presence

There's no way really I could even begin to address the needs that most folk have. I don't even try to do so.

A couple óf instances today will show you what I mean. Two very different people and two very different sets of very human need.

Depression: and dementia.

These are, both of them, way too complicated things for me to be able to help or to heal. In fact, mostly I'm very aware of how I can probably do a great deal more harm than good by my well-intentioned efforts to do them good.

I'm neither a doctor nor a psychologist, so I don't have a clue about all of the underlying issues that there are 'behind the scenes' in people's lives.

So all I can bring is a presence. The presence of God.

Jesus, we're told, was anointed by God with the Holy Spirit and with power, and went around doing good - because God was with him.

Presence. The presence of God.

That's what he brought. And healing then flowed from his life. Wherever he went.

That's all I can ever be seeking to bring. The presence of God.

That alone is healing. God once declared to his people - a long time ago: I am the Lord who heals you.

Into all the darkness there is in a person's depression: into all the confusion there is in a person's dementia: the presence of God brings a measure of light and a brief little glimmer of peace.

May that which was true of my Lord be true of me. The Spirit of God resting on me. The presence of God going with me.

And healing being given to others.

freedom .. or anarchy?

There was just the one assembly today, but the theme remained the same.

This month's 'value' along at the primary school is that of having a positive attitude.

Week by week the head explains the value and works it through with the children. Today he told them a couple of simple stories - one about a little girl whose dream was that one day she'd really be able to skip: the other about a middle-aged man who couldn't read or write and decided it was time that he could.

It was more, I suppose, of the your-attitude-determines-your-altitude stuff. Aim high, think big, and .. well, go for it. Adopt a positive attitude.

As I've said before, I always enjoy being along at the school each week. Today was no different at all.

It's the other school I visit (albeit a good deal less frequently), though, which was in the news today. The local secondary school made the pages today of one of Scotland's tabloids.

Something rather different from a positive attitude lies behind what has been going on. At least on the part of some pupils. 'Allegedly', I think I'm meant to say.

Here's a quick guide as to what's supposedly been going on.

A new head teacher arrives. Back in October, I think it was she started.

In the eyes of at least some of the pupils she soon proves to be too strict for their liking.

Facebook comes to their rescue. Encouraged perhaps by the success not so long ago of a 'Facebook' campaign in regard to an exam which was viewed by the pupils as way too hard, some pupils launch a brand new FB 'group' calling for a new head teacher.

Facebook being what it is, of course, the FB 'group' soon becomes a band-wagon. And since anyone can say what they want on the 'book', all sorts of different comments are soon being posted there.

Some of them almost libellous.

The new head teacher finds out and is (understandably) none too chuffed. Would you be?

She phones the parents of those involved and speaks with the pupils themselves, requiring that the 'group' be removed from Facebook.

Some of the parents are now none too chuffed and think she's over-reacting. Presumably some of the pupils too.

And next thing you know the whole thing's in the tabloids for the rest of the world to read.

Some people are plainly saying that a mountain has been made out of a mole-hill. I'm not so sure I agree.

I've not met the head all that much. I'm not a teacher or a pupil at the school. I don't have children there. So I'm not perhaps that qualified to say that much.

For what it's worth, I happen to think the new head teacher is actually very good: I've been much impressed by the little I've seen. Firm, yes: and strong on basic discipline, yes. And so far as I'm concerned, that's no bad thing.

But I don't think that's the nub of the matter at all. The issue is not how good or bad the new head teacher is.

The issue is really 'authority'. And the sort of respect that's given to such authority.

Freedom does not mean you have the license to be saying just exactly what you like.

But you wouldn't have guessed that if ever you dip into Facebook. You get the impression from much that is written on Facebook that many presume they can say just whatever they like: use whatever language they like: target whoever they like.

One 'angry parent' quoted in the paper said - "It might have been a bit embarassing for her [I'm thinking, might have been..?] but unfortunately everything is on the internet now."

Er, yes. That's the nature of Facebook. It's up there for the whole wide world to see.

You're entitled to your private opinions. Sometimes, though, they're best kept private. They don't need to be voiced abroad.

Freedom, I repeat, is not a license to say just what you like. That's anarchy.

Freedom has bounds.

And in terms of our speech, and what we both say and write, here are the bounds that we're given.

"Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen."

Freedom involves restraint. That sort of restraint.

And it applies to the likes of Facebook as much as anywhere else. An awful lot of damage - and I may say an awful lot of hurt - would have been completely avoided had those simple bounds to our freedom been observed by the folk concerned.

But that, I guess, is one of the problems we face in our society today.

We don't have freedom, really, any more. It's more and more like anarchy.

When the kingdom of God disappears, the law of the jungle prevails.

madness is a perspective

Someone said to me today - you must be mad!

Maybe I am.

What triggered the comments was my being away for the day. Down south. To see my grand-daughter.

