contemplation

Holy Week marks the end of the road for Jesus.

The final week of his earthly ministry. The culmination of all the previous years. The coming to fruition of all the seeds of salvation he'd been careful to sow across the countless months of ministry. The end.

There was a lot that was packed into eight short days. The fuse had been lit in days long gone. These were the sticks of dynamite, the eight short days that would blow to bits the pompous preconceptions people had and see the kingdom of God explode into the kingdoms of this earth.

The way we mark this Holy Week affords us quiet moments in our busy lives to pause and take it in. The week is gently punctuated with times for praise and prayer.

Today, not least, is the point in the week when this contemplative course kicks in.

The mid-week, mid-day service, rounding off a whole long stretch of services each week through which we've slowly followed Jesus' path towards Jerusalem, towards his cross, towards his solitary, final sacrifice.

Today we shared the bread and wine. The simple meal in which the broken bread and wine direct our hearts and minds towards that costly giving of himself, whereby the Lord secured for us, so freely, our truest, fullest welfare - for eternity.

At night we had again the chance to pause and follow through the journey to the cross.

The thing is called The Stations of the Cross. It's a 14-step reflection on the path that Jesus took.

Not a thing to which I'm that accustomed. And thus a thing I struggle to engage in as I should.

There are icons for each of the 'stations'. And by and large, if truth be told, the only sort of icons I'm familiar with are those on my computer. Which doesn't really help.

The sort of icons involved in the thing tonight are from a very different world from that in which I mostly do my living. I have to cross some borders, as it were, and enter into what is still a rather foreign land so far as I'm concerned.

But the challenge it brings is a challenge I need.

The skills of contemplation which this discipline requires are skills I need to cultivate and learn. They're mainly fairly alien to the culture I'm familiar with.

My mind and heart and thoughts all focused on a single little moment on that pain-filled, dark and dreadful path that Jesus trod: and with the slow reflection which our pausing at each 'station' brings, a window onto avenues of truth I need to see.

Truth which always challenges. Truth which always comforts. Truth which always draws me near to Christ.

It's the one day in the year that I'm exposed to such a discipline. And years on down the line I still don't find it easy to apply my mind like this.

The icons and responses from the gathered congregation are distracting for a guy like me. I feel I somehow need more time, more space; more solitude, more silence. More practice at the discipline involved.

But it's good for me to be out of my depth, and in some ways quite lost. It reminds me of my state before almighty God.

Lost. And, at best, no more than a humble learner.

Samaria

Tuesdays aren't generally a 'school day' for me at present.

But today I was along at an Easter assembly which one of the schools was holding. Not the local primary school. Another school nearby. The speaker they'd had lined up to come was now no longer available.

I got the call as a late-in-the-day substitute and was happy to oblige. The children were all P4 and P5 and the theme was, appropriately, 'Easter'. A great opportunity - a chance to make clear what Easter is really about.

Jesus: back from the dead.

Good news. A message that needs to be heard.

And yet, it's not without its challenge, a time like that. I don't get long and they're still just 9 or 10. And their backgrounds are very mixed.

But I'm getting to preach the gospel. Jesus and the resurrection.

When Paul went to Athens and spoke to the people there, that was the sum of his preaching. Jesus and the resurrection.

It's not exactly Athens where I'm speaking, the assembly is not in any sense the 'market-place'; and I'm certainly not the apostle Paul.

But the thrust of what I'm trying to get across is pretty much the same. In language that the people whom I'm speaking to can understand. Jesus and the resurrection.

First thing in the morning it's to children that I'm trying to share that message. Last thing in the afternoon it's a lady at the other end of life that I'm addressing.

The message is the same. Jesus and the resurrection.

She's now in a home. Failing quite fast. She's deaf. And to make matters worse, her hearing aid has disappeared. I have to speak directly into her ear. Slowly, and at quite a volume.

Communication isn't easy. She's sitting with the others in the large, expansive sitting room. The television's on, and the size of the screen is matched by the volume control. The screen is huge and the volume is loud. They're watching some sort of western, puncutated by eruptions of song.

The bustle of the market-place in Athens seems singularly attractive. I'm thinking Paul got the easier deal.

I'm trying to convey the message that this lady needs to hear - Jesus and the resurrection: while blaring away in the background the heroine on the TV screen is singing that she "wouldn't change the love I've found for all of Illinois".

I know next to nothing about Illinois, so I haven't a clue if the lady has got a good deal. All I know is that just at this minute I could wish Illinois, the heroine and the TV screen far enough removed.

It's not exactly helping me in the mouth-to-ear, slow and laboured preaching I'm engaging in. But I persevere. I want to be getting my message across.

Jesus and the resurrection.

Most of the time it's there in these varied 'market-place' environments that we get our chance to be sharing the good news of Jesus.

Not, perhaps, the context that we'd choose. Sunday worship, pulpit preaching, attentive congregations. That would get our vote.

But we don't get the chance to vote on the thing. The Lord sends us out.

Out. Out into the market-place. Out among the people where they are. Out into the local schools. Out into the nursing homes. Out into a noisy, clamouring world. Out to the places where voices from all walks of life are competing for people's attention.

