open doors

We had folk in here today who got really fired up by what they saw.

Two entirely separate visits, by folk from two entirely different congregations, arranged entirely independently by two of us here. But both about exactly the same thing. Like the Lord was trying to make a point.

They wanted to see how we went about using our premises here. Because they see the possibilities of where they are themselves and they're not really wanting to re-invent the wheel.

A couple from out at Kirkliston were in for a good long time this morning. I hadn't made the arrangement at all, but since these good folk were from out at Kirkliston I was glad to be in on the chat.

I've a soft spot for the place, having been involved with the folk out there for a year.

I remember the first time I went there, not really knowing quite what to expect.

I was struck from the start by a sense of the presence of God. A sense that this was a place that was pulsing with things that the Lord was about to begin. A bit like a massive volcano was just about to erupt.

It had the feel of a place that was ready for harvest. It seemed like the Lord had been quietly moving troops in on the ground. Under the radar sort of thing. Bringing folk in bit by bit and getting folk ready for what he was planning to do.

Two years down the line from when I first was there that's now quite plainly what was happening.

Debbie and Anne who were here today are part of a newly formed fellowship out at Kirkliston. Bellevue West Community Church - a 'plant' by Bellevue Chapel.

The Lord has provided a place for them. Right in the centre of the village. Great premises, which they've spent a bit of time and money doing up.

If I heard them correctly, they had a kind of 'open week' not long ago, and I think there were maybe some 700 folk passed through their doors. A 'green light' from the Lord. Go for it!

It was great to have time to chat with them both today and I think they found it helpful. Sometimes the sheer bureaucracy involved in running a place like this can get folk down. The rules which have to be kept. The forms all needing completed. The books which have to be read. The books which have to be kept.

It can all start to feel like miry clay. But Debbie and Anne were all fired up by the time they left. And so were we.

Because we, like them, are thinking these issues through ourselves. We see what wonderful premises God has given us here.

And we want to see them used each day in a way that furthers his kingdom and makes him known.

We want them used in a way that makes it clear that this is 'holy ground' because the Lord is present in power.

We want them to be a place where good things happen, where God is at work, and people can come to know Jesus.

Iron sharpens iron. And fire communicates fire. We were all fired up by the time the two of them left.

The fire had hardly abated when Leanne came along for her lunch. I'd arranged with her that I'd meet her for lunch once I'd been to the SU group along at the school.

A bit of a late lunch, true, but it meant she was able to share her lunch with the rest of the team and not just simply with me.

Leanne is the 'Centre Manager' up town at Carrubbers Christian Centre.

They have pretty spacious premises as well - although they're much more up and down instead of (like us) being spread across extensive grounds. Leanne used to manage the cafe up there, but now, as I say, she's become the Centre Manager.

We understand the distinction. Running our own 'Reception Area', where teas and coffees and lunches are served three days a week, is one thing; a fairly major task in itself. But making the most of the premises we have is another, much bigger thing. We're keen to do both well.

Leanne was out here to learn from us. But we were keen to be learning from her as well.

We're at a stage where we're sensing God saying it's time to move things forward. We're aware that the Lord, having given us all of these premises, is intent on our using them more to further his purposes here.

We spent a lot of time last year discerning just what his priorities are for us here. Now it's time to translate them into practice. And to see how best our premises can be used to bring them all to pass.

It's good to know that you're not alone in what you're doing.

That's what one of them said today. By bringing these folk among us here today, from two different parts of the city (a village on the outskirts of the city and a city centre fellowship), it was like the Lord was assuring us all that this sort of burden, to share the good news of Jesus in these ways, was laid on our hearts by himself.

The Lord is surely opening doors right across the city!

hillside

Sooner or later we die.

I have no desire to be morbid or maudlin in reminding us all of that. I'm simply stating the inescapable fact of the matter.

By and large we don't like it. We don't take kindly to dying. So most of the time we won't even give it a thought. We hope that by putting it out of our minds we're putting it out of sight. Way beyond the horizon.

But of course it doesn't ever work like that. Sooner or later we die.

The gospel is geared to that. And most of the time in ministering God's Word, the preacher and pastor is either picking up the pieces in the aftermath of death, or building up believers in anticipation of such death.

My first great task is with God's saints: enabling believers not simply to live well but also, more importantly, to die well.

And alongside that, I'm called to go and share with those who've often had but little in the way of any real exposure to the Word of God before bereavement comes, and help them in the anguish of their grief and in the face of death to mourn their loved one well.

I was round seeing a family in mourning today.

It must be over twenty years since first I visited this home. It had been a bereavement then as well - the lady who'd died was a hundred and one when she'd died: and now it was her son-in-law, a man well up in his eighties.

Sooner or later it comes to us all.

In chatting with his widow, herself now twice bereaved, we got to talking about her husband's roots across in Fife. His father (or it might have been his grand-father) had been born in a small little place called Hillside. She smiled when she said that it always looked odd on the forms that you had to fill in -

Place of birth: Hillside.

I smiled, too.

I was thinking of how we are all of us born, perhaps not quite there on the hillside, but certainly down in the valley: what the psalmist describes as the valley of the shadow of death.

We're born there. We live there. And always, each day of our lives, the shadow of death is there.

