It all starts with being vulnerable...

Back when I was a teenager, I used to underline or highlight verses, and scribble notes in the margins of my Bible. The result of this practice was that I eventually filled up every available inch of white space and ended up having to buy a new Bible every four or five years. I still have two of those Bibles, covered with my notes and insights from around 1975 - 1982. The other disadvantage of my "marginalised note taking" (apart from the fact that I risked offending a Muslim or Jew by defacing the holy scriptures in this way) was that each time I read a passage, I was reminded of what God had revealed to me the previous time I had meditated on it. I realised that I was in danger of falling into the same thought patterns on every reading, instead of allowing God to reveal new and different things to me each time I read His Word. And so, in 1982, I began writing in the first of dozens of journals that have recorded my Bible reading over the last three decades.

The notes may no longer be in the margins of my Bible, but it still happens sometimes that I read a passage and am vividly reminded of a truth that stood out to me on a previous reading, or an insight that impacted my life in some way in the past. Reading in 1 Samuel chapter 18 this week, for example, I was reminded of a Bible study I'd done towards the end of 2007 on the subject of covenants. I had been looking at different kinds of covenants in the Bible - with God and with people - and had been struck by something in this account of how David and Jonathan make a covenant of friendship. We sometimes hear talk of  "covenant relationships" - referring to a church fellowship or to a ministry team, to a marriage or perhaps to a friendship between two people. But what does that really mean?

The thing that struck me in the story of Jonathan and David's friendship was the part in verse 4 where their covenant was sealed by a gift: Jonathan gave David his outer garment and armour (sword, bow, belt.) I found it deeply symbolic that Jonathan was demonstrating trust and making himself totally vulnerable. He was laying down his covering (nowhere to hide!) and his means of protecting himself. In a truly covenantal relationship, whether it's a marriage or a friendship, we are choosing vulnerability and putting ourselves completely at the mercy of our friend's or spouse's commitment to the covenant. Yes, it's a risk - but without vulnerability, there can be no deep sharing of lives. If one or both persons is hiding behind a mask, the friendship will never go beyond a superficial level. Yes, covenant vulnerability opens us up to the possibility of betrayal and heartache and pain…. but that too can be redeemed in God's scheme of things.

The alternative is to refuse and avoid vulnerability: playing safe by not revealing anything personal that could ever be used against us; protecting ourselves from possible harm or pain by keeping people slightly at arm's length, or at least not allowing them to get "too close." The outcome of this, however, is a different kind of loss and pain: a sense of isolation, and perhaps a nagging fear that people might not really love us if they truly knew what we were like. But when we do take the risk, when we do embrace the vulnerability that leads to covenant relationships, we'll discover the freedom of belonging, of being loved and accepted for who we are, with our weaknesses as well as our strengths. We'll discover that our marriages are stronger and our friendships are deeper and more rewarding. And maybe we'll also discover a new strength in our relationship with Jesus, the One who wants to be our very best Friend of all.

The best way to help...

The 23rd chapter of 1st Samuel is the story of a manhunt, as King Saul pursues David, ruthless in his attempts to find and kill him. But this morning, my attention was caught by a little verse right in the middle of the chapter. While David is in danger and in hiding, his closest friend goes to see him, and it says in 1 Samuel 23:16 that Jonathan helped him find strength in God. I like this little verse because it expresses something of my heart's desire when it comes to discipling and mentoring others.

It's so easy to make people dependent on us by becoming the source of their comfort, support and counsel when they're in a hard place. It can even be possible to "over-sympathise" with someone's pain and struggle, and end up reinforcing them in their self-pity, pessimism and passivity. Or perhaps we go to the other extreme and start to avoid the person because we feel embarrassed and awkward in the face of our own helplessness to do something about their ongoing anguish or pain. What Jonathan did is the very best way to help: he didn't simply put an arm around David's shoulder and cry with him (although there's nothing wrong with doing that.) He didn't jump in and try to solve the problem for him. He didn't start to criticise and gossip about the person who was causing all the trouble for David. Instead, he pointed him back to the Lord, helping David to find comfort, wisdom and strength in his own relationship with God.

Perhaps Jonathan did that by praying with his friend; perhaps he did it by reminding him of who God is. In vs 17 we see that he did it by reminding David of God's plans and purposes for him - the destiny that God had spoken over his life. All in all, Jonathan helped David to stay dependent on God. David didn't draw his strength from Jonathan or from their friendship; he was helped to find his strength in God. This is the best thing we can do for our friends, the best way to truly help them for life and not just for now.

