Luke 18:35-19:10 | Part 1

God is for you, not against you:

People might be against you. Circumstances might be against you. But God is for you.

That is the message that people need to hear, regardless of their background. That is the good news for communities living without hope.

We have been brought into God’s family:

The blind beggar and the tax collector were both excluded by the crowd. The beggar recognises that Jesus is the Son of David: the one who will restore the fortunes of God’s people. By calling the tax collector a son of Abraham, Jesus pushes-out the boundaries: for though the people traced their ancestry back to Abraham, Abraham was called by God to be father of many nations. By calling himself the Son of Man – Adam’s son, or Human Being [Luke’s genealogy of Jesus ends ‘...the son of Adam, the son of God.’ Lk 3:38] – Jesus pushes-out the boundaries even more: we are all children of Adam.

God’s family embraces everyone.

Jesus is passing through:

The crowd are also part of God’s family, but for them Jesus passes through and they miss the moment. He is on his way to Jerusalem, to die, and (though that is not the end of the story) he never passes through Jericho again. The crowd were part of God’s family, but were missing out on the implications of that privilege, the rights and responsibilities. But two men want to see Jesus, and both respond: the beggar who receives his sight praises God, and as a result others join in; the tax collector radically downsizes, in order to meet the needs of others. The beggar follows Jesus on the road; the tax collector hosts him in the heat of the day. For each, their response has a consequence that will take them out of their comfort zone.

Jesus is passing through. Passing through the neighbourhood. Passing through our services on a Sunday. Passing through. So how will you respond?

Three Sides To Every Story

Elijah starts pre-school next week, and we have to supply the school with a photo...

Parenting Is Simple

Prioritising Rest

Luke 4:40-44
When the sun was setting, the people brought to Jesus all who had various kinds of sickness, and laying his hands on each one, he healed them. Moreover, demons came out of many people, shouting, “You are the Son of God!” But he rebuked them and would not allow them to speak, because they knew he was the Christ.
At daybreak Jesus went out to a solitary place. The people were looking for him and when they came to where he was, they tried to keep him from leaving them. But he said, “I must preach the good news of the kingdom of God to the other towns also, because that is why I was sent.” And he kept on preaching in the synagogues of Judea.


In our society, we measure the day officially from midnight to midnight, and in practice from the time we wake up in the morning to the time we go to bed at night. That is, the day runs from morning through evening; our ‘standard’ working day being 9am-5pm.

In the biblical worldview, the day runs from evening through morning, each new day beginning at around 6pm. The story of creation, in Genesis chapter 1, is recorded in the pattern: “God created x; and it was evening, and it was morning: the first day. God created y; and it was evening, and it was morning: the second day. God created z; and it was evening, and it was morning: the third day...” That is, the act of creating each new thing, of giving light or earth or plants or animals permission to flourish, begins in the evening.

Each day begins in the evening, and we see in Genesis chapter 3 that, for the man and the woman, each day began with time spent just hanging out with God, walking together in the cool of the day; followed by sleep; and only then, the work of caring for the garden in which they had been placed.

That is why the Jewish Sabbath, even to this day, begins at around 6pm on Friday evening, and ends at around 6pm on Saturday evening.

The events of Luke 4:40-44 begin with the start of a new day – “when the sun was setting” – the day following the Sabbath. And people who had been brought up being told that it was not permissible to heal on the Sabbath (though Jesus himself ignored that human rule), now that the Sabbath was over, felt free to come to Jesus for healing.

It is the start of a new day, and, for the first time since Adam and Eve in the garden, people get to start their day walking with God, person-to-person (because Jesus is fully God, as well as fully human). Jesus is reversing the curse of separation between humanity and God. And as he does so, the consequences of that curse begin to be reversed too, as people are healed of illness, set free from demonic oppression.

The next thing that happens (implied, not stated) is that Jesus (who is fully human, as well as fully God) sleeps. We need to sleep for about 8 hours in 24, or a third of the day. Jesus spent a third of his ministry asleep. If the traditional calculations are correct in saying that Jesus’ earthly ministry lasted 3 years, then he spent a year of that time sleeping. And although that is mostly implied, we do have one story of Jesus sleeping, in a boat in a storm.

