It is Time...

I've experienced a time when I've started to notice the waters are lapping at my feet. There is no threat in this for me, I just feel that I'm entering a phase where change is afoot. I think it all started rougly after a home group meeting, where I'd spoken to a friend and highlighted some of my grievences and my own dissatisfaction both with them and my own contribution to them. To my perception t seems that some of the classic damage I've taken in the past has led me to me throwing up a few robust defecnces. Some of these are understandable. Given my past decisions and the fact it took a case of divine intervention to snap me out of it and give me the courage to break away... I'm cautious in regards to leaving myself exposed to the same weaknesses that led to my earlier downfall. However that hasn't stopped me  from throwing up my own set of "Excalibur tests" for good measure.

I think that night at home group was a way of setting the scene -  a reminder of the state of play as it has stood.

A couple of weeks later, I was due to preach om Isaiah 42, and I chose to use the paternal/maternal instincrts of the eagle as my theme. In truth this has been something that had been close to my heart for many years... and it just seemed to fit naturally to the theme (it was Trinity Sunday), In short, I portrayed the Trinity in terms of the Father being  the parental eagle watching over us, the Son being the first born eagle that has tasken flight and shows us the where to go and how  we grow to go in that direction, and the Spirit as the breeze that lifts the chick when the time is right... to give it the courage to take the step off

Things have taken an interesting turn of late. the ledge. One of the points I made to the congregation was that if we are the chick in the nest, there is no wrong in wheat place we find ourselves. We might need to see where Jesus has led us before going... we may be waiting for the Spirit to  empower us. We might feel that we have takemn a tumble and our ego is bruised... but the Father is able to pick us up and set us ready for another go when the time is right.

I didn't think too much about the implications of that last one for myself... then it happened.

An unexpected opportunity arose that on the face of things completetely terrified me. Somebody had posed me a scenario that completely blindsided me (I'm not going into detail here, as at the moment it is still live). My paranoia, mistrust and fear had kicked in and I went into automatic shutdown.

It took me a week to emerge from that state by which time it might be too late, but I wrote all my feelings down and got it out of my system - why I am the way I am and why I'm so reticent. Kind of hard to do that because nobody ever asks me about stuff like that... and maybe when I do offer a response (or perhaps because of that fact), they are just as uncomfortable about what comes out. However, I did leave my response with a positive end and the prosepect of hope.

Not long after this, I felt God was reminding me of an image from a book I'd read (Grail in Stephen Lawhead's Pendragon Cycle). In the book there is a low point where King Arthur has hit rock bottom and is in the doldrums - his sword has been stolen, his queen has been kidnapped and his trusted righthand man has apparently betrayed him. Following this scene, Merlin confronts the king and prophetically strikes the floor with his staff repeatedly and with each strike, he urges the king to shake off what drags him down and look to the state of play an, I got the feeling that God was rep0d encourages him - he needs to rise up and resolve the situation and not leave himself in this fitful sulk.

Likewise, I got the feeling that God was repeatedly striking my floor and telling me to get up and no choke myself on the past. For after all, past is merely prologue... and we are only doomed to repeat if we do not learn from it. I think maybe I've been overlearning it.

On TikTok I've recently come across a few posts with a sermon illustration about the painting "Checkmate". How the human player is in despair becasuse the devil player has seemingly won. The anecdote in  the TikToks talk is basically that the king has one last move to make and the human player is saveable.  Now I've read up on the painting and apparently the literal anecdote isn't true because its hard to tell what the pieces in it resemble on the board. However the moral is true... because the same could certainly be said of the devil's pieces. If we can't see how he's got checkmate, then I would argue his position is not a dead cert either.  I think the truth behind that painting is that it is a character study.  The man who thinks he is losing has given in to his fears and is accepting the devil at his word.  But the thing is that the devil is a confidence trickster. He doesn't have checkmate - he's never hadd checkmate, but his sole objective is to terrify you and bluff you intop thinking he has. Never remove yourself from the game - listen to God's encouragement and accept his guidance and it is never over until God says it is over.

So anyway, a week has passed since all that happened... but confronted about my own sense of checkmate... I feel like I'm clawing my way back and have got a renewed sense of positivity. Whatever happens, I've learned not to retreat and cave on the broad stroke theme of this lesson. Yes, the specific  circumstance may not pan out... I may lose another piece... but I will not allow the devil to put so much emphasis on that piece... I'm going to push on his king instead. In good time and God's grace, I have faith that the landscape will change. Whatever major pieces of lost, I have a fistful of pawns.... and they are only a step away from becoming knights, rooks, bishops and who knows, even a queen.

This morning at church we wee reading Genesis 22 - God's testing of Abraham. We were asked in the sermon what things that we might be holding onto that God might be asking us to let go of. My heart at this point was drawn to an exchange from Babylon 5... because I was thinking there wasn't much I could add to the conversation... and God was reminding me otherwise:

Marcus Cole : You asked me to give something up, Delenn. I don't have anything left. It's all gone. My brother was the last of our family and he died because of my stupidity. He warned me of the Shadows; I didn't listen. And when they came, I lost, him, our home, the colony where we'd grown up, a woman I was quite fond of. I escaped with only the clothes on my back, and went off in search of these "Rangers" that he'd been going on about. Because he believed in them, and in you. Everything I was, everything I had, all of it, died that night. I don't have anything left to give.

Delenn : Then that is exactly what you must give up. Yes, you have lost much, endured much, sacrificed greatly. But you cling to the memory of your sacrifices, of all the things you have lost or left behind. They drag behind you, like chains of your own making. They can have a terrible power over you, Marcus: the power of grief, and loss, and regret. Yes, you have let go of the people, places and things, but you have not let go of the pain. You have not forgiven yourself.

Marcus Cole : For what?

Delenn : Being alive

There it was again, God's not going to let this go... he's not going to let me go either. It's down to me to rise up from the ashes and have faith that he's going to remove the dead weight that has held me in check. All I need to do is to take courage and stand upon the rock. The only thing that stand between a vibrant pridelands filled with life and the current perceived state of affairs, is a roar!

CROSSover: Jesus & Darmok

I've recently started binge re-watching Star Trek: The Next Generation on Netflix.  For some reason I decided to rewatch the other Star Trek spin-offs first... so like Eric Morecambe, I'm playing all the right notes, but not necessarily in the right order.

That last sentence is actually a useful metaphor for what I want to talk about today.  It's all about people behaving in a completely alien fashion, and how it bemuses us, possibly angers us and how we need to overcome that hurdle if we are to move beyond that.

