james’ blog

James’s Blog: Bad Examples.

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James’s Blog: Bad Examples.

One of the problems with having written a weekly blog for nearly three years is that you begin to lose track of what you have and haven’t already written. I’d love to not repeat myself, but the chances of that are pretty small. For example, have I written about motivation before?  I feel like I have, but I can’t rightly recall in what context, and even after three years I still don’t know WordPress well enough to do something like a keyword search of all my previous blogs.

I was thinking about motivation because I was wondering (again) how much motivation matters if the outcome is something good and worthy. I’ve written before about what a lazy writer I am, but if there’s one thing guaranteed to motivate me it’s reading a bad book that has been well received. It’s happened to me on countless occasions; I pick up a book with the ‘New York Times Bestseller’ seal of approval and find that it’s a bad book. I don’t just mean a book I don’t like, I mean a BAD BOOK, as in it’s horribly written. Nothing motivates me to sit down and write like seeing someone get paid lots of money for doing something I think I can do better. I think that all I really need in order to actually write a thousand-page novel is a steady supply of poorly-written bestsellers, though I’ll probably have gone insane by the time I have written chapter 6.

What I was wondering is, does it matter anyway? If I actually sit down and get something constructive done, does it matter if my motivation is hardly noble? Perhaps it’s actually God’s way of subverting my laziness, cheekily harnessing my own pride and greed? Maybe it’s really a self-destructive base for my writing – after all, can I really claim that my work is worthy if it’s initiated by something unworthy? And having thought about all that, what if my motivation is not really “I can do better” but actually “Readers deserve something better”? No answers today, just thoughts, but I can’t shake the feeling that God would rather I wrote than didn’t write. That’s enough for me at the moment, and I’ll let Him sort out the tangled weave of my motives when He gets round to it.

Hmmmmm. This definitely all feels familiar…

James’s Blog: For The Quiet Ones.

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James’s Blog: For The Quiet Ones.

I was sad to hear that Hayward’s Heath Baptist Church has lost another faithful servant.  Les Ridd, another who served on the leadership team with me, died at the end of last week.  Like Dick, he had been ill for a while, but it doesn’t make it easier.

I was thinking about Les and Dick, and what they gifted to the church, and found it simplest to put my thoughts down into one of my occasional not-poem things.

 

There are plenty of noisy servants.

“Where there are many words,” said the Teacher,

“sin is not far behind.”

(Loud men and women, we know who we are)

Many words booming from the pulpit,

or clattering onto the page

like a skip full of scrap metal.

“I tell you the truth,” says Jesus.

“They have received their reward in full.”

 

But there are also the quiet servants,

whom you have never heard,

and will maybe never even see,

(certainly not in a photo on the back of a book)

doing what they do on tiptoe.

Stacking chairs, cutting and sticking with children,

giving lifts and clearing out guttering silently in the background.

“I tell you the truth,” says Jesus.

“For them, the best is yet to come.”

 

James’s Blog: Lost in Translation.

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James’s Blog: Lost in Translation.

There are lots of different translations of the Bible. At the time of writing, the online Bible resource BibleGateway has 59 different English translations available. That’s a lot of Bible, and unless you read Greek and Hebrew yourself, you’re stuck with someone else’s interpretation.

The fact is, all translations have strengths and weaknesses. I don’t think you can argue convincingly that any translation is the One True Version, especially as – and some of you may find this hard to believe – Jesus didn’t actually speak English.

In my last sermon, I referred to Malachi 4:2. The King James Version goes with “But unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of righteousness arise with healing in his wings…”, which is a fairly literal translation of the original. Some copies of the New International Version plump for “But for you who revere my name, the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its rays…”, which is, I suspect, much closer to what the original author was trying to convey. However, in the context of my sermon, I needed the more literal KJV translation. Something was lost in the dynamic equivalence of the NIV, even though it is arguably the ‘better’ translation.

