Bible Basher

This morning, as I came to my personal devotional time with God, I placed my bible open on the arm of the sofa, next to where I was sitting. The time being what it was, and the weather being clear, there was a beam of sunlight that passed through my patio windows and picked out the white of the pages of my bible and reflected back off them, causing a glare which later required some squinting. But glare or no, it was quite a profound image, the open bible radiating with light. I had to capture it and take a photo, and having taken it, though it did not do justice to the image,  I broke with my 'rule' that social media not take precedence in my quiet time. Posting, I used as a caption a bible verse, jut a few pages on from where it lay open.

      "Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path" ~Psalm 119:105

Although I had read a few Facebook posts before the quiet time I hadn't really absorbed the significance of what had happened in Washington D.C, nor had I linked how my post may potentially be misconstrued as a result. That was the reason for this blog. A sort of clarification.


What happened in Washington was that President Trump, amidst the protesters voicing their unhappiness at the recent killing of George Floyd, by a Michigan Police Officer,  left the Whitehouse, having his path forcibly cleared (reportedly with use of such tactics as rubber bullets and tear gas) and turned up on the steps at the front of St Johns Church (known sometimes as the church of the presidents) where he posed holding aloft a black leather-bound bible.

I don't really want this to be political. I consider myself non partisan in my own political leanings. I am not, having only read articles from links on social media, really in a position to comment on American politics with any authority. I've not done due dilligence or research. I don't fully understand the context.

But from what I do understand of Trump, there is a relationship with religion that is complex at best.

In the lead up to the 2016 election that saw him inaugurated as POTUS, I watched as evangelical commentators I followed, due to my own theological interests, almost entirely began to drop their opposition to him as a thoroughly unsuitable and ungodly candidate, to a grudging endorsement when he secured the Republican nomination, to, in a disturbingly large number of cases, God's chosen leader.

It's no secret that the republicans have frequently courted the religious right but few ever went as far as Trump. His stance on abortion in particular (perhaps the price for the churches endorsement of him) went further than any president before him since Roe v wade had been prepared to go. 

While the more level headed aforementioned commentators are prepared to look on him as someone God has allowed as the lesser of two evils, others seem almost to have hailed him as the chosen one. And the Evangelicals have been given a great deal of access to him, and he in turn has often played up to it.

What is the state of his heart before God? Is he regenerate? Is he like Amon Goth in Schindler's list when he is told that true power is Mercy, the ability to pardon? Playing the part he thinks others see him as?

I can't say, but I have become increasingly worried about his affiliation with Christianity, and more so by far, by the willingness of the Evangelical right to give him a 'blank cheque' whilst he makes the right noises from time to time.

The Bible which he holds aloft is the word by which he will be judged. Scripture teaches that we will have to give God account for every careless word and every action we have taken, and from those to whom more has been given, more will be required. As a leader he will be judged not only for his own actions but for those of the ones he leads.  This is why scripture instructs us to pray for our leaders. These presidential shoes are not ones I would crave to wear.

I worry for him. I worry that he is like Rishda Tarkarn in C.S. Lewis' Last Battle', who does all his evil in the name of Tash, a God he doesn't believe in and is later faced with that God.

Years ago a particularly brattish and badly behaved pop star caught my attention when he had a tattoo of the verse Ps 119:105 'Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path'. He had it on his shoulder and I remember remarking that perhaps he should have got it somewhere he could read it, rather than on his back. That Pop star was Justin Bieber. In a recent interview with Zane Lowe, he said, speaking of his rediscovery of his faith, 'I always believed in Jesus, but I didn't really understand obedience'. (paraphrase) He went on to articulate how obedience to the words in the bible had been key to his recent transformation. I think Trump needs an experience like Bieber.

Many people, preachers as well as presidents, have used the bible as a symbol to hide behind. Even proponents of racial segregation have used the bible! However they clearly weren't reading what we call 'The whole counsel of God' and they certainly weren't interpreting it through the same Holy Spirit that caused the apostle Paul, a Jew, to write;

 "There is neither Jew nor gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female for you are all one in Christ Jesus" (Galatians 3:28)

If such people had read and understood the scriptures they would have realised that Jesus mission was to destroy the dividing walls of hostility, reconciling us all to God, through the cross. For through him, we are told, we both (all) have access to the Father by one Spirit.

