Learning to Stand
The final third of Watchmen Nee’s life was without doubt the hardest.
In early 1949 the Communist Army entered Peking, and by October had proclaimed the People’s Republic of China. Whilst they espoused freedom of religion, it was inevitable that there would be a clash with Christianity, and as a prominent Christian leader Nee would soon learn what it meant to ‘stand’ against the most fierce opposition.
In his exposition of Ephesians, recorded in Sit, Walk, Stand, Nee showed that spiritual conflict was unavoidable. ‘Christian experience begins with sitting and leads to walking,’ he wrote, ‘but it does not end with these. Every Christian must learn to stand. Each of us must be prepared for the conflict.’ His thinking was based on the repeated use of the word ‘stand’ in Paul’s description of the spiritual battle in Ephesians 6:10-20, and he saw the willingness to stand fast despite opposition from Satan and the powers of darkness as the third important principle of the Christian life.
Nee was careful to point out that believers do not need to gain the victory over the enemy by their own efforts. Christ has already defeated Satan at the cross, so all we have to do is to hold the ground that he has won. We fight only to maintain and consolidate his victory. If we find ourselves in spiritual conflict it is because Satan wants to dislodge us from the ground Christ has given us, but all we need to do is to ‘stand’ and to exercise our faith in him, using the authority of his name. We do not fight for victory, but from victory, and the key is to live in dependency upon Christ. ‘Only those who sit can stand,’ he insisted. ‘Our power for standing, as for walking, lies in our having first been made to sit together with Christ. The Christian’s walk and warfare alike derive their strength from his position there.’
He saw the conflict described by Paul in Ephesians as being real and powerful, directed firstly at our personal walk with God, and then secondly at the work of the Lord. He loved to share stories of how the power of God had triumphed over the demonic forces behind the idolatry and superstition so common in China, but he was aware how real the battle was. Just how fierce this conflict could become he would discover for himself as Communist rule took hold.
From the start of the Communist takeover he sensed that time was short and he urged his followers to seize every opportunity to share their faith freely. He gave himself to the urgent preparation of written materials, working hard into the night so the truth could be shared easily with others. At first he perhaps naively thought that some degree of co-operation with the new government might be possible, but the presence of informers in church meetings, and the start of ‘accusation’ meetings (to expose those who did not hold to the communist beliefs) showed this could never be so.
At his suggestion, many of the main leaders of the Little Flock left China for other parts of South East Asia, but Nee himself bravely remained in Shanghai. ‘It has taken so long to build up the church there. Can I possibly desert them now?’ he asked. ‘Did not the apostles remain in Jerusalem under such conditions?’
By 1951 most expatriate missionaries had been forced to leave the country, and the government had organised existing churches under one umbrella, the Three Self Reform Movement of the Church in China (that is, self-governing, self-propagating and self-financing). In fact it was directed by the government and had no voice of its own. Its members were encouraged to denounce any who had associations with imperialistic foreigners, and fearing for their safety the majority went along with this.
Attention turned to Nee later that year when he was publicly denounced by a former church member, and eventually in April 1952 (he was then 50 years old), he was arrested for being a ‘lawless capitalist.’ His case eventually was heard in 1952 when a series of trumped-up charges was brought against him, followed by a large ‘accusation meeting’ in the very hall where he had taught the Bible and led his people in prayer. In April he was found guilty of all charges and sentenced to 15 years imprisonment with reform by labour.
Conditions in the prison were tough, and the day divided into eight hour sections of labour, education and rest. He was not allowed a Bible and was subject to communist indoctrination. He was allowed only an occasional visitor, and spent his time translating scientific books into Chinese. As he waited for his release news came that his wife, Charity, and fallen from a chair and died, presumably of a stroke. Nee was heart-broken and must have felt his isolation keenly.
His release date came and went, but he was eventually transferred to an open prison and work camp. However, the climate and physical toil affected him badly and his health deteriorated. Almost 20 years after his sentence had begun, and with no end to his imprisonment in sight, Watchmen Nee passed into the Lord’s presence on 1 June 1972, aged 69. He had been a true soldier of Jesus Christ, and a faithful witness to the very end.
Nee is remembered mostly for his Bible teaching and his writings, although most were published after his death and he was never aware of the esteem in which he is held in by so many. But he also stands within that elite group of followers of Christ who have been called to suffer for him, and to lay down their lives for him. As such his live speaks a message as eloquently as any book, summed up in his own watchword: ‘I want nothing for myself; I want everything for my Lord.’
Monday 12 December 2011
Saturday 3 December 2011
Meeting Mr Nee (2)
Learning to Walk
In the early part of his life, the famous Chinese Christian leader Watchman Nee was laying the foundations of his walk with God, learning what it means to be seated with Christ (Ephesians 2:6). Once grounded in this great truth we see that his middle years were given to Christian service and to walking worthily of the gospel (Ephesians 4:1,17, 5:2,8,15).
Throughout the Bible ‘walking’ is a metaphor for Christian life and conduct. Nee did not envisage a life of passivity, but of a step-by-step obedience to the will of God. He himself was very active in ministry, and in Sit, Walk, Stand he taught that the Christian life must be worked out in practical ways, as described in the middle chapters of Ephesians. ‘Sitting describes our position with Christ in the heavenlies,’ he wrote. ‘Walking is the practical out-working of that heavenly position here on earth. Unless we bring heavenliness into our dwellings and offices, our shops and kitchens, and practise it there, it will be without meaning.’
The great vision that fired his own heart was for the gospel to reach the whole of China. He taught much about the inner life but was always concerned with evangelism, and travelled extensively throughout the country to preach the good news.
Nee quickly saw the potential of literature to reach this goal, and moved to Shanghai in 1927 to begin a publishing ministry - producing a teaching magazine, along with booklets and tracts based on his preaching. These proved to be both popular and effective in spreading the Christian message because his style was simple and uncomplicated. The only book he actually authored - The Spiritual Man - was published at this time. The many other books that bear his name were later transcriptions of his spoken messages.
Nee longed to see a local church operating on the principles of the New Testament, and in Shanghai he met others with the same desire. They began meeting together in a ‘house’ fellowship, free of the trappings of more organised religion. They rejected the need for ordained clergy, concentrating instead on developing the gifts of lay people. They provided their own training conferences for emerging leaders, and attracted many able men to their ranks, so that the movement (nicknamed The Little Flock) grew quickly. They wanted to see an indigenous, Chinese expression of Christianity distinct from that associated with the colonial powers.
The fact that none of the leaders were paid, and that believers were willing to use their homes as meeting places, meant that the movement could expand easily into other parts of the country. As people were transferred in their jobs, new centres for witness were opened up. Some moved voluntarily, taking jobs that allowed them to be involved in ministry as well (many chose to be barbers!). Soon there were more than two hundred such workers.
Nee was an enthusiastic leader, influencing many others, but not always in good health. He contracted tuberculosis (TB) and had to step back to convalesce, having almost died. Although he recovered, he continued to suffer bouts of the disease. Occasionally too he was afflicted with depression, especially when he found himself the subject of hostile criticism from fellow believers. All of this meant that he rejected extreme forms of the victorious life teaching, reminding his followers that even the apostle Paul ‘despaired of life itself’ , and that ‘we have this treasure in earthen vessels.’ (2Corinthians 1:7, 4:7). He often said, ‘To keep our hand on the plough while wiping away our tears – that is Christianity.’
As his ministry grew, and his writings circulated, so his reputation increased. He came into contact with some of the leaders of the Brethren assemblies in London, and visited England in 1933 at their request. While they had much in common, Nee was too ‘open’ in his fellowship with other Christians and the links petered out. He returned to Britain again in 1938 to speak at the Keswick Convention, and then to travel in Western Europe. His eloquent ministry and gracious manner endeared him to many.
Nee was never satisfied with his experience of God, and hungered for more. He was conscious, for example, that he often fought a battle with his temper. He experienced personal renewal through the realisation that everything we need is found in Christ ‘who has become for us wisdom from God – that is our righteousness, holiness and redemption.’ (1Corinthians 1:29) The theme of brokenness as a precursor to Divine blessing became prominent in his teaching, and while he was open to the emphasis on revival and the work of the Spirit, he felt that some revival methods worked like spiritual opium – addiction to them required an ever-increased dosage.
In early 1942 Nee stepped aside from his ministry to join his brother in establishing a pharmaceutical company. Ostensibly this was to help finance more workers, but his fellow leaders were aghast, and withdrew fellowship from him. Rumours circulated as to why Nee took this course of action but there was no evidence of any wrongdoing on his part. Later he admitted to a certain ‘boredom’ in ministry, perhaps what medieval theologians called the sin of ‘accidie’ or spiritual sluggishness. Whatever the cause, it took him some time to recover, but in 1948 he made a full confession over his failings and was restored to fellowship in the Little Flock.
He returned to ministry wiser and stronger, and with an increased output in his writings. Perhaps through the trial God had been preparing him for an even greater challenge that awaited him when the Communist Party began to gain power in China in 1949. Having learned to walk in the way of Christ he would soon be called to learn to stand his ground against those who wanted to eliminate Christianity altogether, and who would threaten his very life.
In the early part of his life, the famous Chinese Christian leader Watchman Nee was laying the foundations of his walk with God, learning what it means to be seated with Christ (Ephesians 2:6). Once grounded in this great truth we see that his middle years were given to Christian service and to walking worthily of the gospel (Ephesians 4:1,17, 5:2,8,15).
Throughout the Bible ‘walking’ is a metaphor for Christian life and conduct. Nee did not envisage a life of passivity, but of a step-by-step obedience to the will of God. He himself was very active in ministry, and in Sit, Walk, Stand he taught that the Christian life must be worked out in practical ways, as described in the middle chapters of Ephesians. ‘Sitting describes our position with Christ in the heavenlies,’ he wrote. ‘Walking is the practical out-working of that heavenly position here on earth. Unless we bring heavenliness into our dwellings and offices, our shops and kitchens, and practise it there, it will be without meaning.’
