The way it's always been...

Back in the 1980s, a friend of mine was part of a missionary community seeking to reach out to a large city in Europe. More than 150 people lived in the mission building (a former hotel) and her bedroom was in an annexe leading off from an area with a large lounge. An early bedder, this meant that she was sometimes kept awake at night by the chatting and laughing of other missionaries and the guests that they were reaching out to. So she took a sheet of paper and a marker pen, and in her best handwriting she made a sign saying, "Please keep this sliding door closed after 9 pm. Thank you."

More than 25 years later, this lady was back in Europe and went to visit the community where she had once lived. Imagine her surprise when she went into the lounge and spotted the sign that said, "Please keep this door closed after 9 pm." It was no longer in her handwriting; someone had typed it up, laminated the paper and stuck it neatly on the glass panel of the door. It seemed a little strange, because her former bedroom was now used as an office, and no one was there after 9 pm. So she found one of the missionaries that lived in the community and asked him, "Excuse me, can you tell me why this door needs to be kept closed at night?"
The young man looked a little baffled. "I don't think I know the reason," he said, "but that's the way it's always been." In his desire to be helpful, he searched around a little in his imagination. "Maybe it's to keep the heat in," he suggested.

Well, my friend knew that this explanation made no sense at all, as there was a warm radiator in that corridor, just the same as in the staff lounge. But human traditions can be slow to die out. Often we accept them without question, because it's "the way things have always been," and when someone questions that or happens to believe or act differently, we search around in our minds to find a reason, a justification for the things that we've become so used to. In Christian circles, there's even a danger that we equate "the way it's always been" with the Biblical way, without stopping to examine and evaluate our beliefs and ways of doing things.

I was thinking about this just a couple of days ago, as I sat in our church service here in Spain and heard an announcement about the 10th Anniversary celebrations coming up next month. I looked around the church and thought about how the congregation had changed over the ten years since we planted it. Many new people have come in, some because they moved into the area, and others because they've come to know the Lord for the first time in their lives.

There was a time in church history, in some nations of Europe at least, where church was mainly for the rich and the middle class. The poor people were unable to go or were unwelcome there if they tried. As a result, this meant that the people who attended church were well-dressed in expensive clothes. As the gospel spread to others, and working class people were able to be part of church congregations, this tradition of "dressing up" for church somehow got passed on and accepted by all. The phrase" Sunday best" came into the English language, because people had one set of clothes that they wore to work in the factory or in the fields all week, and another set of clothes that they wore to go to church on a Sunday. As recently as the 1970s, I remember speaking to an elderly lady who told me that she had never been able to go to church as a child because she "didn't own a hat and coat."

This is a prime example of a human tradition whose origins have been forgotten, but whose practice persists in some circles until today. There's nothing even slightly Biblical about it; in fact, in the book of James, the believers are reproached for having a different standard in the way they treated a well-dressed rich person and a poor person dressed in rags. From earliest times in Jewish history (the Old Testament Hebrews in the desert) to the birth of the Christian church (the early believers in the book of Acts), the Biblical way was to "come as you are" - the only prerequisite being that you should seek to come with "clean hands and a pure heart." (See Psalm 15)

However did we reach a place in Christian history where coming to church with nice clothes was more important than coming to church with a pure, unselfish, uncritical and forgiving heart?

Like the young man who searched for an explanation for the tradition of keeping the door closed, we can probably think up all kinds of good reasons: it's because it's a celebration; it's because it's a sign of respect for God; it's because Sunday is a special day of the week.... But no matter how many explanations we think up, we can't escape the fact that we've enshrined a practice that had its roots in the unjust class system of previous generations, rather than in the eternal truth of the Word of God. 

As I looked around our church on Sunday and saw what a mixed bunch we were - some in their finery and others casual in their jeans - I couldn't help realising that some of them, especially the new believers, probably wouldn't be there if wearing fine and formal clothes had been a prerequisite for their acceptance into the family of God.

I'm not saying that we should turn up to church in our pyjamas or in our paint-splattered overalls (although I've seen both of those in an African setting where someone came straight from work and someone brought their kids ready for bed.) In fact, clothing isn't really the issue here; there are plenty of other human traditions that have become part of how we "do church." Like sitting in rows, instead of eating food around the table. Or having one person pray from up front, instead of everyone being involved in praying and worshipping the Lord...

I'm simply remembering that the people Jesus criticised most were the Pharisees, who revered the traditions of man while ignoring the things that were most important to God. It's a sad day when we get more concerned about someone coming into church with a cup of coffee than someone coming into church with pride in their heart or greed in their life.