This lady, like most folk I meet, had largely neglected that shadow. Married for close on sixty years, it came as a shock when her husband died. She hadn't ever really thought it through. She somehow thought it simply wouldn't happen to herself.

She's not, as I say, unusual in that.

When it's not just the shadow, but death itself, which comes barging through the door of a person's life, I'm wanting to give them a sense of the presence of God. A sense that the Lord is at hand, ready and eager to take us into his arms and embrace us to himself in the face of this terrible sorrow.

I'm wanting to give them a sense there's a God who cares. I'm wanting to introduce lost sheep to the loving shepherd.

Sometimes I only get that opportunity when the shadow's become the reality and a person experiences bereavement. But mainly I'm keen to be getting folk ready before that moment comes.

Getting sheep acquainted with the shepherd in good time.

There's a family I'm seeing where the shadow is looming quite large. Death is not much farther down the road. The elderly mother is ill. Seriously so.

For the woman herself, for her family, too, I'm wanting to give them that sense of the presence of God.

So that they're able to travel this path through the valley with him. So that the woman herself may die well. So that her family may tread the rocky path of bereavement well and be able at last to grieve well too.

As well as being my 'place of birth', Hillside is my place of work. The realm of the Shepherd King.

gospel and law

It's strange how sometimes the preparation that I'm doing and the conversations that I'm having prove to be almost exactly concentric.

It happened again today. And it had to do with the place of 'keeping the law' in the life of the Christian.

There's a subtle, but hugely significant, difference between our 'keeping the law' being understood as the condition of our salvation and its being understood as the consequence of our salvation.

The 'Law' was given to a people already saved.

The people of Israel had already been delivered from the cruel slavery of Egypt by the merciful hand of God. That was grace. They could not help themselves. God did it all.

He insists that that's the case. I saw .. I heard .. I came .. I rescued.

God did it all. It's pretty emphatic. Salvation - getting a people out of the hopeless condition they're in - is a gift of grace, not a reward for goodness. Not because this people had notched up a whole load of brownie points by dutifully keeping the Law: but simply because God chose in his love to save.

The 'Law' came later. The 'Law' was given to a people already saved.

Because they were saved from slavery into something, into significance: they had a role to play, a ministry to fulfil, a calling to pursue, as the people of God who would be by their life together a light for the nations.

They would be set down by God, a saved people, right in the middle of planet earth. Centre stage. There for all the world to see.

This is how life's to be lived, God meant to declare to the watching world. Israel had a job to do for God: not unlike our own. They were called to proclaim good news.

A new life. Life lived by the grace of God, with the presence of God, in the power of God, and for the glory of God.

What does that life look like? Well, he gave them the 'Law'. That's what it looks like, he said.

So keeping the 'Law' is emphatically not the condition of salvation.

But that simple fact doesn't ever mean that the 'Law' becomes irrelevant. Far from it. The 'Law' provides the tracks on which our new life's to be lived. The 'Law' is what a saved life looks like.

The 'Law' as such is the consequence of salvation.

The imperatives follow the indicatives, as I was always taught.

Discipleship follows salvation.

To expound and lay stress on the lordship of our saviour Jesus Christ - as I seek to do - and to summon folk on to the radical life of dsicipleship - as I seek to do - carries with it, unless I'm very careful, the constant danger that the wrong sort of signals are heard.

In other words, what I'm preaching and commending as the consequence of salvation can be easily heard as the ('condemning') condition of salvation.

And I fear that's what may often have happened here. It's a delicate, as well as a difficult, balance to hold.

I came across something very similar in the review I was reading this morning of a book to be published soon. The reviewer was very appreciative of much that had been written in the book, but he had a number of concerns at the way things came across.

This is what he wrote as he rounded off the concerns which he felt -

Fifth and finally, we must do more to plant the plea for sacrificial living more solidly in the soil of gospel grace. Several times [the author] talks about the love of Christ as our motivation for radical discipleship or the power of God and the means for radical discipleship. But I didn’t sense the strong call to obedience was slowly marinated in God’s lavish mercy. I wanted to see sanctification more clearly flowing out of justification.

Now I don’t believe that every command we ever give must include a drawn explanation of the gospel. But in a book-length treatment of such an important topic I would have liked to have seen “all we need to do in obedience to God” growing more manifestly out of “all God’s done for us.”

At times the discipleship model came across as: “Here’s how we need to live. Here’s how we are falling short. Here’s how Christ can help us live the way we ought.” The gospel looks more like a means to obey the law, instead of resting in the gospel as respite from the law.

Further, I wish there was more of an emphasis on what we do when we fall short of radical obedience. How do we get balm for our stricken consciences? Where do we find rest for our sin-sick souls? Just as importantly, I would hope that as [the author] speaks in risky ways in order to challenge us all to shake off nominal Christianity, he would also on occasion speak in such a risky way that he’s charged with antinomianism (Rom.6.1)

.

On the whole, I think the motivation for obedience in [his book] would have been more biblical and more balanced if it landed more squarely on the greatness of God’s love for us as opposed to the nature of the world’s great need and our great failures.

"The gospel looks more like a means to obey the law, instead of resting in the gospel as respite from the law."