Some years later, when facing devastating losses at the hands of the Amalekites (even though we read that David wept until he had no tears left and no strength left to cry - 1 Sam 30: 4), we also read that David knew how to strengthen himself in the Lord his God. (1 Sam 30: 6) Perhaps part of the reason he was able to do this was because he had had a good friend who helped him always to find his strength in God.

Bad roots, bad fruits...

In yesterday's post, I mentioned the episode where David visited the town of Nob and lied to the priest in order to get help in the form of food and a weapon. Now, in the second half of 1 Samuel 22, we see the tragic fruit of his deception. Saul accuses Ahimelech and the other priests of being part of a conspiracy against the king. The final outcome is that 85 priests, plus the whole population of Nob, pay with their lives and die by the sword. Only one guy escapes, Abiathar, and when he tells David the news, a distraught David exclaims, "Now I have caused the death of your whole family." Too late, he is realising the bad fruit that has come from the lies he told to the priest.

Sin will never bear good fruit; sooner or later, the results will always be negative - either for ourselves, for others, or both. What can sometimes happen, though, is that the initial results of our sin might appear to be positive, and this makes it easy for us to fool ourselves into thinking that what we did was okay. It seemed that David's lies made possible his escape and also provided food for him. But the end result was that hundreds of people lost their lives.

A similar thing happened in the life of Abraham. (See Genesis chapter 16.) When God's promise of a son and a multitude of descendants seemed slow in coming to pass, Abraham decided to take matters into his own hands and "help God out" a little. He did what was very common in his country and culture at the time: he slept with his wife's servant and had a son by her instead. It sounds shocking to us nowadays, but it wasn't so shocking back then. It was simply  "what everyone did" in those circumstances. And, sure enough, the initial outcome of Abraham's actions seemed positive: now, at last, he had a son, and was finally on his way to being a "father of many nations," as God had promised.

But it wasn't long before things began to fall apart: first there was conflict between Sarah and Hagar; later Abraham discovered that God was not going to be manipulated into blessing the outcome of his "helping hand" and still planned to give Sarah a miracle baby instead. Once that happened, there began to be conflict between the two boys, Isaac and Ishmael…. and, thousands of years later, we only need to look at the Middle East situation to see the ongoing outcome of Abraham's decision to do things his way instead of God's.

Yes, the early results of our wilfulness might make it look as if we're reaping good fruit from our choices….. but time will bring the test, and we'll discover that bad roots always bring bad fruit. It is so much better always to do things God's way in the first place.

It's all about saving lives...

I've always been a little puzzled by that story in the first few verses of 1 Samuel 21 - the part where David is running for his life, pursued by a rival who wants to kill him, and he apparently tells a "pack of lies" to a priest in order to get food and a weapon.

It's not so much the story itself that surprises me, but rather the way that Jesus refers to this incident in the first eight verses of Matthew chapter 12. Rather than condemning David for this subterfuge, Jesus seems to mention it as something okay when He is talking to the Pharisees about how His own disciples had picked and eaten a few heads of grain on the Sabbath day. Jesus wasn't saying that a need justifies a crime: He wasn't saying that it's okay to lie and steal if you're hungry.  What He wanted the Pharisees to understand was that God gave the Law, including the law about the Sabbath for man's good, and not to make things harder for people. Jesus was speaking against legalism. (Jesus wasn't excusing David's lying; he was only excusing the fact that he ate some consecrated bread.)

He could have simply said, "Look, guys, the Law says not to work on the Sabbath. Picking and eating a few grains of wheat isn't exactly work!" Instead, Jesus broadened the principle by mentioning what happened with David. Probably the law about consecrated bread was given so that the priests had food to eat, and other opportunists didn't just go in and help themselves. But if a priest chose to give some of his bread to a person in need, that wasn't a problem - as long as the person wasn't "unclean" according to their religious guidelines. Jesus was saying that God gave us laws and commandments for our own benefit, and not to cause us hardship. It's easy for people to lose sight of that nowadays. I can remember, about ten years ago, observing a discussion among some trainee youth workers, with some of the team members objecting that "The Ten Commandments" weren't appropriate teaching material for a youth camp because the commandments were "too oppressive" for today's young people and it wasn't right to focus on "the law." The group made a decision to work with different topics instead, but I remember feeling sad that these young staff, leaders of the next generation, were unable to see the ten commandments as a reflection of God's loving care for us. They felt fine about seeing God as our Saviour and Friend, but they were rejecting the concept of God as a Lawgiver and Judge.