And in the same way, if we live by the sword then we die by the sword. And the word of god is living and active, sharper than a double edged sword, able to divide between soul and spirit, joints and marrow, and discerns the thoughts and intentions of the heart (Heb 4:3). 

It gives light to our path, if we will walk in it, but it will also be the standard used to measure us, and without the grace of God shown to us in Christ, we will all fall short. 

That thing Donald Trump holds above his head, could be the thing that falls on him and crushes him. I hope he has some true regard for it.

Voyage of The Born Trader

The Voyage of the Born Trader

When I first heard of the sad news of the sudden death of my former pastor, Bernard Thompson, just a month ago today, my mind was drawn to C S Lewis' fictional character Reepicheep.

One of the reasons it occurred to me, I think, is because he had been on a voyage, a cruise, at the time of his death. Reepicheep too left his friends story on his final voyage; The voyage of the Dawn Treader.I am not now sat next to a copy of that book, so I am left with only my sketchy memories of the story, but if any of you have read the Narnia Chronicles you may well remember The talking Narnian mouse Reepicheep, for his indomitable spirit and courageous valiant attitude. One of the reasons he was on the Voyage in the first place was because of his love of adventure.

I met Bernard when I was just 12 years old. He came to our fellowship to take on the pastorate after a devastating scandalous revelation about the previous leader had decimated us. We went almost overnight from a congregation creeping towards 200 down to just 28. This was the situation when Bernard arrived leaving his successful and thriving church in Bridgnorth, Shropshire to take on a new adventure, because he sensed God was calling him to do so.

Today we said our goodbyes to Bernard and many words have been better said, by people who knew him better. I can't really attempt to do him justice with some huge appraisal of his character or the impact he had on us all. But I have my own memories.

My relationship with Bernard was a little fraught for a period, He started his pastorate with us at the commencement of my adolescence, and henceforth my most rebellious phase, which did not help matters. He even kicked me out of church at the age of 16 for my disruptive behaviour.

But on my return 2 years later, after Jesus drew me back to faith and to fellowship after a turbulent, substance fuelled prodigal period, no-one made me more welcome than Bernard. Although my sensitivity coupled with his penchant for blunt truth-speaking (as he saw it) was sometimes a heady cocktail (Not that I imagine it troubled him much) our mutual fondness grew over the years and we both mellowed a lot, which did not hurt. He officiated at my wedding, and later my mothers funeral, and then a few years on, again at my fathers wedding. He gave his support to every venture I undertook for God, he gave me my first preaching engagement, (and a fair few subsequent ones) he sent me to the same Bible College that he himself had attended, and far more significantly, he never turned me away. He always made time for me. He always made a point of encouraging me.

But as I say, many knew him better and have said it better, but this enduring quality I saw in him was what drew me to compare him to Reepicheep; Bernard was passionate about loving God and not settling for less than what God had for him. He was ever looking forward, to the next thing the Lord had for him, to the hope to come, both in this world and in the coming Kingdom. Whenever I asked him how he was doing, he always said, almost without fail 'I'm in my prime, me!' His positivity was seemingly unbounding in this regard and he was heartily and whole heartedly convinced that the key to everything was being in the presence of God. He was a passionate pursuer of the presence of God.

 

Bernard was something of a natural when it came to bartering and getting a good deal. He collected coins and made shrewd investments and always knew a good bargain when he saw it and knew the value of a thing. One of his favourite characters (if not his actual favourite) was Jacob, who obtained the blessing and the birth right for the bargain price of a bowl of soup. I think that translated from the natural to the spiritual. Jesus tells us a few parables on this theme, the pearl of great price being one. The man, having seen the pearl, went out and sold all he had, we are told, so he could buy it. That pearl may represent the presence of God and I would be convinced that Bernard would have thought that, the price as high as it was, an absolute bargain.

