a minister called people to take on certain jobs to serve the fellowship. But people replied, ‘We don’t do these things. We pay others to do them for us.’

We need to recover the call to imitate Jesus who served. It was by an attitude of servanthood that he transformed the world. Let’s stop assuming that this is something that is done by others.

It means we take Jesus and his example seriously. He is not our comfort blanket. He is our Lord and Saviour.

If we serve one another, copying (however imperfectly) Jesus, then alongside our humility and unity there will be something distinctive about us that differs from so much of what the world offers and yet encapsulates what so many people long for.

This is central to our true identity as church. Let’s make sure we’re about this Jesus work.

[1] Both of the following quotes were found in Aaron Armstrong, C.S. Lewis on Humility: What He Wrote is More Powerful Than What He Didn’t

[2] Rick Warren, The Purpose Driven Life: What on Earth Am I Here For? (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2012), 149

[3] C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis Signature Classics (New York: HarperCollins Publishers) 128

0

New Series: Paul’s Favourite Church; 1. Christians Under Construction (Philippians 1:1-11)

Philippians 1:1-11

How do you choose a church? Some of us don’t: we grow up in it. My sister and I were fifth generation, same congregation.

Others of us move into an area and look for a new church. We may consider the denomination, the style of worship, or the theological outlook. We may look for one that has good children’s ministry. North American research has suggested that on that continent the number one consideration is the quality of the preaching.

But these options weren’t available in the early decades of Christianity. You came to faith and you joined the local group of believers in your city, who probably met in one of the larger Roman houses owned by a wealthy member of the congregation, and that was that.

Yet for an apostle like Paul, travelling from place to place planting new churches and overseeing them, there was an opportunity to see which churches were doing better. And while you might argue he shouldn’t have had favourites, the warmth of his letter to the Philippians contrasts strongly with the way he has to speak to some of the other churches, such as the Galatians and the Corinthians.

This doesn’t mean the Philippians were perfect: we shall encounter some issues they had as we explore the letter. But it does mean we can get an idea of what made them so attractive to Paul. And that may help us as we seek to be an appealing and attractive congregation today. Listen to his warm words in verses 7 and 8 to get a sense of his feelings for them:

7 It is right for me to feel this way about all of you, since I have you in my heart and, whether I am in chains or defending and confirming the gospel, all of you share in God’s grace with me. 8 God can testify how I long for all of you with the affection of Christ Jesus.

In the surrounding verses, we hear of his joy, his confidence, and his aspirations for the Philippians. When we hear the substance of his joy, confidence, and aspirations we get a sense of why he loved them so much. From that we can ponder whether we have these lovable traits, too.

So firstly, why is Paul joyful?

3 I thank my God every time I remember you. 4 In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy 5 because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now

He is joyful, because the Philippians are in partnership with him in the gospel. In what ways have they done this?

We know from later in the letter that they have sent gifts via a courier named Epaphroditus to help Paul in need. That might be financial support, or that might be material provisions, especially because he is dictating this letter from prison. In those days, friends and family of the prisoner had to supply their everyday needs, such as food.

We also know that two women in the congregation called Euodia and Syntyche and a man named Clement have been missionaries or evangelists alongside Paul.

Partnership in the gospel is not just a matter of words but of deeds for the Philippians. They have raised money – not just generally for charity, but specifically for the work of the gospel. And they have sent people to be part of God’s mission. They have skin in the game.

In what ways do we go into partnership in the gospel? Take the question of raising funds. Many churches are good at doing that for charities, and I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, but I am saying it’s not the same as funding the spread of the gospel. Many churches are also good at raising money for Christian organisations that provide disaster relief or other support to the poor, and that is good, because it is a way of demonstrating the gospel. It’s part of sharing the love of God in our deeds.

But in my experience of Methodist churches, raising money and practical support for the spread of the gospel in word is far rarer. In what ways can we get behind those whose call it is to urge people to come to faith in Christ? We seem to forget that unless we support evangelism, there will be no church. The church is always just one generation away from extinction.

There are many organisations we could support. Some specialise in bringing the gospel to students. I know someone who runs a network out of Southampton for women sharing the gospel with other women. Some groups specialise in rural areas, others in our cities, and so on.

And what about releasing some of our people for this work? Who are the folk in our congregations who talk naturally and easily about their faith in Jesus? Are these the individuals we should be encouraging and supporting to pursue a calling more specifically?

Imagine the joy this would bring to the wider church and to church leaders if we were explicit in our partnership in the gospel.