Maybe their response was a reaction against the opposite trend - the legalism that has been so prevalent in some church traditions. That's what the Pharisees were doing: instead of seeing God's Law as an expression of His concern for our wellbeing, they were burdening people with more and more "extra" little laws to keep them in line. Likewise, generations of Christians throughout the ages haven't always realised that God's law and God's love for us are inextricably linked.

Many who watched the award winning movie, "Chariots of Fire," admired Olympic runner Eric Liddle for taking a stand and refusing to compete on a Sunday. Too few people are willing to stand up for what they believe in nowadays. But what about that little scene near the beginning of the film, where parents reprimanded little boys for having fun and kicking a football around after church? Was that really what God had in mind when He told us to work only six days out of seven? Nowadays it wouldn't be shocking for believers to relax on their free day by taking a long hike in the mountains and enjoying God's creation. But the Pharisees had legislated exactly how many kilometres you were allowed to walk before it constituted "work."  If they'd been around today, perhaps it would be illegal to walk the dog on the Sabbath. Their legalism was becoming ridiculous; that's why Jesus pointed out that you wouldn't leave your animal to die in a pit on the Sabbath, just because it would be hard work to pull it out. That's why emergency surgeons and lifeboat rescue services don't shut down shop on a Sunday. They're there to save lives - just like Jesus Himself sometimes healed people on the Sabbath.

But this doesn't mean that we can simply discard the sabbath principle in the twenty first century. The Sabbath is still for saving lives: it saves them by reminding us to get enough rest and not work ourselves to death. Yes, the sabbath principle is perhaps more important than ever in our fast paced world. (And yet, it seems that the idea of sabbath is a controversial one for some people today; I got several comments and emails after writing my blog posting about sabbath rest last autumn. Click here to read that post.) 

In fact, all of the ten commandments are still important for us today - despite the fact that the masses believe, "Do not commit adultery" is outdated, or that "Do not kill," doesn't refer to the unborn child in the womb. Something will be deeply changed in our attitude  towards God's laws and instructions when we truly have revelation that they are all for our own good; it's all about saving our lives!

What matters most...

Back in summer 2002, we took one of our South African King's Kids teams for an outreach in the city of Johannesburg. The theme of our training camp was, "Get Real," and the discipleship teachings each day had titles like: Get ready…  get connected… get going… and a few other "gets."
Our simple T-shirt logo had a scripture reference on it: 1st Samuel chapter 16 verse 7. No doubt you've heard it quoted: "Man looks at the outward appearance, but God looks at the heart."

The context of this statement is the story where the prophet Samuel is sent to anoint a new king to replace King Saul, a man who feared the people more than he feared the Lord. All that Samuel knows when he sets out is that the new king is one of the sons of a man called Jesse. Jesse lived in the town of Bethlehem and he actually had eight sons. So Samuel had to go there and find out which of the sons was to be the new king.

Now, several of Jesse's sons were rather impressive looking: tall, handsome, strong and muscular…. just the sort of guys you could imagine as a future king. So you can imagine Samuel's consternation when seven sons passed before him, one after the other, and God kept saying, "No, this isn't the one." That's the context of those words that were spoken directly by God Himself: Don't judge by his appearance or his height… People judge by outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart. (1 Samuel 16: 7)

Now, here's where the story gets interesting. Jesse had only brought seven of his sons to meet the prophet. And so when God kept saying, "No, he's not the one," Samuel had to say to Jesse, "It's none of these guys. Don't you have any more sons?" And the truth was that Jesse did have another son, but he was just a kid, and he was out in the fields, looking after the sheep. Jesse and his family had all made the assumption that, "It couldn't be David; he's just too young," and so they hadn't even brought him in from the fields to meet the prophet.

And, of course, we know the end of the story. David was the chosen one, - the one who, fifteen or twenty years later, became the second king of Israel. But he didn't look like a king at this point; he just looked like a kid. The Bible doesn't tell us exactly how old he was, but the Hebrew word used is na'ar. This word, which means "youth shaking free," was used to describe a pre-teen boy who was not yet old enough to go to battle. Na'ar could describe a boy as young as three or four… or as old as eleven or twelve. But probably not any older than twelve. Once a boy was thirteen or fourteen, and old enough to go to battle, the Hebrew word used to describe him was bach'ur, which means "ripened warrior."

When we read the story in the next chapter, of how David went out to face the giant Goliath (see below), we often imagine a teenage boy of seventeen or eighteen. But the Hebrew word in chapter seventeen is also na'ar. Probably David was only eleven or twelve years old; that's why he hadn't gone to the battle as a soldier, and so his father was able to send him with some food for his brothers. This also explains why the kid was unable to walk when Saul gave him his heavy armour to wear. (1 Samuel 17 vs 38 - 39) He wasn't big enough or strong enough, because he was just a pre-teen boy. And yet he was the one God had chosen to be the future king.

