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

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.

James’s Blog: One Trick Pony.

James’s Blog:  One Trick Pony.

I think that, for many years now, I’ve really only had one message. I think about the lectures I’ve given, sermons I’ve preached and stories I’ve told in the recent past and – to me – they’re mostly variations on a single theme. My life consists of repeated attempts to find different ways of saying the same thing over and over again. It makes sense to me; I’m definitely more of a “Do one thing really well rather than lots of things badly” personality type. It’s also something I can imagine God saying to me: “James, I’m giving you one message to proclaim. Just the one, but it’s an important one. I don’t think you’re quite up to handling several things at once. Be as creative as you want in sharing that message, but try to stay on focus, OK?”

I’m sure that there are plenty of people who are expected to multitask, but it also seems totally consistent with God’s love of community that He would share the work out among His children rather than overload one or two and let the rest spend the day at the beach. Billy Graham is, I think, an example of someone who had just one job, and good things happened when he made that his priority. Pay careful attention to that desire to have a finger in every pie, because maybe it was never your pie in the first place. It’s just rude to stick fingers in pies that don’t belong to you.

So, what’s the one thing that God has given you to do or say? It certainly helps to know what it is, and you could do a lot worse than doubling down on it.

And the one message I’ve been repeating for the past decade or so? Well, I’m not going to just come right out and tell you what it is here, am I? Where’s the fun in that?

James’s Blog: Skimming the Sun.

James’s Blog:  Skimming the Sun.

I had a thought the other day.

There is really only one story – God’s story.

You and I create stories, but the only bits that will last are those that reflect the heart of God’s story. I don’t mean that only stories that talk explicitly about God are the only ones with any value, rather a tale’s worth depends on how much it reflects the story from which all other stories flow. Give me a yarn spun by an atheist with the scent of heaven in his nostrils rather than another two-dimensional moral diatribe written by someone with a fiery pen and a cold heart.

God’s story burns at the centre of the solar system, orbited by every other story ever created. There are stories that are popular and lauded, but are really nothing more than lifeless, icy rocks spinning out into the infinite void. Then there are others, small and ignored, that rotate so close to the sun that they burn with a lover’s passion and can’t be seen without looking at the source itself.

I hope that, whenever I write and whatever I write, I am in some way honouring the story that keeps me warm at night.

“Since all the world is but a story, it were well for thee to buy the more enduring story, rather than the story that is less enduring.”  – St. Columba

James’s Blog: The God of All Comfort.

James’s Blog:  The God of All Comfort.

“We must face the hard truth that no-one loves well who hasn’t suffered.”

Larry Crabb

 

“Praise be to the God and Father of the Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort,” writes Paul to the Corinthians, “who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.” It’s a bit of a mouthful, and Paul certainly wouldn’t get a good mark in any writing class (far too many ‘comforts’), but hopefully you get his point.

In case you don’t, it’s this: suffering isn’t all about you. One of the tricks that suffering plays on our mind is to make us even more self-focused; we struggle to see beyond our own painful situation. God, however, has His own tricks, and one of them is to turn suffering on its head by making it about how we can help others. Tell me, do you think the Enemy likes it when God disarms his great weapons so completely? Suffering equips you to love in a way that a life free from unpleasantness doesn’t.

“For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives,” Paul continues, “so also through Christ our comfort overflows.” If your goal is a life free from suffering then don’t bother with Jesus – he’ll just get in your way. If, however, your goal is a meaningful life then realise that suffering is not just part of the journey, but a key part of the process, and one you are not alone in. Don’t get distracted. Offer your experiences to those around you who are troubled. In this way suffering can be turned into comfort.

James’s Blog: Five More Random Thoughts on the Subject of Trusting God.

James’s Blog:  Five More Random Thoughts on the Subject of Trusting God.

I think that there are at least five different types of God to trust. Which one do you put your hope in?

1) The Enabler of Spoilt Children.

This God owes you. Everyone knows that when this God says things like, “But seek first the kingdom and my righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well,” what he’s really saying is, “What do want for Christmas?”. When life doesn’t go well, it is this God’s fault – after all, didn’t he say he’d look after you? Following this God is like being on a roller coaster, dipping and climbing between feelings of confident entitlement and angry disappointment.

2) The One Who Doesn’t Really Mean It.

This God, like everyone else in your life, will let you down. He makes promises all the time, but doesn’t deliver. The only thing you can be certain of is that he won’t come through for you. He’s like a lifeguard who encourages you to dive headfirst into the pool, with no intention of jumping in after you when you get out of your depth. Trusting this God turns you into a nervous swimmer, stuck on the side of the pool, unable to put even a toe into the water.

3) The Master of the Monkey’s Paw.