Eugene Peterson has an interesting book called 'The Word made Flesh'. In it he looks, in his own inimitable manner, at the lengthy, ten-chapter 'travel narrative' Luke inserts into his account of Jesus' ministry.

This whole section is prefaced by a note that Jesus and his companions are leaving Galilee (Luke 9.51) and concluded by references to their arriving in Jerusalem (Luke 19.11, 28, 41). It's narrated, therefore, as a journey through Samaria.

"They are away from their familiar Galilean synagogues and their beloved Jerusalem temple," writes Peterson.

And he goes on to suggest that "Samaria is the country between Galilee and Jerusalem in which we spend most of our time between Sundays."

It's a helpful and thought-provoking analogy that he draws.

"What began as a 'Travel Narrative' has devevloped in the telling into a metaphor, a metaphor for the way Jesus uses language between Sundays, between the holy synagogues of Galilee and the holy temple in Jerusalem, places and times in which language about God and his kingdom are expected. ...

"Luke gives us Samaria as a metaphor for the way Jesus uses language with people who have very luttle or maybe no readiness to listen to the revelation of God, and not infrequently are outright hostile. This is the way Jesus uses language when he isn't, as we would say, in church."

How to share the gospel when the TV's going full blast. When Illinois or who knows what in Athens are the things on people's minds.

Most of our lives are lived out there in 'Samaria'. The bit between the Sundays.

Isla's baptism

The glow of yesterday's worship when Isla, my little grand-daughter, was baptised, hung over today.

People told me yesterday that I had a wide smile on my face all day. I wasn't exactly aware of that, but I'll take their word for it. There were reasons for me to be smiling!

What an immense and wonderful privilege it is under God to baptise your own grand-child. Hard to put into words.

I was conscious not least of the unfaltering faithfulness God has displayed down on through the generations of our family life. My mind went back through the generations gone - parents, grand-parents, great-grand-parents - and the faith in the Lord Jesus Christ by which they sought to live, and through which they prayed for their children.

And now here I was, myself a bridge to that past, baptising the child of my son. To hold her in my arms and administer the sign of God's covenant of grace to this lovely little girl, and to join with the whole assembled people in the presence of almighty God and pray with them God's blessing on her life ... well, that's a privilege, indeed, beyond all words.

And Isla was so good! Awake, alert, and her customary contented self. Taking the whole thing in, attending to my every word (or so it seemed - but I'm, of course, quite biased!), and displaying in her infant's frame the very peace of God.

How she survived the whole day, I really don't know. But she was great, all day.

All sorts of different people. All sorts of different venues. All sorts of different acoustics. Her routine quite thrown by our changing the clocks. A gown she'd never worn before (the one, most appropriately, in which her lovely, faith-filled mother herself was long ago baptised). Water on her head when it was nothing like her bath-time. And not the chance to take her usual nap.

The girl was a star! Mind you, in her grandpa's eyes she always is.

But there's more to it than just a grandpa's biased point of view. God's blessing rests upon this little girl.

Those are not just empty words: God's blessing on a person's life is something that is fraught with huge significance.

It brings to a person the knowledge of his presence, the experience of his peace. It imparts to a person a fulness and fun in her life. It bestows on a person a life-enriching, life-generating capacity which makes that person fruitful in the fullest sense.

It makes the person herself become a blessing to the world in which she lives.

8 marks of a healthy church

The church in Antioch provides a challenging insight into what it is that makes a congregation truly vibrant.

We've spent the last couple of Sunday evenings catching a feel for the life of that church as we've looked at Acts 12.25-13.12.

I've been arguing that these verses give us what I've called the "8 marks of a healthy church".

The idea is not altogether original. There's a church in America called simply 9Marks. This is how they introduce themselves -

"We believe the local church is the focal point of God's plan for displaying his glory to the nations. Our vision is simple: churches that reflect the character of God. Our mission is to cultivate and encourage churches characterized by these nine marks."

I love that starting point. "We believe the local church is the focal point of God's plan for displaying his glory to the nations."

Every fibre in my being says a hearty 'Amen' to that.

They then go on to list the '9 marks' which they believe need to be cultivated in the churches today, before signing off in these terms -

"We are not intending to lay down an exhaustive or authoritative list. There are other significant marks of healthy churches, like prayer and fellowship. We want to pursue those ourselves as well, and we want you to pursue them with us.

"But ..." and this next bit seems so right and important to say:

".. these nine are the ones we think are most neglected in most local churches today, with the most damaging ramifications. Join us in cultivating churches that reflect the character of God."

The local church at Antioch was healthy. And as we looked at the passage in Acts, we began to see why. We have a lot to learn, a lot that we need to be challenged by. And, yes, a lot to encourage us, too.

A number of folk have asked me to give them a reminder of what I said. So here, in brief, are 'the 8 marks of a healthy church'.

1. A healthy church serves the wider church. The folk at Antioch were mindful of the needs of the church down the road (a long way down the road) at Jerusalem. They were not 'independent', simply doing their own thing. They recognised a certain accountability towards, and responsibility for, their brothers and sisters elsewhere.