So, in the TNG episode "Darmok", the Enterprise crew encounter a species known as the Tamarians/Children of Tama, who are desperate to open a dialogue with the Federation.  Great, no problem... except there's a catch; while the universal computer can translate all the relevant words into English... it can't make sense of how those words are utilised by the Tamarians in dialogue. All prior attempts at communication with the species have failed and no working relationship has ever been achieved.

Picard struggles to understand the Tamarians in the TNG epsiode, Darmok.

It turns out that the Tamarians speak in metaphors and use short statements from their mythology to convey the literal idea they wish to express. In the episode, the Captain of the vessel - Dathon, takes the radically unusual initiative of beaming himself and Captain Picard (the latter against his will), onto the planet surface to fight a creature in circumstances akin to those from Tamarian mythology.  The idea eventually works... but does so at the cost of his own life and all the while, as Picard is struggling to understand and establish a dialogue... the situation in space between the two starships, deteriorates and culminates in a brief firefight.  When the Enterprise is finally able to retrieve Picard, he hurries to the bridge and finally manages to speak to the Tamarians using what he learned from the encounter on the planet.  The possibility of friendship finally exists between the Federation and the Tamarians... as they finally have a way to communicate.

This got me thinking about today's epistle reading, particularly the last verse:

"The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy. For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross."

Colossians 1:15-20

 Scripture tells us that God's ways - like the Tamarians with the Federation, are completely foreign to us:

""For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.""

Isaiah 55:8-9

If you read the Bible it becomes very clear that humanity has struggled over the millennia to have a proper dialogue with God.  There are a few touched individuals through the ages who are blessed with the ability to convey or interpret God's messages in prophetic manner but the struggle to grasp what God's agenda is, is often a very real one as from a temporal perspective, his motives don't always seem consistent... because of our wrongdoing, our sin... we look at the world through a limited perspective that is tainted by our selfishness. In order to overcome this language barrier, God - like Dathon, took the extraordinary step of allowing his fullness to dwell within the confines of the full human experience.  However even then, in the Gospels... it becomes painfully apparent that the people he lived among struggled to understand the message he brought. You can clearly see Jesus acknowledgement, acceptance and even frustration with this at various times in the Gospel narratives.

Something even more radical needed to happen for God to be able to get through to us.

And that brings us once again to the cross.

There are many ways to look at Christ's sacrifice on the cross and I think some people (foolishly) fall into the trap of stating it means only one of those things... at the expense of the others; to do so, I think, means we miss out on the fullness of the message. To apply human psychology to God's reasoning for acting as he did... is to make the early mistakes of the Federation in dealing with the Tamarians - it is to foolishly use our own mindset to try and understand what somebody else (in God's case, infinitely higher and deeper), is saying.  Some theologians have argued that the idea of God punishing Jesus for our sin is "cosmic child abuse"... but that is to entirely miss the point of Jesus's nature. If the fullness of God is within Christ... then it is not about God projecting His anger onto a wholly separate child, it is about Him taking responsibility for what angers Him, upon Himself. It is also to deny the gravity of our situation... God has to take extraordinary harsh means to deal with a situation we are utterly incapable of dealing with in our own strength.

But I want to look at one thing Jesus' sacrifice does, that is echoed in that Star Trek episode... and that is that it provides a "Eureka" moment. Regardless of any physical functionality behind Jesus' death, when we step back at look at the simple facts - that God, believing us to be unable to save ourselves from a very real danger that he perceived... decided to send himself in the form of his Son, to alert us to our circumstance and confront us with the fullness of divine love, set against the heart of human darkness; we are presented with an opportunity to recognise and respond to that love.

Humans respond to love - when somebody (known or unknown) does something moving for us as an act of love in any form, we are burdened to respond. We might find it inappropriate or incompatible with how we feel, and choose to reject it... or we might change our behaviour or circumstances to acknowledge or even embrace it... but love always by its very nature, demands a response.

When Jesus died on the cross and revealed his reasons for doing so, we were confronted with the depth of God's love.

If we choose to embrace that love... the door is opened. We begin to speak God's language - the Holy Spirit is available to us, in a way that before Jesus death... just wasn't possible.

But it all starts with a single, audacious and extraordinary event instigated by someone who seems alien to us.

Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra.

God and humanity at the foot of the cross.

Habeas Corpus

I was asked to preach this morning on John: 20:19-31, which recounts the tale of St. Thomas and his moment of doubt (I refuse to call him "Doubting Thomas" because I don't believe that one incident defines him as a character).

I titled this talk Habeas Corpus which means "you may have the body", for reasons that I hope by the end... should become clear. But let me begin with a little joke:

A defendant was on trial for murder. There was strong evidence indicating guilt, but there was no corpse. In the defence's closing statement the lawyer, knowing that his client would probably be convicted, resorted to a trick: "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I have a surprise for you all," the lawyer said as he looked at his watch. "Within one minute, the person presumed dead in this case will walk into this courtroom."

He looked toward the courtroom door. The jurors, somewhat stunned, all looked on eagerly. A minute passed. Nothing happened.

Finally the lawyer said, "Actually, I made up the previous statement. But you all looked on with anticipation. I therefore put it to you that there is reasonable doubt in this case as to whether anyone was killed and insist that you return a verdict of not guilty."

The jury, clearly confused, retired to deliberate. A few minutes later, the jury returned and pronounced a verdict of guilty. "But how?" inquired the lawyer. "You must have had some doubt, I saw all of you stare at the door." The jury foreman replied: "Oh, we looked... but your client didn't!"

A couple of years ago I preached about Thomas and defended him as a passionate man who despite his moment of doubt, was a person who clearly deeply cared about Jesus and a man who we could all relate to.

However when I read the passage in preparation for this morning, I was struck by how Thomas's experience and the manner in which he expresses his doubt is especially relevant to our world today. Throughout history, people have had doubts about the resurrection of Jesus... But today we live in an age where for many outside the church, cynicism has been superseded by passionate and zealous unbelief. Some share the thinking of certain prominent critics of the Church that something cannot be believed without empirical evidence.

I felt that these demands very much echo the words and attitude of Thomas when he meets the disciples following their encounter with the risen Jesus.

Thomas didn't merely say "I can't believe" or "I struggle to believe"; Thomas declared "UNLESS I SEE... I *WILL NOT* BELIEVE". He was adamant!

Doesn't that sound familiar?

Usually when we see this part of the gospel performed in a play or a film, no sooner has Thomas uttered the words, then a great shaft of light breaks into the room and Jesus stands before Thomas. However if we read the text, we see that an entire week passes before Jesus is seen again. It makes you think, doesn't it? God doesn't always answer our doubts immediately... sometimes he gives us time to reflect on what we say and feel.

