Tag: solitude

Lent Sermon Series 4: Outward Disciplines

Matthew 4:1-11

New readers start here: in our circuit sermon series so far, we have begun by asking what the point of Lent is, and answered that by saying that it is to do with reorienting ourselves towards Jesus.

In the second week, we took that further by asking what our relationship with God looks like.

Then last week, this week, and next week we’re looking at various spiritual disciplines that we can use to tune into Jesus and the will of God better. After all, since he draws us into a relationship of friendship, we shall be keen to know what he says and what he cares about.

Last week’s set teaching was on what we call ‘inward disciplines.’ This week we turn to what are classified as ‘outward disciplines.’ And to do that, we’re taking the familiar story of Jesus’ temptations in the wilderness that we usually read on the First Sunday in Lent, not the Fourth. But we’re not going to look at it in the conventional way, where perhaps we look at the meanings of the three temptations, or we highlight the way Jesus fasted and quoted Scripture. There was material about both of them in last week’s reflections, in any case.

This week, we are asked to think about four outward disciplines that help us focus on Jesus. There is no single Bible passage that refers to all four, but this one gets as close as any.

Firstly, submission.

Submission by ucumari photography. CC 2.0.

Jesus submitted to the Father’s will when he was led by the Spirit into the wilderness (verse 1). In fact, ‘led’ is altogether too weak a word. This is not on the same level as the inane ‘I feel led’ conversations of some Christians – you know, ‘I feel led to buy a Mars bar,’ and so on.

No: Jesus was ‘thrown out’ into the wilderness! The Father made his will known very strongly here – and Jesus submitted to it.

Not only that, Jesus submitted to human beings, not least in his trials and execution.

Here is an important Christian discipline: to submit to God and to one another. We submit to the will of God. We also submit to one another, for Paul tells us in Ephesians 5:21 to be subject to one another out of reverence for Christ.

Now some of you may be listening to this nervously, knowing that there is a bad form of submission. There are terrible stories coming out of some churches where abused wives were told by pastors to go back home and submit to their abusive husbands. Those same churches never challenged the husbands, and in some cases covered up for them. Please do not hear me as approving of anything remotely like that. It is evil. It should be reported to the police.

So what is godly submission actually about? It is a discipline that is designed to counter the selfishness of ‘me first’, which is so contrary to the way of Jesus. Jesus gave up the glory of heaven and – as Paul says in Philippians 2 – made himself nothing, and took the form of a servant, becoming obedient even to death on a cross.

Let that be a challenge for Lent and for the whole of our Christian lives. How am I putting the will of God before my own will? How am I preferring others to me? This is what submission is about.

Secondly, solitude.

Public Domain image

Jesus goes to the wilderness alone. This is a solitary act of discerning the Father’s will and battling evil spiritual forces. It is something he would practise during his ministry when he took himself off on his own to pray.

There is much that the Bible teaches us about being together as the People of God: we are the Body of Christ and we all need each other. We worship together. We have fellowship and study the Bible together.

But we also need solitude. Every one of us needs those times when it is just ‘God and me.’ I need to relate to God myself. I need to know the voice of his love for me. I need to know what he is saying to me. I need to tell him what is on my mind and heart. Much as I need other people, I cannot rely on them to do the spiritual life for me.

This has all sorts of surprising benefits. Our willingness and ability to practise solitude with God contributes to the other side, where we relate to others. True solitude makes us better at fellowship! Being present with God enables us to be present with others. The great German Christian Dietrich Bonhoeffer said that you cannot practise true fellowship unless you know how to practise solitude with God.

So this is not a call to go off and live in a remote place as a hermit. Nor is this a call to enter some kind of spiritual loneliness. The truth of Genesis 2 remains that God says it is not good for us to be alone. We need helpers.

Perhaps we don’t like the thought of solitude with God because we might feel spiritually exposed. But that is a good thing. Because solitude does not expose us before a vengeful, angry God who wants to fry us at the first opportunity.

