A few days ago, I began reading in the Old Testament book of Deuteronomy, and my attention was caught almost immediately by a striking contrast in the first few verses. In Deuteronomy chapter 1 verse 2, it says, "Normally it takes eleven days to travel from Mount Sinai to Kadesh Barnea (the point from where the promised land could be seen and entered.) In the very next verse, Deuteronomy chapter 1 verse 3, it says, "But forty years after leaving Egypt…"
What a shocking contrast! You've probably heard it before. The journey to the promised land could have been completed in only 11 days. But instead, it took 40 years of wandering in the wilderness. And why? Because the people were stubborn, ungrateful and resistant to God's work in their lives. And so a journey that could have been completed relatively quickly ended up taking much, much longer.
I hate to think that the same could be true in my own life; that my lack of spiritual understanding, my failure to obey quickly or my doubts about the character of God could prevent me from being where and who God longs for me to be. May we learn from the sad history of the Israelites, and seek to follow God with all our hearts.
Read on in the post below for some further insights into what it means to start moving on.
Sunday, 30 April 2017
Break camp and move on...
In Deuteronomy chapter 1 verses 6 - 7, Moses reminds the people of something that God Himself had said to them, many years before: You have stayed at this mountain long enough. It's time to break camp and move on… Any time I read this verse, I have to make a pause for reflection: is there any area in my life where I've got "stuck"or am getting "stale" ? Anything where God is telling me it's time to move on?
The people of Israel had been at Mount Sinai for some time. It had been a place of wonderful revelation (the ten commandments had been given there) but also a place of devastating failure (the fiasco of the golden calf.) Our successes and our failures can both be part of what makes us stay too long in one place. But I guess that "breaking camp" also represents moving out of our comfort zone and being willing to venture beyond what has become familiar to us. So I find it interesting to look at the list of places the Israelites were urged to move on to:
The hill country - more challenging ground, where enemies like the Amorites lay ahead. Sometimes we don't break camp because we think the hills ahead will be too difficult for us.
The Jordan valley - sometimes we hesitate to head into the valleys and low places, fearing that they will be too discouraging for us. But the Jordan valley was also a place of being watered and becoming fertile.
The Negev - the dry, desert areas where pioneering something new is slow to bear fruit, and where all our patience and perseverance are tested.
The western foothills - perhaps these are like the place of preparation for new mountains to b conquered.
The coastal plane - a place of broad vistas, new horizons and uncharted waters; a place to receive new vision for launching forth.
All the neighbouring regions - all the other nearby places that God has for us. In missions terms, we might call these the "omega zones" of our world.
And all the way to the great river - just as the River Euphrates formed a natural boundary to the territory God was giving the Israelites, this speaks to me of persevering all the way to the boundaries that God has set in place for us; going as far as He is calling and allowing us to go, without allowing internal or external obstacles to make us set our own boundaries and limitations.
For me, stepping out and teaching a seminar in Spanish this year was one way of breaking camp, moving beyond what was safe and familiar to me, and starting to take some new hill country. Every time I plan an overseas ministry trip, it's part of going "all the way to the river" and not allowing my physical/health challenges to dictate what I can or can't do for God. What are the foothills, deserts, valleys or hill country that God is prompting you to move on to?
After listing the ground to be taken, God places the Israelites before two complementary verbs: giving and occupying. The Lord says, in verse 8, "Look, I am giving this land to you; go in and occupy it." God does His part, but the land will never be ours unless we do our part too. It's like when someone gives me a pair of shoes or slippers as a gift. Even when the giving has already happened, I'll never feel the benefit of those slippers unless I step into them; unless I put my feet into them and "occupy" them. Spiritually speaking, it's the same with the territory that God wants to give us.
So these few verses at the beginning of Deuteronomy once again caused me to pause and reflect on my lifelong journey with the Lord. Are there places where I need to break camp and move on to further things that God has for me?
The people of Israel had been at Mount Sinai for some time. It had been a place of wonderful revelation (the ten commandments had been given there) but also a place of devastating failure (the fiasco of the golden calf.) Our successes and our failures can both be part of what makes us stay too long in one place. But I guess that "breaking camp" also represents moving out of our comfort zone and being willing to venture beyond what has become familiar to us. So I find it interesting to look at the list of places the Israelites were urged to move on to:
The hill country - more challenging ground, where enemies like the Amorites lay ahead. Sometimes we don't break camp because we think the hills ahead will be too difficult for us.