The great vision that fired his own heart was for the gospel to reach the whole of China. He taught much about the inner life but was always concerned with evangelism, and travelled extensively throughout the country to preach the good news.
Nee quickly saw the potential of literature to reach this goal, and moved to Shanghai in 1927 to begin a publishing ministry - producing a teaching magazine, along with booklets and tracts based on his preaching. These proved to be both popular and effective in spreading the Christian message because his style was simple and uncomplicated. The only book he actually authored - The Spiritual Man - was published at this time. The many other books that bear his name were later transcriptions of his spoken messages.
Nee longed to see a local church operating on the principles of the New Testament, and in Shanghai he met others with the same desire. They began meeting together in a ‘house’ fellowship, free of the trappings of more organised religion. They rejected the need for ordained clergy, concentrating instead on developing the gifts of lay people. They provided their own training conferences for emerging leaders, and attracted many able men to their ranks, so that the movement (nicknamed The Little Flock) grew quickly. They wanted to see an indigenous, Chinese expression of Christianity distinct from that associated with the colonial powers.
The fact that none of the leaders were paid, and that believers were willing to use their homes as meeting places, meant that the movement could expand easily into other parts of the country. As people were transferred in their jobs, new centres for witness were opened up. Some moved voluntarily, taking jobs that allowed them to be involved in ministry as well (many chose to be barbers!). Soon there were more than two hundred such workers.
Nee was an enthusiastic leader, influencing many others, but not always in good health. He contracted tuberculosis (TB) and had to step back to convalesce, having almost died. Although he recovered, he continued to suffer bouts of the disease. Occasionally too he was afflicted with depression, especially when he found himself the subject of hostile criticism from fellow believers. All of this meant that he rejected extreme forms of the victorious life teaching, reminding his followers that even the apostle Paul ‘despaired of life itself’ , and that ‘we have this treasure in earthen vessels.’ (2Corinthians 1:7, 4:7). He often said, ‘To keep our hand on the plough while wiping away our tears – that is Christianity.’
As his ministry grew, and his writings circulated, so his reputation increased. He came into contact with some of the leaders of the Brethren assemblies in London, and visited England in 1933 at their request. While they had much in common, Nee was too ‘open’ in his fellowship with other Christians and the links petered out. He returned to Britain again in 1938 to speak at the Keswick Convention, and then to travel in Western Europe. His eloquent ministry and gracious manner endeared him to many.
Nee was never satisfied with his experience of God, and hungered for more. He was conscious, for example, that he often fought a battle with his temper. He experienced personal renewal through the realisation that everything we need is found in Christ ‘who has become for us wisdom from God – that is our righteousness, holiness and redemption.’ (1Corinthians 1:29) The theme of brokenness as a precursor to Divine blessing became prominent in his teaching, and while he was open to the emphasis on revival and the work of the Spirit, he felt that some revival methods worked like spiritual opium – addiction to them required an ever-increased dosage.
In early 1942 Nee stepped aside from his ministry to join his brother in establishing a pharmaceutical company. Ostensibly this was to help finance more workers, but his fellow leaders were aghast, and withdrew fellowship from him. Rumours circulated as to why Nee took this course of action but there was no evidence of any wrongdoing on his part. Later he admitted to a certain ‘boredom’ in ministry, perhaps what medieval theologians called the sin of ‘accidie’ or spiritual sluggishness. Whatever the cause, it took him some time to recover, but in 1948 he made a full confession over his failings and was restored to fellowship in the Little Flock.
He returned to ministry wiser and stronger, and with an increased output in his writings. Perhaps through the trial God had been preparing him for an even greater challenge that awaited him when the Communist Party began to gain power in China in 1949. Having learned to walk in the way of Christ he would soon be called to learn to stand his ground against those who wanted to eliminate Christianity altogether, and who would threaten his very life.
Friday 25 November 2011
Meeting Mr Nee (1)
Watchmen Nee (1903-72) was one of China’s greatest Christian leaders, controversial to some, but widely respected for his whole-hearted devotion to God and his ability as a Bible teacher. He was given the rather unusual name ‘Watchmen’ because it was his mother’s prayer that he would be one who would warn others of danger or arouse them to opportunity.
Nee was a third generation Christian, converted as an eighteen year old student through the preaching of the itinerant evangelist Dora Yu. At once he saw the implications of his decision to follow Christ, recognising it meant a lifelong obedience to One whose demands were justifiably total.
Shortly after his conversion he left home to spend a year studying the Bible under the guidance of Miss Yu. His love of the Scriptures, and his profound insight into their meaning, characterised his whole life. He returned to his home in Foochow to finish his college studies, and finding a few other young men of faith, quickly formed an evangelistic band to reach out to other students, with great effect.
An Anglican missionary, Margaret Barber, took him under her wing and became a mentor to him. He was both zealous and headstrong as a young man, and it took some straight talking from her to keep him on the right path. He had a great appetite for learning, and devoured her library of Christian writings. In particular, he wanted to understand the cross. Already he had begun home meetings on Sundays where his followers could break bread together and worship God in this informal setting.
His early twenties were a time for proving the faithfulness of God in various ways, and for growing in faith. He believed that if God sends you, he will support you, and lived by the principle ‘give, and it will be given you.’ Time and again he saw God provide for him financially. Having decided to give himself fully to the work of the gospel, he began a series of preaching tours, and learned to trust God to demonstrate his supernatural power to pagan hearers of the message.
Not that everything went smoothly for him. Some of his friends took exception to his preaching style, and perhaps to his independence from the more traditional churches, and asked him to stop attending their house meetings. Although later they acknowledged they had made a mistake, this wounded Nee deeply, causing him to reflect on his ways. He began to realise that the preacher matters to God as much as the preaching, and that God would need to work out in him what he would proclaim through him.
Opportunity came for him to visit Malaya for a preaching trip, providing further opportunity to develop his understanding of the gospel. From his early days he had produced a magazine called Revival, and this provided a platform for him to share with others his ideas and reflections. By his mid twenties his unique approach to the gospel was taking shape.
Part of Nee’s effectiveness as a preacher lay in his ability to make plain that the way to God lies solely through the finished work of Christ. All too many Christians in China were prone to strive after a salvation based on their own good works, an approach little removed from the Buddhism in which they had grown up. In his teaching on Ephesians (published in 1952 as Sit, Walk, Stand) he sought to help his hearers grasp the point that Christianity does not begin with a big DO, but with a big DONE.
Here was a great truth that he had grasped in his own early years as a believer – that the Christian life from start to finish is based upon the principle of utter dependence on Jesus. Having died on the cross for our sins, he sat down at the right hand of God (Hebrews 1:3, Ephesians 1:19), having completed the work of salvation. We are now invited to sit with him (Ephesians 2:6) and to share in the benefits of his finished work.
But what does it mean to ‘sit down’? It means that by faith we are to cease from striving to make ourselves right with God, and instead to rest in what he has done for us at the cross. We are simply to step by faith into the enjoyment of all he has provided for us. ‘It is not that we work for God,’ he says, ‘but that He works for us. God gives us our position of rest. He brings his finished work and presents it to us, and then He says, ‘Please sit’ (ch’eng tso).’
For Nee, the whole of our Christian experience continues on this basis, of not depending on our own work, but always relying on the prior work of God. Every new spiritual experience begins with a new ‘sitting down’. We can receive the Spirit because of the exaltation of Jesus, and the outpouring of the Spirit at Pentecost (Acts 2:33). We are ‘in Christ’ and united with him because of God’s direct action (1Corinthians 1:30). We can be free from sin because we have been crucified with Christ (Galatians 2:20). These are great historic facts, and we enter into them by faith. The Christian life begins with us sitting down.
Nee was a third generation Christian, converted as an eighteen year old student through the preaching of the itinerant evangelist Dora Yu. At once he saw the implications of his decision to follow Christ, recognising it meant a lifelong obedience to One whose demands were justifiably total.
Shortly after his conversion he left home to spend a year studying the Bible under the guidance of Miss Yu. His love of the Scriptures, and his profound insight into their meaning, characterised his whole life. He returned to his home in Foochow to finish his college studies, and finding a few other young men of faith, quickly formed an evangelistic band to reach out to other students, with great effect.
An Anglican missionary, Margaret Barber, took him under her wing and became a mentor to him. He was both zealous and headstrong as a young man, and it took some straight talking from her to keep him on the right path. He had a great appetite for learning, and devoured her library of Christian writings. In particular, he wanted to understand the cross. Already he had begun home meetings on Sundays where his followers could break bread together and worship God in this informal setting.
His early twenties were a time for proving the faithfulness of God in various ways, and for growing in faith. He believed that if God sends you, he will support you, and lived by the principle ‘give, and it will be given you.’ Time and again he saw God provide for him financially. Having decided to give himself fully to the work of the gospel, he began a series of preaching tours, and learned to trust God to demonstrate his supernatural power to pagan hearers of the message.
Not that everything went smoothly for him. Some of his friends took exception to his preaching style, and perhaps to his independence from the more traditional churches, and asked him to stop attending their house meetings. Although later they acknowledged they had made a mistake, this wounded Nee deeply, causing him to reflect on his ways. He began to realise that the preacher matters to God as much as the preaching, and that God would need to work out in him what he would proclaim through him.
Opportunity came for him to visit Malaya for a preaching trip, providing further opportunity to develop his understanding of the gospel. From his early days he had produced a magazine called Revival, and this provided a platform for him to share with others his ideas and reflections. By his mid twenties his unique approach to the gospel was taking shape.
Part of Nee’s effectiveness as a preacher lay in his ability to make plain that the way to God lies solely through the finished work of Christ. All too many Christians in China were prone to strive after a salvation based on their own good works, an approach little removed from the Buddhism in which they had grown up. In his teaching on Ephesians (published in 1952 as Sit, Walk, Stand) he sought to help his hearers grasp the point that Christianity does not begin with a big DO, but with a big DONE.