Reepicheep, when the ship and it's crew decided to turn back on the return leg of the Journey, decided that he would continue his voyage, in search of Aslan's country. Earlier in the story he made his intentions clear;

“My own plans are made. While I can I sail east in the Dawn Treader. When she fails me, I paddle east in my coracle. When she sinks, I shall swim east with my four paws. And when I can swim no more, If I have not reached Aslan's country...I shall sink with my nose to the Sunrise”

The last time we see Reepicheep in this story, he is courageously paddling east in his coracle, having left the Ship to return on it's own.

I saw something of that absolute commitment and determination in Bernard and his commitment to the pursuit of God, at all costs. And like Reepicheep, on his final voyage, in one sense, he did not return. In fact his whole life was a voyage and, In my eyes, he kept going, not into Aslan's country but into the precious presence he so persistently sought, this time to stay.

I am so grateful to the Lord to have known this man, and to have had the inspiration of witnessing this burning desire for God for the last 34 years, and to have been warmed by it, and to have caught some of its sparks with which to kindle my own passion.

You have fought the good fight, You have finished the race, you have kept the faith. Now there is in store for you the crown of righteousness which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award you on that day- and not only to you, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.(2 Tim 4:7-8)

Thank you Lord Jesus for your servant Bernard and for your grace to him and your grace to us in knowing him.

All glory and honour to you,

Amen

.

The Appearing (1 John 1:2)

The life appeared; we have seen it and testify to it, and we proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and has appeared to us.  We proclaim to you what we have seen and heard, so that you also may have fellowship with us. And our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ. We write this to make our joy complete.

 ~1 John 1:2-4~

 

 

 

The life was hidden. Not hiding, but hidden. Hidden through all of humanity's sin and drifting. Hidden thorough our spiritual blindness. Hidden by our stubbornness and pride. Hidden by the obstacles and objects of religion. But the invisible became visible. Jesus became the visual representation, the Father's exact likeness, the seen manifestation of the unseen God. He had always been present, even before everything, and he allowed himself to be hidden until exactly the right time and then he stepped out of heaven onto the stage of the world and into the pages of scriptures and further still written on the hearts of those who have encountered him. Not least of those was John and his friends, who spent 3 miraculous years in his company, eating, breathing and sleeping Jesus. The life appeared, and it was seen and those who saw testified to it.

Everything that follows in this epistle is an extension of that testimony. This they proclaim concerning the word of life and the purpose of this proclamation? That we may have fellowship with them and their fellowship is with the Father and the Son. And for us to share in this fellowship will make their joy complete! This is the nature of those that have been touched by the word of life, that they want to spread his word, and they want others to know him, for his glory and for our salvation. Nothing makes a believer happier than God's glory and sinners being saved.

It was the purpose for which Jesus came.

And this is how the pattern is to be followed.

1. He appears to us.
2. He appears in us.


Lord, by your mercy and to the glory of Jesus
Open my eyes (to see your glory) and then open my mouth (to speak of it).

Amen.

Prodigal Hearts

When I asked God this morning, in accordance with Pete Grieg's request on my daily prayer app, for a verse or a story to take with me into 2020, the impression I immediately got was of the parable of the prodigal son. I've not had time to reflect much on it yet, but I wanted to get a few thoughts down as soon as I could, if nothing other than to serve as a reminder or pointer to this story. Something that has been highlighted for me quite a bit recently is just how deep my feelings of abandonment and rejection go. I have carried, and have a propensity for carrying, what John Eldridge would call 'an orphan spirit'.

The story of 'The Prodigal' (although it is actually a story of three characters) contains two approaches to sonship. Before God gave me the story of the prodigal, in my end of year reflections, as disciplines he brought to mind feasting and fasting. Of course within the discipline of feasting is the notion of celebration, which is where the two are tied together and how God bought confirmation to me. I had thought briefly about the need to celebrate more, and then the thought of the celebration at the prodigals return came to me, which took me immediately to the older brother. Just moments before I had been being resentful (If I'm honest) about how under appreciated I have felt in certain aspects of my Christian service. The tragedy of the older brother is that he holds an orphaned spirit although he is in the closest proximity to the father. He is, as the song has it, 'standing knee deep in a river and dying of thirst'.