2. A healthy church develops young people. Barnabas and Saul take young John Mark along with them. Back from Jerusalem, and then out on their first big missionary journey. It's a kind of trainee, intern, apprenticeship sort of thing. And it's not without its problems as theyd shortly find. But they saw this as important, and a significant way to be investing their time and resources.

3. A healthy church values a plurality of leaders. Within a year or so of coming into existence the church at Antioch had a team of leaders ministering the Word of God. Folk from all sorts of different backgrounds, with a range of different gifts. Most of the time it's fraught with tensions and problems. It's not easy. But it's healthy. Definitely healthy.

4. A healthy church fosters 'lively' worship. I put it in inverted commas because I want to avoid any notion that I'm speaking about drums and guitars. 'Lively' worship has nothing to do with the form or the style, nothing to do with the music as such. It has everything to do with the presence and activity of God. He (who is life) pitches up. Things happen. He speaks. He turns people's lives around. That sort of 'lively'.

5. A healthy church honours God's calling. The church at Antioch recognised the reality of a God who calls folk to particular ministries. And they sought to 'buy into' those ministries themselves. They layed hands on those thus called and prayed for them. The call of God was followed by the prayers of his church. They commissioned Barnabas and Saul for the work to which God had called them.

6. A healthy church embraces mission. Barnabas was their senior pastor. Saul was their most able teacher - the guy brought in from Tarsus precisely because of his teaching gifts. And they released these men - their ablest, best communicators - they released these men for the work of mission. Because mission is all about communicating the gospel, articulating the good news. And it needs and calls for the best. Mission was not simply given a nod, it was embraced.

7. A healthy church challenges false teaching. Barnabas and Saul (now designated Paul, using his Roman name now, not least because they're going very clearly into the non-Jewish world) - they confront the false prophet Elymas. They discern error when it's present (and it doesn't come advertised as such, you need to have your wits about you to see it for what it is); and they confront, challenge and repudiate such error in no uncertain terms. Tolerance is out of the question when error comes into the frame.

8. A healthy church prioritises Scripture. They church at Antioch majored on the Scriptures being expounded. Straight, clear, no-frills Bible teaching. That's what Saul had been brought to do. That's how you build good, strong, clear-thinking Christians. And when they went out to a world that knew nothing of God and his gospel, they did pretty much the same. Straight, clear, no-frills Bible teaching. 'Proclaiming the word', teaching 'the right ways of the Lord', declaring 'the faith'. No-nonsense stuff. Expound the Bible. That's how people are brought to faith as well.

As 9Marks say - "we are not intending to lay down an exhaustive or authoritative list. There are other significant marks of healthy churches."

But we do well to address these eight.

The local church is the focal point of God's plan.

And he needs that church to be healthy.

Zimbabwe - 'Invictus' revisited?

This came in from my brother this morning.

It's an open letter from Dave Coltart, Minister of Education, Sport, Art, and Culture in Zimbabwe, which he wrote last week to a New Zealand newspaper after New Zealand decided not to send their cricketers to Zimbabwe

It makes interesting reading, for those concerned about all that's going on in Zimbabwe.

I cannot help but feel that there are unspoken reasons behind the New Zealand Government's decision to discourage the New Zealand cricket team from touring Zimbabwe in June 2010. Prime Minister John Key is reported as stating that the main concern was for "player safety".

But I fear there is more to it than that. I believe in particular there are deep-rooted concerns about ongoing human rights abuses within Zimbabwe, scepticism regarding the transitional agreement and its chances of survival and, perhaps, distaste for the fact that certain personalities are still in office.

If I am correct in this assumption one understands why this has not been stated openly - because New Zealand may then become liable to pay damages to Zimbabwe Cricket.

Be that as it may I believe there are compelling reasons why the tour should go ahead. I write this in the context of being a human rights lawyer who has opposed human rights abuses in Zimbabwe for the last 27 years.

Firstly, those of us in the MDC (Movement for Democratic Change) are ourselves deeply concerned about ongoing human rights abuses and our collective failure as a transitional government to fully implement the transitional agreement.

However, putting it negatively, this agreement is the only viable non-violent option we have.

The agreement has a positive side too. Despite our failure to implement it fully, we have made remarkable progress in the last year. The economy has stabilised. Schools have been reopened. Hospitals and clinics now have drugs and the cholera epidemic of 2008 stopped. There has been a massive downturn in the number of human rights abuses. Importantly maladministration in cricket is being addressed; racism and tribalism in team selection has ended and former doyens of the sport, such as Heath Streak, have been reintegrated.

Secondly, for all the political rhetoric, the fact is that the political agreement is functional and is gradually being implemented in its entirety. Zanu PF has been desperately holding on to whatever power it can and has resisted implementing certain aspects of the agreement. But as demonstrated by the successful visit of President Zuma to Harare this week there is progress and in my view there is little danger of the agreement collapsing in the near future.