The Jordan valley - sometimes we hesitate to head into the valleys and low places, fearing that they will be too discouraging for us. But the Jordan valley was also a place of being watered and becoming fertile.
The Negev - the dry, desert areas where pioneering something new is slow to bear fruit, and where all our patience and perseverance are tested.
The western foothills - perhaps these are like the place of preparation for new mountains to b conquered.
The coastal plane - a place of broad vistas, new horizons and uncharted waters; a place to receive new vision for launching forth.
All the neighbouring regions - all the other nearby places that God has for us. In missions terms, we might call these the "omega zones" of our world.
And all the way to the great river - just as the River Euphrates formed a natural boundary to the territory God was giving the Israelites, this speaks to me of persevering all the way to the boundaries that God has set in place for us; going as far as He is calling and allowing us to go, without allowing internal or external obstacles to make us set our own boundaries and limitations.
For me, stepping out and teaching a seminar in Spanish this year was one way of breaking camp, moving beyond what was safe and familiar to me, and starting to take some new hill country. Every time I plan an overseas ministry trip, it's part of going "all the way to the river" and not allowing my physical/health challenges to dictate what I can or can't do for God. What are the foothills, deserts, valleys or hill country that God is prompting you to move on to?
After listing the ground to be taken, God places the Israelites before two complementary verbs: giving and occupying. The Lord says, in verse 8, "Look, I am giving this land to you; go in and occupy it." God does His part, but the land will never be ours unless we do our part too. It's like when someone gives me a pair of shoes or slippers as a gift. Even when the giving has already happened, I'll never feel the benefit of those slippers unless I step into them; unless I put my feet into them and "occupy" them. Spiritually speaking, it's the same with the territory that God wants to give us.
So these few verses at the beginning of Deuteronomy once again caused me to pause and reflect on my lifelong journey with the Lord. Are there places where I need to break camp and move on to further things that God has for me?
Friday, 21 April 2017
Drawing closer or lingering further
Last weekend, in the days leading up to Easter, I was reading in the closing chapters of Luke's gospel. In the second half of Luke 22, two men caught my attention. One is the man whose ear was slashed off during a skirmish in a grove of olive trees. Luke doesn't tell us his name, but John's gospel tells us that he was the high priest's servant and his name was Malchus.
This man was one of the group who came to arrest Jesus, so I can imagine that he approached Him with feelings of aggression and hostility. I can't believe he remained unchanged, however, by what Jesus did for him after one of the disciples attacked him and cut off his ear. What must it have felt like to come to do harm to a man, and to have that very person reach out and touch you with gentleness and healing? We're never told what happened later in that man's life, but I can't help wondering if allowing Jesus to touch him (instead of resisting that touch) was the beginning of a journey that ultimately brought him closer to Jesus. When we're willing to give up our own independence and self-reliance, when we allow Jesus to touch us and make a difference in our lives, we'll find ourselves growing closer to Him from day to day.
The second man who caught my attention in this passage was the man who wielded the sword and caused Malchus's injury. John's version of the account tells us that this man was the disciple, Peter. No doubt his action, albeit impulsive, was a sign of his courage and was done with the best motivation in the world: he wanted to defend his friend and Lord, Jesus. I wonder what he thought when Jesus reverses his heroic efforts by healing the man's ear. I wonder what he felt when Jesus publicly corrected him and told him to put his sword away. John's account reports that Jesus said, "Shouldn't I drink from the cup of suffering that the Father has given me?" But Matthew reports that Jesus said to Peter, "Those who live by the sword will die by the sword."
Was Peter shocked? Confused? Disappointed? Hurt, offended, or embarrassed at what Jesus had said to him? What happens next, when they arrest Jesus and take him away, is that Peter follows, but now he follows "at a distance." Was he simply afraid of what might happen to him, or had he allowed a little distance to creep into his heart because of what had happened in the garden? Was he a little offended, a little mistrustful, a little disappointed that Jesus seemed so weak? For whatever reason, he allowed a little distance to set up, and that set the scene for the denial and betrayal that followed shortly afterwards. The distance was the beginning of a more serious separation in relationship.