Is the gospel, as it's heard by those to whom I preach - is the gospel little more than a means to obey the law, or actually a thorough-going respite from the law?

I'm very much exercised over this whole issue, I have to say, in relation to how I preach and proclaim the gospel and how I pastor God's people. Think back to what the reviewer wrote -

I would hope that as [the author] speaks in risky ways in order to challenge us all to shake off nominal Christianity, he would also on occasion speak in such a risky way that he’s charged with antinomianism.

I'm very aware that I do deliberately speak "in risky ways in order to challenge us all to shake off nominal Christianity:" and that's fine and good, and necessary, too, so far as it goes.

But do I "also on occasion speak in such a risky way that [I'm] charged with antinomianism"? I'm not so sure about that.

And if I don't, I've probably not got the balance quite right.

It's a tight-rope! Those of you who pray for your preachers and pastors, pray hard we get this balance right.

changing a nation

Can a nation be changed? Can a nation be saved? Can a nation be turned back to God?

We sometimes sing the words of this song. The first verse asks the questions. The second verse turns the questions into a prayer.

And in between there's the chorus which sees us on our knees.

That's the only way that such change can ever happen.

It weighs like a huge big burden on my heart. I feel it like a great ache upon my soul. It occupied a lot of the time that I spent with folk today. Troubled and burdened about our land and the extent of the creeping malaise which hangs like a darkening cloud across our nation's life.

Where do you start to address it? How do you turn such a tide?

We had our monthly evening of prayer as a congregation here tonight.

There are loads of folk who pray within the congregation. And there are loads of folk who in one way or another are regularly praying with others. And all of that is great.

But we recognised a while ago that alongside that there's a need to ensure there are times when we gather together, as a congregation, and join in prayer for the work of God's hand - both here and far afield.

Our time of prayer tonight was exhilerating. I can't think of another way of putting it. It was just a pity there weren't more there to share in it all!

Here was the answer to the questions that lie on our hearts. Can a nation be changed?

Once a people get down on their knees, anything can happen. Prayer like that lets the Lord come graciously in.

Paul James-Griffiths from the Edinburgh City Mission had a couple of slots through the evening to share a bit of the work that he's involved in.

We have a long-standing, close association with the ECM. We were reminded at the outset tonight of the 'tag-line' of the ECM, the simple 'mission statement' which the founder had come up with (before 'mission statements' were really invented).

"May the glory of God and the salvation of souls be our chief and only object."

There's a lot of good things that the ECM are involved in. But they're keen to get back to basics. Back to the core of what they're all about. 'The glory of God and the salvation of souls.'

I think that found an echo in our hearts. We share that same concern.

And what does that look like for the likes of Paul James-Griffiths? Well, here are a few little cameos to which he alluded tonight.

His work at the university through the course of the year. Day by day, week by week, stationed up there at the university serving hot drinks. Students are drawn to such freebies, like wasps to jam.

They start asking questions - why are you doing all this?

And the questions provide the platform for a conversation to begin which rolls right into his sharing the good news of Jesus with all of these folk. And some are converted. Their lives changed, transformed. For ever.

Then there's what's called the 'Celtic Tour'. Paul is dressed as a monk, and runs these tours down the Royal Mile, to give a kind of hitch-hiker's guide to Scotland's history and her Celtic, Christian roots. It's open-air. It's free. It draws a crowd.

He stands outside St Giles Cathedral, tells the crowds about John Knox. And then he tells them - this is the sort of thing that John Knox preached from here. And he simply runs through the gospel. A short and ever-so-easy-to-understand proclamation of the good news of Jesus.

Paul's also involved in the Christian Heritage Centre. This is located at present in St Columba's Free Church. If you know Edinburgh, then it's up by the castle where Johnston Terrace meets the Royal Mile.

The Christian Heritage Centre is a sort of past meets present sort of thing. The story of Scotland is so much caught up with the Christian gospel that it can't really be told without telling the gospel too.

They had some students last year who asked if they might sing outside the Centre. They were studying Divinity at New College, and having sussed it all out Paul agreed that they should sing.

The day they chose just happened to be the day that the police had closed Johnston Terrace at the castle end - for some bizarre reason which needn't concern you at all! As a result the whole busy area around the entrance to the centre became a massive pedestrian precinct and thousands were there to hear these folk sing - and then, once the singing was done, to hear the gospel being proclaimed by Paul again.

The Lord closes both doors and streets when it suits his purposes! And he opens doors, too, in wonderful ways, for the gospel to be proclaimed.

They've wanted to expand this work at the Centre a bit. There was a cost involved. They needed over £5,000, with an initial deposit of £2,700 before anything even got started.

They went ahead in faith. They were clear in their hearts that this was the call of the Lord. The day on which the deposit was due, what happens? A cheque comes in for £2,000. Then another cheque, too. For £500. Then a further cheque - for £200.

The Lord is good at his sums, and his diary's up to date!

ECM have also these last few years been keen to confront the increasingly rampant paganism that Edinburgh hosts. The Beltane festival is one such pagan festival, where thousands now annually gather.

Paul and his team went along. The Lord made it clear they were to set up their stall by the toilets.

The toilets? Yes, they asked the same question - with the same sort of disbelief. Do you really mean the toilets, Lord?

He did.