Thirdly, and most importantly, our friends in the international community have an obligation to help those of us acting in good faith to make this peaceful process work and sport has a critically important role to play in this regard. Clint Eastwood's recent film Invictus about Nelson Mandela's efforts to use the 1995 Rugby World Cup to forge unity in post-apartheid South Africa is a powerful reminder of the positive role sport can play in assisting countries in transition.

Whilst there are obvious differences between South Africa in the early 1990s and Zimbabwe today, there are many similarities. We are in transition; we too have to forgive those responsible for terrible things done in the last decade; there are still those who will do all in their power to derail the peaceful process. Just as rugby was able to bind a nation together then I believe cricket can play a similar role in Zimbabwe today.

Furthermore when it is the clear wish of former Zimbabwean cricketers such as Heath Streak and Grant Flower, now both national coaches who have also suffered in the last decade, that this tour should go ahead, they too should be listened to.

What I am absolutely convinced of is that by asking the New Zealand team to travel there are substantially less safety and security risks involved than there are in touring the United Kingdom, the subcontinent or indeed South Africa. We do not have any terrorist or al Qaeda threat in Zimbabwe; bombs have not gone off in Harare as they have in London or Mumbai in the last decade. Crime rates in Harare and Bulawayo are far below those in Johannesburg and Cape Town.

In short Zimbabwe is one of the safest places to travel to and the apparent safety concerns of the New Zealand Government are simply misplaced and not based on fact.

I have no doubt that if the New Zealand team decides to honour its obligation to tour Zimbabwe in June they will find they will be welcomed by all with remarkable warmth and friendliness. In the process they will help Zimbabwe cricket in its quest to regain test status, bring much joy to the Zimbabwean cricketing public and greatly help our peaceful transition to democracy in Zimbabwe.

I hope that the New Zealand Government will have the vision and boldness to enable this to happen.

since my youth

One of our older members died a week or so ago.

She was 98 and she'd lasted well - it's only been in these last few years that she's needed extra help. Today there was a 'celebration of her life' along at the crematorium. The tribute was given by the lady's great niece, and the passage from Scripture was read by her great nephew.

I wasn't exactly redundant, but there was less for me to do than sometimes there is. I took the chance, at any rate, to say just a bit, before we prayed, about the person's faith.

I've not really known her the bulk of her life, of course. About a mere fifth of her life, and the latter, frailer part at that. But I knew her enough to know that her life was rooted in faith in Jesus Christ.

Psalm 71 says it all. It's an old person's song and I hope when I'm old (I mean, really old) that this will be the song that I'm singing. At least metaphorically.

Since my youth, O God, you have taught me, and to this day I declare your marvelous deeds.

That was so true of the lady whose life we were joining together to celebrate there in the service today.

She'd had a good grounding in the faith from early days.

She was one of nine (though I think only six had survived into their adult years). It would have been a busy, noisy home, I guess. Her parents were good and honest working folk, who taught their children well. There were books galore in the home and her father made sure that they learned, not simply to read, but to value a literary education and to 'mine' the books they had.

A lot of that pattern's been lost, I fear, in the rush and the short-cuts which life in our world today brings. Fathers, especially, are not always good at giving their children that time. And when mothers as well have to juggle a job as they try to attend to the home - it's this grounding in faith that can often be one of the casualties families know.

This lady today had been taught. Taught in those days of her growing up. Taught in the truths of the Scriptures. Taught by the Lord.

Former generations were a whole load better at this than we are now.

Which is strange. We have so many more resources. So many books and booklets to help us.

And yet ... and yet, we don't seem nearly so good at giving our children this grounding, whereby they know full well the content of the Bible, whereby they know the very substance of the faith, whereby they understand the whole great panorama of the gospel's potent message.

Whereby they are taught by God.

This lady had been well taught, as I say. And right on through to the end of her life she was glad to sing the Lord's praise. To this day I declare your marvelous deeds.

Whenever I'd call on the lady, she'd invariably speak of the way that the Lord had provided and helped through the course of her many years. There was much that she might have griped about, because things had hardly been easy for her. But she chose instead to declare just how good God had been.

Even when I am old and grey, do not forsake me , O God (I think we sometimes fear that may conceivably be the case, that once we lose our usefulness the Lord will lose his interest in ourselves), till I declare your power to the next generation, your might to all who are to come.

That was this lady, right down to the proverbial 'T'. Each year she paid for the Bibles we gave to the children.

Books. She'd been brought up on books herself, remember.

And, specifically, the book.

Passing it on to the next generation of children. Declaring the power of God to those who were to come.

That's the way to live, all right. Getting things clear about God from the start in our lives and passing it on to succeeding generations as the years go by.

That's how I'm wanting to live. I had the massive benefit and privilege of being taught by the Lord from my youth. I'm seeking now each day from the Lord the grace to be passing that on. Declaring to fresh generations the grace and the power of God.

The grace whereby he looked with such great mercy on a wayward guy like me, and drew me up from all the slimy mire of sin's destroying pit, and set my feet upon the rock of Jesus Christ, and opened up a whole new life for me, and poured into my heart and mouth a rich and always resonant new song.

The power whereby he made the world and raised his Son and made me new and set me free and opened up a future which is bright beyond the telling of it all.