Only “at daybreak,” after starting the day by resting – God walking with people; sleeping – is Jesus ready to do the thing for which he was sent, to proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God.

Biblically, work flows from rest. For God, the ‘work’ of creation flows out of the ‘rest’ of eternity, Father, Son and Holy Spirit spending time in each other’s company. For humanity – made to be in unbroken relationship with God - the ‘work’ of stewarding creation for God flows out of the ‘rest’ of spending time ‘hanging out with’ God.

Interestingly, if we get the priority of rest right, if we place rest before work, then the kingdom of God is revealed through our resting as much as it is revealed through our working. You see, God holds the two in perfect paradox: it is true to say of God that he is always at work (John 5:17), and it is true to say of God that he is always at rest (Hebrews 4:3). So the consequence of Jesus walking with people in the cool of the day is healing and deliverance; so the consequence of Jesus sleeping in the boat is that the storm, despite appearances, was never going to overwhelm the boat.

If, on the other hand, we save ‘rest’ until ‘work’ is done, we discover that work is never done, and, un-rested, the return on our labours grows less and less; our lives become decreasingly fruitful.

If I want to be fruitful, I must prioritise rest.

How do I spend my evenings?
Are they filled with doing things for God, or just spending time in his presence?

If we want to introduce people to God, do we take them to meetings, or invite them to hang out with us?

Am I getting enough sleep?

Applying Five Forms Of Capital : Example 2

God has invested in us, and he expects a return on his investment. Which begs the questions:
in what ways has God invested in us?
and,
how do we put that investment to work in such a way as to earn a return for him on his investment?

There are, essentially, five types of capital – spiritual, relational, physical, intellectual, and financial - and if we want to grow any one of them, we do so by investing the others.

Here is another personal example, to illustrate how this might work in practice:

Having moved to inner-city Liverpool, I want to see the kingdom of heaven extended in the community where I live...

We cannot do that on our own, but need to invest in relationships with others – specifically with those who sense a call to the same immediate neighbourhood...

I have observed that several of the men I probably need to invest in relationally are keen cyclists; and going cycling together would seem an obvious way to see those relationships grow. As it happens, one of them has lent me a spare bike (which is in itself an example of investing physical capital in hope of a return in relational capital). I have not ridden a bike in years, and so it will require an investment of physical capital to get fit enough to ride with cyclists – but that in itself ought to result in an increase in the physical capital available to me as I get fitter, and that in turn will enable me to invest more in the kingdom...

It will also require an investment of intellectual capital. For example, I have made enquiries about cycling in Liverpool, been directed to relevant sites online, got hold of maps of on- and off-road routes. And I will need to learn some basic bike-care skills, too...

Finally, it will involve financial capital. Having been lent a bike, my initial financial investment is a helmet, but, if I get on with riding then a point will come where I need to buy my own bike.

[As it happens, in this case I have the financial capital to buy a bike. But, if I did not have the necessary financial capital, and believed that I needed a bike in order to invest what God had given me, then I could invest spiritual capital, praying in faith for the provision of a bike; relational capital, discovering who could find or lend me a bike; or physical capital, working to earn the financial capital to buy a bike. The principle of the parable of the shrewd manager is:
invest what you have in order to grow what you need.]

The question is: if I want to see a return on the spiritual capital I invest for God’s glory in this part of Liverpool, am I prepared to employ the other forms of capital at my disposal to see it happen?

Applying Five Forms Of Capital : Example 1

God has invested in us, and he expects a return on his investment. Which begs the questions:
in what ways has God invested in us?
and,
how do we put that investment to work in such a way as to earn a return for him on his investment?

There are, essentially, five types of capital – spiritual, relational, physical, intellectual, and financial - and if we want to grow any one of them, we do so by investing the others.

Here is a personal example, to illustrate how this might work in practice:

As a family, we are committed to growing the spiritual capital of discipleship in the context of community...

Over the years, we have been drawn into relationship with other people who are committed to the same investment of spiritual capital. This network of relationships grew into the Order of Mission, to which we belong. This is in effect (though not exclusively) our spiritual extended family. And in particular within that growing, global family, for the past four years we have got together once a month with a group of other families in the north of England. This ‘huddle’ is a place where we meet with friends who share our vision and our values, and in that context of committed relationship we encourage and challenge one another, and our faith grows as a result...