It's so easy for this to happen in our own lives. It can happen in our relationship with God - when perhaps we feel disappointed that a prayer seems unanswered or that things don't turn out the way we hoped that they would. We begin to feel angry or offended at God. It can also happen in our relationships with other people - when someone says or does something that hurts us or makes us feel belittled or offended. We begin to distance ourselves in our hearts from that person, and slowly we're setting the scene for more serious alienation, conflict or criticism. How important it is to deal with such things immediately, and not allow distance to separate us from God or from others.
One incident, two men. One was perhaps drawn closer by the incident, while the other allowed it to push him away. How do you and I respond to the crisis incidents that we encounter in our everyday lives?
This man was one of the group who came to arrest Jesus, so I can imagine that he approached Him with feelings of aggression and hostility. I can't believe he remained unchanged, however, by what Jesus did for him after one of the disciples attacked him and cut off his ear. What must it have felt like to come to do harm to a man, and to have that very person reach out and touch you with gentleness and healing? We're never told what happened later in that man's life, but I can't help wondering if allowing Jesus to touch him (instead of resisting that touch) was the beginning of a journey that ultimately brought him closer to Jesus. When we're willing to give up our own independence and self-reliance, when we allow Jesus to touch us and make a difference in our lives, we'll find ourselves growing closer to Him from day to day.
The second man who caught my attention in this passage was the man who wielded the sword and caused Malchus's injury. John's version of the account tells us that this man was the disciple, Peter. No doubt his action, albeit impulsive, was a sign of his courage and was done with the best motivation in the world: he wanted to defend his friend and Lord, Jesus. I wonder what he thought when Jesus reverses his heroic efforts by healing the man's ear. I wonder what he felt when Jesus publicly corrected him and told him to put his sword away. John's account reports that Jesus said, "Shouldn't I drink from the cup of suffering that the Father has given me?" But Matthew reports that Jesus said to Peter, "Those who live by the sword will die by the sword."
Was Peter shocked? Confused? Disappointed? Hurt, offended, or embarrassed at what Jesus had said to him? What happens next, when they arrest Jesus and take him away, is that Peter follows, but now he follows "at a distance." Was he simply afraid of what might happen to him, or had he allowed a little distance to creep into his heart because of what had happened in the garden? Was he a little offended, a little mistrustful, a little disappointed that Jesus seemed so weak? For whatever reason, he allowed a little distance to set up, and that set the scene for the denial and betrayal that followed shortly afterwards. The distance was the beginning of a more serious separation in relationship.
It's so easy for this to happen in our own lives. It can happen in our relationship with God - when perhaps we feel disappointed that a prayer seems unanswered or that things don't turn out the way we hoped that they would. We begin to feel angry or offended at God. It can also happen in our relationships with other people - when someone says or does something that hurts us or makes us feel belittled or offended. We begin to distance ourselves in our hearts from that person, and slowly we're setting the scene for more serious alienation, conflict or criticism. How important it is to deal with such things immediately, and not allow distance to separate us from God or from others.
One incident, two men. One was perhaps drawn closer by the incident, while the other allowed it to push him away. How do you and I respond to the crisis incidents that we encounter in our everyday lives?
Friday, 14 April 2017
Failing yet not falling away...
It's Good Friday, the day when we particularly remember Jesus' death, and so it seemed appropriate that my Bible reading this morning was in Luke chapter 22. It tells the story of the last supper, and of various conversations that arose shortly afterwards.
Because I was reading in a Spanish Bible, I was struck by a little detail that isn't immediately apparent in the English version. In that conversation between Jesus and Peter (verses 31 - 34) Jesus says to him, "Satan has asked to sift you like wheat, but I have prayed for you, that your faith will not fail." In English, it sounds as if Satan has specifically targeted Peter, but in the Spanish (and presumably also in the original Greek) we can see that the first half of the sentence is in the plural.
Sátanas os ha pedido sacudir - "os" is the plural form of "you." Satan was going to shake all of the disciples, and not only Peter. But, interestingly, the second half of the sentence is in the singular: yo he rogado por tí - "tí" is the singular form of "you." Jesus says that he has been specifically praying for Peter, that his faith wouldn't fail. Does this mean that Jesus wasn't praying for the other disciples? Extremely unlikely! Jesus was no doubt praying for all of them, but He knew that Peter was in particular danger of losing or failing in his faith.