No: we enter solitude with a God of mercy, grace, and love. And if in that relationship he highlights something uncomfortable in our lives, it is so that he can heal it and we can draw closer to him.

Let us ask ourselves how we set aside time to be in solitude with God.

Thirdly, simplicity.

Simplicity by Premier Photo. CC 2.0.

I think we can reasonably infer that – apart from the story we read where Jesus puts the devil in his place – he inevitably practises the spiritual discipline of simplicity. This is bare bones living. Just what Jesus needs, and no more.

We know that soon after this, Jesus will make simplicity of lifestyle a virtue for his disciples when he tells them not to store up treasures on earth but in heaven. Later in his ministry he will send his disciples out two by two to nearby villages ahead of his arrival, and he will instruct them not to take with them more than they need.

I can remember a big emphasis in the church when I was in my teens that promoted the slogan, ‘Live simply so that others can simply live.’ The trouble is, there is no set level below which we are living simply and above which we are living greedily. We each have to discern this prayerfully and thoughtfully.

You can even see different responses among the disciples of Jesus. On the one hand, think of the fishermen who left their nets and their family businesses to follow him. But also think of the wealthy women in Luke 8 who funded a lot of Jesus’ ministry, having stayed put.

Simplicity is not only about being able to give generously to others, it is also about being content. Look how stressed many people become because they are not content, and because they are sucked in by the advertisers and influencers. What kind of witness is it to show such people that you can have peace of mind without that strain and hassle?

Our television has had a particular fault for a while, and at the beginning of the year I suggested we look for a new one in the sales. We found a good model that would do everything we wanted at nearly £200 off the list price. However, Debbie then raised some questions and doubts about the wisdom of proceeding then and there. So we decided to be content with the current TV, despite the issue.

Where is Jesus calling us to practise the discipline of simplicity so that we have more to give or so that we can exhibit the peace of contentment?

Fourthly and finally, service.

Credit: Wellcome Library, London. Wellcome Images images@wellcome.ac.uk http://wellcomeimages.org
A disgruntled gouty man ringing a bell for his servant who is just leaving the room. Etching. CC 4.0.

I said in the introduction that no single Bible passage covers all of the four outward disciplines, and this is the one I cannot really infer from the account of Jesus’ temptations in the wilderness. Although if I were pushed, I would say that it follows from the discipline of submission with which we began!

But we know that in any case Jesus had much to teach about this later. You have only to go on to Matthew 20, where two of the disciples, James and John, get their mother to speak to Jesus and ask that he grant them the privilege of sitting on his right and his left in his kingdom. Jesus uses that faux pas to teach that in his kingdom leaders do not lord it over others, but serve, just as he came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.

If we want to become like Jesus, then we need to imitate him. In a sense, that’s what we’ve been talking about with all of these spiritual disciplines: do what Jesus did. As the saying goes, it isn’t rocket science.

And nowhere could it be plainer than in this discipline: service. Jesus served people when he healed them, when he gave his time to them, when he taught them. For Jesus, live was not gimme, gimme, gimme: it was, what can I give to others?

Now while this attitude is still widely admired in our society, it is also true that it is perhaps more admired in the breach. So much of our language is about us wanting our rights and wanting what we deserve.

Jesus, though, shows us a different way to live. In fact, not simply different: it’s in an opposite spirit. Serve.

We might not like the word ‘servant.’ We think of people who had an inferior status, whether we are the generation that watched Upstairs, Downstairs, or the generation that watched Downton Abbey.

And it’s worse if we think of the word ‘slave.’ Not only do we have the terrible history of slavery in the world, we have recent examples of modern slavery, such as the appalling case in the news the other day of the woman who enslaved another woman for twenty-five years and treated her with unbearable cruelty.

We cannot control how others treat us. But Christianity is not about upping our social status anyway. And in any case, God will be pleased with us and will affirm us and reward us if we follow in the footsteps of Jesus by taking the decision to serve others. And as we do so, we shall become more like him.

Which is our goal. Isn’t it?