This God keeps his promises, but in an unexpected and unpleasant way, like one of those horror story genies who gives you exactly what you asked for. He is a trickster who needs to be outsmarted rather than trusted. You’ve accepted that your best bet for happiness is to try and manipulate the small print in order to get a positive outcome. Believing in this God leads to a crushed, submissive spirit that is constantly expecting to be punished ‘…for your own good.’

4) The Divine Bureaucrat.

This God also keeps his promises, but only to the letter of the law. You will get what you’re entitled to – nothing more, nothing less. He is always busy figuring out how little he can give away without being sued for breach of contract. Under this God, the Bible becomes a watertight legal contract. Trusting this God leads to low expectations, and a feeling that he needs to be backed into a corner before he’ll reluctantly dish out bread and water and expect you to be grateful for it.

5) The Real Deal.

This God can’t be contained by small words like ‘gracious’ and ‘generous’. To this God, the promises that are written in the Bible reveal his heart without defining the limit of it. He believes that it is possible to be kind without needing to announce it first, and that children can have birthday presents even though nothing has been submitted in writing beforehand. Following this God will get you into trouble, but the good kind of trouble, and eventually you’ll be able to face whatever life throws at you with a quiet confidence and hope.

James’s Blog: A King of Two Halves.

James’s Blog:  A King of Two Halves.

I’ve been doing some work for a sermon on Jesus as the Messiah, and it got me thinking. Israel had been waiting and watching for the Messiah for hundreds of years and when he finally appeared they missed him, because he wasn’t the sort of Messiah they were looking for. They had been expecting a great political and military leader to set the nation’s wrongs right – a new King David. What they got was a homeless preacher who was obsessed with healing the sick and lacked nationalistic zeal. What I realised yesterday was that the Old Testament makes it kind of obvious exactly how the Messiah would follow in David’s footsteps.

David’s kingship is a story of two halves. His rise to the throne is told in 1 Samuel, and is full of some very well known stories. David slays Goliath and flees from Saul, fearing for his life, and eventually forgiving the man who persecutes him. He faces many obstacles, but the theme that comes through is best spelt out in 1 Samuel 30:6 – ‘David was greatly distressed because the men were talking of stoning him…But David found strength in the LORD his God.”

By contrast, the story of David’s kingship in 2 Samuel and 1 Chronicles is very different. Although he achieves many important things, the stories that stand out from David’s reign are not like those that went before. Instead, we hear about his adultery with Bathsheba and murder of her husband; his trust shifting from God to his army; being told that he will not build the temple because he has too much blood on his hands; a brutal civil war because he was a bad father to Absalom. These are all things that happened after David reached the pinnacle of power. Yes, he was a great leader and a godly man, but the Old Testament isn’t shy about his failings. It’s almost as if those who compiled the stories want to say that David, the refugee shepherd of misfits, trumps David, the mighty warrior king, every time.

If the people of Israel had seen that, then they might have been able to make sense of Jesus. Of the two halves of the great king’s story, it makes perfect sense that the Messianic Son of David would base his life on the first. After all, Jesus himself said that it was the poor in spirit who would lay hold of the Kingdom of God, not the influential power brokers. I have to confess that I can’t understand those Christians who think that the best way to further God’s purposes is from the throne, from a position of strength and power. I wonder if they’ve even ever read their Bibles.

James’s Blog: Five Random Thoughts on the Subject of Trusting God.

James’s Blog:  Five Random Thoughts on the Subject of Trusting God.

1) Trusting God to be faithful is like trusting the sun to be hot. It seems like a sure thing in theory, and we’re very happy to say that we believe it to be true, but we’re also really hoping that we can get through life without having to prove it.

2) I suffer from Truster’s Remorse. It’s that feeling you get when you actively take steps to trust God, but then you worry that the warm glow on the horizon is not the welcoming hearth-fire of heaven, but rather just your bridges burning.

3) Sometimes I wish that I could pin God down before trust is required. It would be nice, for example, to have His signature at the bottom of an iron-clad contract before taking steps. However, I know for a fact that He prefers clay to paper. Plus I hear rumours that it’s possible for even lawyers to be saved.

4) When I reflect on those times that I’ve trusted God with something big – I mean really trusted and not just paid lip-service to the concept of trust – I’m forced to admit that He’s never let me down. Well, except for that one time in 2015 when I really wanted Him to do something specific and He did something else instead. He never seems to like my ideas.

5) C.S. Lewis was on to something when he wrote, “We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be.” I’m not really afraid of trusting God, rather I’m afraid that trusting God will mean having to follow Him down some dark paths. So it becomes a question not of trusting God to keep His promises, but rather trusting Him to not break me along the way. If God can be trusted in this way, then I have nothing to worry about. If I can’t trust Him with my life , then it’s time to find a new God, don’t you think?

James’s Blog: “Peace Be With You.”

James’s Blog:  “Peace Be With You.”

(Once again our church sent out some daily reflections over the Easter period.  Below is the short piece that I wrote for Easter Sunday.)

While they were still talking about this, Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.”

