Psalm 146 – The Faithfulness of God

(Listen online here)

Several weeks ago, Barack Obama was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.  It came as a surprise to many people, not least the American President himself, because, quite frankly, nobody is really sure what Obama has done yet to bring about greater world peace.  War still rages in Iraq; extra British and American troops have only just been sent into Afghanistan; and the US-Russia relationship is still tense.

Perhaps, the words of this morning’s Psalm come to mind:

“³ Do not put your trust in princes,
in mortal men, who cannot save… [but]

⁵ Blessed is he whose help is the God of Jacob,
whose hope is in the LORD his God,

⁶ the Maker of heaven and earth,

But, is the God of Jacob, the Maker of heaven and earth, worthy of a Nobel Prize himself?  I’m not convinced that the Psalmist has got his facts right:

⁷ He upholds the cause of the oppressed
and gives food to the hungry.

Well, I’m not sure about that!  15 million people in Ethiopia, Kenya, Somalia and Uganda are starving as I speak because of a near total failure of the Long Rains on which they depend.  If God feeds the hungry, why is he not feeding them?

⁸ the LORD gives sight to the blind, the Psalmist proclaims with confidence.

Well, I’m not sure about that! According to the World Health Organisation, 37 million people are totally blind, with hundreds of millions more suffering visual impairments.  Where’s their sight?

But the Psalmist continues:

⁹ The LORD watches over the alien
and sustains the fatherless and the widow,
but he frustrates the ways of the wicked.

Well, I’m not sure about that either!  The wicked seem to do quite well, from what I can tell, and having spent time in orphanages in India, I’m not sure that the Lord does sustain the fatherless as well as we might hope.

Clearly then, the Psalmist has made a mistake: either the Lord doesn’t reign forever, or, if he does, he’s not quite the benevolent deity the Psalmist claims he is.  So what do we make of this?  Why should we put our faith in God when there is such widespread suffering?  How can we command our souls to praise God when life can be so cruel?

The answer, I believe, is hope.

I don’t know why God allows such suffering.  I don’t know why God heals some people and not others.  I don’t know why injustice prevails. I don’t know why, and I want to scream at God sometimes.

But, somehow and somewhere, behind the chaos and mess of everyday life, I see a God who is drawing the threads of our lives together into a great tapestry.  I see a God whose love flows freely into our lives despite pain and troubles.  I see a God who has been faithful to his people despite our disobedience and sin.

I see God on a cross… and I see an empty tomb.

There is hope, for the God of Jacob is a God with scarred hands and bloodied feet.

There is hope, for the Maker of heaven and earth cannot be confined to a tomb or controlled by the powers of darkness.

There is always hope of resurrection.  There is always hope of a new heaven and a new earth.

There is always hope for when God will, in the words of John in the book of Revelation, “wipe every tear from their eyes” because there will be “no more death or mourning or crying or pain” (Rev. 21:4).  The old order of things will pass away.

It is for this that I can join with the Psalmist and sing: “Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord, O my soul!”

For it is the Lord, not Baal or Buddha or Mohammed who can achieve this.

It is the Lord, not Obama who will bring about true peace.

It is the Lord, not the free market system that will satisfy all hunger.

It is the Lord, not the church that will bring about perfect justice.

It is the Lord who calls us to work with him, not us who calls God to work with us.

It is the Lord, and for that we join with the angels around the throne and the redeemed from every generation, land and tongue in singing those marvellous words:

“Happy are those whose hopes rely

On Israel’s God!  He made the sky,

And earth and sea, with all their train:

His truth for ever stands secure;

He saves the oppressed, he feeds the poor,

And none shall find his promise vain.”

(Isaac Watts, based on Ps. 146)

Amen.

 

Leadership in Ministry

In order to reflect on leadership in ministry, I have been reading through Matthew’s Gospel with an eye to Jesus’ leadership skills and foci.  Several themes recurred and jumped out at me.  I’d be interested to know what you think; or what I might have missed out!