So they set up their table with all of their stuff, right beside the toilets. As the evening wore on they saw just why the Lord had placed them there. The only set of spotlights in all the place were located beside the toilets. And once the darkness fell, they were bathed in light. The only place, and the only people, to be bathed in light like that.

And, of course, the crowds of people all queuing to go to the toilet had to wait right by their table. A captive audience! Light shining in the darkness! And people again discovered true freedom in Christ.

There was masses more Paul was on about. But that gives a bit of a feel for the work that he does.

The glory of God. The salvation of souls. May these be our chief, and only, object.

To which I say Amen.

We all were saying Amen last night! What a privilege to share in such work. What a thrill to see God so at work.

No wonder so many are glad to be getting involved. I was struck and challenged by that again.

We struggle at present with finding the folk to help us in all that we're doing. I was reminded tonight of two important truths in this regard.

First, pray. ECM prayed earnestly for volunteers. The volunteers emerged.

But then, too, give folk vision. Let people see what it is that the Lord is doing. Help people see what it is that you're doing, why it matters so much, and how it can all be a part of changing a nation and seeing that nation being turned once again back to God.

ECM very deliberately got back to their 'core values', to what they're really about. We're trying to do that too.

The glory of God. The salvation of souls. These shall be our chief and only object.

all at sea

There's a lot of walking back and forward to the school on a Thursday. Two assemblies in the course of the first part of the morning: and then the SU group over lunch.

I have to walk through the dining hall to get to the room where we hold the SU group. That in itself takes some time. It's not quite running the gauntlet, but there are parallels!

These are the early years primary children. And every table I have to pass, on either side, the children want to chat. Some come up and they give me a hug. Others want to show me what it is they're having to eat. Still others are asking me questions. Some even want to be sharing 'high-fives'.

It's a familiarity born of my being there each week at their Thursday morning assembly. They know me and trust me. And that's where it's all got to start in sharing the good news of Christ.

Trust.

The SU group itself is great. We keep getting a good twenty or more of the children along - and that despite it being sunny and fine outside.

They're comfortable here as well. They enjoy the chat as they start by eating their lunch. And then we move into a game or something like that. Something which involves them all and gives them a bit of fun. Mostly related in some sort of way to what we'll be going on to think about.

We have a programme for this summer term. Some of the stories the gospels record about Jesus and things that he did. Today it was "Jesus and some folk who were all at sea."

The time when Jesus was asleep in the boat when the storm blew up and frightened the living daylights out of these Galilean fishermen.

The story itself doesn't ever take long to tell. But we try and make it memorable, personal, fun.

It's truth which they need to know. And they need to know that it's not just fun, but it's there for them all to embrace. Something for them to fall back on.

Jesus remains completely in charge through the storms which we find ourselves facing.

The value for the month at the school through May is simplicity.

We try to keep it simple at the SU group. Storms. Fear. Jesus.

Storms happen. For all of us. Often as unexpected as they're undesired. Pressure, pain, problems. Out of the blue.

Fear can grip us too. A dreadful sinking feeling. Worry can turn into panic. Stress can result in sheer terror. Sleep deserts us. We wake up anxious and worried, not having a clue what to do. We fear the worst. We see no end to the problem, no way for the thing to be resolved.

And Jesus. The Jesus who should be out helping us seems blissfully unconcerned: and in terms of any real help he might give he seems shamefully fast asleep. But he's there. And entirely in charge. One simple word from his lips, and the storm abates.

Simplicity is making the journey of life with just enough baggage. The Head gave that quote as he spoke about what this month's value really meant.

You don't really need that much 'baggage' for living out life to the full. In fact, if you travel by boat, your excess baggage becomes a liability.

Having Jesus in the boat is the 'baggage' we need. There's a lot we'd do well to be tipping right over the side!

feeding the flock

There was the lunch-time service again today.

So the bulk of the morning was given over to preparation. For that service, but also for the three services this coming Sunday (there's an afternoon communion service as well this week), and for the Scripture Union group tomorrow over lunch.

Preparation is important. I came across this little piece from Nigel Pollock today (you can read it in its entirety here) -

The primary job of the pastor is to feed the flock. You may be relieved to know that we don’t have to become celebrity chefs. But we do need to cook. The best cuisine usually involves fresh local produce, some basic principles in practice and a bit of creative flair.

I believe in presentation, in creativity, in ambience, in hospitality, in conversation and in humour. But a dinner party with all these things brilliantly done but without food will leave the guests hungry. And hungry guests leave.

If we want to see the flock fed we need to spend time working with the food. Thinking about how we nourish those who are coming not just how we entertain or stimulate them.

Spiritual babies need pure spiritual milk, and our desire is to move people on in maturity so that they can digest adult food. I meet many people struggling to stay spiritually alive in the workplace because they are malnourished. Junk food and snacking can keep you going for a while but a junk food diet will not lead to health and wholeness in the long-term.

I commented to a group of Kiwi pastors that I was concerned that preaching was not a priority in many churches. One of them spoke to me afterwards to put me straight. “Preaching IS a priority in my ministry. It is definitely in the top ten, probably number four or five”. I asked him how he would feel about going to a restaurant that put food as its fourth or fifth priority. He said that he probably wouldn’t want to go but that he didn’t see my point. Which kind of was my point.