Then Jesus says, Cuando hayas vuelto - When you've come back again… When you've come back? Wait a minute! It almost sounds as if Jesus is saying, "My prayer won't be answered. I'm praying that you won't fail, but you will."
In fact, as Jesus understood well, it wasn't Peter's denial of Him that would be the evidence of failing faith. Fear would make him deny knowing Jesus, even though in his heart he did have faith that Jesus was who He said He was.
No, I think that where Peter's faith was in danger was in what his reaction would be to such as monumental failure. Would he allow shame to overwhelm him? Would he be able to believe that Jesus could ever forgive him for doing something so awful?
And so this was why Jesus has been praying specifically for Peter's faith. He knew about that glimmer of courage that would make Peter follow Him to the high priest's house, even when the others had already run away. He knew about that swell of panic that would make Peter deny Him three times. And He knew that failing so spectacularly would break Peter's heart, making him vulnerable to the enemy's taunts that what he'd done was unforgivable. This was the point at which Peter's faith could fail, and this was what Jesus was praying about.
Jesus' assurance of answered prayer is seen in the use of the subjunctive in Spanish - or what we call the future perfect tense in English: when you've come back, strengthen your brothers. Jesus was saying, "You're going to fail, Pater, but you're going to come back stronger for it." Perhaps it was the memory of these very words that later helped Peter not to give up completely.
Because I was reading in a Spanish Bible, I was struck by a little detail that isn't immediately apparent in the English version. In that conversation between Jesus and Peter (verses 31 - 34) Jesus says to him, "Satan has asked to sift you like wheat, but I have prayed for you, that your faith will not fail." In English, it sounds as if Satan has specifically targeted Peter, but in the Spanish (and presumably also in the original Greek) we can see that the first half of the sentence is in the plural.
Sátanas os ha pedido sacudir - "os" is the plural form of "you." Satan was going to shake all of the disciples, and not only Peter. But, interestingly, the second half of the sentence is in the singular: yo he rogado por tí - "tí" is the singular form of "you." Jesus says that he has been specifically praying for Peter, that his faith wouldn't fail. Does this mean that Jesus wasn't praying for the other disciples? Extremely unlikely! Jesus was no doubt praying for all of them, but He knew that Peter was in particular danger of losing or failing in his faith.
Then Jesus says, Cuando hayas vuelto - When you've come back again… When you've come back? Wait a minute! It almost sounds as if Jesus is saying, "My prayer won't be answered. I'm praying that you won't fail, but you will."
In fact, as Jesus understood well, it wasn't Peter's denial of Him that would be the evidence of failing faith. Fear would make him deny knowing Jesus, even though in his heart he did have faith that Jesus was who He said He was.
No, I think that where Peter's faith was in danger was in what his reaction would be to such as monumental failure. Would he allow shame to overwhelm him? Would he be able to believe that Jesus could ever forgive him for doing something so awful?
And so this was why Jesus has been praying specifically for Peter's faith. He knew about that glimmer of courage that would make Peter follow Him to the high priest's house, even when the others had already run away. He knew about that swell of panic that would make Peter deny Him three times. And He knew that failing so spectacularly would break Peter's heart, making him vulnerable to the enemy's taunts that what he'd done was unforgivable. This was the point at which Peter's faith could fail, and this was what Jesus was praying about.
Jesus' assurance of answered prayer is seen in the use of the subjunctive in Spanish - or what we call the future perfect tense in English: when you've come back, strengthen your brothers. Jesus was saying, "You're going to fail, Pater, but you're going to come back stronger for it." Perhaps it was the memory of these very words that later helped Peter not to give up completely.
Tuesday, 11 April 2017
Semana santa
In this last week before the leadership development course starts and fills up the next seven weeks, I've been working not only on last-minute bits and pieces for LDC, but also on the advance preparations for other ministry events happening later this year. One of these is our all-Europe KKI gathering which will bring hundreds of people together in Finland this October. While team members in Switzerland are working to complete the website and online registration forms, I've been getting reading the mailing that will go out all over Europe to let people know that they can now register for the conference.