You maybe think - 'what's wrong with that?' To which I say - 'exactly!'

Except. Except it meant leaving the house at 2.45am, having a couple of hours with the lovely wee girl while she was up and awake, then heading back home for a meeting at night up here.

It's a strange sensation, I grant you, going to bed here in Edinburgh, having breakfast some 300 miles down the road in a delightful coffee shop in an old English market town, and being back up here for a meeting with others at night.

A mere 600 miles or so (just less) and about 11 hours on the road. And all, in some ways, to have the chance to play with my little grand-daughter and to hold her in my arms, for a fleeting little time.

This photo was taken a couple of months ago and Isla's changed a lot since then!

"But you got your 'fix'!" my daughter-in-law observed with a smile. She's nothing if not discerning. She's a whole load else as well, of course - but discerning with it!

And I did have good cause to be going down there - my wife was off to stay with them and I'd said I'd give her a lift down.

Madness? I guess some think it such.

But it's all to do with perspective.

It's the "I'd-go-a-million-miles-for-one-of-your-smiles" perspective.

It's the "better-is-one-day-in-your-courts-than-a-thousand-elsewhere" perspective which the psalmist declares.

It's the perspective of the Lord himself, whereby he puts himself out for the likes of us.

It's the perspective on life which sees a guy in the Bible like Philip going miles and miles out his way to meet up with one total stranger who's passing that way on his travels.

One day in your courts, O Lord, is better than a thousand elsewhere.

Ten minutes with my grandaughter is worth the ten hours (plus) of travel that the visit involves.

People matter. The Lord seems to think so, at any rate.

Am I really that mad? (That's a rhetorical question, by the way! You don't have to answer it - but, of course, do feel free to do so if you wish!)

Scripture Union

Having an SU group in the local school provides a huge opportunity.

One of the teachers along at the school - he and I we were running a group last year. But his circumstances were such that at the start of the new school year he simply was really unable to share the leading of the group. Getting a venue became a bit of a problem as well. And I was finding myself fairly tight for time as well.

So the SU group rather dropped off the radar.

It's exercised me a lot these past few months. I see the opportunity. I'm aware of the impact a time like that each week can have on a group of young children. So I've been pushing a bit to see if we can't start it up again. Sooner rather than later.

Today I was back at the school to do just that. And it looks like it's all systems go, with a view to our starting again next week!

The words of the final verse of Graham Kendrick's song (We'll walk the land) often come into mind:

We'll walk for truth, speak out for love;
In Jesus' name, we shall be strong
To lift the fallen, to save the children.
To fill the nation with Your song.

To save the children.

The children of our land today have little genuine roots. It's a dreadful generalisation, I know. But in the main it's true. They simply do not have these days the 'anchorage' that a grounding in the Word of God affords.

They don't know where they are. Half the time they don't have a clue as to who they are. They're lost, exposed, and vulnerable.

SU groups are one small way of tackling that massive need: of providing the 'rescue' they need.

We don't get a lot of time each week. little more than 20 minutes, if we're realistic. With a very mixed bunch of children.

Where do we start? What do we teach? How do we feed them the truth?

Our forbears had an answer in the catechisms they taught. I know there's a lot you might say about this catechitical approach - it had its downsides, too: but one thing it certainly gave was a grounding in truth.

We want to see a whole new generation of the children of our land being grounded again in the Scriptures, their lives, indeed, being rooted in a thorough-going relationship with Christ.

We want to see our nation filled again with the Lord's song.

An SU group is one good place to start! (I doubt we'll be using the catechism, mind! But the intent will be the same)

back-lash & front-lash

Let me say something about back-lash and front-lash. Mainly because they are a very real part of the day by day business of following Jesus Christ.

We're involved in a 'conflict'. That's how it's put in the Bible, and that's what Jesus, time and again, underscored.

There's no getting out of it. I'm repeatedly having to say to folk that if they really just want a comfortable, quiet and inconsequential life then don't get involved with the Lord. (But of course there are other, more serious drawbacks about living like that which don't bear our thinking about at all!)

Conflict. It's not what gets called a 'flesh and blood' conflict. Although that's sometimes involved.

It's a conflict against spiritual powers, solidly set against God.

They resent God, detest God, and are resolutely intent on spoiling whatever the Lord has made or is doing. They hate God, they hate God's Son, they hate God's church, they hate God's work, they hate God's servants.

Stupid, yes. Regrettable, yes. But it's a core fact of spiritual life, and the sooner it's learned the better. Being fore-warned is at least to be fore-armed. Being prepared is half the battle.

Mondays are often a 'back-lash' sort of day.

Sundays are a high day, of course. The day of resurrection. And as we gather week by week for worship on this day of resurrection, the Lord is very much at work in resurrecting, life-imparting power.

Sometimes it's almost palpably so. But it's there, that's what's going on.