When I first made the decision to follow Jesus, I read from The Good News Bible. No-one reads it nowadays, but I will always have a soft spot for it because of the role it played in my early spiritual growth. Plus, I still think its translation of Proverbs is first-rate. When I was at university, the New Revised Standard Version was recommended to us as the best mix of readability and scholarly accuracy, so I have a copy on my shelf for that reason – but I rarely ever use it. For over two decades now, the NIV has been the translation I use in my everyday life. The Message gets a lot of stick in some circles, but Eugene Peterson’s version of the Psalms is excellent, and those who turn their noses up at his scholarship might want to check out his translation of Galatians 3:23-24:

“Until the time when we were mature enough to respond freely in faith to the living God, we were carefully surrounded and protected by the Mosaic law. The law was like those Greek tutors, with which you are familiar, who escort children to school and protect them from danger or distraction, making sure the children will really get to the place they set out for.”

In terms of Paul’s argument, that is, hands down, the best translation of those verses I have ever read, and should certainly knock all talk of ‘prisoners’ and ‘school teachers’ on the head. If you delve deeper into the concept of ‘Greek tutor’ then you can truly have your mind blown by what Paul goes on to say from chapter 3:25 to chapter 4:7…

Anyway, what I really want to ask is what your favourite translation of the Bible is, and why. Is it because it’s objectively the best translation, or is it because it’s the version that you grew up with, or the one that had a particular translation of a particular verse that you found especially helpful in a difficult time, or is it because someone you respect told you that it was the ‘best’ translation? Thankfully, the Holy Spirit is big enough and gracious enough to be found in those words, regardless of how good a version I think it is.

James’s Blog: In Memory of Dick Vesey.

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James’s Blog: In Memory of Dick Vesey.

As I sit here and type this I genuinely feel like the world is a poorer place. I don’t think I’ve ever known a calmer presence and a more gentle gentleman than Dick. Some eventful things happened to the Veseys over the years, but I don’t need many fingers to keep track of the number of times I’d seen Dick anything other than serene and unruffled. I don’t often write about my time at Hayward’s Heath, but you shouldn’t read anything into that. It’s been a key part of my journey so far, and I am thankful for the experiences that I had there, and very thankful for the people that I met and worked with. The leadership team at the church was a fantastic group, and that included Dick, the ubiquitous elder, first at Sussex Road and then at Harlands.

Dick and Hilary have been generous and supportive of our family over the years. It was Dick, with his giant pastoral heart, who took it upon himself to keep me informed about the people whom we loved, and who loved us, back in Hayward’s Heath while we were sunning ourselves in Australia. At Hayward’s Heath, I was blessed to be in a church that sometimes tolerated but often appreciated my experiments in preaching, but in writing this I have realised that Dick was probably one of the most ardent supporters of my pulpit adventures.  I don’t want anyone to feel left out, but when I think about the people who were most encouraging and positive as I wrestled with my gifting, Dick is one of the first faces to come to mind.

As is often the case, heaven’s gain is our loss. We will meet again, but in the meantime we carry on. This is what it means to be the church of Christ, the body of battling believers striving to bring the Kingdom to the Now, but dreaming of the Not Yet.

James’s Blog: More Daily Bread Thinking…

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James’s Blog: More Daily Bread Thinking…

Sometimes an idea just won’t let me go, and so it has been with my thoughts about dependence on God and just asking for what we need each day.

It occurred to me that the future is often a source of anxiety and frustration for me. It doesn’t have to be, but it is. Jesus understood the way that our minds work, which is why he said, “Don’t worry about tomorrow, because you’ve got enough to worry about today.” The thing is, the future is all in my head. How I think about it is what creates the anxiety and the frustration, not the future itself. Developing an attitude of relaxed, daily dependence on the Father is the cure.

This is what I have figured out: If I am thinking about the future, then what I have today isn’t enough, but if I am just thinking about this day, then what I have for today is an abundance. Does that make sense? If I expect God to give me everything I need for my whole life today, then He is a stingy and unhelpful deity. If I expect God to give me just what I need for today, then He is a generous and extravagant Father. I do not have nearly enough to get me to the end of my life (assuming I make it to old age), but He has provided ample to get me through the next twenty-four hours.

This isn’t a rant against wealth or putting things aside for the future, rather it’s a pointed conversation I’m having with myself about where my trust lies. If I take Jesus seriously then my focus is clear – “Put the Kingdom first, and God will take care of the rest,” he said. If I’m seriously putting God and His agenda first, then I can live fearlessly with empty hands. “Father, give us what we need for today,” becomes enough.