What is important here, is that although Thomas and the other apostles were in different spiritual places... they didn't disassociate themselves from one another. Thomas didn't dismiss his friends as crazy and disappear never to be seen again; for their part, the apostles bore with Thomas as he struggled to deal with what he must have considered to be outlandish claims.

I think there's a lesson for us all there, wherever we are. If we are struggling... don't give up. If we see our friend struggling... don't walk away from them just because they are on a different page. Isn't there a subconscious temptation to move towards a subtle parting of the waves when we gradually learn that a friend is moving in a somewhat different direction that disappoints us? If so... we should learn to wise up to it and resist its pull.

After the feast of Passover was finished and Thomas and the other apostles have had pause to reflect, Jesus returns to their presence to give Thomas his definitive answer. Thomas is confronted by the significance of his own words quoted back to him in the response of the all-knowing very real and living Jesus:

 "*Put* your finger here; *see* my hands. *Reach out* your hand and put it *in* my side".

The wonderful thing about Jesus' response to Thomas is how accommodating he is. Last week we read how in the garden, Jesus asked Mary Magdalene not to hold on to him as he had not yet ascended to the Father. Yet here Jesus not only invites Thomas to observe his wounds, but to actually reach out and touch them in an intimate way.

It shows us that when Jesus meets us at our point of need, he is selfless and personal. It does not matter to him how much it might cost, hurt or inconvenience him... he us wiling to offer his life and his wounds that we might believe and have life.

But the thing I feel most burdened to write about this morning, is how we are to witness to those who have that passionate disbelief about the nature of Jesus, as represented by Thomas.

Earlier I joked about a lawyer who tried to use the absence of his client's victim as a way of proving reasonable doubt of his crime. If you recall, the punchline was that the jury didn't believe the client because even though *they* looked to see if the victim would enter the court, the client in the dock,

didn't.

The Holy Spirit is like the defence lawyer in that joke. Now I'm not saying that the Holy Spirit is lying about the resurrected Jesus, far from it. What I am saying is that the Spirit prompts the people of the world to look to the idea, the reality of Jesus being alive. Yet so often, it's when people look back at us as his followers in the dock that their decision as to whether or not they are willing to believe is influenced.

If we aren't looking to the return of the resurrected Jesus, if we aren't living a life that acknowledges the resurrection in some way... do we not falsely make out to other that the Spirit lies?

Habeas Corpus. Can we present the body of the risen, living Jesus to the passionately disbelieving?

One day, whether it's tomorrow or in a million years, the Bible tells us that Jesus will walk through that courtroom door... every eye shall see. The people asking the question will have their empirical evidence. But what use is it to them then? In order to have life, they need to know it *now*.

Yet, while we wait for that day we have the opportunity to bring forth the body of the living Jesus, every day. As Paul tells us in his first letter to the Corinthians, While he sits at the right hand of the Father, We the Church *are* the body of Christ:

"Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it."

1 Corinthians 12:27

While we don't necessarily bring empirical evidence to people's lives, by our words and our actions we *can* demonstrate Christ alive and at work in us.

Here are three steps taken from this morning's readings, that I believe we can take that will do this:

1. Be at Peace and receive the Holy Spirit. Verse 21-23 tell us:
   

   "Again Jesus said, “Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.” And with that he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone’s sins, their sins are forgiven; if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.”
   

   John 20:21-23

   We need time to pause and reflect in God's presence... to breathe in the Holy Spirit and let God permeate our beings.  We also, when talking with people about God, if they get angry with us, need to do our best not to lose the peace God bestows on us and turn our conversations into verbal fire-fights. This is especially important in the Internet Age, where what starts out as well-meaning debate so often descend into a vitriolic slanging match.
2. Secondly, we need to let that peace, that sense of God's presence, develop our discipleship. The Acts 4:32-35 reading today encourages us to be one in heart and mind. Serving and loving God and one another in such a way that his grace works in us powerfully and testifies to the resurrection.
   
   The German theologian, Dietrich Bonhoeffer... who 70 years ago this week, was martyred by the Nazis once wrote:
   

   "Christianity without the living Christ is inevitably Christianity without discipleship, and Christianity without discipleship is always Christianity without Christ."

   If we breathe in the Holy Spirit in moments of peace and breathe out the Holy Spirit through our discipleship, the living Christ becomes evident to those around us.
    
3. Finally, we should allow God to use the marks of our own wounds to witness to others. Jesus said that as the Father sent him, He sends us. The Father sent Jesus in frailty to be one of us. When Thomas required physical proof of the resurrection, Jesus allowed him to touch his wounds.
   
   Similarly when we see people struggling in faith with something we've been through, we should seek to show our empathy and demonstrate that although God may sometimes allow us to experience hardship, he does walk beside us and lead us through it.

So to recap...

• Let us willingly receive the Holy Spirit
• Let the Spirit direct our discipleship
• Let those who suffer see the marks of our own spiritual testimony.

Peace be with you

Heroes Come in All Shades and Sizes

I've recently been observing an interesting debate/war of words going on over at Twitter. It seems ever since Marvel & Sony did the deal to bring Spider-Man into the Marvel cinematic universe, there has been a small but vocal reaction to the possibility of Peter Parker being recast as a black character (even though this hasn't even been decided... as far as I am aware). Dan Slott (one of the writers), is currently engaging these voices head-on.

Now those of you nerdy enough to be in the know, will be aware that in Marvel's Ultimate universe, there is already a black/hispanic Spider-Man called Miles Morales... and that the Nick Fury of that universe is also black (as indeed he is, in the Marvel cinematic universe), despite the fact that in the mainstream comic universe... he is white.

The future ethnic heritage of Spider-Man has recently been a matter of debate on Twitter

This is where I stand on the topic:

1. If the Spider-Man of the Marvel cinematic universe is a rebooted character then he can be of any ethnicity, it really doesn't matter... it's a fresh start and if we are honest, there is nothing, not one thing that says that Peter Parker is defined by ethnicity.
   
2. If there were any new universe versions of Spidey... they could be any ethnicity whatsoever... new universe, new rules.
   
3. If something happened in the main universe whereby the writers "did a Psylocke" or another plot along the lines of Superior Spider-Man, whereby Peter and his powers ended up in the body of somebody from another ethnic group... again, no problem... as long as the narrative gives a reasonable explanation for how the transfer happened.

I think the real reason that people are getting their webshooters in a twist is because they relate to Peter Parker as a fictional character.  They know what its like to be the nerdy kid in class who was picked on or looked over... and they fantasize about having the powers and responsibilities of Peter's heroic alter ego. All of this is fine... but we need to remember that our own relationship with a fictional character doesn't give us exclusive ownership of that character.