I fear, at my worst I am the older brother.

And how much better to be the prodigal?

The prodigal is all feasting whilst the older brother is all fasting.

There is much merit in the duty of the older brother, but never without Joy. There is no pleasure in that, for us or for our father.

You are always with me, he tells the older brother, and everything I have is yours. How can we live in that and have no joy?

The challenge, dear son, should you chose to accept it, is to live in the light of that. To celebrate his presence and abundance in all things. To learn to fast and to feast as a loved son.

Yes please.

Thank you Father.

The beginning (1 John 1:1)

That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched—this we proclaim concerning the Word of life.

 

I want you to notice that the one who writes this is a man intimately acquainted with your saviour.

Matthew, when you read this, these very words, you are only one step removed from Jesus himself. This man touched Jesus, reclined against him, spoke to him, laughed with him. he gazed in awe as his master healed blind men and lepers. When Jesus cooked on the beach after the resurrection, this man smelt and tasted the fish. He is the man to whom your Lord entrusted the care of his very own mother. This man is someone who was not only in 'The twelve' but was in 'The three' and describes himself as 'The one Jesus loved'. Only one step removed from Jesus himself! How amazing is that? This man is someone you want to listen to, Matthew.

 

And look how convinced John is! This man he hung out with must have been something special. I know you know that, but stop looking through your Christian-eyes, Matthew. Think what that would have been like for a devout Jew like John. What would it take to convince him that this flesh and blood, meat and two veg human that he spent these years with, was the eternal word, pre-existent before creation, giving life to all? When did he realise? Was it only once he had risen from the dead? Think about that. How phenomenal would that have been. The realisation that not only was this a Holy prophet, but that he was God the son, the incarnate one. And he, John, had lived with him for three years, and seen some mind-blowing stuff.

 

This Jesus was from the beginning. As John states in his gospel, he was with God and he was God. Woah. That gives you chills.

I think Matthew you are going to have to listen to what this man has got to say.  Don't skip through it like you usually do. Don't just use it to get affirmation on social media. Linger with this a while. Spend some time in the company of the words of the man who was the disciple Jesus loved. Put your ear to his lips, because those lips proclaim the words his own ears heard from Jesus' lips. And you love him, Matthew. He is the one you love and his words are life.

 

Now settle in. What does John proclaim concerning him?

 

In Quietness and Confidence (a Eulogy)

This morning at 04:00 a man called Ted Ripley passed from death into life.

Ted, I believe, was 90 years old and he'd been ill for the last few weeks with a lung disease.

I shouldn't be shocked. He was of what we often call 'a ripe old age', and although we were warned during the weekend, that he would probably not make it much further, ( I was at least a little mentally prepared) it has come as a real surprise at what an emotional impact it has had, and it came up on me sideways.

Imagine you live next to a mountain and when you moved to that area it was a thing of great spectacle. You would often just sit in your garden and look up at what the hymnist refers to as 'lofty grandeur'. You would just drink in the majesty and the beauty of how it off set every weather type, the sun picking out its peaks in the morning, whilst your garden is still in darkness. The way clouds would roll over it, the seasonal change in its greenery, from green to yellow to brown and then almost grey, and the snow capped peaks in some winter weeks, and the way the sun would set behind it every night and etch its silhouette onto your retina by giving it a golden halo.

But human nature being such that although you would always appreciate its beauty and majesty after a decade or so it wouldn't quite take your breath away like it used to. Your appreciation if anything is enhanced but the impact is lost. It is just there. It is always there. You will be long gone into your retirement home and it will be just the same, and it will continue to be the same after you have slept the final sleep.

Now imagine you come out one morning and that mountain is gone.