James’s Blog: Empty Hands.

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James’s Blog: Empty Hands.

Sometimes I challenge myself but more often I leave it to others to challenge me. Recently, I came across an observation made by someone else: the suggestion to pray for ‘our daily bread’ in the Lord’s Prayer is supposed to encourage us towards a daily trust in God to meet our needs. It challenged me because I know that even when I’m asking for my ‘daily bread’ I’m already thinking about what I’m going to eat tomorrow.  I’m not in the habit of asking God to meet my daily needs, I’m in the habit of asking Him for a surplus so that I don’t have to worry about empty cupboards for the next few years. I wonder what would happen if all I ever asked for was just what I needed for that day? I know one thing it would change – It’d certainly be an incentive to check in with my heavenly Father at least once every twenty-four hours…

It made me think about ‘stuff’, why I worry about it and why I cling so hard to it. Sometimes I think I justify acquiring stuff by telling myself that it’s another resource I can use for God’s purposes. I’m not sure I’m being entirely honest with myself, and I wonder if – in my case – empty hands are more useful to Him.

I had a little thought last weekend. What if we get to heaven and God asks us to show Him our hands? What if everyone’s hands look the same – damaged and battered and bruised and scarred? But what if our hands aren’t the same? What if God knows that some of us have wounded hands because we’ve worked hard for Him, but others of us have wounded hands because we’ve been holding on to our treasure too tightly?

James’s Blog: McChurch.

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James’s Blog: McChurch.

Welcome to St. Ronald’s,

May I take your order please?

We can give you a serving of Jesus,

With an extra helping of cheese.

 

We can do a Resurrection Burger,

And a side of Holy Ghost fries,

As long as you like it LOUD,

We don’t do any other size.

 

We’re all about convenience,

You don’t even have to stay,

No-one really likes washing-up,

That’s why we do takeaway.

 

Sure there’s other restaurants,

And other places you can eat,

But we’re cheap and quick and easy,

And we won’t disturb your sleep.

 

Don’t worry about nutrition,

Or if we’ll make your soul fatter,

As long as you leave feeling good,

Then quality doesn’t matter.

 

Our menu’s tailored just for you,

Our staff will help you to begin,

Our manager is God Himself,

But I’m not sure He’s ever been in.

James’s Blog: Meta Edition.

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James’s Blog: Meta Edition.

I’m sitting in a cafe, with my notebook and pen, trying to come up with something for this week’s blog. I’ve got a hot chocolate in front of me, and I’m waiting for God to show up. Maybe He’s down the road, with the street preacher, whose muffled but earnest words drift in through the open window. I feel guilty. Why aren’t I out there, on the street, preaching instead of sitting here with an empty page and a hot chocolate? Mentally I list the reasons, both good and bad. I offer up a quick prayer for the young man trying to get something of God’s love out into the world.

I ask myself why I feel guilty. I wonder if it’s got something to do with my view of God. I imagine myself in one of those fairground mirror funhouses , but instead of rows and rows of mirrors distorting my image, I’m looking at dozens of distorted images of God. Is that what it’s like? I scribble that down.

Thoughts and ideas zoom through my imagination, like wasps at a summer picnic. I spend a moment wondering if Belgian chocolate is really that much better than other chocolate, or if it’s just a triumph of marketing. I go back to the funhouse mirrors, and wonder if the issue is not so much false views of God, but rather false views of myself. I picture my own distorted image instead. That’s just as much a source of misplaced guilt and confusion as distorted images of God.

I look at what I’ve written. I feel like there’s something in the funhouse mirror idea and that I’m on the cusp of putting together a blog post, but the idea just won’t firm up. It’s a mist that disperses when I try to grab it. I’m distracted by the couple on the table across from me. She’s reading out the titles of articles in her magazine, while her husband (I assume it’s her husband) listens mutely. One of the articles is wondering about the real reason behind JFK’s assassination. I wonder what magazine it is, as the couple don’t look like conspiracy theorists. Maybe that’s what they want me to think…

I try to get back to the blog post. I write some more thoughts down. How do we view ourselves in the mirror of guilt? How does that distort who we are? It’s not real. It’s not how God sees us. I pause. I feel like that’s something it would be good to pray for – that I’ll see myself as God sees me, as I really am. I would pray right here and now, but I’ve just decided that I’m going to write this process up as my blog post, and I know that I’d only be praying so that I could write it down and put it in the blog because actually praying reads better than just intending to pray.