So, fellow chefs, shepherds and spiritual caterers, what I am trying to work out in all this is:

When Jesus tells Peter to “feed his lambs”, what did he mean and how do we do that today?

When Peter and Paul speak about milk and solid food, how do we provide appropriate nourishment that helps people grow to maturity in our preaching?

My primary job is to feed the flock. And that means giving some considerable time to what in culinary terms is called simply 'food preparation'.

But 'feeding the flock' is also what pastoral work, as well as the preaching and teaching, is all about. And most days, too, there's a fair amount of that going on.

Today's been no exception. A range of different people, with some very different needs, and facing a number of different issues. And all of them needing 'fed'.

I have to assess what their 'dietary' needs presently are. Some aren't able to stomach much more than what Scripture describes as just 'milk'. The most basic of spiritual truths, in an easily digested form.

There's been some of that today. Folk who in terms of their knowledge of God are still at the infancy stage. Their sometimes barely embryonic faith is a fragile thing. But it still needs fed, and the 'food' that is needed requires to be fed in a thoroughly 'liquidised' form.

I've watched the gradual progress in the way that Isla's fed. The way in which, as she grows a bit, she's moved on from merely milk. Feeding becomes a bit of a messy performance. And the food that she's eating is pureed and basic and bland.

But it's helping her grow. And the care that her Mum always takes (it's mainly her!) to ensure that her diet is good is exactly the care that a preacher and pastor must also be always displaying.

Feeding the flock is always the primary job of the pastor.

balance

There's a need for balance.

I'm always aware of that. But today I've been made aware of that need once again.

I'm thinking in particular of the balance there is between 'grace' and 'truth'. Push the one too hard and you end with liberalism. Push the other too hard and you end with legalism. In Jesus, of course, the balance was perfectly held.

"We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth."

In that matchless combination of both grace and truth lies no small part of his glory. But it's not an easy balance to hold.

Most of the day I've been seeing folk - some of them here, some of them out and about, in their homes and down at the hospital.

All of that is part of the 'pastoral' work in which I'm continually involved. Meeting and talking with people in the circumstances of their own very personal world.

I'm concerned, of course, to be bringing God's truth to be bearing upon the very varied needs there are in that personal, pastoral context. But I trust that it's grace more than anything else which is known by the person concerned.

I hope I'm not hard or harsh. I hope that I'm warm, sympathetic and full of compassion and care. I hope I afford some encouragement, comfort and help.

Grace. Without in any way my compromising truth.

In the preaching of the Word of God, I'm concerned as well to underline and minister God's grace. But I'm bound to proclaim God's truth. Truth that is challenging, probing, convicting. Truth that reveals all the searing, unutterable glory of God in his infinite holiness: truth that thus also exposes the squalid and tarnished corruption of us in our miserable sinfulness.

(I'm quoting the words of a godly and gracious man with whom I had lunch. He declared over lunch that all he could ever describe himself as was 'a miserable sinner').

It's that truth, of course, which will drive us to rest in God's grace and to marvel again and again at the richness and wonder of all that God is and God does in his love.

But that truth in itself is a hammer and sword which discomforts, disturbs and upsets us - as much as it comforts and soothes.

There's a balance between the preaching and the pastoring.

A balance between the preaching which will drive us to our knees in humble shame before the majesty of God and see us clinging, Jacob-like, to Jesus for the mercy which is only offered there; and the pastoring which will raise folk to their feet again and clothe them with the garments of God's grace.

But there's a balance that's needed as well in both the preaching and the pastoring. Comfort as well as challenge in the preaching. Challenge as well as comfort in the pastoring.

Gentle without being soft. Firm without being hard.

In the eyes of some I fear I sometimes seem judgmental. Commit to proclaiming the truth of God, without due regard to his grace, and you end up as a Pharisee or one of the friends of Job.

It's an occupational hazard.

Among the many conversations that I had today, this was a care that emerged. "I'm not sure I want to be coming to worship again, because I feel I'm not ever good enough for Jerry. What should I do?"

It wasn't exactly your 'agony aunt' sort of stuff: but there was agony, certainly.

Because it's me that's preaching God's truth, it feels, I don't doubt, like it's me that's setting the standard. When it's not. It's the truth of God which makes us feel we're not good enough. Before the bright glory of almighty God, who is ever good enough?

It makes me feel exactly the same. None of us is good enough. (Not for Jerry, I should stress, but for God). "All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Rom.3.23).

God's word drives that troubling truth right home. There isn't a way to make it a bit more palatable. But it's God's truth. Not mine.

What perhaps I need to be much more careful to do is ensure that God's grace in his Son Jesus Christ is also being plainly heard. That's where there's maybe a need for a good deal more balance - spelling it out at some length, instead of my simply assuming that those who have been there for years have grasped it and know it all well. Balance.

What should I do? the person asked.

I suggested the one thing the person should do was simply believe the best. About me, not least.

When I've been in your home, when I've shared (as I've done quite a bit) in your family life, have I really been 'judgmental'?

Is that what I've been when I've wept with you all in your grief? Is that what I've been when I've been down on my knees at your side and pleaded with you for God's help? Is that what I've been when I sought to be shouldering alongside you all the burden of pain and concern that you've known?