An important step in human maturity is developing the ability to decentralise our existence and understand that we are not the heart of the universe... and that other people have the right to appreciate the same things as us and relate to them in exactly the same way we do. This isn't something that is just restricted to the realms of fiction either. People might be quick to point out that  in the West, artistic and cinematic representation of Jesus Christ has largely been restricted to that of a white Caucasian... usually with flowing locks and blue eyes; this is despite the fact he was racially Semitic in origin. However the truth is far more kaleidoscopic and wonderfully complex than that.  If you take the time to explore other cultures where Christianity is present, you will see that Jesus is actually manifested in the dominant ethnicity of the country/region in question... and not just our own.

Rather than see different representation as a threat, isn't it better to use it to develop the commonality and empathy we share with these people and see past the superficial differences?

And ultimately in the final analysis... isn't what draws us to fictional characters like Spider-Man or real people like Jesus, the values, ethics and personality they exhibit... rather than the colour of their skin or shape of their body?

Everything Changes?

Happy Easter everybody - He is risen!

 

I have a confession to make...

From a personal perspective, I'm a little disappointed in the Church of England's choice of hashtag to promote its Easter tweets - #everythingchanges.

Now let me make it clear, I'm not going to be aggressively snarky about it, I'm absolutely grateful that the C of E bothers to engage on Twitter and has actually put some thought into a campaign at all. I also completely theologically agree with what I perceive to be at the heart of that statement. Easter is a game changer; as the sun dawned on that fateful first century Sunday morning, humankind went from being outcast... to family member, darkness... to light, death... to life. The hashtag absolutely reflects themes that prevail throughout Easter.

So what exactly bugs me about it?

Well for me, it is primarily an aesthetic thing. I don't like to think of myself as fundamentalist and in fact if anything, in a broad church I've turned running with the foxes and hunting with the hounds into something of art form. However #everythingchanges aside from being culturally reminiscent of a cheesy Take That song, feels a little vague and understated to me. Without something tying it into the events of Easter Sunday, it's easy for people who are not tweeting on topic to come in and subvert it (either accidentally or purposefully). This aside, we live in a world of constant flux... everything changes all the time; you might not think it if you look out of the window and still see snow and frost, but everything - the weather, our position in time and space and the fundamental elements that drive our universe - matter and energy are in a constant state of change.

When Jesus happened (I'm not sure I even wish to describe it as "what happened to Jesus" because He was the catalyst), it was an event like nothing ever seen before. People had been raised from the dead before (3 by prophets in the Old Testament and 2 by Jesus himself), but in those cases it was merely a case of the odometer being set back a few notches. Those people lived out the lives that had been given back to them... but in time, death would return to claim them.

 

Christ's resurrection was very different:

The reason my Father loves me is that I lay down my life—only to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down and authority to take it up again. This command I received from my Father.”

John 10:17-18

 

Jesus was resurrected by his own authority he didn't just temporarily survive death... he went beyond it, travelling through it and coming out on the other side:

 

"Now if we died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him.  For we know that since Christ was raised from the dead, he cannot die again; death no longer has mastery over him.  The death he died, he died to sin once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God."

Romans 6:8-10

 

Death no longer has mastery over him.... and the amazing thing is that Romans tells us  in that same excerpt that His death covers the cost of the wrongs we have committed... and that we have the unconditional offer to live his risen life. 1 Corinthians tells us that death has lost its sting... yes it still claims us from this life, but its effects are only temporal and not eternal.

 

So yes the rules, the game, the very nature of humankind's destiny have changed. Yet the changes are so much immeasurably higher, wider, deeper and truer than anything our humanity could conjure, ask or imagine... that to just say everything changes feels somewhat like living in a world where Apollo 11 is blasting off for the moon in the days of the cavemen... who as they celebrate the invention of their stone tools and wheels and fire, categorise the wonder they have just witnessed piercing the clouds in the same bracket.

 

So yes I'm sure that #everythingchanges will be a numeric success and I pray for it and wish it well in terms of outreach.

 

But let's remember that the resurrection of Christ is a concept so mind blowingly wonderful, with such a powerful message... that we need to make every effort to convey it in terms that do justice to its concept.

Cheesus.... or Jesus? A Response to Giles Fraser.

I entered pretty late into the furore surrounding Giles Fraser's latest article for The Guardian, only picking up on various exchanges about it on Twitter, yesterday evening. Nevertheless, having now read the article I decided to make a couple of observations.

 

First off, let me point out that I have no axe to grind... I respected the moral principle behind his resignation from St. Paul's Cathedral and I'm sure we have our differences on the theological spectrum... but in a broad church you take those things on a case by case basis... or at least,  I believe spiritual maturity requires us to do so.

 

I believe Fraser was attacking the superficial spirituality and language of cliché that sometimes plagues the Church. Quite why he singled out the evangelical wing of the church on this issue is beyond me... perhaps *he* had an axe to grind, perhaps not. Nevertheless I think his article comes across as portraying a syllogistically flawed argument, something like this:

Some Christians are evangelical

Some Christians are clichéd and superficial

Therefore all evangelicals are clichéd and superficial.

 

As a teenager, the youth group I was a member of had a pretty evangelical outlook. As we grew in faith and maturity... we recognised that some of the terminology was clichéd and a little alien to the outsider: Terms like "saved", "washed in the blood of the lamb", "slain in the Spirit", were among these. Whenever a brainstorming chart was being used in a seminar/preaching session, you could bet your bottom dollar that among the first responses would be "Jesus", "the Bible" or "peer pressure".

 

Never once would I have said that all my contemporaries were superficial Christians. It is just that sometimes, just sometimes if you hang around the same people often enough you pick up the trappings of a language. This is true in all walks of life.  It doesn't invalidate the principles behind the terminology, it just means that sometimes the terminology is unhelpful.

 

Fraser takes issue with the term "personal relationship". I get where he's coming from on this... the term is used so very often that it has become a bit of a cliché. However it is not like the word "Inconceivable" in The Princess Bride. In most cases people who invoke the term know *exactly* what it means and how important it is.  What is important though, is that the principles behind what a personal relationship with God means, and why it is so vital in Christian development are equally covered.

 

I dare say I have an evangelical outlook, I try not to use the terminology when I preach or talk... but I hope to God I get the principles across.

 

I don't like the idea that Fraser implies that I see Jesus as "buddy Christ". Yes I, do see him as the closest companion in my life journey... but if that truly means anything it has to have an effect on us and not just be a term. It leads to some pretty strange emotional places. For the apostle Paul it meant contemplating the desire to lose his own salvation if it  meant that others would gain it (he obviously knew that was not a place he would or even could go to, but it was a feeling he was expressing). For a friend of mine (and indeed myself), it sometimes means getting worked up when seeing a representation of The Passion - yes, theologically you know the crucifixion is the absolutely essential and inescapable destiny of Jesus... and you know that your own salvation (and that of others), depends on it happening... but as a developed Christian one who truly has a "personal relationship" with Christ... you kind of get pretty upset when you see someone representing him suffering.