This requires of us a physical investment. The huddle meets in Harrogate, which was a two-hour drive from where we lived in Nottingham, and is a two-hour drive from where we now live in Liverpool. That means that we set off at 6pm, get there for 8pm, leave there at 10:30pm, and get home again for 12:30am. And that is physically tiring; it leaves us physically tired; it costs us an investment of the physical capital at our disposal. But we have decided that it is a priority on our use of capital; which simply means that there are other things that are less of a priority...

If we are to engage fully with the huddle – to allow God to speak into our lives through the other members of the group, and to listen for what God wants to speak into their lives through us – an investment of intellectual capital is required. We need to grow in our knowledge and understanding of God’s word, in order to bring it to bear – to draw on capital reserves - in the situations we face. Jesus said scribes of the kingdom draw out treasures old and new. And this is a context where we get to do both: not only drawing on existing reserves of capital, but receiving a return, as we consider new things together...

Finally, it also requires of us a financial investment. The combined cost of petrol for the journey and a babysitter mean it is not a cheap night out...but, again, we choose to prioritise it because of the return we have seen over the years, in both relational and spiritual capital.

Five Forms Of Capital

God has invested in us, and he expects a return on his investment. Which begs the questions:
in what ways has God invested in us?
and,
how do we put that investment to work in such a way as to earn a return for him on his investment?

There are, essentially, five types of capital; and if we want to grow any one of them, we do so by investing the others.

Spiritual capital
Jesus spoke of storing up treasures in heaven, and of faith that is intended to grow as it is applied. The Bible is full of examples of spiritual gifts God invests in his children, to be exercised to his glory.

Relational capital
Jesus invested in relationships: with the 12; with Peter, James and John; with Mary, Martha and Lazarus. He knew that he could not complete the mission he had been sent to fulfil on his own.
Note: the rise of social networking – seen by some as enhancing, by others as detrimental to, relational capital – raises both opportunity for and threat to this form of capital.

Physical capital
God has given us a physical body, to be responsible for. As a general rule, our physical capital decreases with old age, but we can invest in the physical capital God has given us. Rising obesity, rising early liver damage as a result of binge drinking, and an epidemic of Chlamydia all indicate that we have a generation of young adults in our society that do not know how to invest wisely in the physical capital God has given them.

Intellectual capital
God has given us a mind, and commanded us to love him with all our mind (as well as all our heart, all our soul, and all our strength). This does not mean that we are all academically gifted; but we have the capacity to grow in our understanding of the things of God. The psalmist writes of meditating on God’s word day and night; while the books of Proverbs and Ecclesiastes are full of enquiry into the workings of the world, human and animal, in order to learn from God.
Note: in our age of information technology economy, intellectual capital has become increasingly important. But note also the difference between in/access to information, and the ability to interpret information wisely.

Financial capital
This is the one that most people appear to consider most important. Straw polls indicate that the number one ambition of young adults today is to be rich, closely followed by to be a celebrity. This is aggravated by the hope of instant riches held out by the Lottery, and a media obsession with people who are famous not for any talent or achievement but simply famous for being famous...But financial capital, according to Jesus, is not there to be reinvested in its own sake.

Parables Of Investment

Jesus used parables to illustrate certain truths about ‘the kingdom of heaven’ – that is, the sphere of God’s power and authority in the world, which, as it is extended, brings light to those living in darkness, freedom to those held captive by the oppression of sin and tyranny of death.

We tend to be most familiar with those parables that drew on agricultural images – the sowing of crops, the shepherding of sheep – which is perhaps ironic given that most of us live in urban contexts to which such images are alien. But Jesus used other images, too, including the world of business, of commerce, of financial investment: urban images.

[My observation is that many missionally-minded Christians are uncomfortable with such parables, because they do not see mega-church models, or prosperity doctrines, or the use of business models applied to church leadership as being compatible with the model of Jesus’ ministry. But Jesus employs so many investment parables that we cannot ignore them: though we might well want to reject certain interpretations, we need to wrestle with our own understanding of what Jesus is getting at.]