I preach God's truth from the pulpit, but I hope that it's done with the heart of that pastor whom you've known in your home (I'm sure) as a man who has ministered grace.

Believe the best about your pastor and your preacher. He's not judgmental at all. And I in my turn will work all the harder to see that there's the balance that our truest health requires between the grace and truth of God.

growth

The wee girl is constantly growing!

A quick run down the road to Shrewsbury - and back again! - at the end of last week afforded the chance to see little Isla, now six months old. The difference in less than a month at this sort of age is always quite remarkable.

It's a joy to watch her grow. It quite takes my breath away. And not the least of the growth which so delights my heart is her growing recognition of her family. The warmth of her smile would melt the polar ice cap!

I understand full well why the Lord takes such pleasure in seeing real growth in our lives.

We're meant to grow. The exhortations abound.

".. make every effort to add to your faith.."

".. grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Saviour jesus Christ."

All the gifts which Christ has bestowed on his church, not least in the realm of teaching and pastoral work, are designed to ensure that in all things we "grow up into him who is the Head, that is, Christ."

And all the energy that is poured into proclaiming Christ and the subsequent "admonishing and teaching everyone with all wisdom" has one great end in view, "that we may present everyone perfect (mature) in Christ."

We're meant to grow. We're exhorted to grow. And the whole of the life and ministry of the church of Jesus Christ is geared to promoting and cultivating just that growth.

A growth which will one day be completed when we are finally conformed, according to God's great purpose, into the likeness of Christ.

Much of my day today has been centred around this theme. Not least a lengthy session this afternoon in regard to our roll of members and the extent of our pastoral oversight.

There's a lot of hard work required in this regard. And a lot of hard thinking that's still to be done as we seek to become the church God means us to be.

Membership is important. And I fear that our thinking and practice has become a little bit wooly in this respect. We haven't quite seen the importance and significance that membership actually has in the purpose and work of God.

Our membership of a local congregation is the way in which we give clear and public expression to the fact that we have crossed into the kingdom of God's beloved Son and acknowledged his lordship over our lives.

We cease to be 'free agents', doing our own thing, pursuing our own agenda, and effectively remaining as masters of our own fates.

We submit to the lordship of Christ as that is expressed in the pastoral authority given by him to his church. That's why we're always exhorted to "obey your leaders and submit to their authority": they are tasked, through their teaching and pastoral work, to apply the lordship of Jesus to the lives of his people.

"They watch over you as men who must give an account." It's an onerous burden laid upon their shoulders, for sure. The Lord has given to them the authority to speak and to act in his name, and to bring to bear the grace of his ultimate lordship over their lives.

By that deliberate membership of a local congregation we consciously and publicly own the lordship of Jesus, by submitting to the authority of the church.

I fear that too often this biblical truth has been largely lost sight of by many, perhaps even most, of those who have come into membership.

"Today, we don't believe that authority belongs to the church; it belongs to the consumer who asserts his rule through his presence and pocketbook. Instead of calling consumers to submit to the lordship of Christ, the church does all it can to cater to the consumer. The preacher pulls up a stool and plays the comedian. The minister of music closes his eyes, leans back, and lays into a guitar riff. The church 'audience' is delighted - for a while.

".. We've been carried away by culture. More than we realise, we view ourselves as independent agents charged with determining how best to grow, serve, and love in the faith. Yes, we may listen to others, defer to others, and accept guidance from others, but in the final analysis we view ourselves as our own coaches, portfolio managers, guides, judges, and the captains of our own ships in a manner that is more cultural than biblical. In short an underdeveloped theology conspires with our anti-authority and individualistic instincts to deceive us into claiming that we love all Christians everywhere equally while excusing ourselves from loving any of those Christians specifically, especially submissively. Unsurprisingly, churches are shallow, Christians are weak, and God's people look like the world."

Jonathan Leeman,

'The Church and the Surprising Offense of God's Love'

The man's on the button.

Every member has the right to expect and look for pastoral oversight. And it's our responsibility as leaders to ensure that such oversight is in place.

But in exercising that pastoral oversight, every pastor has the right to expect a commitment to grow on the part of those being pastored, and a readiness to give expression to the lordship of Jesus over their lives in their submitting to the pastoral lead that the pastor affords.

Which may involve guidance, instruction, reproof and correction, encouragement, challenge and care. Growth doesn't happen by magic. Getting fit involves some sweat. Physiotherapists are not by any means that popular.

We want to secure such growth among God's people here. God wants to see such growth among his people here.

We were working through this afternoon to try and set that all in place. It's a slow and arduous process!

And at night there was more of the actual pastoral work. Working again with a couple to help them grow in Christ.

They came to faith some time ago. Submitted their lives to the lordship of Jesus. But there's loads they have to work through.

Like Isla, they've grown. Remarkably so. But it doesn't come cheap. There's an investment of time that's required on both their parts and mine.

When the Scriptures exhort us to "obey your leaders and submit to their authority," that's not a mandate for any sort of dictatorial rule. I don't go in and boss them around. They submit to my authority by working through with me the issues that they're struggling with and taking both the comfort and the challenge of my words and my perspective as being in truth imparted in the very name of Christ.