The 'powers of darkness', as they're sometimes called, resent and detest such days. They hate it when the Lord's at work like that in people's lives, awakening folk from their spiritual slumber, opening eyes and imparting a sight and a sense of the Lord, stirring people into bold and faithful service.

When the Word of God is preached, that's what's going on. Nothing to do with the preacher as such, it's all to do with the Spirit of God, honouring his Word, working powerfully through his Word, as that Word is again released through the reading and preaching of Scripture.

Monday is often a 'back-lash' day. A day when the envy and venom of hell is directed in spite against the very human person who has preached that Word.

Pray for your preachers on Mondays! Most of them will need it.

There's 'front-lash', too, of course. 'Front-lash' is when the powers of darkness already have an inkling of what it is the Lord is set on doing. And they try to get in first and mess the whole thing up, distracting, depressing, discouraging the servants of God in whom and through whom the Lord is intent upon working.

Today's been a lot like that. A long and wearisome battle against the powers of darkness.

Partly back-lash: but partly 'front-lash', too. Because the Lord is at work in the lives of loads of people, and the powers of darkness dislike it and try to forestall it.

Not least by discouraging and demoralising and one way and another trying to shut God's servants up and render them inactive. How does it work?

One of the ways it works with me is through persistent criticism. I'm open, I hope, to criticism: and I'm always keen to learn. And I'm not suggesting at all that those who start to criticise are doing the devil's work.

Rather, I'm saying that this is one of the means by which the powers of darkness get on with their wretched work - at least with me. They've done their homework. They know how to knock me down. They know how to shut me up and sideline me.

They take the kindly criticism, offered most times from the best of motives, I'm sure, and twist it cruelly deep into my spirit with a single view in mind. That of discouraging me, demoralising me and driving me down to the point (quite easily reached) where I'm persuaded to think - it's useless.

It's useless, I'm useless, and the whole big Jesus thing itself is totally utterly useless. So what's the point of even giving it a try?

It works best when I'm tired, of course. Which makes Mondays fertile ground for this sort of thing.

And I have to battle hard against it. The temptation is very real - really very real - to shut up, give up and .. well, kind of put my hands up as well: in meek surrender.

It takes just about every last ounce of spiritual energy to stand firm against it. To see what's really going on, to 'resist the devil' and stand against his wiles.

In Jesus' name. Always that. That's the name, the one name, the powers of darkness respect. They resent it, but they have to give their grudging respect to Jesus. They know they've already been beaten by him.

They just try and make me forget it.

Today's been that sort of day. An important day in itself. The Lord's been at work, I'm aware of that, in the meeting I had with others across in the west, with the people I've seen and been with. Very significantly at work.

But it's been a very real spiritual 'scrap' that I've had to face to stick in there as I've borne both the back-lash and the front-lash of an increasingly desperate dominion of darkness.

"The Lord rebuke you, Satan!"

leaving the building

The fish have left the aquarium. That was yesterday's trauma.

Now, today - The church has left the building.

A worrying trend, some would think!

But, of course, the church hasn't quite literally left the building. At least, not judging by the volume of cables and lights and tables and chairs and all sorts of techie equipment which has been set up in our buildings for the conference being held here by that name.

The church has left the building.

It's run by one of the Vineyard fellowships, Causeway Coast Vineyard, from Coleraine in Northern Ireland. And the conference aim is ... well, I suppose to get folk out of the building: "..to learn how to live a life of extreme risk, unleashing the potential of your church to fulfil her mission."

That's what the handout says, at any rate. "Imagine healing, signs and wonders OUT THERE among the people as you impact your community with Kingdom power and authority. If you can imagine this .. then you are ready to discover just what happens when the church leaves the building."

Except, of course, they need a building to hold and host this conference.

Now you may not agree with the way that it's put, but the burden that lies on their hearts is one that we certainly share. There's not a million miles of difference between the challenge of this conference and what we've said ourselves as part of our 'vision statement'.

sharing good news: we see God growing a church here where his boundless love for the world is embodied in the lives of his people. We aim thus to bring and be good news to our families, friends and neighbours, submitted to the Spirit’s leading and prepared to think outside the box, move outside our walls, and step outside our comfort zones.

The burden is the same.

Good news happens out there, in the homes and hearts of all of the thousands of people with whom we interact.

And there are all sorts of ways that that happens.

Sometimes it's set in the context of death and bereavement: which is what it's been today for me.

What does that 'good news' look like in the homes of those bereaved?

Well, it surely means, first of all, our seeking to bring nothing less than the presence of Christ to the homes to which we go. Because when he's there, literally anything can happen.

Comfort is given. Healing takes place. Hope is inspired. Lives are transformed.

People meet with the Lord. Their perspective on life is changed. A whole new dimension of living can open up.

There's nothing automatic, though, in this. It only ever happens as we learn to live in conscious recognition of the leading and empowering the Spirit of the Lord affords.