The parable of the bags of gold (Matthew 25:14-30) reveals to us that God has invested in us, and expects a return on his investment (a return which he then re-invests in us, for even greater return).

The parable of the shrewd manager (Luke 16:1-15) is one of Jesus’ most misunderstood, because we tend to read it as condoning stealing from one’s employer - which would contradict the commandment ‘do not steal’ - and we get in a tangle trying to reconcile the parable with the law. But parables are not ethical commands, concerned with how to live. Parables are a much more wasteful use of words, generously creating pictures that show us what to live for. Jesus wasn’t instructing his hearers to steal from their employers, any more than he was instructing people to go digging in a field for buried treasure, or sell everything to buy a pearl (other parables of investment...in fact, there are many: the parable of the wise and foolish builders; the parable of the rich fool; the parable of the lost coin...)

The parable of the shrewd manager reveals to us that we can use one form of investment that we have, in order to grow another form of investment that we don’t have but do need. The particular illustration is of using intellectual capital (shrewdness) and financial capital (money owed to his master) to grow relational capital (turning his masters debtors into his friends) that will lead to physical capital (provision, without recourse to manual labour or begging). Jesus’ view of financial capital in particular is that it always exists not for its own sake, but to be invested in other forms of capital - with the ultimate goal of all other forms of capital being to be invested in spiritual capital, that which lasts for eternity.

Another Place

Back in 2005, God called us on a journey out from Sheffield, out from all we’d learned from him there over the previous almost fifteen years; a journey that has brought us, eventually and by a circuitous route, to Liverpool.

The first stop on the journey was Perth, Western Australia, and the journey has been framed by two England Ashes victories: we arrived in Australia on the day England won the Ashes in 2005, and our arrival in Liverpool has coincided with winning them again in 2009.

At the weekend, we took a trip to Crosby Beach, next to the Liverpool Docks – a backdrop that reminded us of the docks at Fremantle.

The beach is also home to 100 iron body-casts of the sculptor Antony Gormley. Scattered across the sand (three kilometres along the beach, and up to almost a kilometre out into the sea), they stand looking out to the horizon, as the tides flow in and out, and the sun sets and rises over them. The installation is titled ‘Another Place.’ It explores the relationship between us and the environment: the way time and the elements shape us (erode us); the paradoxical way we both dig into place, and are drawn from it, longing for what we do not know.

That is a profoundly biblical experience: life as paradox held in tension; an existence that is both tied to the ground we are formed from, and inspired to journey beyond what we know. Gormley himself suggests that the overwhelming expanse of the sky calls into question the solidity of the earth: but biblical faith does not consider heaven to be more real than earth; rather it looks to the making-new of both.

At another point in the journey, I had to travel to London, where I took the opportunity to visit two other Gormley installations: ‘Event Horizon,’ which was another series of his body-casts, this time spread across the London skyline; and ‘Blind Light,’ an enclosed glass room filled with fog, in which visitors could walk, tentatively, disoriented, around – a perfect illustration of walking by faith and not by sight.

It is funny how on the journey we visit and re-visit place, Another Place...

On Crosby Beach

Crosby Beach

Three

UpSideDown Perspective

Holiday

The Parable Of The Sower | Luke 8:1-15

On the hillside above the Sea of Galilee is the village of Korazin. It is a ruin today, but what remains, of houses and the synagogue, indicates that Korazin was a wealthy village. Its wealth was built on its good soil, and the quality of the grain that was grown there. Korazin was known throughout the Jewish world for the quality of its grain.

The gospels tell us that Jesus performed many miracles at Korazin, but that the people there did not respond to his message, his urgent invitation to respond to the coming-near of God’s kingdom. Korazin had good soil, but it was poor soil for the gospel.

Jesus had made his base at Capernaum, on the lake. But he told his parables and performed miracles in the surrounding towns and villages, and it is inconceivable that he wouldn’t have told the parable of the sower in Korazin: it is a parable made for the place.