That's how I'm wanting to live - however long or short may be the years I still have left.

It seemed rather fitting that after the funeral service I went straight to the school for the SU group.

A whole crowd of children all eager and desperate to learn.

mid-week mid-day services

Let me say a bit about the weekly mid-week service that we hold on a Wednesday lunch-time.

It's a brief(ish) sort of service, a mere half hour or so, and it's held at half past twelve. The day and the time and the length of the thing all suit the folk who come.

Sundays aren't that easy for a lot of folk today. Domestic life has got to be a pretty complicated thing for many folk - which sometimes makes a Sunday more a nightmare than a day of rest. So Wednesday, for some, works better.

And even for those for whom Sunday works fine, Wednesday is a useful sort of 'half-way house'. A lot can happen in the first few days of a week, and the chance for a spiritual 'breather' is a gift they're glad to take. Pausing mid-week to get your bearings again.

For a number of older folk as well a 12.30 start is about as good as it gets. The 10.30 start on a Sunday morning is way too early - they're simply not up and able to get on the go by then: and a 6.30 start (the time of our Sunday evening worship) is getting too late. A 12.30 start is ideal!

And the fact that it's only a short half hour is also a thing in its favour. For some that's about as much as their bodies can take.

So the thing works well for a sizeable sort of constituency now. We have maybe 30 or 40 (on a good day) along. Not many, perhaps, in the great grand scheme of things. But more than enough to make it worthwhile.

There's a lunch in the hall as well for them always afterwards. That's part of the package. Part of their worship as well. Meeting and eating and greeting each other. Catching up with each other and sharing the culture of faith.

Many live mainly alone. This is a weekly reminder of what God's in store for his people. The life of heaven. Together.

Getting them there is a part of the package as well. We hire a local mini-bus and pick them up - and take them back later on. I guess for a number the trip round the town as the bus picks folk up is a bit of a highlight each week.

The journey together in its own little way is a part of the worship as well. It's a version of a 'pilgrim' way of life. A people following Jesus, travelling down the path of faith together.

It costs, of course. I hadn't quite realised just how much it costs until the 'Annual Congregational Meeting' we held tonight. We pay about £1,500 a year to lease the bus each week.

We see it as a good and right investment of resources. Ministry always costs.

It costs in terms of time as well. The folk involved in ensuring the tables are set, the food is prepared, the people are welcomed and served - it costs all these folk their time and not a little energy.

That's part of their worship, too. That giving of ourselves in countless ways - each one an act of worship to the Lord who gave his all.

I don't always lead the lunch-time service myself. We have other very able people here and I try and make some use of them as well.

Today it was Douglas, the rector at the Scottish Episcopal Church at the other end of the street. He has a rich and resonant voice, and an easy, rather conversational sort of style.

His love for the Lord shines through as he speaks and his teachable spirit is always in evidence, too. He revels in the Scriptures and makes it his business to study and teach the Scriptures in his own church day by day. A good man. And he loves being here and sharing in this worship on a Wednesday.

He's not, by any means, the only one who does so. I've any number of folk on whom I can regularly call.

I want to give them that context to use their teaching gift. They're able folk whose leading of worship is reverent, warm and enriching.

I suspect more and more in the days ahead, both here and throughout the land, there will be a great need for the ministry folk like this have. I want to equip them, to afford them the chance to have worked on their gifts and be more and more able to lead folk in worship and teach what the Scriptures declare.

These Wednesday lunch-time services have a role to play for them. They're a sort of 'training ground' in many ways on which they hone their skills.

And, of course, it isn't just a help to me to have them take the lead in this: it's a ministry to me as well.

So these Wednesday lunch-time services are suggestive of a much more rich and 'fluid' sort of pattern that our life in coming days may well involve.

And closer, too, to how it's meant to be.

saying 'No'

All sorts of different issues arise in the course of a day.

'Pastoral' issues, in the broadest sense. All of them needing addressed.

Some are to do with arrangements that have to be made in connection with upcoming services. Not just the coming worship we'll be sharing in this fast-approaching Sunday (though that needs attention for sure). Nor just the service here tomorrow over lunch-time (that also requires some attention - not least my reminding the person who's leading tomorrow that that's what he's scheduled to do!). But a service of thanksgiving for a person who has died.

Then there are phone calls I need to make, arranging to meet different folk, and tieing up one or two loose ends.

And folk that come in with a problem we have to work through. A problem to do with the way that we handle an awkward situation. How to be firm with a person without causing needless offence.

It's a problem to do with how we best say simply 'No!'

A long time ago I was at a two-day conference arranged for Christian ministers on the theme of 'time management'. These were the days before that was really in vogue.

The guy who was leading the course - a business-oriented guy, who nonetheless was well aware that it was ministers he was teaching - he was underlining just how important it is in the management of time to be ruthlessly firm and insistent in not taking on far too much.

One of the ministers present then raised his hand. That's all right for you to say and do, out there in your business world. But we're Christians, he said, and Christian ministers at that: we're meant to be nice and full of grace - so how can we say 'No'?

Learn to say 'No' graciously then, he said.