 

This week, on Maundy Thursday... I'll be making my annual midnight pilgrimage up a local hill. I go there every year because I remember that on the night he was betrayed, Jesus's friends fell asleep and left him to suffer in anguish on his own... as he awaited the inevitable fate that awaited him. 2,000 years after the event, this does not sit well with me. There's precious little I can do but that which I can... I do. So just for an hour I try and get myself as close to the events as I can. I head out onto a remote hill overlooking town - in the cold... alone and vulnerable, and I read through the gospel accounts and I pray for Jesus.

 

As I said... "personal relationship" when genuine can lead you to strange places.

 

And as a Christian I have to say, I know how shockingly poor and bankrupt a Christian I can be sometimes... I know how dependent on God's grace I truly am. I have no place or time to patronise people because I know only too well how pitiful I am. I'm just as broken and in need of God's compassion as everybody else on this God favoured planet.

 

But this was not all Giles Fraser said and its not the part that upset most people I conversed online with.

 

He went on to suggest that the evangelistic position is one that somehow hardens a person against empathy towards the suffering of others.... but this is utterly wrong. I'm not saying this is not a possibility... but I will say that in my experience most evangelicals I know are most passionate about the concept of personal relationship because of tragic cost - always the tragic price that Christ paid and often the tragic cost of personal circumstances that the nearness of Christ's presence helped them through in a very real way.

 

Fraser suggests that the newly enthroned Archbishop of Canterbury - Justin Welby may be "inoculated" against evangelical cheesiness because he has suffered the bitter blows of personal tragedy, yet in the same paragraph expresses the fear that this merely masks a latent evangelism picked up from Welby's theological heritage.

 

I am greatly encouraged by Justin Welby (not least after meeting him last week). Aside from Fraser's comments, he's not without his critics in the evangelical wing either and personally I see this as a good thing. He strikes me as a man willing to listen and share the concerns of all those he is pastorally responsible for, not least those he theologically disagrees with. He seems assertive about his own beliefs and doesn't fall into the pitfalls of aggression or passiveness. This is what the church needs - to openly talk about its disagreements in a frank uncondemnatory way... and I suspect Welby may have a gift for this.

 

I'm reminded of the parable Jesus told a Pharisee named Simon, after receiving his criticism for being anointed by a "sinful" woman. The point that Jesus drove home was that the amount of affection we display is a response to the amount we realise we have been forgiven. This isn't just about sin though, is it? Jesus does not merely promise forgiveness... but life in abundance. When we are in the midst of the fiercest storm and the deepest spiritual need... He is there. When we have known times in our lives where clinging to that promise has meant absolutely everything to us... it fundamentally changes us and makes us more loving to those on the outside.

 

I know that thus far, I have by God's grace avoided the most tragic of personal circumstances... but I also know that there was a very long, dark time in my life when I felt trapped in a situation and had nobody I could talk to about it. In those times I know God did not give up on me and I know in the fullness of time it was He who directly delivered me out of that place. That experience and the knowledge of the patience and love of God for me during all that time changed everything for me... and having been faced with the insufficiency of my own ways, I know that my debt to Christ is immeasurably supermassive and that tempers any illusions I might ever had of being somehow superior.

 

In conclusion, it is not our various theological positions that define the depth of our relationship with God and our compassion towards others... it is our understanding of how dependent we are upon the vast storehouses of all that God provides in the harshest and fairest of seasons alike.

 

One more thing. Giles Fraser expressed fears for Justin Welby on the basis of his spiritual history with Holy Trinity Brompton. Let me redress the balance by reminding you of another part of his history.  For many years, Welby was on the frontline of the Ministry of Reconciliation at Coventry Cathedral. Perhaps then, it is fitting that following the fallout this article has caused... whatever our views, we contemplate together the litany of reconciliation... and remember that when we judge one another we mar God's image within us and need to be reconciled to one another... and to Him:

 

All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God...

The hatred which divides nation from nation, race from race, class from class,

Father Forgive.

 

The covetous desires of people and nations to possess what is not their own,


Father Forgive.

 

The greed which exploits the work of human hands and lays waste the earth,

Father Forgive.

 

Our envy of the welfare and happiness of others,


Father Forgive.

 

Our indifference to the plight of the imprisoned, the homeless, the refugee,


Father Forgive.

 

The lust which dishonours the bodies of men, women and children,


Father Forgive.

 

The pride which leads us to trust in ourselves and not in God,

Father Forgive.

 

Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.





If you wish to read more of what others have contributed, I am adding links below that I have discovered on the topic that provide additional commentaries:

God and Politics UK
Peter Ould
Hannah Mudge
alwaysperhaps
 

#Vigil2012

A few nights ago, I had an odd moment of inspiration.

I decided to pull into church on my way back from work. This is not something unusual or extraordinary in itself, I often drop in on the way home, to find a moment of respite and quiet to gather my thoughts... and pray for the church's development for a few minutes.

However while I was there on this occasion, my mind drifted towards what different people do in Lent. I'm not a great person for giving things up, for which I have my reasons (I think if you are going to give something sinful up, you should do your best to give it up as permanently as possible... and not just for 40 days; I also believe fasting is something that should be enacted out of personal conviction as and when needed and not enforced primarily by the liturgical calendar).

However, there's one thing I do that if the weathers holds out, I cherish doing every year. On the night of Maundy Thursday, I travel to the edge of town and I sit and meditate for a while... usually about an hour. My method has evolved over time but my reasoning and purpose have always remained the same.

You see I'm very mindful of the moment in the Gospels where Jesus found himself emotionally isolated from his friends, due in no small part to their weariness:

"They went to a place called Gethsemane, and Jesus said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.”  He took Peter, James and John along with him, and he began to be deeply distressed and troubled.  “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death,” he said to them. “Stay here and keep watch.”

 Going a little farther, he fell to the ground and prayed that if possible the hour might pass from him. “Abba, Father,” he said, “everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.”

Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. “Simon,” he said to Peter, “are you asleep? Couldn’t you keep watch for one hour? Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” 

Once more he went away and prayed the same thing. When he came back, he again found them sleeping, because their eyes were heavy. They did not know what to say to him.

Returning the third time, he said to them, “Are you still sleeping and resting? Enough! The hour has come. Look, the Son of Man is delivered into the hands of sinners."