My other project this week has been to work on writing a booklet of Bible reading notes that will be used (in French and German) by the young people who come on our Reformation Tour outreach this July. I'm basing the material on the five "solas" of the Reformation - truths that transformed the European church of the 16th Century. The tour itself will see us driving five thousand miles across Europe, visiting places in Switzerland and Germany that played a key role in the Reformation, before linking with Catholic friends in Austria and travelling together to the Vatican.
Spring is beginning to come here in southern Spain and we're having pleasant sunny days for the Holy Week holidays. There would be a big temptation to be out in the sun, walking the dog, but unfortunately I injured my ankle and foot last week. Buba proved to be incredibly well behaved when walked at a snail's pace by someone on crutches, but the walk was enough to show me that I needed to rest the foot more and not be out and about on it, if I want it to recover well before LDC begins. Although it doesn't appear to be a serious injury, it's still quite sensitive when I put weight on it, so I'm praying it heals up very soon.
My other project this week has been to work on writing a booklet of Bible reading notes that will be used (in French and German) by the young people who come on our Reformation Tour outreach this July. I'm basing the material on the five "solas" of the Reformation - truths that transformed the European church of the 16th Century. The tour itself will see us driving five thousand miles across Europe, visiting places in Switzerland and Germany that played a key role in the Reformation, before linking with Catholic friends in Austria and travelling together to the Vatican.
Spring is beginning to come here in southern Spain and we're having pleasant sunny days for the Holy Week holidays. There would be a big temptation to be out in the sun, walking the dog, but unfortunately I injured my ankle and foot last week. Buba proved to be incredibly well behaved when walked at a snail's pace by someone on crutches, but the walk was enough to show me that I needed to rest the foot more and not be out and about on it, if I want it to recover well before LDC begins. Although it doesn't appear to be a serious injury, it's still quite sensitive when I put weight on it, so I'm praying it heals up very soon.
Monday, 10 April 2017
Knowing our own hearts
In the weeks leading up to Easter, I've been reading the Bible in the gospel of Luke. Yesterday, Palm Sunday, I appropriately reached the chapter that tells of how Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey, while the people waved palm branches and called out praises.
In the previous chapter (Luke chapter 18) there are some episodes that illustrate how little we know our own hearts. For example, there's the story of two men praying in the temple. One, a tax collector, humbly prays for God's mercy and forgiveness, while the other, a Pharisee, arrogantly thanks God that he is not a "sinner" as the tax collector is. This second man, a religious man, was completely blind to the pride in his own heart.
Earlier this week, I had a strange and perplexing experience when a friend thought that I was showing the same attitude as this Pharisee. In all sincerity, I had written something in an email exchange, expressing surprise at something that had been shared in a group conversation, but my friend interpreted my comments as a thinly-veiled accusation - a way of implying that I was superior to the particular temptation we'd been discussing. It was all a misunderstanding, and was quickly cleared up, but it reminded me again of how different we all are in our approach to life, and how much we all need the Holy Spirit to help us know our own hearts.
In that same chapter of Luke's gospel, we read the account of a rich young man who came to Jesus, asking what he needed to do to inherit eternal life. When Jesus reminded him of the ten commandments, the young man replied, "I've obeyed all these commandments since I was young." Was he being arrogant and self-righteous? Was he claiming to be perfect? Probably not, or he wouldn't have asked Jesus what he still needed to do to inherit eternal life. (Unless perhaps he was hoping for Jesus' confirmation that his lifelong obedience was indeed what was needed for him to be saved.) But it seems more likely that he was, in all integrity, being faithful to the revelation that he already had at that point in his life. No doubt he was completely sincere in declaring that he hadn't stolen anything, killed anyone, committed adultery… or done any of the other behaviours he understood to be prohibited in the ten commandments.
What this young man needed, however, was for Jesus to help him see where he still lacked revelation, or where something else was in danger of taking the place of God. So when Jesus asked him to give all of his money to the poor, that brought him up short, because he was incredibly rich. Until that point in his life, this sincere young man had probably never considered that his wealth could be an idol, standing in the way of his radical obedience to following God.
When Jesus called the fishermen, Peter, James and John, to follow him, they left their nets and went with Him immediately. Does this mean that they were "better" or more spiritual than this sincere young man? Not necessarily. It might simply mean that they had fewer material resources to give up, and so their earthly wealth wasn't in danger of becoming a stumbling block to them. The fishermen's particular temptations would be revealed later, as they continued their journey and daily life brought forth some of their own weaknesses and temptations.