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Second Sunday in Lent: Worship in the Wilderness – A Simple Journey

This week we consider how the spiritual disciplines Jesus used in the wilderness are ones we can use to put him first in our lives.

Luke 4:1-13

One of the regular moans I always used to hear in churches was older people complaining that younger people lacked discipline. It used to be accompanied by comments regretting the abolition of National Service. Well, the latter is fading into distant memory now – even I am too young to have been ‘called up’.

But what strikes me is that a place where we really could do with more discipline is in the Church. I would say that discipline is a required characteristic of a Christian disciple. I say that because Jesus in his life exhibited serious discipline. And we are called to imitate him.

Nowhere is the discipline of Jesus more apparent than in the story of the wilderness temptations. On a day when in our series we’re thinking about the simplicity of the wilderness journey, I want to show you how spiritual discipline is at the heart of that simplicity.

Those who teach about spiritual disciplines such as Richard Foster and the late Dallas Willard talk about ‘disciplines of engagement’ and ‘disciplines of abstinence’. The disciplines we see in Jesus’ forty days in the wilderness are very much disciplines of abstinence, where he puts aside something for a season to concentrate on God.

Here, then, are three disciplines of abstinence that helped Jesus focus on his Father and which also help us to focus on our God.

The first, then, is simplicity itself.

Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, left the Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the wilderness (verse 1)

Jesus leaves behind civilisation with all its trappings to go to a stark place where he will concentrate on his Father. In church history, we’ve seen the Desert Fathers, monks, and nuns, and especially hermits, do something similar.

Sometimes the cares of this world and its trappings get in the way. People make demands on us. Possessions distract us. Money worries or tempts us. It can be good to put these things to a side for a limited period to focus on prayer. And by doing so we are making a radical statement: ‘Lord, you are more important to us than money, work, and possessions. You are Number One in my life.’

How do we do it today? It can be helpful as part of our simplicity to travel to somewhere else so that we don’t have those material distractions in front of us. There aren’t too many deserts around here, but we have plenty of heathland.

For those of us who have a smartphone, then it is probably a good idea to turn off all the notifications and perhaps put it on Airplane Mode.

Clear your diary for a few hours, or a whole day if you can. Get as far away from material clutter as you can. Take a Bible. Listen to God and read the Scriptures. Pour out your heart to God about all things large and small. Have a notebook so that you can write down your impressions of what God says to you in your conversation.

Amazingly, you will still have distractions! Your mind will run off on all sorts of tangents. At that point, it is worth remembering the Apostle Paul’s example when he said ‘We take every thought captive to make it obedient to Christ’ (2 Corinthians 10:5). Do that either by writing down the thought in your notebook so that you can return to it at a better time or turn the thought into prayer.

The second discipline of abstinence for a simple journey is solitude.

It’s apparent from the story that Jesus went alone into the wilderness. Leaving the Jordan also meant leaving people behind.

Solitude is different from loneliness. Solitude is where we lay aside the distractions of people (even loved ones) with their requests, requirements, needs, and demands, to put God first and foremost in our life. Solitude is thus a clear choice, whereas loneliness is more something that happens to us, and is usually experienced as something unwanted and not chosen.

We have experienced a lot of aloneness this last year due to the pandemic. Some of us have experienced that as deeply unwanted loneliness. Others of us, especially those of us who get energised by being alone, have managed to make it into an experience of solitude, even solitude with God.

The last thing I want to do in talking about this is to diminish the sense of loneliness that many people have experienced in the last year. But I do want to challenge those of us who love our social lives and maybe even like to be the centre of attention. For the discipline of solitude is one that says we are willing temporarily to put aside the people who energise us and the people we love to concentrate on our Father in heaven. Solitude is a time when I confess that I am not the centre of the universe and I am not to be everyone’s centre of attention. Rather, our God is to be the centre of our attention. The act of prayer in solitude is thus an act of worship, acknowledging that God the Father is on the throne, not me.