That is how I feel about Ted. He was always there. He looked the same. He never changed. He wasn't ill. He showed up and he kept showing up. And I never imagined my life without him in it. When I lived in Brighton I felt the same about the sea. When I moved I went to visit it every week. After 5 years that had changed. It was for the most part, enough to know it was there and smile when I occasionally passed it. It orientated me. I knew where it was and where everything was in relation to it.

Now if Ted was a mountain, perhaps he wasn't a particularly spectacular one at fist glance. He was not given to flashness, he didn't dominate conversations or dazzle you with his humour and he didn't suck up the limelight. Ted was dependable, faithful and yes, understated. But don't think for a second this undermines his mountain status. Mountains are built on something. It is their substance rather than their outline that make them count. And so often the best treasures are within the mountain, waiting to be mined.

Anyone who knew Ted will know of his phenomenal commitment to prayer. Ted was faithful. Ted had time for everyone. He was patient and considered, and had a lot of wisdom. He will be deeply missed.

The fellowship I grew up in (and returned to) started at the same time I did. My dad tells me that one of the formative moments in recognising that they were effectively a church (after having left the Baptist church) was during a gathering for prayer at the time of my traumatic birth. I don't know if Ted was at that meeting but as a founder member of our church I think it is very likely that he would have been. About 99% I'd say, like it was about a 99% chance of him being at any church prayer meeting you might deem to turn up to. (Some poetic licence here).

He was there at the beginning and, now I am here at the end of his earthly life, I want to say his faithful, gentle, unobtrusive mountainous presence was something , like the man himself, I never expected to not be there. And we all who knew him are bereft at its absence.

And I have a theory. We honour great speakers and charismatic leaders. We honour bombastic people and successful people, but God honours the faithful. He will not say "Well done good and successful servant". It is the prayer sayers and the tea makers, and the chair stackers that will receive his reward. I know faithfulness has its more glamorous sides but it is the humble who God exalts, not the proud.

1 john 3:2 says 'What we will be has not yet been made known' (But when Jesus appears we shall be like him). and we are told in Romans 8:19 that creation itself  'waits eagerly for the children of God to be revealed'.

 I think when Teds true nature is revealed it will be a thing to behold. That those less showy characteristics of his (which still spoke volumes in their own way) will be shown to have a spiritual glory that is beautiful and breath-taking in the extreme. And all the glory for it will go to God, and that will please Ted no end.

I honestly think there will be platform speakers who would be waiting in line for an audience with Ted. Those who do their deeds to be honoured by others will have already received their reward in that end, but those who seek to honour God have a reward to come which must surpass all the praise of men.

I suppose in the end I am guilty of treating Ted a little like I treated the sea whilst living in Brighton. He was like the Mountain whose presence we come to take for granted, but what I am trying to say is that God sees everything and he sees it as it is. Within our faith community Ted was still held in honour and the sadness and grief at his parting will speak volumes in the coming weeks, I am certain. But the true depth of what made him so sturdy, I believe, are only seen by God and will be truly honoured by him and I believe in our earthly state we would be surprised to see it's depths and heights. Don't get me wrong, Ted was just a down to earth 'normal' guy. But that's just the point.

Ted we are grateful to have walked with you. We salute you. We stand on your shoulders.
Thank you for all your faithfulness. Thank you for all your prayers. Thank you for your example.
You once directed me to a book called 'Finishing Strong', saying it had spoken deeply to you. I think you finished strong. And you will go on from strength to strength.

Until we meet in glory.


 "In returning and rest shall ye be saved; in quietness and in confidence shall be your strength"

And The Gate Is Narrow

Some of my readers may be aware that the title of my blog ' Truth Is An Arrow' (that I have written under until now) was taken from the Bob Dylan Song "When He Returns". In the song he sings the line 'truth is an arrow and the gate is narrow, that it passes through'. It resonated with me enough to choose the first half of the line as the erstwhile title of my blog since it's conception. Truth being about uncompromising precision hitting a hard target. It just so happened that I was listening to my copy of 'Slow Train Coming' at the time of setting up my blog page.