But when we go in the power of the Spirit of God .. well, things happen. Out there.

Remember "how God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and power, and how he went around doing good and healing all who were under the power of the devil because God was with him."

That's the thing in a nutshell.

Empowered by the Spirit, we get around. Out there.

So be warned!

The fish have left the aquarium. The church has left the building.

We're learning to "live a life of extreme risk, unleashing the potential of your church to fulfil her mission."

What Jesus once did, he continues to do. Through us.

And it needn't be quite the disaster that my pioneering fish all proved the move to be!

a bad day at the aquarium

Gavin was in today.

He works for a firm who supply us with one of the printers we use, and from time to time he comes in. Just to check up that everything's going OK and we've not been encountering problems.

Service. With a smile. And a coffee. He's always glad to take time for a cup of coffee or tea. And a bit of a chat as well.

We got speaking about the recession. How it affected a firm like his, since a lot of the smaller firms with which his company deal have gone to the wall.

His line was simple and clear. In a time of recession the big fish eat the little ones.

He struck a raw nerve.

It hasn't ever crossed my mind before that Gavin is prophetic. I don't suppose it's crossed his mind either.

But it crossed my mind this morning as he spoke. And it occurred to me, too, that maybe my fish have been secretly reading this blog. Yes, you read that correctly!

Remember what I wrote here yesterday -

We depend on people dying. And maybe that's what's missing in much of the church today.

There's too little dying.

I fear that my fish maybe took this to heart. Today has been a disaster down here in my 'aquarium'.

I came in this morning and found that two of my fish had died overnight.

I have five fish in the tank (well, 'had', I suppose I should say): two large and three small. One large and one small had died overnight.

I immediately took the remaining three fish out and put them in a bowl full of water, with a view to my cleaning out the large tank. Next time I looked there were only two!

Don't ask me what happened. Logic dictates that one of three possible things must have happened while my back was turned:

1. the big fish swallowed one of the smaller ones (possible, I guess - it hasn't ever happened before in the tank, but there's always a first time for everything!)

2. the small fish jumped (or was flicked by the fin of the big fish) out of the bowl (more than possible, I suppose, but I couldn't find a trace of the fish at all on the floor or surfaces nearby)

3. the small fish simply dissolved (presumably in tears of grief and sorrow - but, of course, being immersed in water has never had that effect before on the fish and seems singularly unlikely)

My money's still on option 1, since there isn't a trace of the poor little fish. The big fish eat the little fish. To quote Gavin.

But the thing got worse. While I took the large tank out of the room to clean it all out, the big fish plainly got fed up with the bowl and tried an aquatic version of The Great Escape, leaping over the rim of the bowl in a daring imitation of Steve McQueen on his motor bike as he flew above the barbed wire.

It didn't do the fish any good, I'm sad to report. It was lying there prone on the floor when I returned. Limp and lifeless and lost.

A bad day down at the aquarium!

'Too little dying'? These fish have more than made up for it!

And all that's now left is one little fish in my sizeable tank.

We need to speak, Gavin. The big fish may have eaten the smaller fish: but if that's the case then there seems to be some sort of great aquatic justice going on.

A kind of 'pay-back' time for the greed that the big fish displayed.

'Trauma' like this, a miniature Job-like experience of multiple loss, makes you stop and think.

And I'm wondering if this is somehow a 'sign'. A visual reminder that sometimes the church is allowed by the Lord to decline, deplete and die. Until there's barely a single sole (pardon the pun) that's left. Sort of 'remnant theology'.

Is this what we're facing these days? Is this what lies ahead?

A wide-scale pruning in numbers, and a radical dying to self?

Is this how the spiritual 'recession' we're facing these days is addressed and resolved by the Lord?

More than just the 'big fish' (as in larger congregations) eating up the small ones. That happens. I'm not sure how healthy it is, but it happens all right.

But more than that. A lot of radical dying has got to go on.

dying

There was the chance today to chat again with a friend who pastors another congregation. He was talking about their accounts.

Times are hard. We're all aware of that. The recession and all that that entails.

This friend was saying they'd really been pleasantly surprised that they'd actually broken even. Albeit, he quickly qualified, it was due to a healthy legacy that some member had kindly left them in her will.

That, he said, was how it's generally been these last few years.

He didn't quite put it in just so many words, but the drift of what he was saying amounted to this -

We depend on people dying.

(Especially if they leave the church a legacy)..

An interesting line of thought. Because, of course, as a long-term financial strategy it's got one major flaw. Sooner or later the donors have all died off.

My friend was pointing to what is now true for us all. We're living, to some very large extent, on the capital 'borrowed' from former generations. And because this 'borrowed' capital is unlikely to be repaid, we're really 'borrowing' it too from the future generations of God's church.

We're living, in other words, on our reserves.

And that simply can't go on for ever.