Yes, as I said, you may need to have your smartphone with you when you go off for your time with God in case there are family emergencies, but the discipline of solitude is there to emphasise by physical act that our God comes first before every single other person, even those we love the dearest.

A married couple I know only committed themselves to Christ and to Christian faith in their adult life, several years after they had married. The point came when, a few years after becoming Christians, one day the wife confessed to the husband: ‘There is someone I love more than you.’

After the shocked silence she added, ‘It’s Jesus.’ Her husband was thrilled.

I am not suggesting we neglect our loved ones. But relationships have been so elevated in our society to the point where people expect their spouse or partner to provide for their needs in a way they can’t, namely in a way that only God can. We need to redress that imbalance, that idolatry. Solitude with God is one way of doing that.

The third discipline of abstinence practised by Jesus in the wilderness is, of course, fasting.

Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, left the Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, 2 where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing during those days, and at the end of them he was hungry.

This is the one we expect to hear about in Lent. It’s the discipline on which all our ‘giving up something for Lent’ is based. And although these days that has also been turned around into a positive idea of taking up something good for Lent, I suggest that taking up something rather misses the point of giving up something.

For one thing, maybe we want to take up something because we can’t face giving up something. If we recognise that tendency, we should be concerned.

But for another, taking up something overlooks the whole idea of disciplines of absence, which is to say that God is more important to us than our possessions, than people, and – in the case of fasting – food.

That’s why fasting is connected so much to prayer in the Bible. When we fast and pray we are saying to God, you matter more to us than even the food that keeps us alive. And what’s more, it is more important to us to hear you speak and see you do something about this issue we are bringing to you in prayer.

Now I am aware that there will always be people for whom it is medically questionable to fast. I am not going to ask anyone to do something that their doctor would say was inadvisable or dangerous.

But fasting does say something important to a society like ours that is so obsessed with consumption. Because of that, I do support the idea of extending the notion of fasting from food to other things. What has gained too much of our affection in place of God and needs to be put back where it belongs? Do we need to fast from Netflix or Spotify? What is that thing of which we say, ‘I can’t get enough of this,’ and which therefore needs putting back in its place below the throne of God by fasting from it?

To conclude, the purpose of spiritual disciplines is to cultivate in thought and action the core Christian confession that Jesus is Lord. The disciplines of abstinence we have thought about today are ways of doing that.

This is not about being a killjoy. And it is not about expecting everyone to become a hermit. It is about pursuing disciplines that put created things and people in their right place under the reign of Christ, and cultivating those disciplines so that they become ingrained as virtuous habits in our lives.

May God grant us the grace to live a disciplined life of love and faith in his Son.

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Sabbatical, Day 25: Ash Wednesday Soup

I’m going to be nice about Iona today. Specifically about one of their confession prayers.

Yes, you read both of those sentences correctly. The confession in chapel this morning was more refreshing – and challenging – to my mind. It was modelled on the verse in Isaiah 55 where God says ‘My ways are not your ways’. It thus consisted of a series of stark contrasts between the ways of God and of humans. So we got a clearer focus on God in the confession as a result, in my opinion.

Wednesday is not a normal lecture day here. After morning chapel, students keep silence until 10 am when they meet in their pastoral groups, then at 11 they all meet together with the Principal for Community Coffee. I’m not sure what happens in the afternoons – I think it must be free for study. I decided I would observe silence with the students before taking another walk into town to buy presents for Debbie and the children.

Trinity was the first place I ever observed any extended silence, on college Quiet Days. At first it frightened me. There is something terrifyingly loud about the way one’s own thoughts invade and clamour for attention. Yet silence, with the accompanying discipline of solitude, is a sign of health and vitality in the life of the Spirit. On one of those Quiet Days, I remember deciding I would read Dietrich Bonhoeffer‘s ‘Life Together‘. Figuring it was only ninety or a hundred pages, I was sure I could get through it easily in one day. I couldn’t. Bonhoeffer packed such a punch with every sentence, the book kept stopping me like brakes on a car. What I most remember is him saying that no-one is fit for community life who cannot also embrace solitude. This morning, the silence was not a ringing in my ears but a recharging of my batteries.