Secondly, why is Paul confident?

6 being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.

I will be open with you: this is one of my favourite verses in the Bible. It’s why I entitled this sermon ‘Christians Under Construction.’ ‘He who began a good work in you will complete it.’ Replace the roadworks sign that says, ‘Danger, men at work’ with ‘Danger, God at work’!

Or to put it another way, this is a time of year when I, who do not watch much television, set the Sky box to record three consecutive Monday night shows on BBC2. Because Monday night becomes brainy quiz night. Only Connect, Mastermind, and University Challenge. I don’t care that I can only answer a few of the questions: I like being stretched.

And there in the middle is the famous catchphrase from Mastermind: ‘I’ve started, so I’ll finish.’ This, says Paul, is what God has promised the Philippian Christians. And this, says Paul, is the basis of his confidence. He has seen enough to be confident that God will see things through in their lives. He will complete the work of what John Wesley called ‘Christian Perfection.’

The Philippians are indeed Christians under construction. They are not the finished article. Paul is well aware of that. Again, later in the epistle we shall come across some of their failures and foibles. But Paul sees that bit by bit, God’s Holy Spirit is doing the work of transformation. Slowly, they are being remade in the image of Christ. Paul is confident God will see his project in them through to completion. This is an attractive feature of the Philippian church.

And yes, this work is all of God, but it takes a co-operation with the Holy Spirit for it to happen. This speaks well of the Philippian Christians. They are committed to seeing God’s transforming work happen in their lives.

We too will be an appealing community of God’s kingdom if the same is true of us. I am sure many of us can look back on our lives and tell stories about how God has done a makeover in our lives – something the late great Christian philosopher Dallas Willard called ‘The renovation of the heart.’ I’m sure if we take a moment to reflect we can each identify an example in our lives.

But here’s the thing: so often, such testimonies are accounts of what happened in the past. Do we also have a testimony in the present of God’s renewing work?

This means we cannot be complacent Christians. By all means let us rightly rejoice in what God has already done in our lives. But let us also be committed to hearing the still, small voice of the Spirit whispering to us about the next item on God’s agenda of change for us. And let us also encourage one another when we see signs of God being at work in our brothers and sisters.

Thirdly and finally, what are Paul’s aspirations?

9 And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, 10 so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, 11 filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ – to the glory and praise of God.

I suppose you could say that Paul’s aspirations are, ‘I like what I’ve already seen in you Philippians, now I pray that God does more.’ It’s the kind of prayer that follows through on his joy that they partner in the gospel and his confidence that God hasn’t stopped working in their lives.

But here Paul gets a little more specific about how he would love to see God continue to work among these people. It goes roughly like this: if you love God more that means you will know God more, which means you will know God’s will better, and then you will want to do that will. That seems to be the sequence he envisages: love God more – know God better – know God’s will – do God’s will.

My guess is that the Philippians share Paul’s aspirations for them, even if they can’t articulate them like he does. They want a deeper love and knowledge of God, so that they may know and do his will. That is what they are living for. That is what Paul longs to see fulfilled in them.

But in the modern church when we meet some people like this, it scares us. We think they are freaks or extremists. The late A W Tozer once said something to the effect that if someone with a normal New Testament commitment to Christ walked into one of our churches, we would treat them as if their spiritual temperature were a fever, when the reality is that we are spiritually cold.

Now of course there are some Christians who are genuinely extreme or unbalanced, who have an unhealthy intensity. Such people make me feel uncomfortable, because something doesn’t seem quite right with them. They may be sincere, but I am not sure about how healthily they are expressing their faith.

But I can’t dismiss every Christian who makes me feel uncomfortable in the same way. Sometimes, if I am honest, there are others who leave me with an uneasy feeling because their love for Christ is so wholehearted that it shows me up as being trivial and half-hearted. I don’t like that, and it’s easier to besmirch their faith than ask myself awkward questions about the depth of my commitment to Christ.

What if we made it our aspiration for ourselves and one another that together by the grace of God we would pursue a wholesome wholeheartedness for Christ, and rely on the Holy Spirit to lead us?

Conclusion

No wonder Paul loves the Philippian church. They partner with him in the gospel. They know God is at work in their lives. They are passionate to see more of that. What an encouragement they must have been to him as he spent time in a jail in Rome.

Imperfect as we are, still under construction as we are – just like the Philippians – what can we learn from them that we too might be attractive witnesses for Christ?