Luke 24:36

Sometimes I just don’t get Jesus. I mean, there the disciples are, having a conversation (and they were hidden away, so it was a private conversation), when all of a sudden Jesus appears and says, “Peace be with you.” I mean, I was always taught that it was rude to interrupt, but Jesus doesn’t seem to care. He intrudes and cuts them off in the middle of their discussion to offer them something that they hadn’t even asked for, like one of those annoying cold calls in the middle of dinner.

If Jesus really wanted to help, surely he would have gone out and about in Jerusalem and made sure that everyone saw him. Maybe he could have walked up to Herod’s palace, or Pilate’s residence, and knocked on the door with his nail-pieced hand and given them a telling-off. Then everyone would know that the disciples were right, and they wouldn’t have to hide any more, and everyone would want to listen to what they had to say.

Instead, he arrives when they are least expecting it, and gives them – of all things – peace. Peace is all right, I suppose, but what good is peace when everyone thinks you’re a heretic and wants you arrested? What good is peace when your whole world has been turned upside down, and you’re about to undertake the most incredible and demanding adventure you’ve ever known? And when Peter and the other disciples stood there, in the future years, awaiting their own violent deaths because they had followed Jesus, do you think that they stood there and said, “Thank goodness that at least I have peace.”?

I mean, is that the best thing that you can think of? The thing that you would want? For Jesus to intrude unexpectedly in the middle of your doubts and questions and struggles and say, “My peace I give to you. I do not give as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled.”? Is that really what the resurrection story is about? Is that really what we’re supposed to do with Easter during the rest of the year?

Yes. Yes, it is. “In this world you will have trouble,” said Jesus, “but take heart, for I have overcome the world.” Because of Easter, Jesus is able to interrupt any struggle, any difficulty, any challenge and bring peace. You might prefer him to take away your problems, but he never promised that. Instead, he brings something better. Peace in the midst of problems. We need Jesus to intrude and offer us this peace, because there’s nowhere else that it can be found.

James’s Blog: Upside Down Food.

James’s Blog:  Upside Down Food.

Today we remember the Passover that Jesus shared with his friends before his death; that moment when Jesus took physical, created things and imbued them with a clearly defined spiritual significance. Whatever you call it, Communion, the Eucharist, the Lord’s Supper, it has its roots in the bread and wine of this final meal.

Across the world and across history, the Church has regularly remembered this moment, born in the anguish of the Last Supper. It’s ironic that while we devote so much of our efforts to fleeing from suffering, we repeatedly return to this bittersweet moment because we know that it is here that God places something special into His creation.

When I did my Master’s degree, I wrote my dissertation on suffering, because I thought that if I was going to have to write a dissertation, it should be on a topic that was going to be useful for pastoral ministry. Suffering seemed like a pretty obvious subject to look at. One of the things that I’ve learnt is that, like Communion, suffering only makes sense through the eyes of faith. Without faith, the bread and wine is just food and drink. Without faith, the cross is just a scene of injustice. Without faith, suffering is pointless. With faith, however, the bread and wine become heralds of a perfect future. With faith, the cross becomes the ultimate victory. With faith, suffering becomes a place where God meets us and does His work.

This is Easter! It’s the moment when God took the worst that the Enemy could throw at Him and turned it on its head. It’s the moment when suffering becomes the vehicle of salvation. And Easter is every moment in your life when you look at suffering through the eyes of faith.

James’s Blog: The Music of Easter.

James’s Blog:  The Music of Easter.

We had nice weather last Friday. It was somewhat glorious, to be able to collect the children from school without needing to wear a coat. Spring is at hand, despite the best efforts of the weather system known as The Beast from the East, who has been trying to prolong winter. Winter, I think, is always trying to hold back spring. It won’t work though. You can’t stop the changing seasons.

Easter is also at hand. If you listen, you can already hear the Palm Sunday crowd, its praises echoing forward through time. The Pharisees tried to stop it, their own little Beast from the East tantrum, but that didn’t work either. It’s no wonder that we can hear it all, two thousand years later. Jesus himself said that if the crowd didn’t get it out of their system then the stones themselves would have to take up the song; it’s just that powerful.

Later that week, there was more music, though it was more muted. After their last meal together, Jesus and his friends sing a song before heading towards the garden. A glimpse of spring on the darkest night of the year. Winter tries its luck again: “The one I kiss, he’s the one that you want.”

And it seems to work. The friends scatter. Jesus is tried by a kangaroo court and nailed up to die.

But you can’t hold back the changing seasons, and you can’t hold back the magic of Easter song. Even in the darkness of Gethsemene night; the darkness of that Friday eclipse; the darkness of the tomb, we know what’s coming.

The ice is thawing, the green shoots are peaking through. For us, spring will turn into summer and summer into autumn and autumn back into winter, but as far as Easter is concerned, winter is behind us and always will be.

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