In telling us the story of Samuel's visit to Jesse and his sons, and especially in giving us those words in 1 Samuel 16: 7, I believe that God was drawing our attention to a very important principle for our lives. As human beings, we will always be tempted to look at the outward appearance. It's so easy for us to form an opinion of people based on what they look  like: whether they're tall or short, fat or thin, young or old, well dressed or poorly dressed. We tend to judge people by all sorts of external standards: like their accent and education, the kind of house they live in, the sort of job that they have; whether they're rich or poor, sporty or nerdy; whether they wear the latest designer clothes and have the latest model of smartphone; whether they're good looking or just seemingly "ordinary."  But God doesn't look at the things people look at. It might be, sometimes, that we need to remind ourselves to look beyond the externals and truly allow ourselves to see the heart and the character of the person.

In choosing the theme, "Get Real," for that Johannesburg camp, we were reminding the young people - 21st century young people who care so much about their "image" and about being "cool"  - that such externals are not really the most important thing in life. What really matters is who we are on the inside: whether we are people of integrity and courage, generosity and faithfulness, kindness and humility… These are the things that matter most in God's eyes, because He doesn't look at the external and temporary trappings of our lives; He looks deep within us to find the character qualities that honour Him and that will be with us for eternity.

You see, it's not as if David didn't have any of those external qualities. We read later that he did have many accomplishments: he was courageous, he spoke well, he was good looking and he was a very gifted musician. But what's even more important is a characteristic that someone speaks of him in ch 16 vs 18: the Lord is with him. Our talents and skills aren't unimportant: it was David's courage that equipped him to be a mighty warrior, and it was no doubt his musical gifting that equipped him to be a songwriter/psalmist and worship leader. His eloquence and good looks were no doubt part of what made him a popular king. But we know from God's words to Samuel that these were not God's primary reasons for choosing David to be king. What really mattered was the heart: the fact that he knew God and that God was with him.

And so, later on, when we read about David's kingship, we discover that his heart and his skills were both needed in order for him to do a good job as king. Psalm 78 vs 72 tells us that David led the people with integrity of heart (that's what comes first) and also with skilful hands. Yes, both are needed, but there's no doubt at all about which matters most to God. 

It's all a matter of perspective...

The Old Testament story about David and Goliath is very well known but, re-reading it last week, my attention was caught by a little detail that shows how important perspective is.

When the warrior, Goliath, came out to bully and taunt the armies of Israel, he referred to them as "servants of Saul." He says to them, "I am a Philistine and you are the servants of Saul. Choose a man to come out here and fight me." (1 Samuel 17: 8)  It's interesting that he didn't perceive them as servants of the living God; he saw them as servants of King Saul. It's an ironic confirmation of what Samuel had warned the people: that in demanding a king's leadership, the people were to some extent rejecting God's direct leadership over them. Just like the prophet warned them (back in 1st Samuel chapter eight), they have become "servants of Saul," a human leader.

But young David saw things differently. Although he respectfully calls himself Saul's servant (in verses 32 and 34), he actually approaches life from a completely different perspective. In his eyes, this disrespectful giant of a man is actually defying the army of the living God. (verses 26 and 36b.) And so when he goes out to face Goliath, this young boy utters those now legendary words: "You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the Lord Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you defied." (verse 45)

What's more, David is not fighting this warrior for his own fame or glory. His motivation is "so that the whole world will know that there is a God in Israel." (vs 46) Young as he is, he is perfectly clear in his own mind, and he wants everyone else to know, that battles aren't won primarily with swords and spears, but what really counts is whether the battle is the Lord's. (vs 47) This little boy understood back then when the prophet Zechariah wrote down for us, hundreds of years later, that it's not by strength, not by power, but by God's Spirit that true victories are won. (Zechariah 4: 6)

We all know the end of the story…. but how often do we forget the example of this brave and godly kid's perspective? How often do we try to sort out problems and challenges in our own strength? How often do we act like "servants of Saul" - looking to leaders or other people to solve our problems for us? What a difference it makes when our perspective is that this is God's battle, and we can cooperate with Him as servants of the living Lord.

How much do you really hate it?

In my previous post, I mentioned my attempts in my teenage years to come up with a good definition for explaining the Biblical concept of "the fear of the Lord." One definition that I have increasingly found helpful over the past couple of decades is found in Proverbs 8: 13, where it says: To fear the Lord means that we hate evil.  If we truly love and respect God, we will truly hate the sin and evil that break His heart. That definition sounds so simple, and yet it's so easy to get confused about what it looks like in practice.