Here was a great truth that he had grasped in his own early years as a believer – that the Christian life from start to finish is based upon the principle of utter dependence on Jesus. Having died on the cross for our sins, he sat down at the right hand of God (Hebrews 1:3, Ephesians 1:19), having completed the work of salvation. We are now invited to sit with him (Ephesians 2:6) and to share in the benefits of his finished work.
But what does it mean to ‘sit down’? It means that by faith we are to cease from striving to make ourselves right with God, and instead to rest in what he has done for us at the cross. We are simply to step by faith into the enjoyment of all he has provided for us. ‘It is not that we work for God,’ he says, ‘but that He works for us. God gives us our position of rest. He brings his finished work and presents it to us, and then He says, ‘Please sit’ (ch’eng tso).’
For Nee, the whole of our Christian experience continues on this basis, of not depending on our own work, but always relying on the prior work of God. Every new spiritual experience begins with a new ‘sitting down’. We can receive the Spirit because of the exaltation of Jesus, and the outpouring of the Spirit at Pentecost (Acts 2:33). We are ‘in Christ’ and united with him because of God’s direct action (1Corinthians 1:30). We can be free from sin because we have been crucified with Christ (Galatians 2:20). These are great historic facts, and we enter into them by faith. The Christian life begins with us sitting down.
Saturday 24 September 2011
A film, a book and a Psalm
Travelling back from Uganda recently I had the opportunity to watch the film, The Way, starring Martin Sheen. It tells the story of an American eye doctor, Tom (played by Sheen), whose estranged son dies while walking the El Camino de Santiago, an ancient pilgrimage from the French Pyrenees to Spain.
Tom travels to France to recover the body, but realises there is some unfinished business, and decides instead to have the body cremated and to scatter the ashes along the route of the pilgrim way. His intention is to travel alone but circumstances dictate otherwise, and he reluctantly teams up with three others: Joos, an overweight Dutchman who wants to lose weight; Sarah, a chain-smoking American who wants to quit; and Jack, an Irish author with writer’s block who wants to rediscover his creativity.
Their journey together becomes a journey of self-discovery, in some ways a modern day version of Pilgrim’s Progress. The dialogue between the four is sharp and amusing as they rub the rough edges off each other, and whilst not overly Christian, there is enough spiritual insight in the film to make it both enjoyable and thought-provoking. The DVD comes out on October, and I can highly recommend it.
Watching the film brought to mind a book which I had read earlier in the year and really enjoyed – Pilgrimage of a Soul by Phileena Heurtz (IVP). The connection is that it is her account of her real life pilgrimage along El Camino de Santiago.
Heurtz works as co-director for an international organisation that works amongst the poorest people of the world. In 2007 she and her husband were given a sabbatical, and as part of that period determined to make a literal pilgrimage. For 33 days they walked the El Camino, and the journey became a metaphor for her of her spiritual journey, with all its ups and downs.
“Pilgrimage is a metaphor for growth and transformation,” she writes. “To grow is to progress from one place to another; to be transformed is to transition from one form to another; to embark on pilgrimage is to leave where one is and to arrive where one is not yet.”
The trials of the journey, and having the time to think, enabled Heurtz to give attention to what was happening within her soul, in particular the movement away from her false self to the discovery of her true self in Christ. It is a moving and challenging account, and I would suggest essential reading for anyone who seriously wishes to find the union between contemplative spirituality and the active life.
Which brings us to the Psalm, and one of my favourites, Psalm 84. This is essentially a pilgrim Psalm, sung by Jewish believers as they made their way to Jerusalem for one of the tree annual sacred assemblies. I have often led retreats based on these beautiful verses under the heading ‘Pilgrims Making Progress’, but for now let me remind you of verse 5: “Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage.”
Here we have a reminder that each one of us is on a sacred journey or pilgrimage – the journey through life, the journey of discipleship, the inner journey of transformation. There is a path marked out for each of us, and as we walk along our particular road it is an opportunity for us to find God and our true selves.
Such a journey is never easy, and there are days when we are tempted to give up; but take heart from this film, and this book, and this verse. God will strengthen us so we can finish our journey, and bless us along the way.
Tom travels to France to recover the body, but realises there is some unfinished business, and decides instead to have the body cremated and to scatter the ashes along the route of the pilgrim way. His intention is to travel alone but circumstances dictate otherwise, and he reluctantly teams up with three others: Joos, an overweight Dutchman who wants to lose weight; Sarah, a chain-smoking American who wants to quit; and Jack, an Irish author with writer’s block who wants to rediscover his creativity.
Their journey together becomes a journey of self-discovery, in some ways a modern day version of Pilgrim’s Progress. The dialogue between the four is sharp and amusing as they rub the rough edges off each other, and whilst not overly Christian, there is enough spiritual insight in the film to make it both enjoyable and thought-provoking. The DVD comes out on October, and I can highly recommend it.
Watching the film brought to mind a book which I had read earlier in the year and really enjoyed – Pilgrimage of a Soul by Phileena Heurtz (IVP). The connection is that it is her account of her real life pilgrimage along El Camino de Santiago.
Heurtz works as co-director for an international organisation that works amongst the poorest people of the world. In 2007 she and her husband were given a sabbatical, and as part of that period determined to make a literal pilgrimage. For 33 days they walked the El Camino, and the journey became a metaphor for her of her spiritual journey, with all its ups and downs.
“Pilgrimage is a metaphor for growth and transformation,” she writes. “To grow is to progress from one place to another; to be transformed is to transition from one form to another; to embark on pilgrimage is to leave where one is and to arrive where one is not yet.”
The trials of the journey, and having the time to think, enabled Heurtz to give attention to what was happening within her soul, in particular the movement away from her false self to the discovery of her true self in Christ. It is a moving and challenging account, and I would suggest essential reading for anyone who seriously wishes to find the union between contemplative spirituality and the active life.
Which brings us to the Psalm, and one of my favourites, Psalm 84. This is essentially a pilgrim Psalm, sung by Jewish believers as they made their way to Jerusalem for one of the tree annual sacred assemblies. I have often led retreats based on these beautiful verses under the heading ‘Pilgrims Making Progress’, but for now let me remind you of verse 5: “Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage.”
Here we have a reminder that each one of us is on a sacred journey or pilgrimage – the journey through life, the journey of discipleship, the inner journey of transformation. There is a path marked out for each of us, and as we walk along our particular road it is an opportunity for us to find God and our true selves.
Such a journey is never easy, and there are days when we are tempted to give up; but take heart from this film, and this book, and this verse. God will strengthen us so we can finish our journey, and bless us along the way.
Sunday 11 September 2011
The case of the headless Christ
This is a true story and was shared by an experienced missionary at a retreat I was leading recently.
The lady in question (a good Protestant) was going to a Catholic retreat Centre for a thirty day Ignatian retreat. Now anyone who puts themselves forward for such an experience is serious about following Jesus, and she most definitely is. She had geared herself up for what she expected would be a watershed experience in her Christian life, and travelled to the retreat centre in a state of high spiritual intensity.
When she arrived she was shown to the little bedroom that would be her home for the next month. As she unpacked she decided to re-arrange what little furniture there was to make it more homely. As she did so, she brushed passed a crucifix hanging on the wall above the bed, and it fell to ground with a thud. She stooped to pick it up, but was distressed to find that the head had broken off, and she was left holding a headless crucifix. Getting down on her hand and knees she saw the head had rolled like a miniature football under the bed, so she reached out and recovered it, but now she had a dilemma.
Should she replace the crucifix (now headless) on the wall, and hope that no-one noticed? Or should she hide it away in the drawer, and also hope that no-one noticed it was missing? Either way, she wondered how her Catholic friends would react to a broken crucifix, and just how serious a spiritual offence decapitating a figure of Jesus might be considered. What kind of penance might she be asked to perform?
After some internal struggle she decided the best thing would be to conceal the broken crucifix, along with the head of Jesus, in her bedside cabinet, praying that her misdemeanour would go undetected. She resolved that at the first opportunity she would go into the nearby town, buy some superglue, and re-attached the head.
It was not until almost the end of the retreat that this was possible as the daily schedule was tight and retreatants were discouraged from leaving the centre so as not to interrupt the flow of their retreat. Eventually, having procured the superglue, and having performed some minor surgery, she re-attached the head to the body and the crucifix was returned to its place on the wall. There it remains to this day, with the head intact, and only the faintest of lines to be tell where the damage had been.
As she recounted this adventure to us, we rolled with laughter, and she did too. She told us that the most important word that came to her during the retreat was this: LIGHTEN UP! Her vulnerability in telling us this story brought healing to us all, for laughter does that. As Proverbs says: ‘A cheerful heart is a good medicine, but a broken spirit saps a person’s strength.’ (17:22)
It wasn’t Oswald Chambers who said, ‘Beware intensity in religion’, but it could have been for it is the kind of thing he would have said. Sometimes the more zealous we are for God the more serious we become, and intensity and grace don’t mix too well. When we get intense it is usually a sign that we have moved over into self-effort and are getting into religious mode. Grace frees us to be relaxed and natural, even in our seeking after God, and to enjoy what Sheila Walsh termed ‘the incredible lightness of grace.’
May you and I seek after God with all our hearts, but do so without the intensity that robs us of our joy or playfulness.
The lady in question (a good Protestant) was going to a Catholic retreat Centre for a thirty day Ignatian retreat. Now anyone who puts themselves forward for such an experience is serious about following Jesus, and she most definitely is. She had geared herself up for what she expected would be a watershed experience in her Christian life, and travelled to the retreat centre in a state of high spiritual intensity.