Mark 14:32-42

Jesus prayed alone in Gethsemane

Knowing that God is not bound by time, I like to try and do my part... to keep watch for one hour. To think, pray and meditate about Jesus... in support of Jesus while in the past he is wrestling with his emotions in the garden. The very first year I did this, I went inside the local church to do it. However as I walked back home at about 3am (I was far more hardcore about it then), I decided to pause for a final moment of reflection in the park. It was then that one of those unique moments of magic that we so often miss if we are not alert to them, occurred. The church clock struck three times and over on the hills bordering the town, I heard a single lamb bleating.

That one moment defined the whole experience for me and gave me cause to try whenever I could to repeat the exercise al fresco. Following my time on the geographical Gethsemane, I went a step further and took to meditating on a hillside overlooking my town. Doing this has given me added insight because there is no light except that which you bring with you. Every noise you hear could be an animal or suspicious farmer wondering what on Earth you are doing. Every time the occasional car headlight sweeps past you from afar, you feel very exposed. These emotions have added to the experience for me... the psychological discomfort and insecurity they breed, help me to feel in a very small way, that I am sharing a minute glimpse... a microscopic  deposit of the kind of emotions that may have been with Jesus that night, many years ago.

The reason I'm bringing this up now and not merely at the time I do it, is because this year, I feel I'd like to encourage others to do something similar. This is why I've given my post a Twitter hashtag for a title. I am hoping to drum up a little support for the idea by using the hashtag #Vigil2012.

I don't imagine in a million years this is going to go viral or global... but it's something special and meaningful that I have appreciated over the years, that I want to be able to help others to discover and share in themselves.

I do appreciate that people have family commitments and in some cases a trip out into the wilderness might be inadvisable and dangerous. Do what you must to make it work for you in your personal circumstances... go in a group, or use a small room or open church, but spend the time however brief... and you won't be disappointed.

So spread the word with #Vigil2012 and if you do get involved, please let me know how you get on... I would be genuinely interested to know and share in your experience.

Blessings

Nick

Unexpected Journeys

Merry Christmas everyone!

I decided to write this post in response to a minor pang of guilt I experienced last night.

I was sat in the Midnight Eucharist service at church and listening to the vicar as he started his Christmas sermon. All was going well enough when he used a phrase... three little words that completely threw my concentration and caused me to tune out completely; just three words.

The phrase he used was "An unexpected journey". I have no idea how the next 5 minutes of the sermon went because I ended up mentally going here instead:

Yes, my mind had drifted over to The Shire. In fairness, I'm pretty psyched about The Hobbit, the trailer has only recently been released and I've been watching it quite a bit through sheer excitement. However whichever way you cut it, that probably wasn't the best time for me to choose to go off daydreaming... was it? Although... that said, some might argue my timing was perfect ;)

By way of recompense, I decided to write a little  bit on The Nativity that filled the gulf left by my lapse in concentration.

It occurs to me that there are a number of unexpected journeys involved in the Nativity story. First you have Mary... the young virgin pledged in marriage to Joseph. I am sure the last thing she expected was for an angel to appear in her pantry and advise her of God's plan to bring about the birth of the Messiah through her. Then there is Joseph. I am equally certain that the last thing he expected while he was working on a door frame, was for his fiance to tap him on the shoulder and advise him that she was carrying a child... let alone God's own son.

What of the shepherds tending their sheep? Did they expect the night sky to erupt in an explosion of light and rhymes as angels pouring out of the heavens announcing the arrival of the Christ child? Of course not. Or the Magi? Even if in their ruminations and studies they had anticipated that such a special child was coming into the world... they had no inkling whatsoever into the manner that child would arrive... or where he would be born.

All of these people were faced with circumstances that felt very alien to them; and each of them were presented with a difficult choice.  Mary had to choose whether she would be willing to carry God's child inside of her for 9 months and raise him to manhood knowing the potential difficulties society would throw at her. Joseph had to decide whether or not to honour his marriage commitment to Mary given the unusual story she was presenting him with... and the burden of raising and providing for a son that was not his own, while all the time hearing the jeers of scoffers and whispers of gossipmongers whose prejudice condemned his family. The shepherds had to decide if they were going to act on their trippy experience... possibly risking their already rubbish jobs, in order to see a baby whose significance they did not understand. The Magi had travel across half the Middle East picking up very expensive trade products based on a whimsical calculation over the movement of interplanetary bodies that might easily have proved baseless... especially when they got to Jerusalem and found things weren't as they assumed.

You see, with Jesus nobody knows what to expect. This was a key point that her majesty The Queen raised in her Christmas speech earlier today:

"God sent into the world a unique person - neither a philosopher nor a general, important though they are, but a Saviour, with the power to forgive."

It is as true today as it was then. In Jesus, nobody knows quite what to expect. People miss out on knowing and experiencing who Jesus is because they look at him through the lens of their own perceived wisdom and expectations. The Pharisees and Zealots failed to recognise Jesus when he appeared because they were anticipating a warrior king, a general. Similarly today, people mistakenly relegate Jesus to the same league as the philosophers and teachers of old - a line of thinking that C.S. Lewis robustly refuted in his Liar, Lunatic or Lord argument.

As a Christian I accept that Jesus Christ is far more than a decent man and a good teacher... but more than this I accept that his sovereignty as part of the Godhead and his role in my own life, give him the authority to step into my life and call upon me to set foot on unexpected journeys... to undertake unexpected things, constantly.

You may be reading this and not actually be a Christian and if so perhaps this is the beginning of an unexpected journey of your own. Confronted with the possibility that Jesus may be more than you imagine or understand him to be, are you prepared to invite him in and find out what his real agenda is in your life and the life of those around you?

Like Bilbo Baggins, if we set off on our own unexpected journey with Christ, we will find that we will have quite a tale to tell... and wherever our journey takes us, we too will be changed. To journey for Christ is to journey with him...

...and that changes everything.

Are you prepared to begin your own unexpected journey?

Doctor Who: Did I Say Epic? SPOILERS

I've just been watching the Doctor Who season 6 opener, The Impossible Astronaut. I thought it was utterly fantastic and highly disturbing. When I said in my last Doctor Who related post that I thought the trailer was hinting at an epic series... I realise I wasn't understating.

Kudos to Steven Moffatt for taking a gutsy move and apparently killing the Doctor forever, in the very first episode of the new series. It's got people scratching their heads, reeling in shock... scribbling down theories... and reacting strongly (with some seeing it as a tool to curtail the show and limiting it to a certain length in terms of episodes).

Is the Doctor's number finally up?

