James’s Blog: Rubbish.

James’s Blog: Rubbish.

Ruth and I have very different ideas on ‘stuff’. She thinks that if it’s not being used, and is just lying around making the place look untidy, then chuck it out. I think that if it’s not being used, and is just lying around making the place look untidy, then leave it alone. It’s not hurting anyone.

My parents were happy when I moved out. They turned up on my doorstep with cardboard boxes full of stuff I’d left in their attic. Boxes of things like cinema ticket stubs, old posters and last year’s exam papers. Basically, boxes full of fire hazards.

When we got married, Ruth said, “You don’t need that stuff. Get rid of it.” I stood my ground, because I knew that a day would come when she desperately needed to know the name of a film I had seen at the cinema ten years previously, and then I’d be laughing.

But that day never came, and now it’s all gone. It’s not the first time my wife has been right about something, and it won’t be the last.

You throw out stuff that you don’t need, but you don’t throw out the useful, shiny stuff. I’m sure we’ve all got stories of people we know, on their hands and knees, going through the bin because they think that they threw away the receipt or the money from a birthday card or some other good thing that they didn’t mean to lose. No-one deliberately throws away good things. Well, as Fred Craddock once suggested, no-one except Paul of course.

Whatever was to my profit, he told the Philippians, I now consider loss for the sake of Christ.

He was talking about all the useful, shiny stuff he had. His academic achievements, his hard work, his A+ credentials. You don’t need that stuff. Get rid of it.

That’s the thing about following Jesus. No-one bats an eyelid if you say, “I used to lie, cheat and steal. I used to say really hurtful things to people. I used to throw bricks through people’s windows if I didn’t like them. But now I am a Christian and I consider all of that rubbish compared to the greatness of knowing Christ.” No-one is going to object to that. That’s what religion is for.

But if you say, “I used to work hard at my job. I made good money. I was a valuable and productive member of my community. But now I am a Christian and I consider all of that rubbish compared to the greatness of knowing Christ.”? Well, that’s the kind of thing that raises eyebrows. That’s the kind of thing that gets bricks thrown through your window.

Once again, we must consider what it really means to follow Jesus. It’s not just the boxes of old exam papers that are fire hazards now. You have to be prepared to consider it all, everything, rubbish compared to the greatness of knowing Christ. It doesn’t matter how shiny and impressive it is. It doesn’t matter that it took you years to collect. You don’t need that stuff. Get rid of it.

But who among us has the courage to do that?

James’s Blog: Fridge.

James’s Blog: Fridge.
I get frustrated with myself and my inability to ever create things that are as good as I want them to be. It’s embarrassing. I think about God, the first content provider, and wonder what He must make of it all. Read more

James’s Blog: Ironical Preaching.

James’s Blog:  Ironical Preaching.

I preached a sermon this week; the main thrust of which was the message that God does not demand perfection of us. Afterwards, I sat down, feeling flat and disappointed because I felt like the sermon hadn’t gone perfectly.

I must be growing, because it only took me a few moments to realise the irony of the situation. Read more

James’s Blog: The Second Vision of an Unwelcome Jesus.

James’s Blog:  The Second Vision of an Unwelcome Jesus.

One Saturday, many years ago, Ruth and I were travelling to London by train. We were sitting, waiting for the train to depart, when a couple and their young daughter got on. The man found a seat, but the woman stood by the open door, finishing her cigarette. The young girl, who must have been maybe five or six years old, began to speak Read more

James’s Blog: Bad Examples.

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: Outsmarted.

James’s Blog:  Outsmarted.

“Dad, I’ve just realised something,” said Imogen.

She’d been thinking, you see.  It was her mother that put her up to it.  Imogen had informed me that Ruth had told her that I wasn’t very good at making beds.  It’s a fair cop, guv.  But that earth-shattering revelation had caught her imagination.

“What have you realised?” I asked, as though I was interested.

“Mum’s good at the stuff that you’re bad at, and you’re good at the stuff she’s bad at.”

“Well,” I said, “that’s how marriage is supposed to work.”

I sensed an opportunity to turn the tables on my wife.

“Out of interest,” I went on, “what is it that mum’s bad at that I’m good at?”

Imogen thought for a second, but only for a second.

“Being the best dad in the world,” she said.

Smooth.  She managed to palm me off while protecting Ruth’s infallibility.  Not bad for a five-year old.  I felt quite proud of her, outsmarting her old man.

It makes me think of Abraham and Moses, the flawed saints, taking God to task for His behaviour.  The passages where they argue with God would be controversial and tricky enough if it weren’t for the fact that they also appear to win.  We can get ourselves into all sorts of theological tangles over those passages, at least until we realise that He – being God and all – doesn’t need to justify Himself to us, and we should just let Him get on with being God.  He’s good at it.

The point is, I believe that He must have felt a sense of fatherly pride as his children went toe-to-toe with Him because they believed in people.

Over the years it’s been normal for my three boys to team up to try and take me down, but I’ve always been stronger and more cunning.  However, as I watch them fill out and creep up, I know my days are numbered.  Indeed, I suspect that when I’m in my dotage, I’m going to spend a lot of time being tipped out of my wheelchair.

I also think of Jacob, wrestling God to a standstill and extracting a blessing for his troubles.  As Jacob limped away from the scene of the battle I like to think of God in heaven, nudging the angels.

“Did you see my boy go?  Did you see him?  What a fighter!”

Sometimes God tests us purely to give us a chance to make Him proud.  I think that’s a healthy way to view things – those test are not occasions to let God down, but rather occasions to bring a smile to His face.

James’s Blog: Naming & Shaming.

James’s Blog:  Naming & Shaming.

One of the many wise things that my counsellor, Derrick, said to me was, “You can humble yourself, or you can let God humble you. The first one is less painful.”

How do you humble yourself? Well, that’ll be between you and God, but it will require some decent soul-searching and some brutal honesty, I can tell you that. Read more

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