When she arrived she was shown to the little bedroom that would be her home for the next month. As she unpacked she decided to re-arrange what little furniture there was to make it more homely. As she did so, she brushed passed a crucifix hanging on the wall above the bed, and it fell to ground with a thud. She stooped to pick it up, but was distressed to find that the head had broken off, and she was left holding a headless crucifix. Getting down on her hand and knees she saw the head had rolled like a miniature football under the bed, so she reached out and recovered it, but now she had a dilemma.
Should she replace the crucifix (now headless) on the wall, and hope that no-one noticed? Or should she hide it away in the drawer, and also hope that no-one noticed it was missing? Either way, she wondered how her Catholic friends would react to a broken crucifix, and just how serious a spiritual offence decapitating a figure of Jesus might be considered. What kind of penance might she be asked to perform?
After some internal struggle she decided the best thing would be to conceal the broken crucifix, along with the head of Jesus, in her bedside cabinet, praying that her misdemeanour would go undetected. She resolved that at the first opportunity she would go into the nearby town, buy some superglue, and re-attached the head.
It was not until almost the end of the retreat that this was possible as the daily schedule was tight and retreatants were discouraged from leaving the centre so as not to interrupt the flow of their retreat. Eventually, having procured the superglue, and having performed some minor surgery, she re-attached the head to the body and the crucifix was returned to its place on the wall. There it remains to this day, with the head intact, and only the faintest of lines to be tell where the damage had been.
As she recounted this adventure to us, we rolled with laughter, and she did too. She told us that the most important word that came to her during the retreat was this: LIGHTEN UP! Her vulnerability in telling us this story brought healing to us all, for laughter does that. As Proverbs says: ‘A cheerful heart is a good medicine, but a broken spirit saps a person’s strength.’ (17:22)
It wasn’t Oswald Chambers who said, ‘Beware intensity in religion’, but it could have been for it is the kind of thing he would have said. Sometimes the more zealous we are for God the more serious we become, and intensity and grace don’t mix too well. When we get intense it is usually a sign that we have moved over into self-effort and are getting into religious mode. Grace frees us to be relaxed and natural, even in our seeking after God, and to enjoy what Sheila Walsh termed ‘the incredible lightness of grace.’
May you and I seek after God with all our hearts, but do so without the intensity that robs us of our joy or playfulness.
Monday 29 August 2011
Too busy to blog?
Yes, I’m afraid that’s the case right now. The summer months are always very busy for me and one event seems to merge into another, with little time in-between.
This summer, for example, began with my taking seminars at new Horizon, a Bible Week in Northern Ireland. I was home for a week, then off again (with Evelyn) to Torquay in Devon where I did the Bible readings at a conference hosted by Marilyn Baker. The pattern continued with another week at home before heading to South Wales and a retreat at Nicholaston House. Now today, after another in-between week, I will drive down to Sussex for a retreat with a small group of mission partners.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not asking for sympathy, nor am I complaining. I love the ministry that God has given me, and I love meeting so many wonderful people. It is a joy to see God work deeply in people’s lives, and to have a small part to play in sustaining his servants; but sometimes it is busy, and often I can’t achieve all that I would want to.
Keeping up with my blog is a good example. Somewhere I read that for a blog to be effective it needs to be written regularly, say weekly or fortnightly. This encourages readers to keep following the posts. Since I began my own blog this has been an unofficial guideline which I have been able to keep to (more or less) until this summer... and now it’s weeks since I posted anything. Which means the ‘law’ (thou shalt post every week) has been nipping at my heels and biting me with guilt. Which is silly really, isn’t it, because it’s my own rule (not imposed by anyone else), and there has hardly been a public outcry at the lack of blogging activity. So why do I feel guilty?
But that’s exactly how the law works, isn’t it, and especially man-made, self-imposed religious rules. Like reading through the Bible in a year or five chapters every day; witnessing to one person each day; promising to pray for a friend overseas daily, and so on. You probably have your own favourites. These well-intentioned ideals either make us proud (because we kept them), or miserable (because we didn’t). The challenge is to live with a free conscience, doing what we know to be right to the best of our ability, but not getting screwed-up when we fail to live up to even our own expectations.
What this requires is that we know how to live under the rule of grace, not law, and that we learn how to be gracious towards ourselves. Indeed only if we are gracious towards ourselves will we be able to be gracious towards others and free of self-righteous judgementalism (is there such a word?).
So, I hope you have missed my blogs, and I hope to get into a better routine again soon as well since I love the process of writing and reflecting. But I wanted you to know that although it has been a struggle for me to not write for a while, it has been my own choice has I have had to weigh up my priorities pretty carefully, and my blog had to be sacrificed for the sake of sanity and well-being. I’m sure you understand.
PS It's been so long I couldn't remember how to make a post on my blog!
This summer, for example, began with my taking seminars at new Horizon, a Bible Week in Northern Ireland. I was home for a week, then off again (with Evelyn) to Torquay in Devon where I did the Bible readings at a conference hosted by Marilyn Baker. The pattern continued with another week at home before heading to South Wales and a retreat at Nicholaston House. Now today, after another in-between week, I will drive down to Sussex for a retreat with a small group of mission partners.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not asking for sympathy, nor am I complaining. I love the ministry that God has given me, and I love meeting so many wonderful people. It is a joy to see God work deeply in people’s lives, and to have a small part to play in sustaining his servants; but sometimes it is busy, and often I can’t achieve all that I would want to.
Keeping up with my blog is a good example. Somewhere I read that for a blog to be effective it needs to be written regularly, say weekly or fortnightly. This encourages readers to keep following the posts. Since I began my own blog this has been an unofficial guideline which I have been able to keep to (more or less) until this summer... and now it’s weeks since I posted anything. Which means the ‘law’ (thou shalt post every week) has been nipping at my heels and biting me with guilt. Which is silly really, isn’t it, because it’s my own rule (not imposed by anyone else), and there has hardly been a public outcry at the lack of blogging activity. So why do I feel guilty?
But that’s exactly how the law works, isn’t it, and especially man-made, self-imposed religious rules. Like reading through the Bible in a year or five chapters every day; witnessing to one person each day; promising to pray for a friend overseas daily, and so on. You probably have your own favourites. These well-intentioned ideals either make us proud (because we kept them), or miserable (because we didn’t). The challenge is to live with a free conscience, doing what we know to be right to the best of our ability, but not getting screwed-up when we fail to live up to even our own expectations.
What this requires is that we know how to live under the rule of grace, not law, and that we learn how to be gracious towards ourselves. Indeed only if we are gracious towards ourselves will we be able to be gracious towards others and free of self-righteous judgementalism (is there such a word?).
So, I hope you have missed my blogs, and I hope to get into a better routine again soon as well since I love the process of writing and reflecting. But I wanted you to know that although it has been a struggle for me to not write for a while, it has been my own choice has I have had to weigh up my priorities pretty carefully, and my blog had to be sacrificed for the sake of sanity and well-being. I’m sure you understand.
PS It's been so long I couldn't remember how to make a post on my blog!
Monday 27 June 2011
What's your registration?
Following on from my last post (How am I driving?), I want to continue with a motorway theme, and ask the question, ‘What’s your registration’?
I have to confess that a little hobby of mine is ‘spotting’ interesting number plates while criss-crossing the motorways of Britain. It’s not quite as geeky as train-spotting and so far I haven’t taken to writing numbers down, or taking photos, both of which could be dangerous at 70mph. But I am tempted to start a collection of interesting number plates. We could call it the Book of Numbers...
Anyway, it is an interesting fact that many drivers like to have a ‘personalised’ number plate to help them stand out from the crowd. British drivers are not really superstitious about numbers (as for instance Chinese drivers are), but they do like to play with letters and numbers to make interesting combinations. Of course many settle for a low number with their initials – for example PAH 7 – whilst others with a short name can actually use their own name – such as YE48TOM (or JOY, SUE, TED, BOB etc).
The ones I really like, and are a good ‘spot’, are the ones with a bit more invention to them. These can be quite expensive to purchase and usually go with an expensive car. Some of my best ones recently have been:
ST55ARR (no lack of self-esteem with that lady)
A1BBA (not Bjorn, but definitely a fan)
1BEX (not David, but bags of money)
AL04MEL (think about that one)
JE55HUA (at a Christian Conference Centre – the guest speaker?)
T50COD (the owner of an angling shop)
Well, I know it’s sad, but it passes the time when I’m driving and I try not to get too distracted. I don’t have a personalised number plate myself as yet, although I do try to make something of my own registration YT03NSU (Young Tony...Not So Unusual). But I do wonder what makes people pay a lot of money (often thousands of pounds) to have their own unique registration.
It may be a simple case of vanity, it might be a bit of fun, it may be the need to be noticed, or the desire to stand out. It might just be an easy way of remembering which car is yours in the parking lot! All of us want to feel we are recognised and acknowledge in some way, and I guess have a unique registration can help with our sense of identity.
I wouldn’t say No to 7ONY if I came across it, but I’m glad my identity is built on a stronger foundation than my car’s make or registration. It’s grounded in Christ, and the fact that I am in him (2Corinthains 5:17). I have worth and value because I am God’s child and have been redeemed at great cost. I matter to God, whether or not other people notice, and nothing can change that.
I have to confess that a little hobby of mine is ‘spotting’ interesting number plates while criss-crossing the motorways of Britain. It’s not quite as geeky as train-spotting and so far I haven’t taken to writing numbers down, or taking photos, both of which could be dangerous at 70mph. But I am tempted to start a collection of interesting number plates. We could call it the Book of Numbers...
Anyway, it is an interesting fact that many drivers like to have a ‘personalised’ number plate to help them stand out from the crowd. British drivers are not really superstitious about numbers (as for instance Chinese drivers are), but they do like to play with letters and numbers to make interesting combinations. Of course many settle for a low number with their initials – for example PAH 7 – whilst others with a short name can actually use their own name – such as YE48TOM (or JOY, SUE, TED, BOB etc).