0

Mission in the Bible 13: Divine Initiative Seen in the Conversion and Call of Saul/Paul (Acts 9:1-19a)

Acts 9:1-19

I don’t look forward to my eye test every two years. When they ask you how many dots you can see that have flashed up momentarily to test your peripheral vision, I’m always afraid of getting it wrong. I don’t like the sensation of the air pumped into my eye to test for glaucoma. And I’m not fond of the flashing light when they take a photo of my retina.

Last time, having gone into see the optometrist and she had completed all her tests with different lenses and reading letters on a board, and then shone her torch into my eyes, she then said to me, “Were you told last time that you are going to develop cataracts at a later date?”

“No,” I replied, while silently thinking, “Oh great, another sign of getting older.”

This famous story of Saul’s Damascus Road conversion can be organised under the theme of sight. Saul is blinded, but Ananias receives a vision. Note the contrast: blindness and vision.

When the Lord blinds Saul and later heals him, and when he speaks to Ananias in a vision, he is showing that he is in charge and he is taking a divine initiative to bring salvation not only to Saul, but also to many others.

Firstly, then, the blinding of Saul:

To all intents and purposes, Saul has a licence to kill. He is ‘still breathing out murderous threats against the Lord’s disciples’ and asks the high priest in Jerusalem for letters permitting him to take prisoner any ‘followers of the Way’ in Damascus, with the help of the synagogues (verses 1-2). I think we can safely assume that even though he only has permission to arrest people, the religious authorities in Jerusalem will probably turn a blind eye if he also kills anyone. After all, they had stoned Stephen to death, and Saul had approved (Acts 7:1-8:1).

Since Stephen’s summary execution, persecution had broken out against the disciples of Jesus. Apart from the apostles, they had scattered from Jerusalem. Surely things were out of control. They feared for their lives. Some years later, Saul (by then named Paul) would tell the Galatian Christians that he was destroying the church. This is a lethal crisis for those first believers.

But God is in charge, and if his church is powerless, he is not. He takes the initiative. Jesus intervenes.

And he intervenes in a way that counters all the sentimental ‘Gentle Jesus, meek and mild’ nicey-nicey Jesus images. He acts as the holy king in blazing glory.

Of course, Jesus has wider purposes here. Not only does he save the physical lives of believers who would have been arrested and most likely tortured and probably killed, he acts here to bring Saul to him so that many more will be saved in the spiritual sense.

But to get to that point Jesus has to act in a way that the writer and friend of C S Lewis  Sheldon Vanauken called ‘A Severe Mercy.’ Saul is so set in the ways of his misguided zeal that it will only take something radical to stop him, and, moreover, to humble him before his Lord.

So the Damascus Road conversion is dramatic, but for a specific reason. And those of us who worry that we might not be Christians because we have not had what is often called a ‘Damascus Road experience’ need not worry. A survey some years ago showed that little over a third of Christians can name the date or time of their conversion. I am one of that minority. For me, it felt like a sudden revelation. But for most believers, it is a gradual process.

Think of it this way: do you have to remember the moment of your birth to know you are alive? Of course not! None of us does! We know we are alive because we manifest the signs of life. Our heart beats. We breathe. We eat and drink. We think. We get signals from our senses and our nerves.

In the same way, the question for us in terms of faith is less, do you remember the day you were converted, and more, are you showing signs of life in Christ? Do you love Jesus and want to know him more? Is the fruit of the Spirit growing in you? Do you have a desire to worship him and to serve him in the world?

Saul needs to be stopped in his tracks and humbled. I don’t think it’s unreasonable for us in our prayers for some people and places to ask the Lord to do ‘whatever it takes’ to humble people before him and bring them to repentance and faith.

Secondly, the vision of Ananias:

Saul will become famous as Paul and will become probably the most influential follower of Jesus ever. He will carry the Gospel to nation after nation and write letters that reverberate down the centuries. Just one of them – Romans – transformed the lives of St Augustine of Hippo, Martin Luther, and John Wesley, each of whom went on to have major impacts on Christianity and the world.

But Ananias? He makes this one appearance in the story and then disappears from view. Yet, by being the model disciple he leads Saul to Christ and the implications are, as I just indicated, transformative for the world for over two thousand years so far.

When the Lord calls him in a vision, he gives the exemplary response of a Jesus-follower: “Yes, Lord” (verse 10) – or “Here I am, Lord,” as other translations render it. It’s reminiscent of the boy Samuel in the Temple in the Old Testament, hearing the voice of God for the first time and learning from Eli to say the same thing: Here I am.