Which seemed pretty wise (as well as fairly obvious!) at the time. It's a grace we need to learn. We assume too often that 'grace' means always saying 'Yes'.

Like the TSB (as was) we like to say 'Yes'. But it's not always helpful or wise so to do. We need to learn the grace of saying 'No'.

I think it's Bill Hybels (of Willowcreek fame) who writes somewhere of a notice which says very simply - which part of the word 'No' do you not understand?

People can be quite persistent and pushy at times.

Jesus wasn't at everyone's beck and call. He didn't always jump to every request.

Grace doesn't mean we always oblige. It means learning to say 'No' graciously.

Learning to say 'No'. Graciously.

I live with that tension each day. To give time to this means I have to say 'No' to that. The challenge is always in seeing just what 'this' is each day. And then saying 'No' to 'that'.

It's a tension we all of us live with. And that's why this awkward situation had arisen. The person, being a person who has sought to follow Jesus - this person likes to say 'Yes', to oblige, to help out.

But there's no way that can happen. And the problem we have is essentially two-fold.

First, we're always anxious that we do not cause offence. And we're all too aware just how easily others can take offence.

We need to be clear that once we have given our 'No' in a gracious and courteous way - in a very real sense such 'offence' is then not our problem at all. It's an issue the person 'offended' will have to work through with the Lord. We must learn to dispose of the burden of 'guilt' that we sometimes continue to bear when a person has taken offence like that. It isn't our problem at all.

But there's another real problem we encounter in actually saying 'No'. We can think that we're letting God down.

What sort of Christian are you, if you won't help out? That sort of thing.

Don't let yourself be blackmailed by that sort of thing. You are not in yourself the answer to all the world's problems and all of the needs people have. Don't start to think that you are.

Saying 'No', when the Lord makes it clear that it's not a thing he's calling you to do, is not ever letting him down. It's simply being obedient. It's simply walking humbly with the Lord and being open and honest enough to acknowledge you can't do it all.

There are limits to what you can do. There are limits to what you can give. Unlike the Lord, we're very finite creatures.

A long time ago I learned how important it is in putting requests to a person, to make it always as easy as I can for them to say 'No'. The only pressure I'm wanting the person to know is the pressure of God's Holy Spirit. Burdening that person's heart , himself.

He makes a far better job of that than we can ever do. Leave that sort of 'pressure' to him.

I guess if we all learned to live like this, intent on making it easy for people we're requesting something from to say simply 'No': and secure enough in the grace of our relationship with Christ, ourselves to say 'No' graciously - then an awful lot of problems would be gone.

But meanwhile, there'll be issues of this sort that I'll be helpng folk to handle day by day.

decision-making

A(nother) rather hectic day.

But a day full of the Lord's kind providences. His quiet, unobtrusive way of letting us know that his eye is always on us, and that he will prosper and provide for us in his service.

There were folk to be seeing in Glasgow today. It's not quite reached the stage of my saying - If it's Monday I'm in Glasgow - but it's beginning to feel a bit like that!

Normally I'd travel by train. Today, though, I'd decided (I wasn't entirely sure why) to go through by car.

Which was just as well. I'd not long set off before a call came through on my phone. I stopped at the side of the road to answer the call. (I thought I'd add that to let you know I'm a good, law-abiding citizen!).

My son. With a rather pressing problem. Was there any way at all that I could get the car through to him in Glasgow for him to transport some things back to Edinburgh? A deadline had out of the blue, and out of his control, been brought forward - he needed to have the things through in Edinburgh before the end of the afternoon.

A kind providence of God. If I'd chosen to travel by train as I usually do, we'd have been completely stuck! The Lord, though, knows these things in advance. It worked out well.

He got the bus from where he was and got himself to Glasgow: I told him where the car was parked: he called me when he got there: I came out of the meeting to give him the key: he got his stuff through to where it needed to be in time.

And was able to pick me up at the station when I got back through myself by train to Edinburgh later on.

Lesson. The Lord knows what he's doing and anticipates the problems that we have.

We all of us need to remember that, and rest in the grace of that truth.

Because we don't, and can't, know what lies up ahead, we have to trust the Lord for that.

And because he does know what lies up ahead, he sovereignly over-rules in all our circumstances to prepare us for that future. Even though in the present it doesn't always seem to make a lot of sense.

Why did I take the car today? I'm not really sure. Humanly speaking, I mean. I'd have been pushed to give you a reason. It just seemed somehow to make a bit more sense. It seemed the right thing to do.

It's like that, too, on the broader canvas. That was the sort of thing we were all discussing in that meeting through in Glasgow today. Thinking towards the future - and struggling to discern just what it is we should be doing.

We rest in the quiet confidence that the Lord is always ahead of the game and leading us on to where he means us to be. Sometimes all we can do is prayerfully think the matter through and conclude - "It seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us."

The Lord is smart enough, kind enough, and strong enough to step in and stop us if what we've planned is way off beam and is going to be a disaster. We learn to do what 'seems good to the Holy Spirit and to us'.

That's one of the greatest benefits, of course, of us meeting together like that. We have the chance to do the talking and thinking together. In the presence of God. Tossing things round in our minds, with him, and teasing things out.