The ones I really like, and are a good ‘spot’, are the ones with a bit more invention to them. These can be quite expensive to purchase and usually go with an expensive car. Some of my best ones recently have been:
ST55ARR (no lack of self-esteem with that lady)
A1BBA (not Bjorn, but definitely a fan)
1BEX (not David, but bags of money)
AL04MEL (think about that one)
JE55HUA (at a Christian Conference Centre – the guest speaker?)
T50COD (the owner of an angling shop)
Well, I know it’s sad, but it passes the time when I’m driving and I try not to get too distracted. I don’t have a personalised number plate myself as yet, although I do try to make something of my own registration YT03NSU (Young Tony...Not So Unusual). But I do wonder what makes people pay a lot of money (often thousands of pounds) to have their own unique registration.
It may be a simple case of vanity, it might be a bit of fun, it may be the need to be noticed, or the desire to stand out. It might just be an easy way of remembering which car is yours in the parking lot! All of us want to feel we are recognised and acknowledge in some way, and I guess have a unique registration can help with our sense of identity.
I wouldn’t say No to 7ONY if I came across it, but I’m glad my identity is built on a stronger foundation than my car’s make or registration. It’s grounded in Christ, and the fact that I am in him (2Corinthains 5:17). I have worth and value because I am God’s child and have been redeemed at great cost. I matter to God, whether or not other people notice, and nothing can change that.
Monday 6 June 2011
How's my driving?
I have spent a lot of time during the past few weeks driving up and down the motorways of Britain. This has given me a lot of time to reflect, and the next couple of blogs will have a ‘motorway’ theme!
Lorries and white vans are regarded by many motorists to be a menace, and often are. Occasionally you see one with a sign on the back that says ‘How am I driving?’, and gives a number to phone with feedback. It’s one way that companies can encourage their staff to drive safely. I don’t know if they get much feedback (positive or negative), and I’ve never called myself. It’s the ones without a phone number that I would like to call!
Anyway, it has made me ponder what I consider to be the worst driving offences, and I quickly compiled in my head a list of the most common. I wonder if you agree with me?
(1) Hogging the centre lane on motorways when the inside lane is clear for miles (not literally).
(2) Tailgating. Everyone hates it, but why do so many do it?
(3) Undertaking, that is overtaking on the inside. Increasingly common and still dangerous.
(4) Parking in disabled bays at motorway services when obviously fit, healthy and usually young.
(5) Driving on roundabouts without any kind of signalling. Are we supposed to guess?
(6) Driving on roundabouts without any kind of signalling whilst talking on the phone.
(7) Lorries that overtake other lorries on hills whilst travelling at only 1mph more.
I could go on, of course, but I don’t want to appear to be a grumpy old man...
Anyway, my meditation was not all negative. I began to think, what if Christian people had to wear a sign saying ‘How am I living?’, together with a number to call for feedback. That would be a challenge wouldn’t it?
Our lives are meant to be living epistles, known and read by all, but what do they say? Do we get into bad ways of behaving and speaking that annoy and irritate others and are a bad witness to our faith?
The apostle Paul recognised the power of a person’s life. He not only sought to set a good example himself, but encouraged his young disciple Timothy to do the same: ‘Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in life, in love, in faith and purity.’ (1Timothy 4:12)
There are five crucial areas of life:
Speech - how is my conversation?
Life - how is my behaviour?
Love - how is my concern for others?
Faith - how is my trust in God?
Purity - how is my thought life?
We are invited to examine our own lives and to reflect on our own behaviour, correcting anything that is amiss. But what if we invited a trusted friend, who knew us well and had our best interests at heart, to give us feedback and to hold us accountable in these five areas? Would our living improve?
Makes you think, doesn’t it?
And by the way, if you see me on the motorway, the number is ......
Lorries and white vans are regarded by many motorists to be a menace, and often are. Occasionally you see one with a sign on the back that says ‘How am I driving?’, and gives a number to phone with feedback. It’s one way that companies can encourage their staff to drive safely. I don’t know if they get much feedback (positive or negative), and I’ve never called myself. It’s the ones without a phone number that I would like to call!
Anyway, it has made me ponder what I consider to be the worst driving offences, and I quickly compiled in my head a list of the most common. I wonder if you agree with me?
(1) Hogging the centre lane on motorways when the inside lane is clear for miles (not literally).
(2) Tailgating. Everyone hates it, but why do so many do it?
(3) Undertaking, that is overtaking on the inside. Increasingly common and still dangerous.
(4) Parking in disabled bays at motorway services when obviously fit, healthy and usually young.
(5) Driving on roundabouts without any kind of signalling. Are we supposed to guess?
(6) Driving on roundabouts without any kind of signalling whilst talking on the phone.
(7) Lorries that overtake other lorries on hills whilst travelling at only 1mph more.
I could go on, of course, but I don’t want to appear to be a grumpy old man...
Anyway, my meditation was not all negative. I began to think, what if Christian people had to wear a sign saying ‘How am I living?’, together with a number to call for feedback. That would be a challenge wouldn’t it?
Our lives are meant to be living epistles, known and read by all, but what do they say? Do we get into bad ways of behaving and speaking that annoy and irritate others and are a bad witness to our faith?
The apostle Paul recognised the power of a person’s life. He not only sought to set a good example himself, but encouraged his young disciple Timothy to do the same: ‘Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in life, in love, in faith and purity.’ (1Timothy 4:12)
There are five crucial areas of life:
Speech - how is my conversation?
Life - how is my behaviour?
Love - how is my concern for others?
Faith - how is my trust in God?
Purity - how is my thought life?
We are invited to examine our own lives and to reflect on our own behaviour, correcting anything that is amiss. But what if we invited a trusted friend, who knew us well and had our best interests at heart, to give us feedback and to hold us accountable in these five areas? Would our living improve?
Makes you think, doesn’t it?
And by the way, if you see me on the motorway, the number is ......
Friday 13 May 2011
My rucksack means everything to me
My rucksack means everything to me. It is my mobile office, and accompanies me everywhere. I am never without it, home or away; it contains my whole life: laptop, ipod, mobile phone, camera, Bible, teaching materials, diary, key information and so on. Think ‘handbag’, but many times more.
So how could I forget it last week when Evelyn and I made the long five hour drive down to Ashburnham in Sussex to lead a retreat? It is inexplicable. All I can say is that after greeting the retreatants, and as I began to prepare for the welcome session, a dark cloud descended upon me as the terrible realisation dawned – my beloved rucksack was still in Yorkshire. No teaching notes, no music, no computer, no Bible... and no way to get hold of it. I have forgotten socks before, even my shirts, but never ever my rucksack.
It meant a quick prayer to the Sovereign Lord, reminding him that he is supposed to be in control of these situations, and a somewhat bumbling start to the retreat. After that I was able to borrow an antiquated CD player (what a come down after advancing to the sophistication of an ipod touch and JBL sound dock!), find a Gideon’s Bible in my room, and take up an offering of assorted CDs from the assembled group. At least we had some music to sing to, even though a bit dated and without the words. And since I had remembered the notes for the participants, I had a basis for my talks and could at least give the appearance of knowing what I was going on about.
With a great deal of goodwill and understanding from the group we got underway, and it actually proved to be a very rewarding time despite the shaky start. God was still in our 80s style worship, and the teaching seemed helpful. But a nagging thought persisted in my mind. Why had I forgotten such a vital component of the retreat? Was God trying to teach me something?
Various thoughts came to mind as the week went on. Perhaps I had made an idol out of my ipod Touch (another example of an apple leading to a fall?) Maybe I was too dependent on technology and needing to rely more on the Holy Spirit? Maybe the music I had chosen wasn’t what God wanted us to use? It was really only on the last morning that I think I got the point.
The final session (we had based the retreat on the book of Nehemiah) was about dealing with anger. In the final chapter (13), Nehemiah rather loses his cool with those who had gone back on the reforms he had introduced, and starts laying hands on people and pulling out their hair. He had obviously not seen the film Anger Management (although it was released ages ago).
As well as looking at the causes of our anger, I had planned to share a little about how often the person we are most angry with is our self. I know from personal experience that I get very frustrated with myself sometimes, and berate myself for every fault and failing. I am kind to others, but harsh with myself. It is a tendency I have been more aware of recently, and realising it is not healthy. How can we be compassionate to others if we are not first compassionate to ourselves?
As I shared with the group I had a sudden realisation. Forgetting my rucksack had provided a perfect opportunity for some top-drawer self-flagellation, some fully justified beating up of myself for such folly. ‘You stupid boy’ I could have screamed at my Inner Child with scorn and disdain. ‘Why don’t you take more care!’ And yet I had not. I was panicked for a moment, but I hadn’t blamed myself, or even my wife, or the neighbours, or even Nick Clegg. And I had refused to play the blame game, realising that it was a mistake, and another reminder of my frail humanity (and getting older?).
I take it to be an indicator of a little progress in at least one part of my life. I am learning to be a more gracious and forgiving to myself, and as I accept my own imperfections and shortcomings it will perhaps make me more understanding and less critical of the mistakes and failures of others.
So the ‘forgotten rucksack’ turned out to be a visual sermon for us all (even though it wasn’t present!), and when I finally got home at the end of the week, there it was, exactly where I had left it, all packed up and waiting to go....
And no, I didn’t kick it.
So how could I forget it last week when Evelyn and I made the long five hour drive down to Ashburnham in Sussex to lead a retreat? It is inexplicable. All I can say is that after greeting the retreatants, and as I began to prepare for the welcome session, a dark cloud descended upon me as the terrible realisation dawned – my beloved rucksack was still in Yorkshire. No teaching notes, no music, no computer, no Bible... and no way to get hold of it. I have forgotten socks before, even my shirts, but never ever my rucksack.