I believe the width of the gate in the closing track of that album is an allusion to Jesus' words which can be found in Matthew's gospel (7:13-14) and again in Luke 13:24, where Jesus urges us to take, or to enter through the narrow gate.

"Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction and many enter though it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it."

I'd love to write about these verses and tell you about some amazing insights I've had and blow you all away(hopefully) with my profundity, but I can't.

It's pretty basic really. I have no amazing insights.

Instead I stand at the narrow gate that is a way onto the narrow road, the difficult road (as the NKJV has it), and I know it leads to life, but I can't even see the path properly from here, and I can only imagine what that life that it leads to might look like.

And this narrow gate is always the way back onto this road. It is the gate I started through at the age of 6, when I said a prayer at 'Uncle' Andrew's invitation at Dales bible week, and it is the gate I return to at the age of 46, and it is very familiar. It is a gate I have used so many times over the years and through the miles, after hopping the fence for that wide and easy road and having found that the destruction it leads me to might have started out sweet but is now sickly with a bitter aftertaste.

 It is the gate my parents called to me from, to come and join them on the narrow way, way before 'Uncle Andrew' invited me, and many times after. It was a gate marked out by my heavenly Father as my destiny before even the world was formed. And the difficult road, no matter how far it travels never leaves sight of the gate. It is the gate that will close behind me at the end of the age, the door on which some will bang and beg for an opening, but once shut it will be shut forever.

I am finding this fundamental to the pattern of discipleship to which I am called. You see, wherever a choice to return to the road is hard, wherever it is the narrow gate and not the broad road, there is an opportunity for renewal and transformation. These opportunities, so often in the form of repentance (a word which has the image of an about face change of direction embedded in it's meaning), they prove to be a portal into the life God has for you. But from the outside the perception is that this choice is hard and difficult. Well maybe, but Jesus tells us, It leads to life.

The broad road is inviting, in contrast to the narrow gate which seems foreboding and uninviting. We know the price for entry into the narrow gate will be a hard slog. Jesus does nothing to sugar-coat it. it is the narrow way. The difficult path. In contrast the broad road has broad appeal, the appearance of ease, however: it leads to destruction.
Many walk that way.

Not so the narrow way.

It is the road less travelled.

Few find it.

Those that do find it, however, walk that way, and they are led to life. Dare I venture, life in abundance.

And we see elsewhere in Jesus teaching that what we consider to be a hard yoke, turns out to be an easy one, and what seems to be a heavy burden, turns out to be a light one.

That's because that gate we enter through is Jesus himself. (I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved.~ John 10:9)

 And he is the road too.

We are, especially us evangelicals, very, very familiar with John 14:6. It is one of a handful of verses I could quote to you by being told the reference. Second or third place to John 3:16.

“I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me."

~John 14:6

 

 

We love to quote it to demonstrate (and rightly so) the exclusivity of Jesus, but we often forget the context in to which it was spoken. If I had quoted the whole verse it would have said 'Jesus said to him,“I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me."'

And who is he, the 'him' that Jesus delivered one of his best remembered lines to?

That's right. Good old 'Doubting' Thomas, without whom we may not have had these words, asking questions, as a doubter is want to do, but asking them in all honesty and sincerity, and getting the most direct answers as a result.

“Lord, we do not know where You are going, and how can we know the way?” which he said in response to Jesus' assertion  "And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. ⁴ You know the way to the place where I am going.”

-How can we know the way?
-I AM the way.
There is so much more to unpack here but I don't wish to go there right now.

Jesus is the way in and the way itself.

It is here that I return, again and again and again. That is why, after a hard season of losing my way, I have found myself back at this gate, wanting back in on the life it leads to.
I'm stood at the gate, handing over my entangling sins, my desires, my pretensions and all that is hindering. I need to make room for that easy yoke.

A sinner stood at the gate of the grace I never really left, and realising, it is really this simple. Lay it down and take up your cross once more.

Nothing in my hand I bring.
Simply to thy cross I cling.

And one foot in front of the other , once more.