I was at a meeting, early afternoon, up town, where this, in effect, was the burden of what was being said. (This was entirely independent of the friend I was speaking about).

We can't go on like this.

I'm no financial expert, but I can do some basic maths. And the 'maths', so far as I can understand the way things are, is essentially this. We got these sort of sums to do at school.

If the Ministries Council (the body which pays us ministers) is drawing each year on the church's reserves to the tune of some £5m;

and if the reserves on which they're drawing amount to, at most, some £60m;

then in how many years will the church's reserves run out?

It doesn't require any so-called rocket science. It's basic schoolboy maths. Even I can do the sums.

The church is running at a fairly considerable deficit.

One of those present this afternoon remarked that the combination of this particular deficit (the payment of her ministers), coupled with the pensions crisis, coupled with the recession, (and who knows what all else) was building towards, perhaps some years down the line, what we now call the 'perfect storm'.

Which is anything but perfect if you find yourself caught in the midst of the thing.

The response at the meeting was muted. To say the least. In amongst the bits I didn't understand, it seemed to me that what the folk were saying in response was basically this - we've been here before; these things come in cycles; don't worry, everything will be all right.

Everything will be all right.

On my way to the meeting I passed the gallery of Modern Art. It's got a sign on the front which says just that. Everything will be all right.

On the other side of the road, though, there's the Dean Gallery, which houses at present a different work of art in its grounds. A large sign that's made up entirely of lights, which roundly declares - there will be no miracles here.

Blind optimism on the one side. Stark realism on the other.

And in between?

Well, in between I guess I'm back to where my friend began.

We depend on people dying.

Not in terms of legacies, though. But in terms of the living of their lives.

Dying to sin. Dying to the world. Dying to self. Dying to a life of self-seeking pleasure.

Dying with Christ.

You know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that you through his poverty might become rich.

That sort of dying.

We depend on people dying. And maybe that's what's missing in much of the church today.

There's too little dying.

And if we won't die, then maybe the life of the church of Christ in the land that we love will slowly simply wither away.

If we won't die, his church here in Scotland will.

questions

"How's your mother?"

I was visiting someone who's getting now quite confused, and was on my way out. I'd enjoyed my time with the person who seemed really pretty perky. And I'd prayed as well.

Well and truly on my way out. I was almost at the door when the question was thrown.

An awkward one. Since my mother died a couple of years ago. As this individual would have certainly known in better days. She'd known my Mum for more than thirty years and was there at the funeral service. I think. I'm getting forgetful myself.

I want to be truthful. Lies never help. Even little white ones.

But I don't really think that it's going to do much good to get into the fact that my mother has passed away. It'll be upsetting. On all sorts of counts.

So I dodged the question a bit.

"Oh," I said, in a casual sort of way, "she's the same as ever."

Which is true, of course. And seemed to do the trick. There was a certain, solid comfort for the person in hearing that my Mum was the same as ever. Sort of re-assuring. Like the world is still a stable sort of place.

Which it is. Not just this world in which we live, but the realm of eternal glory into which my Mum has gone. It's a stable place. Secure. Enduring. And no longer exposed to the fluctuating circumstances we here in this present world must learn to live with now.

It made me see again that much of my time and energy is put towards preparing folk, not just to live out life here in this world - but preparing them for a world that's yet to come. And enabling them all to get a little taste of that far better world while still alive in this.

I'm not long back from our 'fellowship group'. It's been great these last two weeks to have had someone else along.

We've been starting to look at the record Luke gives of the life and ministry of Jesus. Taking it in pretty large chunks.

And one of the really good things about meeting like this is the chance there is for questions. He was full of questions!

Like - if God is so kind and so loving, how come poor old Zechariah gets to be totally dumb for nine months because he was a bit on the sceptical side when the angel told him his wife (who was well, well past it!) was going to have a baby?

And - why did Saul end up getting called Paul? And was Simon's being later called Peter the same sort of thing?

Good questions! And it led to some good discussion.

And a whole load more questions.

Mainly to do with the Bible we have and how we know it's true, and when it was written and how it's got into our hands and won't there have been just masses of alterations down the years and ... well, it went on and on.

But all of it useful and good. It's a gradual thing, faith in Jesus. Most of the time.

Most relationships are.

We want to be sure before we commit. And I think he was coming at things the wrong way round. Assuming he had to believe that the Bible is the very Word of God in order to trust in Jesus. But it's really the other way round.

Not - I believe the Bible is truly God's Word, and therefore I trust in Jesus.

More like - I've come to trust in Jesus as Lord, and therefore (because it was good enough for him, it's good enough for me) I gladly embrace the Bible as God's own word.

I want to avoid some deep philosophical discussion about the Bible being the Word of God (at least as our starting point), and get down to the basics of who this Jesus is and why he's so worth knowing.