It meant a quick prayer to the Sovereign Lord, reminding him that he is supposed to be in control of these situations, and a somewhat bumbling start to the retreat. After that I was able to borrow an antiquated CD player (what a come down after advancing to the sophistication of an ipod touch and JBL sound dock!), find a Gideon’s Bible in my room, and take up an offering of assorted CDs from the assembled group. At least we had some music to sing to, even though a bit dated and without the words. And since I had remembered the notes for the participants, I had a basis for my talks and could at least give the appearance of knowing what I was going on about.
With a great deal of goodwill and understanding from the group we got underway, and it actually proved to be a very rewarding time despite the shaky start. God was still in our 80s style worship, and the teaching seemed helpful. But a nagging thought persisted in my mind. Why had I forgotten such a vital component of the retreat? Was God trying to teach me something?
Various thoughts came to mind as the week went on. Perhaps I had made an idol out of my ipod Touch (another example of an apple leading to a fall?) Maybe I was too dependent on technology and needing to rely more on the Holy Spirit? Maybe the music I had chosen wasn’t what God wanted us to use? It was really only on the last morning that I think I got the point.
The final session (we had based the retreat on the book of Nehemiah) was about dealing with anger. In the final chapter (13), Nehemiah rather loses his cool with those who had gone back on the reforms he had introduced, and starts laying hands on people and pulling out their hair. He had obviously not seen the film Anger Management (although it was released ages ago).
As well as looking at the causes of our anger, I had planned to share a little about how often the person we are most angry with is our self. I know from personal experience that I get very frustrated with myself sometimes, and berate myself for every fault and failing. I am kind to others, but harsh with myself. It is a tendency I have been more aware of recently, and realising it is not healthy. How can we be compassionate to others if we are not first compassionate to ourselves?
As I shared with the group I had a sudden realisation. Forgetting my rucksack had provided a perfect opportunity for some top-drawer self-flagellation, some fully justified beating up of myself for such folly. ‘You stupid boy’ I could have screamed at my Inner Child with scorn and disdain. ‘Why don’t you take more care!’ And yet I had not. I was panicked for a moment, but I hadn’t blamed myself, or even my wife, or the neighbours, or even Nick Clegg. And I had refused to play the blame game, realising that it was a mistake, and another reminder of my frail humanity (and getting older?).
I take it to be an indicator of a little progress in at least one part of my life. I am learning to be a more gracious and forgiving to myself, and as I accept my own imperfections and shortcomings it will perhaps make me more understanding and less critical of the mistakes and failures of others.
So the ‘forgotten rucksack’ turned out to be a visual sermon for us all (even though it wasn’t present!), and when I finally got home at the end of the week, there it was, exactly where I had left it, all packed up and waiting to go....
And no, I didn’t kick it.
Thursday 14 April 2011
The great Easter Egg offer
I received a voucher today by email for a ‘free treat egg’ from Thorntons, the famous chocolate makers here in England. Since I am partial to chocolate, and this particular brand, it seemed like too good an offer to miss, so I followed the instructions and printed off my personalised voucher entitling me to a free egg. I’m looking forward to collecting it later today.
For many Easter is associated with chocolate, and especially with Easter eggs – from the small creamy ones made by Cadbury’s, to the larger shell like eggs that contain a few chocolates as well. But of course the true meaning of Easter is to be found not in confectionery, but in the more serious matter of the death and resurrection of Jesus - and the truly amazing offer of forgiveness and eternal life that results from that momentous event. I know chocolate makes us feel good, but nothing compares with the knowledge that your sins are forgiven, your conscience is clear, and you are restored to relationship with God.
As I read the small print on my Easter egg offer I began to ponder the difference between that made by the chocolate manufacturers and that made by God. Thorntons were very careful to protect themselves with two important caveats.
(1) The free eggs are ‘subject to availability’ and only available ‘while stocks last’. There is no guarantee that all of their shops will stock them, or that they will be able to meet the demand following their generous offer. How different that is to the gospel of grace, that is freely available to all people at all times. There is no fear that the supply of God’s mercy and forgiveness will be exhausted.
(2) The manufacturer ‘reserves the right to withdraw the offer at any time’. Since it is only on for two days anyway, it makes me feel I need to get down there in a hurry before they change their minds. Such a clause doesn’t communicate a sincere desire to be generous, does it? Again, what a contrast to the offer of salvation. God’s invitation will never be withdrawn. It is for all time, and available to any who want to receive it. The generosity of God knows no limits and is without reservation.
Listen to God’s gracious offer as expressed by the prophet Isaiah:
‘Come now, let us reason together,’ says the Lord. ‘Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall be like wool.’ (Isaiah 1:18)
Here is a straightforward offer of forgiveness and cleansing. No ifs or buts, no provisos or qualifications, no limitations or restrictions. An offer freely available to all who will receive, at any time and in any place.
Well, since starting this blog I have been into town and collected my egg. Yes, they still had stocks, and yes, the offer was still good. It was only a small egg, worth about 30p, but an egg is an egg and I’ll certainly enjoy it this evening. But I know which offer gladdens my heart the most, and this Easter I will be asking the Holy Spirit to remind me once again just how blessed I am to know the real meaning of Easter.
For many Easter is associated with chocolate, and especially with Easter eggs – from the small creamy ones made by Cadbury’s, to the larger shell like eggs that contain a few chocolates as well. But of course the true meaning of Easter is to be found not in confectionery, but in the more serious matter of the death and resurrection of Jesus - and the truly amazing offer of forgiveness and eternal life that results from that momentous event. I know chocolate makes us feel good, but nothing compares with the knowledge that your sins are forgiven, your conscience is clear, and you are restored to relationship with God.
As I read the small print on my Easter egg offer I began to ponder the difference between that made by the chocolate manufacturers and that made by God. Thorntons were very careful to protect themselves with two important caveats.
(1) The free eggs are ‘subject to availability’ and only available ‘while stocks last’. There is no guarantee that all of their shops will stock them, or that they will be able to meet the demand following their generous offer. How different that is to the gospel of grace, that is freely available to all people at all times. There is no fear that the supply of God’s mercy and forgiveness will be exhausted.
(2) The manufacturer ‘reserves the right to withdraw the offer at any time’. Since it is only on for two days anyway, it makes me feel I need to get down there in a hurry before they change their minds. Such a clause doesn’t communicate a sincere desire to be generous, does it? Again, what a contrast to the offer of salvation. God’s invitation will never be withdrawn. It is for all time, and available to any who want to receive it. The generosity of God knows no limits and is without reservation.
Listen to God’s gracious offer as expressed by the prophet Isaiah:
‘Come now, let us reason together,’ says the Lord. ‘Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall be like wool.’ (Isaiah 1:18)
Here is a straightforward offer of forgiveness and cleansing. No ifs or buts, no provisos or qualifications, no limitations or restrictions. An offer freely available to all who will receive, at any time and in any place.
Well, since starting this blog I have been into town and collected my egg. Yes, they still had stocks, and yes, the offer was still good. It was only a small egg, worth about 30p, but an egg is an egg and I’ll certainly enjoy it this evening. But I know which offer gladdens my heart the most, and this Easter I will be asking the Holy Spirit to remind me once again just how blessed I am to know the real meaning of Easter.
Friday 1 April 2011
Spilling my coffee
I was driving home yesterday from the south of England and stopped at the service station for a short break. I ordered my usual coffee and a toasted tea cake, and sat down to read the newspaper and for a well earned rest and – an ideal way to relax! I was engrossed in the sports pages and reached out for my coffee without looking properly, and guess what? Yes, I knocked the cup flying, spilling the contents all over the table, down my right leg and shoe, and of course onto the floor. I felt clumsy, foolish and embarrassed at such a public display of carelessness, and not a little annoyed with myself.
In my distress I looked to the young man who had served me for help, and he did not fail me. Without a word of rebuke or disdain he came over with a cloth so I could dry myself, and at the same time got down on his knees to wipe up my mess. He reassured me with his words: ‘You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last!’ Clearly he had encountered human frailty before. Even more graciously, he proceeded to make me a fresh cup of coffee, and for free. Far more than his careless customer deserved!
I arrived home to be reminded of a situation in my life where I had ‘spilled my coffee’ in a particular relationship where I had also acted carelessly and without sufficient thought. It’s so easy to do that, isn’t it? A thoughtless word, an ill-considered action, and suddenly we have a right mess! And we are left feeling foolish and embarrassed.
I am so grateful for another Young Man to whom I can turn in my distress, and who is ever willing to stoop down and clean up the mess of my folly and shame. I’m speaking about Jesus, of course, the One who in his mercy forgives all our iniquities and in his grace gives us blessing we don’t deserve or merit – a fresh cup of coffee, if you like, as an added bonus!
And how amazing it is when we can call upon our brothers and sisters in Christ for mercy and forgiveness in those moments when we have offended, wounded and hurt them; when we can remember each other’s humanity and minister grace to one another, allowing love to provide a covering for our sin (1Peter 4:8, James 5:20). It is humbling and embarrassing to have to turn to another and say ‘Look what I’ve just done!’ but healing and releasing to hear the response, ‘It’s alright, I understand, I’ve done that myself before now!’
As I write this I’m feeling humbled and chastened, and in need of grace, which is not a bad place to be I guess.
‘Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ forgave you.’ (Ephesians 4:32)
In my distress I looked to the young man who had served me for help, and he did not fail me. Without a word of rebuke or disdain he came over with a cloth so I could dry myself, and at the same time got down on his knees to wipe up my mess. He reassured me with his words: ‘You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last!’ Clearly he had encountered human frailty before. Even more graciously, he proceeded to make me a fresh cup of coffee, and for free. Far more than his careless customer deserved!
I arrived home to be reminded of a situation in my life where I had ‘spilled my coffee’ in a particular relationship where I had also acted carelessly and without sufficient thought. It’s so easy to do that, isn’t it? A thoughtless word, an ill-considered action, and suddenly we have a right mess! And we are left feeling foolish and embarrassed.