I am watching over them as a man "who must give an account."

I'm conscious of that. I'm aware of the huge responsibility. I'm aware of the need to be closely in touch with the Lord, to be handling his Word with a careful, informed sort of wisdom, to be prayerfully discerning the promptings the Spirit is giving.

This is pastoral work. Shaping the lives of those who've acknowledged the lordship of Jesus and fashioning out of those lives the likeness of Jesus as well. Securing their genuine growth, to the glory of God.

It's time-consuming, costly, and it calls for Christ-like sacrifice. But it's humbling, moving, thrilling work: and I marvel at the grace of God which gives to me the privilege of exercising just this sort of ministry each day.

"Christian life and growth occur upon the humming energy field of the church's authority, because that authority energises life. If we pull ourselves out from under the umbrella of the local church's authority, we remove ourselves from God's ordained means of growth."

[Jonathan Leeman]

sabbath

We have a service each Wednesday lunch-time here. A gentle sort of punctuation mark in the flow of a busy week.

At the moment, in these weeks after Easter, we're taking the time to reflect just a bit on the varied resurrection narratives with which each of the gospel records ends.

For myself, I find it instructive and full of challenge. Not the task of expounding God's Word, so much as the content of that Word.

We've been thinking a lot, for instance, these last few weeks, about the contrast between the women who came to the tomb that Easter Sunday morning, and the guards who were there and saw it all unfold.

Two groups of people, all of them very much 'witnesses' of what went on. And yet so strikingly different.

Both the women and guards are there to do some work. Yet while for the guards that work is seen as no more than their routine job, for the women their work is service. A small distinction, perhaps. But significant nonetheless. Their outlook on life is different. Across the board.

Both the women and guards are afraid. The same word is used of them all. Fear. But the fear which grips the guards is one that simply paralyses them. Whereas the fear which the women experience is one which, by contrast, energises them. Another distinction, this time hardly small.

The fear that the women are gripped by is a thing which the Scriptures refer to as the 'fear of God'. A vigorous, vibrant, wondering, love-driven awe before the majesty and greatness of the Lord. A whole different planet from that on which the guards live out their life.

Both the women and guards go off and tell their story. Again, I find it hugely interesting that both groups are doing the same. And yet, again, just what's going on in either case is worlds apart.

The guards resort to what we now call 'spin': an official sort of 'party' line, a well-constructed press release which has little to do with the truth. The women engage in testimony: they don't really know what exactly is all going on: their words betray the fact that their conviction is shot through with much confusion.

The guards are afraid. The women are clearly excited.

The guards want to save their skin by promulgating lies. The women are prepared to lose their lives by propagating truth.

The narrative is fascinating. The guards had the chance to go down in the records of history as the first to witness the greatest event in all history. But they flunked it.

The guards were there, as the women were there. The same, but totally different.

And I'm trying, in reading the narratives here, I'm trying to tease out just where that difference actually lay. Why are the women so different in how they respond?

And the answer is given, I think, in the opening words of the accounts of Matthew and Mark.

"After the Sabbath..." (so Matthew at 28.1): "when the Sabbath was over..." (so Mark at 16.1). In other words, they had work to do, these women: but they waited. They marked the Sabbath.

They observed the rules of God's grammar. They put a huge big punctuation mark where it belonged. An emphatic full stop.

They paused for breath in the rush of events, by downing their tools, and getting their eyes back on God. That's good grammar.

And being good Jews, in observing the Sabbath, they remembered again that God is the great Creator (Exodus 20); that whatever goes on, however upsetting, disturbing or downright confusing it all may have seemed to become - this world remains God's world.

He made it. He loves it. He rules it.

And they also remembered that God is the one who delivers (Deuteronomy 5). No matter how strong, no matter how cruel, no matter how ruthless the mightiest tyrant may be, the powers that be are as nothing compared with the Lord.

Pharaoh in Egypt was simply brushed aside. When he sought to enslave them, sought to negate all their influence, sought to remove them, sought to destroy and to crush them - well, God stepped right in and delivered them out of his grasp.

Astonishing. Remarkable. Wonderful.

But all there in their history. He opened up a whole new future for them at the moment of their darkest pain and peril.

That's what these women remembered as they followed God's good grammar and observed God's Sabbath day.

With the grace of the Sabbath informing their outlook on life, they were bound to be different from those, like the guards, who knew little of that whole perspective and whose lives were thus shallow and false.

Grammar is important. We need to learn to make quite sure our lives are always punctuated well.

When the Sabbath was over...

Our Sabbath rest directs our gaze to God once more. We see him as the God who made the world, the God who comes to rescue and to save, the God who's there to meet us at our lowest point and opens up a future which we barely could imagine.

Learn to use God's grammar! When the Sabbath observed in that manner is over, we're different men and women.

dawn

Growth is mostly slow and imperceptible. Progress is often the same.

It can be frustrating for those who are keen to be seeing things happen. And depressing for those who, because it's so slow, simply cannot see anything happening really at all. Sometimes they're the same people.

The issues with which we're having to deal as leaders here are such that if there's progress at all it always seems desperately slow. And yet progress there is.