Yes, Lord. Jesus appears and speaks to one who says yes to him. But if the thought of saying yes to Jesus makes us nervous, note that it did to Ananias, too. When he hears that Jesus wants him to go and lay hands on Saul (verses 11-12), he responds with an understandably anxious question:

13 ‘Lord,’ Ananias answered, ‘I have heard many reports about this man and all the harm he has done to your holy people in Jerusalem. 14 And he has come here with authority from the chief priests to arrest all who call on your name.’

I think he is somewhat like Mary when the Archangel Gabriel appears to her and tells her she is going to conceive the Messiah, despite being a virgin. She certainly had her questions.

And it’s OK for a ‘Yes, Lord’ to be accompanied by questions, because Jesus is patient to explain to Ananias why it is important that he obeys:

15 But the Lord said to Ananias, ‘Go! This man is my chosen instrument to proclaim my name to the Gentiles and their kings and to the people of Israel. 16 I will show him how much he must suffer for my name.’

Ananias has questions, but they are not a reason for him to turn ‘Yes, Lord’ into ‘No, Lord’ (which is a contradiction in terms, anyway).

Jesus gives us no guarantees of whether we will be well-known believers like Saul/Paul, or obscure ones like Ananias. What he requires of each of us is, ‘Yes, Lord,’ even if it is accompanied by questions.

Thirdly and finally, the scales drop from Saul’s eyes:

Blind Saul has nevertheless received a vision of Ananias coming to lay hands on him to restore his sight (verse 12), and now it happens. As Ananias prays, scales fall from Saul’s eyes (verses 17-18).

In a sense, scales have fallen spiritually, too, from both Saul and Ananias. Saul receives the Holy Spirit (verse 17), and he will now be able to redirect his zeal in the holy cause of Jesus and his kingdom. His baptism (verse 18) confirms this radical change of direction. Moreover, he will now have the spiritual strength to endure the suffering that will come his way as he sets out on this mission (verses 15-16).

And in Ananias’ case, he addresses Saul as ‘Brother’ (verse 17). They are not biological family, and nor is this about shared ethnic identity. They are family in Christ. Saul takes food (verse 19), which likely means that he and Ananias share table fellowship[1]. Yes, the persecutor and one who was possibly a fugitive from him[2] are one. This is the miracle of the Gospel. It is similar to Jesus bringing both Matthew the tax-collecting Roman collaborator and Simon the Zealot freedom-fighter together in his twelve disciples. Faith in Jesus does this – even, dare I say, making Spurs and Arsenal supporters one!

There is a lot of talk in the world about how there is only one race, the human race, and that there is more that brings us together than keeps us apart. Unfortunately, that well-meaning talk overlooks the way in which sin has broken relationships. But here, Saul and Ananias’ eyes are opened to see that it is Jesus who restores this unity. That human unity is now found in him.

This is what Saul, later as Paul, will say to the Galatians:

There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. (Galatians 3:28)

This is Jesus opening our eyes to the fact that the Gospel is not just personal, individual reconciliation with God – the forgiveness of our sins. It is also the healing and reconciliation of our relationships with one another.

And that’s why it’s important that the church demonstrates this if we are to be a sign of the Gospel. It’s why I love going to my church at Lindford, where the worshipping congregation goes right across the generations, across races, across social and educational backgrounds, and we hang together as one body in Christ. The politicians should be envious! Because they can’t create something like that! But Jesus can!

What will we do so that our church life is not just fellowship with people who are just like us? Do we believe at this election time that we can hold unity in Christ with Christians of differing political convictions, for example? In a deeply divided nation, this is the sort of thing that can become a powerful witness. We need to ‘see’ this so that the world will see Christ.

Conclusion

In using this metaphor of sight and blindness for this sermon, the old chorus popped into my head:

Open our eyes, Lord,
We want to see Jesus,
To reach out and touch him
And say that we love him.
Open our ears, Lord,
And help us to listen,
Open our eyes, Lord,
We want to see Jesus.[3]

But open our eyes, Lord, that we may walk with you and not resist you and need blinding and humbling to find you. Open our eyes, Lord, that we may say yes to you, even when we have questions. Open our eyes, Lord, to see that your Gospel brings reconciliation both with you and with others and help us to practise that to your glory before the eyes of the world.

[1] Craig Keener, Acts, p282.

[2] Keener, p281.

[3] Robert Cull, b 1949; Copyright © 1976 Maranatha Music.

0

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