I am so grateful for another Young Man to whom I can turn in my distress, and who is ever willing to stoop down and clean up the mess of my folly and shame. I’m speaking about Jesus, of course, the One who in his mercy forgives all our iniquities and in his grace gives us blessing we don’t deserve or merit – a fresh cup of coffee, if you like, as an added bonus!
And how amazing it is when we can call upon our brothers and sisters in Christ for mercy and forgiveness in those moments when we have offended, wounded and hurt them; when we can remember each other’s humanity and minister grace to one another, allowing love to provide a covering for our sin (1Peter 4:8, James 5:20). It is humbling and embarrassing to have to turn to another and say ‘Look what I’ve just done!’ but healing and releasing to hear the response, ‘It’s alright, I understand, I’ve done that myself before now!’
As I write this I’m feeling humbled and chastened, and in need of grace, which is not a bad place to be I guess.
‘Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ forgave you.’ (Ephesians 4:32)
Wednesday 23 February 2011
Practising the Presence
It’s interesting how when we are exploring a particular aspect of the Christian life, God places resources into our hands at just the right moment. You will realise from my last post that I have been challenged to seek a greater awareness of God’s Presence, both personally and at church. A few weeks ago I came across a book in a second-hand shop which I felt I should buy – The Healing Presence by Leanne Payne (Kingsway) – and it has proved to be quite a stimulus to my thinking.
I don’t know much about Leanne Payne in fact, but I associate her with what is called ‘Listening Prayer’, a particular approach to the healing ministry which is built around being sensitive to what God is saying and doing when we pray for people. That sounds like a wise strategy to me. However, the focus of this particular book is on practising the Presence for our selves, and ministering to others out of a belief that the Presence is with us.
She draws out attention to what she describes as the oldest liturgical prayer of them all, and the most powerful of all prayers: the prayer of invocation, ‘Come, Lord Jesus’ (1Corinthians 16:22, Revelation 22:20b). Perhaps the first believers would have shouted this prayer aloud, with great fervour, and in the expectation that the Risen Lord would indeed come and stand among them. Probably the communion meal would have been the context, and the moment recognised when the gifts of the Spirit began to be exercised, and healing took place. She writes, “Where the Presence of the Lord is truly invoked, there is little difficulty in believing on Him or moving in the spiritual power and authority He brings.”
I’m aware that ‘Come Lord Jesus’ can be nothing more than an empty mantra, but what if we were to pray that simple prayer until it became reality? What if we were to pause at the start of every meeting and wait for the Presence? Payne is careful to point out that it is the actual Presence, not the sensation of the Presence, that we are to seek, although of course the sense of God’s Presence is an added and welcome bonus. But it is significant, I think that we read about Jesus: ‘And the power of the Lord was present for him to heal the sick.’ (Luke 5:17)
The original tragedy of sin was that it cut us off from the Presence, causing us to become self-conscious rather than God-conscious. Salvation brings us back to the place where we can become God-conscious again, that is, living with the awareness of the Presence. Through the cross we are brought back into fellowship with God and to the enjoyment of his Presence. Congregations lose their anointing primarily through disunity – either internally among themselves, or externally in breaking fellowship with the wider body of Christ.
A growing awareness of God’s Presence then becomes the goal of the Christian life. “We learn to practice the Presence of Jesus within (our bodies are temples of his Holy Spirit, without (He walks alongside us as Companion and Brother), and all around (He is high and lifted up, and we exalt Him as Sovereign God). And we ask Him to love the world through us. We learn to collaborate with Him.”
Why not join me in seeking to become more aware of the Presence of God?
I don’t know much about Leanne Payne in fact, but I associate her with what is called ‘Listening Prayer’, a particular approach to the healing ministry which is built around being sensitive to what God is saying and doing when we pray for people. That sounds like a wise strategy to me. However, the focus of this particular book is on practising the Presence for our selves, and ministering to others out of a belief that the Presence is with us.
She draws out attention to what she describes as the oldest liturgical prayer of them all, and the most powerful of all prayers: the prayer of invocation, ‘Come, Lord Jesus’ (1Corinthians 16:22, Revelation 22:20b). Perhaps the first believers would have shouted this prayer aloud, with great fervour, and in the expectation that the Risen Lord would indeed come and stand among them. Probably the communion meal would have been the context, and the moment recognised when the gifts of the Spirit began to be exercised, and healing took place. She writes, “Where the Presence of the Lord is truly invoked, there is little difficulty in believing on Him or moving in the spiritual power and authority He brings.”
I’m aware that ‘Come Lord Jesus’ can be nothing more than an empty mantra, but what if we were to pray that simple prayer until it became reality? What if we were to pause at the start of every meeting and wait for the Presence? Payne is careful to point out that it is the actual Presence, not the sensation of the Presence, that we are to seek, although of course the sense of God’s Presence is an added and welcome bonus. But it is significant, I think that we read about Jesus: ‘And the power of the Lord was present for him to heal the sick.’ (Luke 5:17)
The original tragedy of sin was that it cut us off from the Presence, causing us to become self-conscious rather than God-conscious. Salvation brings us back to the place where we can become God-conscious again, that is, living with the awareness of the Presence. Through the cross we are brought back into fellowship with God and to the enjoyment of his Presence. Congregations lose their anointing primarily through disunity – either internally among themselves, or externally in breaking fellowship with the wider body of Christ.
A growing awareness of God’s Presence then becomes the goal of the Christian life. “We learn to practice the Presence of Jesus within (our bodies are temples of his Holy Spirit, without (He walks alongside us as Companion and Brother), and all around (He is high and lifted up, and we exalt Him as Sovereign God). And we ask Him to love the world through us. We learn to collaborate with Him.”
Why not join me in seeking to become more aware of the Presence of God?
Monday 14 February 2011
Face down
In recent weeks our attention has been drawn in church to Acts 2:42-47, the beautiful description of life in the early Christian community to which we all aspire. It is a very familiar piece, and well-worn ground as far as I am concerned, but this time as I read it a phrase leapt out at me that I had glossed over previously: ‘everyone was filled with awe’ (v43). I can’t say I’ve ever heard anyone (including myself) draw attention to this aspect of the early church, but being ‘awe-struck’ seems to have been a key ingredient in their life together.
‘Awe’ is a difficult word to define, and an emotion not easily described. The literal translation of this phrase is ‘and came to every soul fear’. Fear is the Greek word ‘phobos’ (from which we get phobia etc), and what we are talking about here is ‘reverential fear’, the respectful admiration and humble acknowledgement that comes when we are in the presence of something (or Someone) so much greater than ourselves. The experience takes our breath away (think of the Grand Canyon or similar), leaves us speechless, and makes us fall to the ground in wonder and amazement.
Now, does that often happen in your church? It doesn’t in ours. Generally speaking, Christians today have become over familiar with God, and we have lost this sense of the awesomeness of God. We have a tame, manageable deity who is predictable and can be controlled. But the backdrop to the New Testament church was a deep sense of humility in the presence of God. This was the context for the miraculous and the release of the Spirit’s power that we so long to see. I wonder if we can have the second without the first?
As I pondered this I began reading the book of Ezekiel. (As my part in the Bible reading initiatives marking the 400th anniversary of the KJV, I am reading parts of Scripture I often overlook.) There’s a lot even in the first chapter that leaves me mystified, but at the end of the chapter I came to this verse: ‘This was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord. When I saw it, I fell face down, and I heard the voice of one speaking.’ (Ezekiel 1:28).
Now here’s an experience of ‘awe’. Ezekiel is aware of the presence of God, and its effect on him is to bring him to his knees in reverent submission. The ‘glory’ of the Lord is the manifestation of his presence. That which is normally hidden becomes visible. For a moment the One who dwells in unapproachable light allows himself to be glimpsed, and it is an awe-inspiring moment.
We may be used to people being ‘slain’ in the Spirit, falling backwards ‘under the power’, but this seems to be something quite different to me because Ezekiel falls the other way – face down. He is prostrated before the Lord with his face in the dust. It is a position of deep humility, of surrender and submission, of yieldedness. The word ‘humility’ is derived from the Latin ‘humus’ which means ‘of the earth’. In the presence of God the priest is overwhelmed and truly humbled. He remembers that he is dust, created, finite, limited, human. There are no words suitable for such an encounter, only silence; no spiritual antics drawing attention to the person, only an instinctive giving way to the glory of God.
Personally, this is the kind of encounter that I long for. It frightens me, yes, but it seems to me to be far more authentic, and much more life-changing, than much of what passes for charismatic or Pentecostal fervour. To be honest, that often leaves me cold and embarrassed, because it appears to be man’s attempt to make something happen. When God comes by we don’t need to work anything up, and no-one steals his limelight. Everyone of us will be filled with awe, and no doubt on our knees like Ezekiel of old.
I think if this was the backdrop to our lives fruitful evangelism and supernatural happenings would become a matter of course. If we know personally what it is to fear God, we won’t be so easily intimidated by mere human beings; and if we have experienced his power individually, and together, our faith level is sure to rise.
As I pondered these words my thoughts settled on a great song by Matt Redman called ‘Facedown’. I have listened to it many times since as I seek a greater sense of the awesomeness of God. You can easily find it on You Tube. Why not take a moment to listen to it, in worshipful silence, as you too humble yourself before the mighty hand of God (1Peter 5:6).
‘Awe’ is a difficult word to define, and an emotion not easily described. The literal translation of this phrase is ‘and came to every soul fear’. Fear is the Greek word ‘phobos’ (from which we get phobia etc), and what we are talking about here is ‘reverential fear’, the respectful admiration and humble acknowledgement that comes when we are in the presence of something (or Someone) so much greater than ourselves. The experience takes our breath away (think of the Grand Canyon or similar), leaves us speechless, and makes us fall to the ground in wonder and amazement.