First, Jesus is confident in his identity. Whether he is being tempted by Satan (Mt. 4:1f.), teaching crowds with ‘authority’ (Mt. 7:29), reporting back to John the Baptist (Mt. 11:4f.),  or responding to criticism (Mt. 13:57, 21:23f.), Jesus knows who he is and what he is called to do.  It seems to me that we ministers need a similar confidence, being rooted in our callings as both children of God and as ones called to lead, teach and pastor.  We need to ensure this confidence does not become arrogance though, and our boasting must only be in Christ Jesus (Rom. 1:30; 1 Cor. 1:31).

Secondly, flowing from Jesus’ confidence in his identity is a clear sense of purpose and mission. Jesus knows the message he is to proclaim (‘Repent for the Kingdom of God is at hand’, Mt. 4:17) and proclaims it boldly, even against opposition.  Perhaps thanks to Jesus’ authority, he has little apparent trouble in enrolling disciples to follow him and share in the kingdom’s purposes and mission.  His passion and drive overflow to the twelve as he sends them out to heal and preach (Mt. 10).

We ministers thus also need to have a clear sense of purpose and mission, which should be that of Jesus, and of Paul and the early Church.  We need to have a clear sense of our mission as, firstly, preaching good news to the poor, proclaiming freedom for the captives and recovery of sight for the blind (Lk. 4:18-19); and secondly of preaching Christ, and Christ crucified (1 Cor. 1:13).  Having a clear sense of purpose and mission is also about discerning God’s will for the church, and providing a vision for ministry and mission.  As John Drane in After McDonaldization (2008, p.107) rightly notes, ‘If the people of God are to play their full part in ministry, then they must have a clear sense of what the Church is for, where it is going, and what their role within it might be.  Once there is this sort of shared vision, it is not difficult for people to identify their own purpose and value within the Church.’

Thirdly then, in seeking to stay rooted in God and the missio Dei, Jesus’ ministry and leadership is drenched with prayer.  Jesus is intimately connected with God and God’s will (Mt. 11:27), and Jesus seeks quiet and prayer to listen for God’s direction (e.g. in Gethsemane, Mt. 26:42; also Mt. 14:13, 14:23, 17:1f.).  Whilst Jesus is fully God, and thus has some advantages over us mortal ministers, such an immersion in prayer is still vital for godly leadership.

Fourthly, and also linked in with Jesus’ clear sense of purpose and mission, we see that Jesus empowers others and gives confidence to his followers. I’ve already mentioned how he called and sent out the twelve, but Jesus spends much of his time mentoring, building up, challenging and encouraging this motley band of followers.  In short, he disciples them.  “Do not be afraid”, he tells them (Mt. 10:26).  He makes time for them, listens to their concerns, and takes them with him in his kingdom work and mission.  Whilst Jesus is clearly the leader, his disciples have the authority to do the same work and live the same message.

Fifthly, leadership for Jesus is about servant hood and humility (Phil. 2:5f.).  As Henri Nouwen writes in Wounded Healer (1989), “I leave with you the image of a leader with outstretched hands, who chooses a life of downward mobility. It is the image of the praying leader, the vulnerable leader, and the trusting leader.”

Jesus, God with us, bows down and washes his disciples’ feet (Jn. 13).  Even if one casts aside this famous event, we see Jesus giving all of himself to God’s ministry and mission, and to those he came to serve through healing and teaching.  Jesus has time for people: he listens to people’s voices and troubles.  He notices people – even those who just touch the corner of his cloak (Mt. 9:20).  He yearns to take people’s burdens and give them rest (Mt. 11:28f.).  Ministers today need also to lead by listening to, and serving, others.  Listening to those we serve – and an openness to respond to God’s call at all times and in all places – allows what Paul Lederach calls ‘accidental sagacity’ to take place.  Accidental sagacity is the ability to ‘respond to the unexpected and to follow surprising paths towards a sometimes unknown outcome’ (Ward, F., ‘Leadership: a Lateral Perspective, Contact 153, p.50).  To do this, we need to be open and humble, serving and leading with the Spirit of God for the glory of God.