One choice can change everything

This morning I felt challenged and impacted by one verse in particular from my morning reading. It was Mark chapter one verse 45 - where it says that the man who had been healed of leprosy ignored Jesus' command to keep quiet about what had happened to him. Instead, he went around telling everyone that he met. It's understandable: his life had been changed forever and he wanted to let people know about it. But the result of his enthusiastic "witnessing" was that it became impossible for Jesus to enter publicly into any towns or villages. 

You know those Jesus films where we always see Him out in an isolated place, surrounded by groups of people who have come to hear His teaching? That was necessary largely because of this leper's choice to disobey what Jesus had asked of him. That one man's actions, his decision to ignore what Jesus requested, made a huge difference to the early course of Jesus' ministry.

It could be easy for you or me to think that our "small" act of obedience or disobedience won't really make that much difference in the grand scheme of things. That choice not to forgive, that decision to contribute financially, that embarrassment that stopped us from speaking to someone...  We think that our lives are inconsequential and that these daily choices don't really make that much of an impact. But sometimes, as in this case, that one step of obedience, or that one seemingly small act of disobedience can totally change everything!

The Lion and the Lamb

In the season leading up to Christmas, I spent several weeks meditating on different aspects of who God is: the different names He is called by in the Bible, and the different aspects of His nature and character. One of those passages came up again this month, as I was reading daily in the very last book of the Bible.

In Revelation chapter five, a disciple called John finds himself in heaven before the throne of God. God is holding a scroll, full of special things that He wants to reveal to us, but no one can be found who is worthy to open the scroll, and John begins to weep.

Then an angel appears and tells him not to cry, because “the Lion of the tribe of Judah” is coming and is able to open the seals on the scroll. I wonder if John was feeling slightly terrified as he turned around and looked behind him to see this Lion. I lived in Africa long enough to know that the lion represents authority, power and strength. Everyone knows how majestic and fierce a lion can be; his sheer size and speed make him the king of the jungle, and no other animal dares to challenge him because they all know that no one can defeat him. John’s knees may have been trembling as he turned around to catch a glimpse of this fearsome beast.

Instead, what he sees is a lamb. And not just any lamb; this tiny little creature looks as if it has been slaughtered. I wonder what thoughts went through John’s mind in those moments. Did he feel confused when he didn’t see the mighty lion he was expecting? Did he think that this vulnerable lamb had been killed by the lion that the angel had spoken of?

But no! Although this lamb has obviously been slain, it isn’t lying helpless on the ground, like a casualty devoured by a predator. It is standing up, it is alive, and it walks across to take the scroll from the One who is sitting on the throne. Everyone that’s nearby falls down on their faces and begins to worship the lamb. And in a fearsome moment of lucidity, it probably dawned on John that the Lion and the Lamb were the same person: that they both represent the person of Jesus.

Could there be any more powerful image of authority and humility wrapped up in the same individual? Kingship and power, servanthood and sacrifice all reside in this same God.  This is what makes the angels cry, “Worthy!” - the understanding that Jesus could have defeated His opponents at any time, but instead, he held back His power and allowed people to subject Him to slaughter, to a horrifying and painful death.

Calling Jesus the Lion of Judah is synonymous with saying that He has won the victory: “Behold the Lion… has conquered.” And calling Him the sacrificial lamb speaks to us of the enormous price that He paid to atone for our sins and make that victory ours.

Jesus can be both Lamb and Lion to you today: He can forgive your sins when you need Him to, and He can give you strength, power and victory to live for Him in the sometimes confusing world of the 21st Century.

Beginning at the end...

At the beginning of this new year, I started reading at the very end of the Bible, and for the past three weeks I've been reading in the New Testament book of Revelation.

Some of you know that I also began the year with some uncertainties about how it would end: some questions and decisions that I needed to make about future steps.

So it was interesting to discover that that the very first verse of Revelation chapter one says that it is a book that is going to show the reader some things that will take place in the future. How reassuring to be reminded that, even if the future is unknown to us, we serve a God who fully knows everything about the past, present and future.

As that first chapter continues, however, the revelation given to John doesn't start off with things about the future; it starts off with a revelation of who Jesus is, in all His resurrection power, authority, glory and love. That is the most important revelation of all.

I began the year knowing that I needed some revelation and understanding about what I should do in the future (from the second half of this year.) But much more important to me is the desire to continue growing in my revelation of Jesus - in my knowledge and experience of the nature and character of God.