Because what ultimately makes all the difference is relationship with him. If he is indeed risen, and is indeed Lord, and has indeed died for our sins ... well, it's him we need to know.

As my Mum knew him. And in death, in a very real way, went to be with her Lord, and entered a world that's stable, secure and all good.

How's my mother? She's at home, and she's good.

The same as ever she'll be!

altitude

School is invariably stimulating.

A sweeping generalisation, I know. But week by week, when I'm along at the Primary School to share in their assemblies, I'm always quite struck by the things that the Head is saying.

The 'value' this month is along the lines of having a positive attitude. Something like that.

And he had a great quote to go with it -

"Your attitude determines your altitude."

Which you have to read quite carefully if your eyesight's not 100%. Mine obviously isn't, as I had to read it twice (I read it first time round as Your attitude determines your attitude).

Attitude is everything.

I chatted with the Head a bit afterwards, and asked him where he got the quote. He wasn't entirely sure. But he thought it was good. A catchy one-liner which serves him well in promoting these values each month.

It's not all that dissimilar to what we read in the Bible. I can do all things through him who gives me strength.

Attitude (I can) and altitude (all things) again.

Except ever so subtly different because of how it's qualified. This is not just the mantra of 'positive thinking' ('if you think you can, you can').

This is tied to a crucial relationship. I can only do all things (indeed, I can only do anything) through him who gives me strength. As Jesus himself underlined as he gave the flip-side to this - apart from Me you can do nothing.

In other words, it's actually more relationship than attitude which determines the heights to which we will rise. And though it sounds so similar, it's actually whole worlds different.

It took me the whole assembly to work that out.

It's not quite as simple as the Head was making out.

The simple three-word formula is not quite how it is: attitude-determines-altitude. It's simple, sounds good, and seems to be so obvious.

But that's not really just how it is.

Relationship is where it all begins. For relationship determines perspective: perspective determines attitude: and attitude, in the context of that very basic, continued relationship, then determines altitude.

In other words, the quote cuts a few too many corners, and misses out the essence of it all. Which is pretty much how any heresy starts!

That's not to say I'm not all in favour of promoting a positive attitude. Don't get me wrong.

It's just to say that attitude is not where it starts. It starts with our relationship with Jesus Christ.

That's where everything starts.

commitment

Our midweek lunch-time services started up again today.

There wouldn't have been more than maybe 20 there, but the weather had a bit to do with that!

One of our regular worshippers then is still stuck out in France - travel's not been easy.

Another is stuck in the hospital after falling and breaking a bone.

We're working our way through the 'Songs of Ascent' - and are nearing the end at last! Psalm 132 today - one of the longer 'songs of ascent'.

It's about commitment basically. Ours (the first part of the psalm) and the Lord's (the second part).

The theme is pretty important. But I fear the notion is rather going out of vogue. Certainly in society at large. And because we all breathe in the air of contemporary life, it's less and less in evidence within the church of Christ.

People are often quite ready for short-term work. Some months, or a couple of years, perhaps. But the notion of giving oneself to a lifetime of service in some particular place is neither that attractive nor, today, that common.

David's concern in the vow that he made was essentially this - I won't rest at all until I've restored the Word of God to its central place in the life of God's people today.

That was his undertaking. It's also, in a slightly different context, and in a slightly different sense (spiritual rather than physical) - it's also the concern and commitment that I've sought to make.

That may well be the work of a lifetime, or more. And it involves a radical, costly commitment.

It was a vow that David made. Not a fad that he followed as long as it all felt good.

I remember reading, years ago, a book by Eugene Peterson called Under the Unpredictable Plant. It was a book about the prophet Jonah and his topsy-turvy ministry in Nineveh.

I like Peterson's books. Invariably they're hugely helpful, and this one was no exception.

And one of the things I was struck by in this book was in the very first chapter, where he's discussing the prophet's buying his ticket to Tarshish (which had a certain appeal as a western mediterranean resort): mainly to get out of his having to go to Nineveh (which didn't appeal at all).

This is what he wrote -

"Every time a pastor abandons one congregation for another out of boredom or anger or restlessness, the pastoral vocation of all of us is vitiated.

When I began my pastoral ministry in my present congregation, I determined to stay there for my entire ministry. I was thirty years old. There was nothing particularly attractive about the place; indeed, there was nothing but a cornfield there at the time. But I had been reading St Benedict and was pondering a radical innovation he had introduced that struck me as exceedingly wise. In the community of monks to which he was abbot he added to the three standard evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience, a fourth: he added the vow of stability."

He works through the logic of this with stark realism -

"The congregation is not a job site to be abandoned when a better offer comes along."

And a little bit later on he rounds this whole section off with the following statement -

"The norm for pastoral work is stability. Twenty-, thirty-, and forty-year-long pastorates should be typical among us (as they once were) and not exceptional. Far too many pastors change parishes out of adolescent boredom, not as a consequence of mature wisdom. When this happens, neither pastors nor congregations have access to the conditions that are hospitable to maturity in the faith."