Sixthly and finally, servant ministry for Jesus is love being manifested in grace and truth (Jn. 1:14).  The ‘grace’ aspect is perhaps overemphasised in modern pastoral ministry, and the ‘truth’ element underemphasised.  I wonder, as I read the Gospels, whether many of us ministers are too weak in our willingness to speak difficult truths.  Jesus has no such qualms, even when it mired him controversy and death threats (Mt. 12:14).  Jesus comes out with phrases such as “You of little faith” (Mt. 8:26), “Woe to you, Korazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida!” (Mt. 11:21), and “I tell you the truth, it is hard…” (Mt. 19:23) – just to pick a few.  Jesus’ words shock our privatised, postmodern minds, but Christian leaders need to bring people to the truth, in love.

In summary then, in Jesus’ ministry we see a leader confident in his calling, focussed in his mission and vision, drenched in prayer, and empowering others to follow and use their gifts; a leader serving and leading simultaneously, and a leader embracing the challenges of being and bringing grace and truth to a church and world wallowing in legalism and self-deception.  It’s not an easy act to follow…

 

Holy Communion for a Sinless Church?

I came away unsatisfied, but couldn’t quite put my finger on why.  The service and the congregation had been very pleasant, but there was something missing in the Communion liturgy.  When I got home last night after my drive back to Cambridge, it was niggling me so much that I had to drag out my copy of ‘Worship: from the United Reformed Church’, blow the dust off,  and look up the Second Order of Holy Communion from which part of the service came.

First, I should say that I really like a lot of what is in that Second Order.  The language is direct, easy to understand, poetic, and brings out more of the life of Jesus in community; for example in the invitation:

“Jesus was often a guest.

He shared many meals with his friends,

and they long remembered his words at the table.

Though some disapproved of the company he kept,

Jesus ate and drank with all kinds of people

and showed everyone the love of God.

Wherever people met together

Jesus was glad to be welcomed and to be fed.

Today, we are the guests of Jesus.

He welcomes us,

whoever we are and whatever we bring,

and he will feed us at his table.”

© United Reformed Church, 2003

My problem, however, is not so much with what is there, but what isn’t there.  And that, in short, is sin. Or, more specifically, any notion that Jesus died for our sin.  The word ‘sin’ only appears (briefly) in the Prayer of Confession, and nowhere else.  Sin might be a “stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Greeks” (1 Cor. 1:23) in a society that doesn’t understand it, but it is central to the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  And so I get concerned when I see a Communion Thanksgiving that doesn’t thank Jesus for paying the price for our sin and reconciling us to God and to one another through his death.  In the Second URC Order, Jesus’ death is seen, basically, as a result of Jesus being a pain to the religious leaders of his day:

“You gave us Jesus, your Son,

to be born and to grow up

in difficult times when there was little peace.

He embraced people with your love

and told stories to change us all.

He healed those in pain

and brought to life those who had lost hope.

He made friends with anyone who would listen

and loved even his enemies.

For these things, he suffered.

For these things, he died.”

© United Reformed Church, 2003 (my emphasis)

Was it just ‘for these things’ that he suffered and died?  Of course, Jesus’ suffering and death did stem (partly) from the company he kept, but this is not a holistic, fully rounded perspective on Jesus’ death.  Let’s not forget that God could have stopped Jesus dying.  Legions of angels could have been sent to rescue Jesus from the Garden of Gethsemane.  But no, he suffered and died because it was God’s plan for Jesus to die, and Jesus recognises this (Matt. 26:39).  Jesus’ death was planned from the creation of the world to reconcile us both to God, and to one another (Eph. 1:3-12).  As uncomfortable as it sounds to postmodern ears, blood was needed for this reconciliation (Eph. 2:14-16; Col. 1:20).