I remember a conversation I once had with a young person in Southern Africa. We were talking about Christian teenagers who struggled to give up smoking, and I happened to mention that I had never in my life tried smoking a cigarette. The girl looked at me as if I had two heads, and simply refused to believe that this was possible. "You never tried smoking even once," she said. "I suppose you'll tell me that you never struggled to stop swearing either." Put on the spot, I had to confess that I had never in my life uttered a swear word, or even been tempted to do so. I didn't grow up in a family where people used bad language or in a society where public profanity was in every movie and TV programme; I could think of no reason at all why I would want to express myself in that kind of language.
My experience was incomprehensible to this teenager; she refused to believe that smoking and swearing weren't things that every human being struggles with. But what I said was completely true: neither of these things was ever even a temptation to me... and so I suppose there's no virtue at all in my not having done them. We all have different temptations, different blind spots, different sins that are most likely to entrap us. I probably faced just as many temptations as other teenagers of my generation, but smoking and swearing didn't happen to be among them.
I suppose that the same thing was happening in the misunderstanding with my friend this week. The very thing I was surprised to consider, was perhaps an area where she had known struggle and God-given victory. My own struggles and victories have been completely different, and she might be equally surprised to think that Christians would find such things a challenge.
We're all different and so we all walk a different journey of discovering our own hearts. One person struggles with being judgemental and too self-reliant, while another struggles with an inferiority complex and with understanding his own value in God's eyes. One person struggles with materialism and over-spending, while another struggles with a poverty mentality and the tendency to be stingy. Some Christians struggle with drinking too much or watching too much TV, while others face completely different temptations and battle with eating too much or with being a workaholic. As the prophet Jeremiah wrote, thousands of years ago, the human heart is deceitful and often we are completely unaware of our own areas of weakness. (Jeremiah 17: 9)
And so the rich young man in Luke 19 needed Jesus to help him see his own heart; to help him understand that his wealth was the very thing that could become his dependency, an idol that could prevent him from abandoning himself fully to God. We all need Jesus and others to help us see our own areas of weakness and sin. It's our relationship with God and with others that helps us to grow and mature, knowing more of our own hearts and drawing on more of God's grace to live lives that are pleasing to Him.
In the previous chapter (Luke chapter 18) there are some episodes that illustrate how little we know our own hearts. For example, there's the story of two men praying in the temple. One, a tax collector, humbly prays for God's mercy and forgiveness, while the other, a Pharisee, arrogantly thanks God that he is not a "sinner" as the tax collector is. This second man, a religious man, was completely blind to the pride in his own heart.
Earlier this week, I had a strange and perplexing experience when a friend thought that I was showing the same attitude as this Pharisee. In all sincerity, I had written something in an email exchange, expressing surprise at something that had been shared in a group conversation, but my friend interpreted my comments as a thinly-veiled accusation - a way of implying that I was superior to the particular temptation we'd been discussing. It was all a misunderstanding, and was quickly cleared up, but it reminded me again of how different we all are in our approach to life, and how much we all need the Holy Spirit to help us know our own hearts.
In that same chapter of Luke's gospel, we read the account of a rich young man who came to Jesus, asking what he needed to do to inherit eternal life. When Jesus reminded him of the ten commandments, the young man replied, "I've obeyed all these commandments since I was young." Was he being arrogant and self-righteous? Was he claiming to be perfect? Probably not, or he wouldn't have asked Jesus what he still needed to do to inherit eternal life. (Unless perhaps he was hoping for Jesus' confirmation that his lifelong obedience was indeed what was needed for him to be saved.) But it seems more likely that he was, in all integrity, being faithful to the revelation that he already had at that point in his life. No doubt he was completely sincere in declaring that he hadn't stolen anything, killed anyone, committed adultery… or done any of the other behaviours he understood to be prohibited in the ten commandments.
What this young man needed, however, was for Jesus to help him see where he still lacked revelation, or where something else was in danger of taking the place of God. So when Jesus asked him to give all of his money to the poor, that brought him up short, because he was incredibly rich. Until that point in his life, this sincere young man had probably never considered that his wealth could be an idol, standing in the way of his radical obedience to following God.