I don't think that's the case at all... and if you do, I humbly suggest you've probably bought into a deliberate red herring and swallowed it whole. If there is one thing Moffatt has a tremendous talent for, it's ratcheting up tension and suspense... and this I believe lies at the heart of what's going on. How do you add peril to a character who is seemingly unkillable (at least for another couple of generations), well it's simple... you kill them (in The Doctor's case by completely bypassing the "get out clause"! That way you have this shadow hanging over the character for at least the next episode and/or possibly the whole series. A master stroke. One warning here - don't expect Moffatt to simply retcon the death away... he's not RTD. Yes he may use timey wimey stuff to explain the situation but he won't flip a switch and deus ex machina his way out of the situation. I think the likelihood is that as the episodes/series go on, we will gain more and more insight into what was really going on in that seemingly final exchange... that will give us a new perspective and the proper resolution.

I thought the Silence were utterly creepifying. The exaggerated head size and skull like facial  features (sans mouth) made them look incredibly disturbing. Moffat has a penchant for plugging into our basest primordial fears and concerns in everyday life... and used this as inspiration for the Silence - how scary is an enemy that you can't remember even seeing?

The VERY sinister and creepy Silence.

The drama and suspense were neatly balanced with some top draw humour. The Doctor cropping up in history and drawing attention to himself in Enlightenment era art, a World War II prisoner escape tunnel and a Laurel & Hardy movie (complete with Fez), was good way to start the episode before taking a dark turn. The interaction between the Doctor and River was as usual flirty and charming... with the odd dash of cynicism on the Doctor's part. Calling her Mrs. Robinson was just brilliant though.

Next week can't come soon enough for me - Whomania is back... it is in full flow and it's going global.

I thought the episode was very appropriate for Easter Saturday. Firstly it reinforced what I was saying about Jesus and Brother Edward on Thursday... because the Doctor in this episode also finds himself in a situation where he knows his end is coming (he clearly knew who was in the astronaut suit and he knew exactly what was coming), yet the Doctor remained and accepted the fate put before him.

You also had River, Amy & Rory grieving and forlorn after the Doctor's demise, not knowing which way to turn or what the best thing. This made me think very much about how Jesus' companions must have felt, following Good Friday. If that wasn't enough you have the absolutely stunned reaction as the fourth invited party walks into the diner. Having just burned the Doctor's corpse... the mishmash of intense and varied emotions that hit Amy, Rory and River as they saw the Doctor walk through the door... perfectly mirrored the kind of expressions you might have expected from the apostles on Easter Sunday.

So as I said, all in all a great episode and a perfect one given the season.

I cannot finish this post without thanking the BBC for the wonderful, heartwarming and reminiscent tribute to Elisabeth Sladen (entitled: My Sarah Jane), that was screened on CBBC immediately after the episode... as well as the screen caption. I know some people will be wondering why the Nicholas Courtney (who playing the equally beloved Brigadier), didn't get a screen caption. I believe he will get one... the Beeb probably want to pay tribute to them respectfully as individuals and not cram them together like sardines. I also think Sarah-Jane's character is a very special one because more than any other companion or side character... she binds the classic and new series together. If you look at the tribute pages for Elisabeth Sladen you will see that she is appreciated by fans, new and old... right across the spectrum... that in itself pays tribute to the kind of sincerity and emotion Sladen brought to the role... and perhaps the biggest reason she will be deeply an sadly missed... but remembered and treasured with even greater fondness and respect.

All Alone in the Night?

Haven't blogged for a while, so I'd catch up by bringing you up to speed with my most recent actions.

If you are a regular reader, you may recall that back in 2009 I decided to change my meditation for Maundy Thursday. I did it as a response to having been to the Mount of Olives and concluding that perhaps the best place to get a feel for what happened back in the Garden of Gethsemane (if such a thing as at all possible - I believe we can only get a glimpse at best), I took my time of meditation into the wild... and sat on a hill overlooking the town.

Alas, last year I was unable to repeat the experience due to torrential rain. So this year - armed with the promise of a good weather (and what glorious weather it is), I resolved to return. I was especially nervous this year because the last time I went to the hill (last Autumn), there was a ridiculously oversized aggressive looking bull grazing there. As I reached the bridleway that led to the hill, my torch failed... so aside from the limited light afforded by the torch utility on my iPhone Sonic Screwdriver App... I was walking by faith, not by sight.

So many emotions ran through my head as I sat at the foot of the daffodil cross in the dead of night. There was the fear of being discovered by a surly farmer wondering what I was doing... or shish kebabed by an even surlier bull. I even had thoughts of bandits or rogues jumping out from the treeline. Or worse... LARPers.

That's the thing about the dark... isn't it? It amplifies everything... especially the negative. every sound you hear could be something coming to eat you... or worse. It gives you a great sense of being surrounded by threats and being devoid of support... alone.

That gives you some idea of some of the thoughts going through Jesus' head as his disciples lay sleeping in the background... as the wind blew, the tree branches clacked together ominously... and as the faint glow of torches and conspiratorial voices in the distance drew ominously nearer.

For him the threats were very real... as events on Good Friday proved.

Emotions are often one of the most stalwart and trustworthy allies in our human arsenal... they give us an impression of how we should respond to the world around us... and yet at times, they can quite easily be at odds with the facts.

Jesus above all people, knew that he was not alone in the garden. He prayed to his Father... who he shared a unique relationship with.... and yet from his words to his disciples, it's clear that he felt very much alone.

I find that very reassuring.

There are times when all of us feel alone... even if we know God... it can seem very much like we are fighting our battles alone. If the Son of God struggled with emotions like that, then we can be sure that the Father does not frown on us too hard when we find ourselves feeling that way.

The only thing he asks of us is that we are honest and give our emotions and struggles over to him.  If you look at the Gospel... that's exactly what Jesus did. How often though, do we cling tightly to our struggles? We become so obsessed with our battles and so proud about acknowledging they way we feel, that we neglect our greatest ally. Sometimes will not remove our circumstances... just as he did not remove "the cup" for Jesus (in the case of the former it's because we are not the centre of the universe, in the case of the latter it was because God esteemed humanity to be so precious to Him... that he deemed the suffering of his son as mandatory). Even if our circumstances are not changed though... we have the promise of God's presence and support in our lives and I don't think that is something we should dismiss as a consolation prize.

Another thing I've been doing of late, is rewatching Babylon 5. About a week or so ago I was in the latter end of Season 1. It was then that I hit upon the idea of trying to get to the season 3 episode "Passing Through Gethsemane" by Maundy Thursday... as the importance placed on events in the garden... are a central theme to the episode.

At one point the character of Brother Edward (played by Brad Dourif), is asked what is at the core of his beliefs. This is his answer:

"On the night before our Lord was crucified, he spent the night alone in the garden of Gethsemane and he knew that they were going to come for him and in a moment of weakness he asked if this cup could pass from him if he could be spared the pain and death that would come with morning; and of course the cup would not pass and the soldiers would come to Gethsemane; but he did not have to be there when they arrived. He could have chosen to leave... to postpone the inevitable for a few hours or even days. He knew what would happen but he chose to stay, to sacrifice himself and thus atone for the sins of others. A very fragile, human moment... and I've often thought about that night and I honestly don't know if I would have had the courage to have stayed."