Now, does that often happen in your church? It doesn’t in ours. Generally speaking, Christians today have become over familiar with God, and we have lost this sense of the awesomeness of God. We have a tame, manageable deity who is predictable and can be controlled. But the backdrop to the New Testament church was a deep sense of humility in the presence of God. This was the context for the miraculous and the release of the Spirit’s power that we so long to see. I wonder if we can have the second without the first?
As I pondered this I began reading the book of Ezekiel. (As my part in the Bible reading initiatives marking the 400th anniversary of the KJV, I am reading parts of Scripture I often overlook.) There’s a lot even in the first chapter that leaves me mystified, but at the end of the chapter I came to this verse: ‘This was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord. When I saw it, I fell face down, and I heard the voice of one speaking.’ (Ezekiel 1:28).
Now here’s an experience of ‘awe’. Ezekiel is aware of the presence of God, and its effect on him is to bring him to his knees in reverent submission. The ‘glory’ of the Lord is the manifestation of his presence. That which is normally hidden becomes visible. For a moment the One who dwells in unapproachable light allows himself to be glimpsed, and it is an awe-inspiring moment.
We may be used to people being ‘slain’ in the Spirit, falling backwards ‘under the power’, but this seems to be something quite different to me because Ezekiel falls the other way – face down. He is prostrated before the Lord with his face in the dust. It is a position of deep humility, of surrender and submission, of yieldedness. The word ‘humility’ is derived from the Latin ‘humus’ which means ‘of the earth’. In the presence of God the priest is overwhelmed and truly humbled. He remembers that he is dust, created, finite, limited, human. There are no words suitable for such an encounter, only silence; no spiritual antics drawing attention to the person, only an instinctive giving way to the glory of God.
Personally, this is the kind of encounter that I long for. It frightens me, yes, but it seems to me to be far more authentic, and much more life-changing, than much of what passes for charismatic or Pentecostal fervour. To be honest, that often leaves me cold and embarrassed, because it appears to be man’s attempt to make something happen. When God comes by we don’t need to work anything up, and no-one steals his limelight. Everyone of us will be filled with awe, and no doubt on our knees like Ezekiel of old.
I think if this was the backdrop to our lives fruitful evangelism and supernatural happenings would become a matter of course. If we know personally what it is to fear God, we won’t be so easily intimidated by mere human beings; and if we have experienced his power individually, and together, our faith level is sure to rise.
As I pondered these words my thoughts settled on a great song by Matt Redman called ‘Facedown’. I have listened to it many times since as I seek a greater sense of the awesomeness of God. You can easily find it on You Tube. Why not take a moment to listen to it, in worshipful silence, as you too humble yourself before the mighty hand of God (1Peter 5:6).
Tuesday 18 January 2011
Flying and catching
I have been reading biographies of some of the great Christian leaders who have influenced my thinking over the years – people like A.W Tozer, John Stott, Watchmen Nee and most recently, Henri Nouwen. I love to learn about the details of their lives, to see how God shaped them for his purpose, and how they coped with trials and tribulations.
One interesting thing that emerged as I read a biography of Nouwen by Jurjen Beumer was the interest he had in the circus, and in particular in the trapeze artists. He was deeply impressed by a South African troupe called ‘The Flying Rodleighs’ whom he met in 1991. Nouwen believed that spiritual themes could be seen in the whole of life, and he saw something in the trapeze ‘story’ that he believed was a metaphor for the spiritual life. He determined to get to know them – their lives, their discipline, their fears, the thrills they enjoyed.
In the following years his friendship with The Rodleighs developed. He watched them, listened to their stories, learned to understand their techniques and studied the movements of their bodies. Gradually the trapeze ‘story’ began to emerge as a metaphor in his thinking about the Christian life.
One day Nouwen was sitting with Rodleigh the leader of the troupe in his caravan, talking about flying.
‘As a flyer I must have complete confidence in my catcher,’ said Rodleigh. ‘The public might think that I am the great star of the trapeze, but the real star is Joe, my catcher. He has to be there for me with split second precision and grab me out of the air as I come to him in the long jump.’
‘How does it work?’ asked Nouwen.
‘The secret,’ Rodleigh said, ‘is that the flyer does nothing and the catcher does everything. When I fly to Joe, I have simply to stretch out my arms and hands and wait for him to catch me and pull me safely over the apron behind the catch bar.’
‘You do nothing!’ said Nouwen, surprised.
‘Nothing,’ Rodleigh repeated. ‘The worst thing the flyer can do is to try to catch the catcher. I am not supposed to catch Joe. It’s Joe’s task to catch me. If I grabbed Joe’s wrists, I might break them, or he might break mine, and that would be the end of both of us. A flyer must fly, and a catcher must catch, and the flyer must trust, with outstretched arms, that his catcher will be there for him.’
I’ll leave it to you to work out the way this picture illustrates the Christian life, and to apply it to your own walk with God in the present moment.
One interesting thing that emerged as I read a biography of Nouwen by Jurjen Beumer was the interest he had in the circus, and in particular in the trapeze artists. He was deeply impressed by a South African troupe called ‘The Flying Rodleighs’ whom he met in 1991. Nouwen believed that spiritual themes could be seen in the whole of life, and he saw something in the trapeze ‘story’ that he believed was a metaphor for the spiritual life. He determined to get to know them – their lives, their discipline, their fears, the thrills they enjoyed.
In the following years his friendship with The Rodleighs developed. He watched them, listened to their stories, learned to understand their techniques and studied the movements of their bodies. Gradually the trapeze ‘story’ began to emerge as a metaphor in his thinking about the Christian life.
One day Nouwen was sitting with Rodleigh the leader of the troupe in his caravan, talking about flying.
‘As a flyer I must have complete confidence in my catcher,’ said Rodleigh. ‘The public might think that I am the great star of the trapeze, but the real star is Joe, my catcher. He has to be there for me with split second precision and grab me out of the air as I come to him in the long jump.’
‘How does it work?’ asked Nouwen.
‘The secret,’ Rodleigh said, ‘is that the flyer does nothing and the catcher does everything. When I fly to Joe, I have simply to stretch out my arms and hands and wait for him to catch me and pull me safely over the apron behind the catch bar.’
‘You do nothing!’ said Nouwen, surprised.
‘Nothing,’ Rodleigh repeated. ‘The worst thing the flyer can do is to try to catch the catcher. I am not supposed to catch Joe. It’s Joe’s task to catch me. If I grabbed Joe’s wrists, I might break them, or he might break mine, and that would be the end of both of us. A flyer must fly, and a catcher must catch, and the flyer must trust, with outstretched arms, that his catcher will be there for him.’
I’ll leave it to you to work out the way this picture illustrates the Christian life, and to apply it to your own walk with God in the present moment.
Saturday 1 January 2011
The Blessing of God
On 1st January 1951, shortly before he was imprisoned by the Communists, Watchmen Nee gave to the church a New Year message on the significance of God’s blessing as seen in the miracle of the loaves. He wrote:
‘All service is dependent upon the blessing of God. We may be very conscientious and very diligent, we may believe in his power and may pray to him to put it forth, but if the blessing of God is lacking, then all our conscientiousness, all out diligence, all our faith, and all our prayer is in vain. On the other hand, even though we make mistakes, and even though the situation we face be a hopeless one, provided we have the blessing of God there will be a fruitful issue….
This lesson is not easily learned. The hopes of so many are still centred, not on the blessing of the Lord but on the few loaves in their hand. It is so pitifully little we have in hand, and yet we keep reckoning with it; and the more we reckon the harder the work becomes. My brothers and sisters, miracles issue from the blessing of the Lord. Only let that be upon the loaves and they will be multiplied. Where the blessing of God rests the thousands are fed…
We should be able to trust the blessing of God and wait for it. And we should often find that, even where we had bungled things, somehow all was well. A little bit of blessing can carry us over a great deal of trouble.
What is ‘blessing’? It is the working of God where there is nothing to account for his working… When five loaves provide food for five thousand and leave twelve baskets of fragments, that is blessing. When the fruit of your service is out of all proportion to the gifts you possess, that is blessing. Or to be rather extreme, when, taking account of your failures, there should be no fruit from your labours, and still there is fruit, that is blessing. Many of us only expect results commensurate with what we are in ourselves, but blessing is fruit that is out of all correspondence with what we are…
A life of blessing should be our normal life as Christians and a work with the blessing of God upon it should be our normal work. ‘Prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it.’ (Malachi 3:10)
‘All service is dependent upon the blessing of God. We may be very conscientious and very diligent, we may believe in his power and may pray to him to put it forth, but if the blessing of God is lacking, then all our conscientiousness, all out diligence, all our faith, and all our prayer is in vain. On the other hand, even though we make mistakes, and even though the situation we face be a hopeless one, provided we have the blessing of God there will be a fruitful issue….
This lesson is not easily learned. The hopes of so many are still centred, not on the blessing of the Lord but on the few loaves in their hand. It is so pitifully little we have in hand, and yet we keep reckoning with it; and the more we reckon the harder the work becomes. My brothers and sisters, miracles issue from the blessing of the Lord. Only let that be upon the loaves and they will be multiplied. Where the blessing of God rests the thousands are fed…
We should be able to trust the blessing of God and wait for it. And we should often find that, even where we had bungled things, somehow all was well. A little bit of blessing can carry us over a great deal of trouble.
What is ‘blessing’? It is the working of God where there is nothing to account for his working… When five loaves provide food for five thousand and leave twelve baskets of fragments, that is blessing. When the fruit of your service is out of all proportion to the gifts you possess, that is blessing. Or to be rather extreme, when, taking account of your failures, there should be no fruit from your labours, and still there is fruit, that is blessing. Many of us only expect results commensurate with what we are in ourselves, but blessing is fruit that is out of all correspondence with what we are…
A life of blessing should be our normal life as Christians and a work with the blessing of God upon it should be our normal work. ‘Prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it.’ (Malachi 3:10)
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