When Jesus called the fishermen, Peter, James and John, to follow him, they left their nets and went with Him immediately. Does this mean that they were "better" or more spiritual than this sincere young man? Not necessarily. It might simply mean that they had fewer material resources to give up, and so their earthly wealth wasn't in danger of becoming a stumbling block to them. The fishermen's particular temptations would be revealed later, as they continued their journey and daily life brought forth some of their own weaknesses and temptations.
I remember a conversation I once had with a young person in Southern Africa. We were talking about Christian teenagers who struggled to give up smoking, and I happened to mention that I had never in my life tried smoking a cigarette. The girl looked at me as if I had two heads, and simply refused to believe that this was possible. "You never tried smoking even once," she said. "I suppose you'll tell me that you never struggled to stop swearing either." Put on the spot, I had to confess that I had never in my life uttered a swear word, or even been tempted to do so. I didn't grow up in a family where people used bad language or in a society where public profanity was in every movie and TV programme; I could think of no reason at all why I would want to express myself in that kind of language.
My experience was incomprehensible to this teenager; she refused to believe that smoking and swearing weren't things that every human being struggles with. But what I said was completely true: neither of these things was ever even a temptation to me... and so I suppose there's no virtue at all in my not having done them. We all have different temptations, different blind spots, different sins that are most likely to entrap us. I probably faced just as many temptations as other teenagers of my generation, but smoking and swearing didn't happen to be among them.
I suppose that the same thing was happening in the misunderstanding with my friend this week. The very thing I was surprised to consider, was perhaps an area where she had known struggle and God-given victory. My own struggles and victories have been completely different, and she might be equally surprised to think that Christians would find such things a challenge.
We're all different and so we all walk a different journey of discovering our own hearts. One person struggles with being judgemental and too self-reliant, while another struggles with an inferiority complex and with understanding his own value in God's eyes. One person struggles with materialism and over-spending, while another struggles with a poverty mentality and the tendency to be stingy. Some Christians struggle with drinking too much or watching too much TV, while others face completely different temptations and battle with eating too much or with being a workaholic. As the prophet Jeremiah wrote, thousands of years ago, the human heart is deceitful and often we are completely unaware of our own areas of weakness. (Jeremiah 17: 9)
And so the rich young man in Luke 19 needed Jesus to help him see his own heart; to help him understand that his wealth was the very thing that could become his dependency, an idol that could prevent him from abandoning himself fully to God. We all need Jesus and others to help us see our own areas of weakness and sin. It's our relationship with God and with others that helps us to grow and mature, knowing more of our own hearts and drawing on more of God's grace to live lives that are pleasing to Him.
The countdown has begun..
So much has happened since my last blog post a few weeks ago. In particular, we hosted the FOCOS coach training workshop for Spanish speakers (some of the trainers and trainees are pictured above) which was a full and stimulating week. I had taken on the challenge of teaching in Spanish for the first time, and was relieved when that went well despite my initial nervousness. The trainees came from different parts of Spain and South America, and it was wonderful to witness their eagerness and enthusiasm about learning these new skills. A few days after the workshop ended and everyone was back home, we re-connected again for a "tele-class" over the internet, and it was so encouraging to hear how everyone was doing as they stepped out and began to work with their first coachees.
My ongoing computer challenge continued to steal some time from me. I decided to back things up manually and then use a backup to revert my computer to January, when it was on an older operating system and everything was working fine. This was a process that took more than twelve hours, but almost everything seems to be working okay again now. This means it's time for me to "catch up" with work that I had hoped to do before now, and before the leadership development course begins next week. In particular, I'm working on writing the young people's Bible reading curriculum for one of our outreaches this summer.
"Semana santa" (holy week) lies ahead, and the LDC staff will begin arriving in Spain towards the end of this week. The countdown has begun...
My ongoing computer challenge continued to steal some time from me. I decided to back things up manually and then use a backup to revert my computer to January, when it was on an older operating system and everything was working fine. This was a process that took more than twelve hours, but almost everything seems to be working okay again now. This means it's time for me to "catch up" with work that I had hoped to do before now, and before the leadership development course begins next week. In particular, I'm working on writing the young people's Bible reading curriculum for one of our outreaches this summer.
"Semana santa" (holy week) lies ahead, and the LDC staff will begin arriving in Spain towards the end of this week. The countdown has begun...
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