Again it reinforces the loneliness and anguish experienced by Christ in Gethsemane... it also underlines his absolute resolve in completing his mission... the redemption of humanity. At the same time it challenges us about the level of our own convictions. When everything is called into question, when the cost is high and spiritual, emotional or even physical adversity loom over us... are we prepared to stand by our beliefs?

Brother Edward later discovers that he has a hidden past... he was once a serial killer who had been mind wiped for his crimes.... years later as an utterly benign and humble monk, he is forced to discover this truth when the relatives of his victims seek him out for revenge. Edward finds himself in a similar scenario to Christ... and following his example. He too, chooses to remain:

I find this scene extremely moving... especially the sincerity and compassion offered to Edward from Brother Theo (played by Louis Turenne), such is its impact on me that I actually well up with tears.

In his dying moments, Edward is filled with fear. Is there enough forgiveness for him... given what he has done? Theo reassures him that there is and administers the last rites.

If you ever find yourself asking yourself if there is enough forgiveness available to what you have done... then be assured the same is true for you. God's forgiveness is not based on a numeric accumulation of the wrongs you have done offset against Christ's sacrifice. It is dependent on only two things: Christ's sacrifice once for all, itself... and your genuine desire to repent of what you have done.

It doesn't matter what you have done. As long as you are willing to turn away from it with contrition, salvation and forgiveness are yours.

The final words Jesus chose to utter as he died on the cross are all about completion. Jesus effectively says it's done, over; the debt is paid, the law is satisfied.  From the minutest misdemeanor to the most grievous violation... everything is covered.

So my message to you today is simply this. If you genuinely seek forgiveness... it's there for you. Grab it with both hands and embrace it with all your heart.

Watching the Walls

I've been giving some thought lately to how we prevent the things we value about ourselves being exploited by outsiders... and how we protect ourselves from emotional intrusion or even invasion. This has arisen due to my feeling snooped upon in certain quarters.

Throughout my childhood, for whatever reason, I never really let anyone get too close to me... back then, friends were just people to play with who I cared about and I had no reason or perceivable need to open up on a deep and meaningful level to other people. I built a wall around the city of my heart that protected it from getting too badly damaged. The only people who were allowed in were pretty much myself and God.

However as I grew older I learned how isolated, adopting this position can leave you. A lot of the time when people look at you and cannot perceive anything beyond your walls... they tend to allow their limited experience of your interactions at face value... to be their definition of who you are; or worse, they project upon your walls an image of what they want you to be... something that me be as far removed about the truth of who you are is, as you can possibly imagine.

In short people in their fallibility do not often look for the man behind the curtain, nor understand who he really is if they should stumble upon him. People tend to get very comfortable with their own ideas of who a man is... we do like to keep people nicely filed away in categories... don't we?

Walls are okay... just so long as you don't forget to add a doorway and maybe the odd window here and there, shedding access and light into your heart... and of course as long as you don't remain hidden permanently away behind them.

I believe when you let someone into your heart (be it as an acquaintance, a friend or on a deeper level), you do so on your own terms and that anyone who can't respect that notion, should not be trusted. If someone goes looking through all your windows and scurrying up and down your walls seeking access into your life too deeply... then there is a disingenuous vein running through their actions. When someone doesn't try to get to know you casually in a direct manner, but instead  goes rifling through the elements of your life in depth first, it would appear that they are less interested in who you are... and more interested in what you can give them or what they can take out of you.

It is deeply disrespectful.

I was giving some thought to this with regard to my own beliefs as well:

“Very truly I tell you Pharisees, anyone who does not enter the sheep pen by the gate, but climbs in by some other way, is a thief and a robber.  The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep.  The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.  When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice.  But they will never follow a stranger; in fact, they will run away from him because they do not recognize a stranger’s voice.”  Jesus used this figure of speech, but the Pharisees did not understand what he was telling them.

Therefore Jesus said again, “Very truly I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. All who have come before me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep have not listened to them.  I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved. They will come in and go out, and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full."

John 10:1-6 

Isn't it interesting that Jesus uses similar terminology when describing the Kingdom of Heaven? I think God feels the same way about the Kingdom as we do about our own lives. This line of thinking has given me extra insight into Jesus other words:

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

John 14:6

People are often quick to use that verse as an exclusive statement... but I wonder how it would change our beliefs... if we who consider ourselves included would take a fresh look at this passage and the motives behind our beliefs.

Why do believe what we believe? What matters most to us as an end result of what we believe?  If our motivation for worship is simply to gain access to the Kingdom and life eternal... then could it not be argued that in fact, we are merely scurrying across the walls having glimpsed through the window of the Gospel message?

If someone married a person merely to get access to a substantial dowry or decided to try and enter into a relationship with someone merely to get affirmation about their own self worth... that would be an abuse. It would not be treating our neighbour as our self. It would just be selfish gratification.

Similarly if our primary aim in being a Christian remains rooted to what we get at the end of the journey, our walk is an idolatrous one... and we are not loving God.  I'm not condemning people whose journey starts out at that point. I think that can be understandable. I am saying that as we grow as Christians and become spiritually mature, we need to develop a proper relationship with God... one not based on what we have and can receive... but one based on who he is... and what that means to us.

In Ezekiel 16 God speaks of his relationship with Jerusalem... at how he first saves "her" from those that despised her and would not care for her... and yet later returns when she is full grown, to claim her in marriage. I think God totally accepts the places we start out from with him... but desires us to grow into individuals who are fully involved with him in their lives.

Back to my main point though. We cannot treat God or other people with disrespect... we cannot see them as a means to an end. 

Nor should we try and force ourselves upon others emotionally, psychologically, physically or spiritually. Jesus gave us the model for how we should approach people on a personal level:

Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.

Revelation 3:20

When God first enters our life, he respects us enough to wait at the front door. Of course, he already knows us intimately... because he created us and is omniscient.... however, isn't it comforting and reassuring that he never once abuses that knowledge to deceive us into choosing a relationship with him. He respects our free will and our individuality and values it perhaps more than we do at times.

So in conclusion, we must be careful to respect people's red lines. Walls exist for  a reason. We mustn't try and gain a foothold where we know it is inappropriate to do so. I know that when I have discovered someone trying to get close to me without my consent, it has made me immensely uncomfortable and distrustful. I watch my walls.

However when it comes to God and those who do not try and push themselves upon us, we must also remember to watch our doors too.