Then I went off present-hunting. I found an art shop and bought some little models for the children to paint. I won’t say what I bought Debbie, because she occasionally reads this blog. I just hope she likes my purchase.

Lunch was suitably spartan for Ash Wednesday: soup and bread. But it wasn’t gruel. There was a choice between carrot and coriander soup (which I normally consume by the gallon) and a fish and cream soup. Both were accompanied by two types of bread: one was a tomato bread, the other I’m not sure, but it was good. I got through two bowlfuls of the fish and cream soup. Debbie dislikes both fish and mushrooms, and they are two things I love, so if I’m not at home to eat and I get the chance, I take advantage. This one had vague similiarities with the most wonderful soup I have ever tasted: cullen skink at Sheena’s Backpackers’ Lodge cafe in Mallaig, the fishing port at the northern end of the Road to the Isles in Scotland.

At the end of lunchtime, I had the joy of spending twenty minutes or so catching up with my old tutor John Bimson.

What to do this afternoon? Still feeling very disciplined after the morning silence, I read more of Goldsmith and Wharton’s book ‘Knowing Me, Knowing You‘, especially the chapters on personality type in the church. I concentrated on those sections specific to my own personality type of INTP. Time and again, I read paragraphs and thought the authors had met me. Yes, I am someone who likes to bring new vision to a church, because I’m more about the future than the present, more big picture than fine detail.

And – apparently, my personality type often gets frustrated with regular local church ministry and ends up in sector ministry. In particular, my type often likes to engage in research. I felt another underlining of the sense I’d had at Cliff College a fortnight ago about doing a PhD. Well, no, more than that: I felt like the research idea came up and mugged me again.

So to the weekly college communion service at 5 pm. Trinity is an evangelical college, but very much what is called an ‘open evangelical‘ college. It is not hardline Calvinist/fundamentalist. Secure in a commitment to biblical authority, it believes there is value to be found in other Christian traditions, too. Today that meant the Lord’s Supper conducted in a more Anglo-Catholic style, complete with incense, processing and the like, and of course an ashing ceremony. I don’t think a real Anglo-Catholic would have recognised it as a complete facsimile, not least because the music was mainly from evangelical and charismatic sources. But it was a genuine attempt to be sympathetic. And I find the imposition of ashes to be a powerful symbolic act. It sends a tremor through me every time. I’m glad we have it in the Methodist Worship Book, too. I haven’t washed mine off yet. The only pity was that just the first half of the words were used with the imposition of the ashes: ‘Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return’, but they forgot to say, ‘Turn from your sin and follow Christ.’

On to dinner and another great conversation with the other former lecturer of mine who is still on the staff here, John Nolland, along with his wife Lisa. John has ‘a brain the size of a planet’ and authored the three volumes on Luke’s Gospel in the Word Biblical Commentary. More recently, he has written a highly acclaimed commentary on Matthew for the New International Greek Text Commentary on the New Testament. We learned from some top-class scholars here, and so do the current students, with staff such as Gordon and David Wenham here, to name but two of many.

During the Peace in the communion service, the Principal, George Kovoor, shared the Peace with me and then continued the conversation. He invited me to book an appointment with him to chat over coffee for half an hour. The only problem is, I shall only be able to offer tomorrow afternoon, and I’ll be pleasantly surprised if he has space in his diary for then at such short notice. I’ll let you know tomorrow whether it comes off. I hope it will. He is a genial man, and if you click the link I gave to him above you’ll be exhausted just reading about him. I spoke to him on Monday, explained who I was and he told me he was a Methodist minister, too. It’s true. He is Indian, and was ordained in the Church of North India, which is a united denomination. Yesterday, he gave a notice to the community, saying that he was going to play a student at table tennis. He wouldn’t ask for prayer, because last time he played someone and asked for prayer he won, and he didn’t want an unfair advantage this time. Turns out he won anyway.

See you tomorrow.

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