culturally correct

The Wednesday lunchtime service provides something of an oasis for us all. A chance to draw near to the Lord, take time apart and get our eyes on him.

The Scriptures are central to our worship. Not because they're treated as some idol that we worship: but because the Scriptures are the Word of God, and through them he still speaks.

Generally with alarming clarity and cogency and force. Today was no exception. There was again an immediacy to the preaching of the Bible. A directness.

A "this is that" sort of thing, which means that what we're reading from a whole long time ago is spoken with directness to the very sort of issues which we ourselves are dealing with today.

Sometimes it's almost scary how direct it is. It certainly touched a lot of raw nerves today and reduced not a few to tears.

It was the contrast between David, celebrating the mercy and grace of God as the ark of God was returned to the heart of the life of the people of God - and Michal, the woman to whom he was wedded, disdaining the show of delight which her husband thus had expressed.

David rejoiced in the gospel of grace, the transforming, renewing mercy of God extended at cost to the Lord to men such as him who'd done wrong. I received mercy. The mercy of God through the grace of his Son at the cost of the cross which he bore.

Michal's 'religion' was altogether different. Dressed doubtless in all her ecclesiastical finery as she watched, and looked down, from her window, she was always so culturally correct.

She didn't believe in conversion, she believed in being correct. She had little thought for the heart of God, her only concern was what others would think.

David. Michal. They lived on two different planets. Not the Mars and Venus sort of stuff. This was the difference between heaven and earth, the kingdom of God with its vibrant enjoyment of a righteousness known in the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the dominion of darkness with its counterfeit claim to correctness.

David going on to a reign of extraordinary scope. Michal, we're told, was without child until the day she died.

It's the difference between being blessed and being barren, being alive and being dead.

Where do we fit in that story? Out on the streets with David, whose living will impact the world: or up at the window, so very correct, like Michal, who now will be totally fruitless to the day she finally dies.

It's a stark and telling distinction the narrative makes. And, like all of the rest of the Scriptures, it's really very up to date indeed.