We had a meeting again this evening of those who form the leadership team. So some of the day involved preparation for that. And much of the meeting itself involved our chewing things over and teasing things out in relation to what God is doing among us here.

We have a clear vision.

It's a vision of what we believe are the Lord's priorities for us here and now. It's clear, challenging, and puts down a marker as to what we're really about. We're committed to this. Six distilled priorities, defining who we are and what we are about so far as the Lord is concerned.

We have great facilities.

A superb suite of halls, set in wonderful grounds, with a car park the envy of most. We view them as a gift from God: we believe they are a blessing not a burden, a resource the Lord has given us and not some sort of millstone round our neck.

We have a sizeable congregation.

A good many hundreds, of all sorts of folk. A lot of them growing quite elderly, frail and infirm. A lot of young families, too, committed one way and another right up to the hilt between their homes, their work and all the other bits there are to life.

Time is at a premium for those who have the energy and drive. Energy and drive are rather lacking in the folk who have the time. It would be great if we could balance the whole thing out a bit! But we can't.

And it means there's maybe more that we would like to do than what we actually can. At least on our present way of working.

What we're trying to do is to 'marry' these three and see how they fit together. The priorities, place, and people.

It excites us, the way we may yet be able to further the purpose of God: we're inspired and enthused by the possible ways to be sharing the good news of Christ: we're keen to make disciples and to use to that end the God-given place that we have.

Just how we might use all our premises here to that end is a question we all must address. 'All', as in all of the congregation. And just what that will involve, and how that might be made to work - well, all of that as well needs wise consideration by us all.

Progress is slow. It all takes time. And sometimes it must seem, I fear, that nothing's really happening much at all. But it is.

Dawn is often frustrating. I've sat on the shores of foreign climes waiting and waiting to capture on film the rising sun. Hours on end, with an ever so gradually lightening sky the only clue that the sun will finally rise.

It's still very much the dawn with us here. But the new day will appear!

no tame pets

In the aftermath of yesterday's services, I received this morning an e-mail from a visitor who had shared with us in our worship. In it he included this quotation from Eugene Peterson, which he felt was very applicable.

"The task of a prophet is not to smooth things over but to make things right. The function of religion is not to make people feel good but to make them good.

"Love? Yes, God loves us. But his love is passionate and seeks faithful, committed love in return.

"God does not want tame pets to fondle and feed; he wants mature, free people who will respond to him in authentic individuality. For that to happen there must be honesty and truth. The self must be toppled from its pedestal. There must be pure hearts and clear intelligence, confession of sin and commitment in faith. ...

"What (the prophet) did fear was worship without astonishment, religion without commitment. He feared getting what he wanted and missing what God wanted. It is still the only thing worthy of our fear."

Peterson always writes well. His every sentence is crafted with the care and skill of an artist. And he knows how to hit the mark with what he says.

God does not want tame pets to fondle and feed. Put that alongside what he later says in regard to the prophet's fear - he feared getting what he wanted and missing what God wanted - and you're touching on things that are right at the heart of our living.

What sort of person is God intent on making me? And how, in the end of the day, will my life be simply summarised? What will be the epitaph writ large across my tomb?

A tame pet? God forbid.

He got what he wanted, but missed what God had desired? God forbid.

Much of today has been spent in preparing for a service of thanksgiving for the life of a lady who died last week. So these are the sort of big issues with which I've been preoccupied today.

The order of service needed printing. Prepared, produced and printed. It all takes time. But the time it takes affords the chance to think about the life we'll be remembering.

And the need to give time to prepare the address, as well, obliges me to give some long reflection to just how this lady lived. I ponder the Scriptures at length. I'm trying to find a match between the Scriptures and this lady's way of life. I'm trying to hear God's word to us and what he means to say.

Addresses like this are more than just a run-through of a person's life. It's worship we engage in, and it's God we mean to meet. It's his word that we're there to hear, and at this time when all of us are bound to reconsider our mortality, his word is what we need to hear.

The lady who died was 96. There's a lot of ground to cover and she wanted something simple. The full-length big biography will have to wait!

I find myself being driven back - almost, I have to say, despite myself - to read in the letter to Titus. It seems God means that I should speak about what Paul says is "the grace of God that brings salvation" and which has now appeared to all.

It's a passage which speaks about the "blessed hope" we have in Jesus, "who gave himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for himself a people that are his very own, eager to do what is good."

I'm remembering again what Peterson said. "The function of religion is not to make people feel good but to make them good."

And I'm thinking about this lady as well, and all the different facets of her life. The life of one who trusted in God. And I'm reading what Paul insists on in the pastors he appoints -

"I want you to stress these things, so that those who have trusted in God may be careful to devote themselves to doing what is good."

In many ways that's just exactly whay this woman did. Throughout her whole long life.

It's striking as I ponder again and again the whole of this letter to Titus - it's striking to see how repeatedly this is the note that is struck. This living our lives in such a way that we're devoted to doing good.

That's what Jesus was like in the way he lived his life. "God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and power and .. he went around doing good.."

Life lived his way. In accordance with his truth. In the likeness of his Son. By the power of his Spirit.

He doesn't want tame pets to fondle and to feed. It's mature, free people he wants, people who'll respond to him in authentic individuality.

God preserve me from ever becoming a tame and timid pet!