We need to be doing a lot of that these days.

But the bottom line is one that we all need to learn. We can trust the Lord to go before us.

When I'd looked at my diary again, I'd begun to think I was daft to have said I'd be in so many different places today at different times.

I had to be back from Glasgow in time for our Boys Brigade Parents' Night. It's important for me to be there, since I'm the company chaplain. But I began to think - I'm not going to make it in time.

Well, like I said, we can trust the Lord to go before us. The way it worked out was great. My son was there at the station to meet me off the train. I got some time with him. I was down in time for the Boys Brigade night.

And the Boys Brigade evening was finished in time for me then to host a meeting with some of the elders here that I'd planned some months ago.

The margins were tight! But the Lord has an accurate watch. He's perfect in his timings.

"In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight." The guy who came up with these Proverbs knew his stuff all right.

I'm reminded tonight of something that Kevin DeYoung wrote in his book called simply 'Just Do Something'. It's not a long book at all. It's full of his customary wit and his very level-headed, gracious common sense.

He writes -

"The way of wisdom means three things: searching the Scriptures, seeking wise counsel, and praying to God."

He speaks a bit about prayer and what we should be praying for, and then goes on -

"... after you've prayed and studied and sought advice, make a decision and don't hyper-spiritualise it. Do what seems best. Sometimes you won't have to pray and read and seek counsel for a month. That's why the way of wisdom is about more than getting a decisive word about one or two big decisions in life. The way of wisdom is a way of life. And when it's a way of life, you are freer than you realise. If you are drinking deeply of godliness in the Word and from others and in your prayer life, then you'll probably make God-honouring decisions. In fact, if you are a person of prayer, full of regular good counsel from others, and steeped in the truth of the Word, you should begin to make many important decisions instinctively, and some of them even quickly. For most Christians, agonising over decisions is the only sure thing we know to do, the only thing that feels safe and truly spiritual. But sometimes, often-times actually, it's okay just to decide."

He ends the book with a rather startling, very liberating statement of the way it is.

"So the end of the matter is this: Live for God. Obey the Scriptures. Think of others before yourself. Be holy. Love Jesus. And as you do these things, do whatever else you like, with whomever you like, wherever you like, and you'll be walking in the will of God."

In other words, don't let's get too hung up on the business of making decisions.

Seek God. Be sensitive to God's Holy Spirit - through his Word, through his people. And then simply trust God.

And remember, "sometimes, often-times actually, it's okay just to decide."

changing Scotland

Where were you?

If I was asked that once as I passed through the lunch hall at school today, I must have been asked it at least twenty times!

To get to the classroom where we hold the SU meeting, I have to pass through the lunch hall. And, therefore, as well, through all the teeming mass of girls and boys who are having their lunch.

And I hadn't been at the assembly they'd had this morning. They wanted to know just why. Every single one of them. One after the other.

Where were you?

Well, it's nice to be missed. That's for sure. And I do miss the thing myself when I can't get along on a Thursday.

But after a while I figured I might have done better if I'd brought along a tape recorded message, narrating my movements through the morning. Explaining just why I hadn't been there.

I mean, after a while I started to feel really guilty, as if somehow I'd reneged on some binding agreement, as if I'd desperately let them down. AWOL sort of thing.

Where were you?

Well you're probably wondering the same!

I was away in another city this morning, seeing a couple of folk.

It's been a week of considerable travel for a guy like me who rarely leaves his locality. Crieff and Glasgow on Monday, and off again today.

But it's really just indicative of the extent to which both I myself, and the church of which I'm a part (I mean the local congregation), are bound to the wider church.

On Sunday night coming I'll be hoping to show from the Scriptures the marks of a healthy church: and one of those marks (the first, in fact) is the way such congregations are committed to the welfare of the wider church.

That's what this morning reflected. Time being spent with a couple of men who share a similar passion for the cause of Jesus Christ.

There are all sorts of issues with which we're having to deal these days. All sorts of issues confronting the church of Christ in our land. And simply bashing boldly on in each of our small corners is not going to be enough.

Contending for Christ takes place in a broader arena. We're in this together, and it's only as we recognise and give some real expression to that fact, that progress will be made.

That's what this morning was all about. A useful, profitable time. Deep-rooted, genuine fellowship in the gospel. Iron sharpening iron.

That's where I was this morning.

And on the back of that, later on today, there was much for me to write.

There's a larger, and far-flung, constituency, a whole group of folk who are looking for help, looking for guidance, looking for that which will help them with what we all face. I needed to get something written for them.

The cause of Christ's gospel is bigger by far than anything anyone does in their own little corners.

Where were you?

I was out helpng to change the face of Scotland.

question time

It's OK to have questions!

All of us have them, and it's good that we do. It's part of the way that we learn.

Children certainly have them - and are generally not too afraid to ask them. As I discovered again today.

This morning I was in at the school for an hour with all of the pupils of Primary 6. They've been doing the Easter story as part of their RME curriculum: and their teachers, I think, maybe figured that I could help out.