I momentarily feel a genuine yearning for the freedom of being ‘disillusioned’, and seeing myself as I really am, and seeing God as He really is. I reflect, not for the first time in my life, that it’s not actually much fun being a deep thinker. But we’re all complicated in our own way, and we all make things more complicated than they need to be. God likes simple things, I write. I notice that I’ve actually written “God likes simple things, I write”. I decide to stop before I get too clever for my own good.

The hot chocolate is gone. The street preacher might still be there. It’s time for me to go. I think God probably did turn up, in some way.

James’s Blog: Father’s Day

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James’s Blog: Father’s Day

And have you ever regretted those words,

spoken in light but planned in darkness?

Did it seem like such a good idea,

in those days before, when the three of you

laughed and danced and joked and sang

with delight, before delight had even been invented?

 

Did you know, when you said to each other,

“Let us make some people now, some good ones,”

that you were sentencing yourself

to years and years of dirty nappies,

bare feet on carelessly discarded Lego bricks,

and ungrateful teenagers blanking you every day?

 

Did you know that you would spend

sleepless nights, longing for the days

of innocence, when a grazed knee was

the worst thing in the world,

but so easily fixed with a hug, and rewarded

with the dried tears that made you feel loved?

 

Did you know that you would bear it all?

Every broken heart?

Every bad decision?

The death of every pure thing?

Every act of cruelty and hate, some so evil

that they leave an irredeemable scar on history?

 

And does the pride outweigh the shame,

and the hope outweigh the despair,

for the three who trust so much?

Do you say, “That’s my boy!”,

or “I’m so proud of her!” when we take

our first faltering steps onto the shore?

 

And do you see beyond the reborn darkness,

to the flicker of light in every act of love,

so small, so frail and yet so vital?

And when you reach down and we slap your hand away,

is your forgiveness and patience really endless?

(Because I know mine isn’t.)

 

And are you looking forward to that time,

when we’ll finally come to our senses,

and you’ll at last be buried under the weight

of all those “Best Dad Ever!” mugs

that we made or bought in secret

with the stuff you gave us in the first place?

 

And do you have a knowing smile,

or a tear in your eye, as Adams and Eves,

so desperate to become gods,

discover that divinity is hard, ugly work?

Do you ever look at the stars and wonder,

these days, who’d be a father?

James’s Blog: The Best Defence is a Good..Silence?

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James’s Blog: The Best Defence is a Good..Silence?

I’ve been reading, which gets me thinking, and thinking gets me into trouble. I’ve been thinking about how quick we are, when criticised or challenged, to leap to our own defence. I suspect we’re motivated by wounded pride rather than a sense of injustice – after all, are we quite as quick to jump to the defence of another?

When Jesus stood before his accusers he made no attempt to justify or acquit himself. He offered only silence, sprinkled with brief answers to questions. No “Let me explain…”; no “Let me tell you my side of the story…”; no “It was their fault!”; no outrage, shock or fury. Just silence. But is that really realistic? Isn’t this just an extreme example tied to the necessity of the crucifixion? Surely, if our name is dragged through the mud, we should make every effort to put people right? Shouldn’t we? Surely?

Two quotes come to mind at this point. The Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu, who said “Those who justify themselves rarely convince.” I think he makes a good point. Or then there’s something I heard once from either Neil T. Anderson or Larry Crabb (I can’t quite recall) that goes something like this: “If you are in the wrong you have no defence, and if you are in the right you need no defence.”

But does it work in so-called real life?

I know someone who once was publicly accused. He sat in a group and listened to someone make all kinds of claims against him and his character. After his accuser had finished he stood up and said, “Well, you all know me, and you can decide for yourselves if those things are true or not,” before sitting down. And that was that. There was no attempt to defend himself with words, because he had years and years of integrity and actions to speak on his behalf. No doubt there were those who would find that an unsatisfactory defence – perhaps almost an admission of guilt – but I can’t help but feel that there’s no response to criticism more powerful than a godly life.

Something to think about perhaps, but try not to get into too much trouble.

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