I remember, back in Southern Africa, sharing an illustration to help the teenagers reflect on where they really stood in this matter. Imagine, I said, that I have a problem with being overweight. Tired of tight jeans and feeling out of breath when walking in hot weather, I go to the doctor and ask for his help to deal with my weight problem. After a few diagnostic questions, the doctor decides that some diet changes may be what's needed. Looking at his list of things that tend to cause weight gain in the culture, he advises me to be careful about how much I eat and, in particular to avoid the three baddies of butter, beer and ice cream.

And so I head home with my new plan of action to lose weight. Now I can tell you right from the start that doing without butter is not going to be a problem for me. I'm kind of allergic to butter and margarine (they make me feel nauseous) and so I'm not going to be the slightest bit tempted to eat it. Same thing with beer; despite living in nations where beer production and beer drinking are part of the culture, I have to confess that I just can't stand it. I can't even bear the smell of beer. And so I can move forward with confidence as far as butter and beer are concerned. I absolutely hate them and so I know that I'm not going to waste any time at all struggling with the temptation to consume them.

When it comes to ice cream, on the other hand….. I have to admit that I'm rather a fan of ice cream. It may even deserve a place on my list of "favourite foods." I have delicious memories of particularly good ice cream shops where I lived in Vienna, in Cape Town, and now here in Malaga. I may agree with the doctor's advice that I need to give it up….. but in all honesty, I cannot say that I hate ice cream. Saying that I love ice cream is probably closer to the truth. And so, if the opportunity presents itself, it's quite possible that I would be faced with the temptation to eat some ice cream… even though the doctor has told me not to. You see, I hate the consequences of the ice cream (being fat, the tight clothing, the health issues that come with obesity….) but I don't hate the ice cream itself.

And, when you stop to think about it, this is the attitude that many people, even Christians, have towards sin. We hate the consequences of the sin (the feelings of guilt or shame, the embarrassment of being found out, the punishment we might get, the ticket for speeding or the prison sentence for stealing, the broken relationship resulting from our unkind words…) but we don't hate the sin itself. If we did, we'd steer clear of it, just like I avoid butter and beer! And so, if we think that there might be no consequences to our sin - if we think that no one will find out, or we can reason to ourselves that it's not doing anyone any harm, or it's not going to be embarrassing because "everyone else is doing it, too" - then we probably will struggle with temptation and sometimes, maybe often, we'll simply give in to that temptation and go ahead and sin in secret! Because we only hate the consequences and we don't truly hate the sin itself. 

What we forget is that no sin is secret; it's always observed by our all-knowing God. And no sin is "without consequences." Even if we reason that it's not going to hurt anyone else, sin will always damage us ourselves and, most serious of all, our sin will break God's heart and cause Him great pain. We see that mentioned over and over again in the Old Testament.

And so this definition of the fear of the Lord, in Proverbs 8: 13, makes a lot of sense. If we truly love and respect God, if we have the fear of the Lord in our lives, then we will hate sin and evil and will want to avoid them with everything in us. We'll no longer be motivated to see what we can "get away with." Instead, we'll be motivated to pursue holiness and righteousness because those things honour God and help others to see His reality in the 21st century.

King Saul, in 1st Samuel 15, only cared about pleasing the people and being well thought of by others. He feared the people more than he feared the Lord, and so it was an easy thing for him to rationalise his disobedience and make excuses for it. And he wasn't alone in this; as we read the Old Testament, we see that generations of kings after him "did evil in the sight of the Lord."

If we truly fear the Lord, we'll be a lot more conscious of how we speak, of what we watch on TV, of what's going on in our thought life, etc, etc. We will hate any evil thing that causes God pain, and we will want to live to bring joy to His heart.

Have you ever wondered what people might say at your funeral, after you're gone? I guess it will depend on who happens to be there at the time. But I once read a little phrase in the Bible, a description of a little known Old Testament guy called Hananiah, who was appointed to a specific task because, "He was a man of integrity and he feared God more than most people do." When I read those words (in Nehemiah 7:2), I knew right away that this is what I wanted to be true of my life. No matter what else is said about me, whether positive or negative, I hope that this one thing will be evident: she had the fear of the Lord and the hatred of evil, perhaps more than most people do.

Sadly, that wasn't true of Saul, and my daily readings now are moving on to chapters about a different kind of guy altogether - someone who wasn't perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but who is described as a man after God's own heart. Watch this space!