I haven't seen the material being used by the school, but I get the impression it's simply a fairly 'neutral' sort of statement of the facts.

Jesus going into Jerusalem on the Sunday. Some of the things that he did while there. The meal that he had with his friends on the Thursday night. His arrest and trial. And then his being put to death on the Friday.

I think there's maybe a sentence or so at the end which touches on what happened on the Sunday, but not having seen the thing myself I can't be sure. I asked the teachers why none of the children had asked me really anything about the resurrection - and they had replied that the powerpoint presentation which they used didn't have much along those lines at all.

Which seems (in some ways) a bit odd. An 'Easter' presentation which ... well, misses out Easter itself!

Of course, the bare facts are not themselves the gospel. A good man dies a cruel death. That's the thing reduced to its summary form in terms of the basic narrative.

What happened is only the starting point. It's what the whole thing meant that makes it truly 'gospel'. But you need to know what happened, so it was good that the children had all had the chance to get the narrative clear. Or reasonably clear.

My time evolved fairly quickly into a question and answer session. Good questions they asked. Questions which showed they'd been thinking the whole thing through a bit. Questions which showed they'd been trying to feel their way themselves right into the story. And some of them, too, fairly 'leading' sort of questions.

It's a hazardous thing, of course, exposing yourself to the questions which children have! You never quite know just what they'll be asking you next!

But the time was a fruitful time, all right, and we got to grips with some pretty basic issues as to what was going on.

One of the children asked, for instance - "Why didn't Jesus save himself?"

It took us right to the heart of what the cross is about. Forgiveness. His dying in our place.

Or, again - "If Jesus knew that this was what he was meant to do, and knew he was going to heaven, why did he feel so abandoned?"

On the button again. Remember, these are still just P6 girls and boys. Really good questions they're asking.

So I spoke a bit about Psalm 22 and Jesus deliberately quoting the psalm: I spoke a bit about just what that terrible God-forsakenness meant and why he was having to bear it.

And before I knew it the hour was past, break-time was here, and the questioning had to stop. As the teacher said in closing - we could have been here all day!

I stopped by with the teachers for coffee before going back. It's good to catch up with them a bit as well. I think they found it a helpful, instructive session for themselves as well as the children. They, too, are always learning. And I'm glad to go in and help.

At night it was more of the same. Except not this time with the children along at the school.

This time with a group of folk, who also had their questions. I never quite know just what their questions will be. Which makes it quite exciting!

But, again, I'm having to say to them - It's OK to have questions!

The questions all serve to tease out the truth, to make the truth clear, to help people see how the whole thing holds together.

And bit by bit they're slowly getting the picture!

It's thrilling to see how the Lord is at work and draws people out towards Jesus. Absolutely thrilling.

the Person behind the person

We had two and a half hours with the Primary 7s this morning, working through what Easter's all about.

They're an amazing group of children. Good fun, well-behaved, pleasant, polite and always so ready to learn. It's an absolute pleasure to work through the Easter presentation with a group like that.

Not that I think it's meant to go on quite that long. It's a Scripture Union highly inter-active sort of presentation, and it's meant to be maybe an hour and a half at most. But the teachers were far from complaining - and the pupils coped just fine.

What a privilege again to work through the last week of Jesus' earthly life - and to see the effect that it has. They listened with rapt attention when we got to the bit about the crucifixion. it's a powerful, compelling narrative. And the chance to run through the whole thing at length with them all is, as I say, a great and wonderful privilege.

We have a brilliant team of leaders here as well. There were seven or eight besides myself involved, and they all of them bring their different gifts and they're all of them just so good with the children too.

And then, of course, there's the kitchen staff too, finding time in the midst of serving the folk who come in for their teas and their coffees each day, to provide all the children with gallons of juice and whole trayfuls of biscuits as well.

They're busy folk, all of the folk who've been helping today, with all sorts of things they're involved in most days of their lives - and it's just great the way they put themselves out and give of their time like this, so that together we're able to share the good news of Jesus with the growing generation in our midst.

Mornings like this I'm aware how important it is that the message which anyone hears is always truly complemented, too, by what that person is experiencing. The 'feel' of the whole thing being real: that sense of authenticity, as they catch the whiff of Jesus in the way his people are.

That's why, always, relationships are crucial. That's why we work at them so much.

It's not just at the level of the mind that truth takes root, though that is plainly pivotal. We know things through a far more complex spectrum of antennae than the intellect itself can ever give.

And therefore if we're ever going to get across the message of the gospel to this growing generation it must be, of course, through God's own Holy Spirit's mighty power: but it must also be through something far more comprehensive than a merely intellectual sort of way.

There's intellectual content - sure. But it's a Person we are commending. And that Person is mostly revealed by the Lord in the personal realm of relationship, welcome and love.

That's partly why I'm in at the school so much. A lot of the time there's not all that much that I'm giving which has any intellectual content. I'm just there. In person.

These children today have grown up with my being there among them at school. They know me for the person that I am. And on days like this, it's our prayer that they catch just a glimpse of the Person behind the person they've always been seeing.

That's got to be true for us all, in all of our walks of life.