In the words of Paul: “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might be the righteousness of God” (2 Cor. 5:21).  Jesus came into the world to do this – “to serve, and give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45).  To jump back to the prophecies of Isaiah, Jesus was “pierced for our transgressions…crushed for our iniquities” and “the punishment that brought us peace was upon him” (Isa. 53:5).  As 1 Peter 2:24 makes plain, “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed.”  The good news is that through his atoning death, Jesus destroyed the devil’s power of death over us (Heb. 2:14).  In that oft repeated phrase in the New Testament, “Christ died for our sins” (1 Cor. 15:3).  How can we not mention this at Communion – a Passover meal?  Is the URC’s Second Order Communion liturgy for a sinless church that doesn’t need Jesus’ death?  Please show me that church!

 

Our First Love

Having started my final year of ministry training, an internship at Christchurch, Hitchin, I was particularly strick by this Eugene Peterson quote about pastoral work in his book ‘Five Small Stones for Pastoral Work’:

“Pastoral work, in large part, deals with the difficulty everyone has in staying alert to the magnificence of salvation.  When we first encounter God’s saving love, it may well overwhelm us.  But over a period of years it becomes a familiar part of the landscape… The vocabulary of salvation becomes hackneyed, reduced to the level of valentine-card verse.  The mannerisms of the saved become predictable… What we first experienced…as earthshaking and soul-changing vision and adventure, we now take for granted.  We lose, in the language of the Apocalypse, our ‘first love’. …Orthodoxy is preserved even while intimacy is lost.” (p.31)

At Christchurch, we are starting a new vision of ‘being more rooted, bearing more fruit’.  My prayer is that in being more rooted in God’s word, in worship, in service, and in a faithful community, all of us can bear more fruit for God by rediscovering him once more as ‘our first love’ – by rediscovering the sheer magnificence of salvation!

 

Expectant Living…

God has been challenging me with the question: Do I live expectantly? Do I live expecting God to act in my everyday life? Do I expect God to use me and work through me as I go about my internship, preaching and visiting church members?

The thing is: God has a tendency to work most powerfully when we expect him to work. Reading the autobiography of the great Welsh preacher and evangelist Selwyn Hughes, I’ve been reminded recently of the 1904 Welsh Revival. In a period of six months, 100,000 men and women flooded into the churches. Stories were told of miners down in the bowels of the earth crying to God under intense conviction of sin to save them. Many times, men would come up to the surface at the end of their shifts with white streaks down their blackened cheeks showing the tears of repentance that had flowed down their cheeks. People would sing hymns in the pubs; old debts were paid off; crime plummeted. People expected God to act, and, in turn, they responded to God’s call and the wave of revival continued – in Wales and far away. Missionaries were sent out across the world, including to a tribe in North East India called the Mizos.

Back in August I had the privilege to visit Mizoram, an incredibly poor state where most people survive on less than ₤2 a day. The land is beautiful, but people’s homes are little more than corrugated iron shacks on the sides of majestic mountains. Civic buildings are dilapidated, roads are potholed, the local hospital is not somewhere you want to go if you get ill! But amongst this economic poverty is a spiritual wealth that I have never encountered anywhere else, and it all dates back to the expectant and faithful missionaries sent out at the time of the revival movements in Wales. At first, the Mizos rejected the gospel, at first people were persecuted, but the missionaries expected God to act and, in 1906, Mizoram experienced its first revival. The church began to grow rapidly, prayer meetings extended into the early hours of the morning, and thousands came, repented and wept of their sins. They cried to God to be filled and transformed. The wave of the Spirit of God kept moving as the missionaries and new followers expectantly looked to Christ.

Today, some 90% of Mizoram’s one million inhabitants are practising Christians – mostly Presbyterian – and still revival meetings continue. In the multi-cultural, multi-faith nation of India, thousands meet at services throughout the week in this remote state to dance, to sing, to share hospitality, to listen to the word of God preached, to pray openly and passionately, and to commit themselves to the Spirit’s calling. I was overwhelmed during my visit by the humility of these Christians who live their lives with such expectancy. It was powerful to see senior figures of the denomination on their knees in prayer during services. It was amazing to hear that this economically impoverished church supports 1750 missionaries in India and abroad. I became convinced by my visit to Mizoram that both I as an individual, and we, collectively as the Church, need to start living with such expectancy, trusting in the very real and present promises of God now.  Who knows where the Spirit might lead us?