If I'm going to see the Word of God restored to its rightful place at the centre of the church's life, that's going to be a long-term thing. I was speaking to someone today who said that a congregation probably needed 50 years of gospel ministry before they were able to think the way they should. 50 years!

We have to be in this thing for the long haul. Commitment.

Or the vow of stability, as good old Benedict put it all those many years ago.

Zimbabwe holocaust

For those of you who've been stirred by the film 'Mugabe & the white African' here's an article written by Ben Freeth posted on November 17th, an edited version of which appeared in The Spectator.

'Whenever I look at the charred ruin of what a few weeks ago was our home, and see on my bed when I close my eyes the flames that engulfed everything we owned, I can not help thinking of the flames that, to the nationalists of Germany, were the final solution to the Jewish question sixty years ago.

My wife’s grandfather, Landale Train, used to tell us of when, as a South African prisoner of war next to Dachau concentration camp, he used to smell the sweet sickly smoke of the burning Jews from the crematorium incinerators. The very word, “holocaust,” comes, I understand, from the Hebrew word “olah” which when translated to the Greek is holokausten. It means “a burnt offering to the Lord.” ...'

More...

reeling the fish in

A few days ago someone was speaking to me about fishing.

I can't for the life of me think just who it was, or even what the context was. I think it was maybe in the course of visiting folk in connection with a funeral.

Everything about it's a blur (I have little interest in fishing). Except I remember distinctly (and it stuck in my mind) the person explaining how he (or probably she) had been told that when, once you've thrown out your line, you feel the fish start to 'nibble', then you should pull on it hard and reel the fish in.

That's all I remember about that part of the conversation. As I say, fishing's not my forte. But that bit stuck in my mind for some reason.

Stick with me and you'll see why I'm telling you this!

Today I was out for lunch with some of the local leaders of different churches. Once most of them had gone, I ended up having a time of prayer with Douglas, who was hosting the thing, and with Clive - who'd come along at the end, specifically for a time of prayer.

Clive used to work here, a good while back, and presently works for UCCF in Edinburgh. He often pops in and uses one of the rooms in our halls as a quiet place to work. I've a lot of time for the guy. He and Douglas and I have really benefited much from time in prayer together before.

We were praying for a while. And as we prayed, Clive comes out with this -

He's been given a 'picture' as he prays, and he's recognising before the Lord what the picture is: it's the picture of a fisherman, who's feeling a nibble at the end of his line, and while I'm still getting over my total surprise, Clive's praying for me.

He knows that the picture's been given for me and he's praying the Lord would enable me now to be seeing there are all these 'nibbles' (interest on the part of different folk, folk just taking a taste, as it were), and to be able boldly to pull on the line and reel them in.

That's twice in a matter of days. The same picture. The same lesson. And spelled out quite plainly by Clive, who knew nothing at all of what had gone on before.

My instinct has always, I think, been to go very 'softly, softly' with those who are showing some interest in the gospel. To give the fish some slack, as it were, in terms of the fishing analogy.

And here, it seemed, was the Lord saying very clearly that that's not how it works. And not how he means me to be.

It was like he was urging me to be a good deal bolder, firmer, more direct, in summoning folk to Christ. To 'reel' folk in.

These are days of some urgency. That's for sure.

And these times of prayer that we share are times when the Lord draws near in a powerful, personal way.

Scary in a way. But altogether thrilling, too.

Mugabe and the braveheart Scots

The film. "Mugabe and the white African." It continues to be on my mind. A lot.

Remember I wrote that - " although they live those thousands of miles away, I don't want to let them down. I want to live here as they are living there. I'm involved in the same basic conflict."?

Well, maybe you don't remember! But it's there in my previous post.

'I'm involved in the same basic conflict.' I've been pondering that quite a bit. And am more persuaded of the truth of that than ever. There are some striking parallels between what's going on in Zimbabwe, and the conflict that we are involved in here in Scotland.

Zimbabwe, until quite recently, was known as the so-called 'bread-basket' of Africa. A country fertile and rich and producing the food which fed any number of peoples.

Isn't that, in a slightly different sense, what Scotland used to be? The 'bread-basket' of the world. The 'land of the book', feeding the world with the bread of life?

And isn't what's happened across the years in Scotland, pretty much what's been going on in the land of Zimbabwe? Hasn't our nation been hugely impoverished by the blind and greedy dictator which our godless and secular culture has grown to become?

And are not we, who love the Lord, and cherish the Scriptures as the very Word of God - are not we the 'farmers' who must likewise stand our ground and plead the cause of righteousness and truth?

Don't our children and grandchildren depend on us for this? Aren't there teeming multitudes today, now starved of God's Word, who know, deep down, that something's wrong, that this is not the way it's meant to be, but don't know what to do?