The same sense of priority comes up again in the first verse of Revelation chapter four. John hears a voice saying to him, "Come up here and I will show you what must take place after this." The invitation is to come closer to God; the outcome is to understand more about what should happen in the future. 

Sometimes, if we're in a season where we need to make a decision, it's easy to get these priorities all mixed up and to focus on the things we want to know... instead of focusing on the One who knows everything already. He is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and also the end. Let's heed His invitation to draw closer to Him in this first month of a new year.

A coaching FOCOS

No, it's not a spelling mistake. This month and next, one focus of my ministry involvement is to serve as a coach and trainer in the FOCOS (foundational coaching skills) workshop - an intensive seminar that equips missionaries and pastors to care for people by using a life-coaching approach.

So, last week, we hosted the trainees (pictured above) who are following the course in English. They came from several different countries of Europe, North America and the Middle East, and from a number of different organisations and denominations. They left last weekend, encouraged and energised to see how their understanding and their skills had grown over just one intensive week.

A couple of weeks from now, as we move into February, we'll run the same programme again, but this time with a Spanish language group. I'll be one of the two trainers for that, and I'm already beginning to prepare the thirteen sessions that I'll need to teach in Spanish. Thanks for your prayers.

New year, new season...

It's a new year, and I recently arrived back in Spain after spending Christmas with family in Scotland. Although southern Spain is considered to be a "winter sun" destination, I arrived back this week to pouring rain and snow-covered hilltops. Mornings are chilly when I take the dogs out for their walk, but the sun usually manages to make an appearance in the afternoon.

It's amazing to realise that this is the beginning of my tenth year in Spain. Time has gone by so fast. As a new year begins, it's also the beginning of a new season for us, as some big changes will be taking place for us this year in Malaga. You can read more about that in my January newsletter.

For now, I'll simply wish you God's richest blessings for 2018.

The Word became flesh

For the past month or so, I’ve been meditating on different aspects of the nature and character of God, working my way through a dozen or so attributes or names of God every week. During the week that I was reflecting on different aspects of the Trinty, and wiith Christmas approaching very soon, my attention was caught by the passage in the first chapter of John’s Gospel, where it says that, “the Word became flesh and lived among us.”

John begins his gospel by referring to Jesus as, “the Word.” It seems a strange name for a person; perhaps the aim was to catch the attention of people who knew that God created the whole universe by His word. His word represents His authority, as well as His power. It also reminds us that He speaks; that He is a God who communicates with us - which means that He is personal, and not just a “thing” or a spiritual force. As John unpacked who “the Word” is, his early readers had no trouble identifying that He was speaking about God Himself:

The word is eternal. (In the beginning was the Word.) He is distinct from God the Father (because it says that He was with God), yet at the same time He is God. He created everything that exists, and He is full of life, light, glory, grace and truth.

Although perhaps a bit controversial to Jews who believed in only one God, what John wrote wasn’t completely unheard of.  Jews had read the Genesis account of creation, where God said, “Let’s make man in our image,” and they knew that the prophet Isaiah had heard God saying, “Who shall I send, and who will go for us?” Plurality within the Godhead had already been hinted at before now, so John’s writing would not be too shocking up to this point, and the idea of understanding “the Word” to be God was not unacceptable to them.

What would have made them stop short, however, was the statement that the Word became flesh. How could their all-powerful, transcendent, infinite God become a limited human being. How could an immortal, invisible God have a physical human body?

As Christians, we’re so used to this concept that it doesn’t shock us. And pagans who celebrate Christmas aren’t shocked either by the idea of the baby in the stable because they probably see Jesus as human, but not as God, not as “the Word.” But the incarnation (becoming flesh) continues to be the biggest problem that Jews and Muslims have with the gospel: if God is really God, how could He possibly also be man?

So, in this introduction to His gospel, John took a concept that was already familiar to the Jews - the idea that God lived among them by being present in the Tabernacle or Tent of His presence - and he used that same word here as a verb. What he literally says here is that the Word became flesh, became human, and “tabernacled” among us. Jesus came to camp in our midst, but instead of being in a tent, He was in a human body. 

This is the true miracle of Christmas. It was mind blowing back then, and it still is today. But when we begin to grasp it, when we understand that God cared about us so much that He become one of us, it will change everything else from that point forward. It will prepare us to be participants in another miracle too: to those who believe and receive Him, He gives the right to become children of God. What exquisite symmetry: Jesus became the child of human beings, so that human beings could become children of God!