Aren't there countless thousands through our land who sense with some discomfort that there's something deeply troubling in the soft, permissive, 'so-correct' society in which they live?

But the thing is so pervasive and the pressures so insistent that they don't know what to do or where to start or how to change the course of things at all.

Aren't there countless multitudes who long that there'd be someone who would stand against this tyranny, the 'Mugabe of the mindset' which has foisted all its evil on our land?

And isn't that what just exactly we're called to be and to do in these days?

Isn't the conflict essentially the same? It simply takes a different form.

In Zimbabwe the dictator's a man. Here in our nation the thing which does the dictating is more of a mindset than anything else: a monster of the mind, a secular and self-affirming outlook or philosophy which has grown down through the years and now, it seems, entirely rules the roost.

It's the same basic conflict. The effects are in essence the same. A land and a people so hugely and sorely impoverished.

And looking for the few remaining 'farmers' to stand their ground, to stand against the currents of the present age and see our land restored to true prosperity in Christ.

This little bit from the pen of an early disciple of Jesus has impressed itself on my heart again.

"Whatever happens, conduct yourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ. Then, whether I come and see you or only hear about you in my absence, I will know that you stand firm in one spirit, contending as one man for the faith of the gospel without being frightened in any way by those who oppose you.

For it has been granted to you on behalf of Christ not only to believe on him, but also to suffer for him, since you are going through the same struggle you saw I had, and now hear that I still have."

We're all in this together.

the white African & Mugabe

Tonight I was able to go and see the film.

'Mugabe & the white African'.

Make sure you do, too, if you get even half a chance. It's powerful, moving, stirring, disturbing. It warrants the accolades it's already been given. It should, indeed, be right up there on the short-list for Oscar Nomination.

Here, in the fairly immediate aftermath of watching the film - here, in headline form, is something of the impact that it had on me.

Pain. I'll get this over with first. I found it upsetting. I kept thinking - that's my family, those are my people.

There were tears running down my cheeks through the second half of the film. And part of the reason for that was the pain I felt for them. I know them. And I felt within my spirit the pain of the trials these folk have been through. I wept unashamedly for them.

Humility. It was humbling to see Christ in these ordinary people. The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Which has everything to do with the tough business of living for Christ in the world of today.

If you've always wondered what 'the fruit of the Spirit' looks like, go see the film. You'll see it in Mike and Angela: you'll see it in Ben and Laura. It's all there. All of it.

Humbling indeed. Movingly so.

Pride. A rightful pride, I hope. Pride in the fact that here were my folk showing the way to the world.

How do you respond to dictators? How do you deal with oppression?

The western way has too often and too easily been to send in the bombs and exercise military muscle.

Too often we've thought the only alternative way is a passive submission or averting our eyes and hoping it all goes away.

Here I was watching the Jesus way. No meek lying down and letting the guy simply trample all over the land. But no angry, violent resistance either.

This is the way of the cross. Standing up for the rights of others. Standing up for the cause of truth. Standing up for justice when the rule of law has gone. Standing up for the poor and oppressed. But without any vindictiveness. Just real compassion.

And prepared to take the suffering which comes. Beatings and torture, losing all worldly goods, losing, perhaps, your own life.

The way of the cross. The way of Jesus. I was proud of these folk that they show to the world what it means that Jesus is Lord.

I was proud of my Gran who years ago on my eighteenth birthday wrote me a short, simple letter in which she quoted words of the prophet Micah.

"What does the Lord require of you but to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God."

Proud that she'd pointed me forward like that. Proud that my relatives know how to live like that.

Proud of my Lord, that he's shown us the best way to live.

Gratitude. Gratitude for Mike and Angela and the way they've lived their lives on the basis of their confidence in Christ.

Gratitude for Ben and Laura and their warm, courageous faith - ready to risk all, including their own dear children - as they seek justice for the peoples of the land.

Gratitude for my forbears and the prayers by which they perpetuated their faith in the generations of their family.

I share a great-grandfather with Angela. The Rev John G Train, a fine, godly man, who preached the good news of Jesus without fear or favour, and who left behind a legacy of vibrant faith.

And gratitude, too, for the courage of the folk who made the film, at considerable risk to themselves: and who didn't gloss over the faith of these folk at the heart of all that they did.

Inspiration. I found it hugely inspiring. These are my people, I kept thinking.

Not just family. But the people of God, the people of whom I'm a part. This is where I belong and how I mean to live.

I stand with these folk, I pray for these folk, I serve with these folk. These are my people.

And although they live those thousands of miles away, I don't want to let them down. I want to live here as they are living there. I'm involved in the same basic conflict.

Something deep in my spirit was stirred again.

I think there's a verse in the book of Daniel which puts it well. The people who know their God shall do great exploits.

If you don't know what that means, you don't know what you're missing!

And you need to watch this film!