The land is steep, and crops were grown on communal, terraced fields. Sowing took place by scattering seed liberally across the field. Some seed fell on the path. Paths were important: they gave villagers access to their particular patch of land, across their neighbours’ land. Without paths, people would have trampled any which way, and much more of the soil would be pressed down too hard. Good paths made for good neighbourly relations. Paths were important; but they weren’t productive soil.

In places, the soil was thin, the bedrock very close to the surface. And surface bedrock was important: it provided the natural foundation on which to build the walls that formed the terracing, that created level ground from which the soil would not be washed away. Rocky ground was important; but it wasn’t productive soil.

Around the edges of the fields, thorns grew. And thorns were important: not everywhere was as blessed as Korazin – subsistence farming was the norm, and people could hardly afford their labour to come to nothing because the crop was eaten by animals before it could be harvested. Thorns kept animals at bay. Thorns were important; but they weren’t productive soil.

So here is my question. What is important in your life (I don’t mean, what do we think is important, but isn’t really; I mean things that really are important) but has been allowed to get in the way of our being good soil?

What good things – relationships, foundational things (like church involvement), legitimate concerns – have somehow prevented us from producing a harvest that has fed the wider community in which we live?

The summer months are a good time to stop, step back from the good things were are involved in, and reassess; to repair paths and walls and even thorns where they have fallen into disrepair; and to take note where the good soil is, where we want most of the seed scattered in our lives to fall.

Out Of Bounds

I thought I might start posting thoughts for some short talks (such as at the weekly midweek communion), as a way of my getting my head around what I am going to say, but also for anyone interested in digging deeper than the talks themselves might allow.

Matthew 16:13-20
When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, ‘Who do people say the Son of Man is?’

They replied, ‘Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.’

‘But what about you?’ he asked. ‘Who do you say I am?’

Simon Peter answered, ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.’

Jesus replied, ‘Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by flesh and blood, but by my Father in heaven. And I tell you that you are Peter [Peter, in Greek, means rock], and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of death will not overcome it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.’ Then he ordered his disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Messiah.


Jesus has become well known in Galilee. Everywhere he goes, crowds follow, and everyone has an opinion about him. From time to time, we see Jesus take his disciples out of the glare of the spotlight, off to some quiet place beyond the circles where they were known, so they could get their heads around all that was going on.

Caesarea Philippi was beyond the boundary of Galilee, but this wasn’t one of those getting-away-from-it-all times. Caesarea Philippi was the sort of place where today celebrities would go to be seen partying hard, not to recover. It was the sort of place every good Jewish mother warned her sons about, and worried they might go to. It was the sort of place no good Jewish boy would go to (except in their imagination). And the disciples must have figured out before they got there where Jesus was taking them. Can you imagine the hushed conversations going on behind his back as they followed him on the road? If news got out, people would be scandalised.

Caesarea Philippi was a shrine to the Roman emperor, who was worshipped as a living deity, saviour of the peoples of the empire, the son of the gods in human form. My view is that Jesus already knew that his Father had revealed his true identity to Simon, and that he deliberately took his disciples to this place, where the same claim was made of someone else, to underline what Simon had understood in big, thick marker pen.

Caesarea Philippi was pretty new, the latest thing, built to make the statement, ‘We’re all good citizens of the empire round here.’ But it was built right next door to the site of a much older shrine, to the Greek party-animal god Pan. At Pan’s shrine, everything and anything went – the wilder and more debauched the better. At the heart of the shrine complex was a large cave, known as the Gate of Hades – not the front entrance, you understand – that was somewhere in Greece – but the back door...And here, at the very gate of hell, Jesus declares that the gates of death will not stand against his church.

Jesus isn’t pussy-footing around. This is – quietly, deliberately, without making a scene – very confrontational. In a place where God’s followers wouldn’t go, he makes a stand.

So, where are the places we are told we ought not to go to, by sincere respectable people who fear that we will be corrupted by the sort of people to be found there?

Where are the places where people are idolised – the idols of sport, or entertainment, or intellect? Where are the places of extreme excess? What are the statements made in our society that we are supposed to sign up to – and be seen to sign up to, in order to enjoy good favour? Where are the places we are disapproving of, perhaps secretly curious about, but too afraid to step foot inside?

Where are the no-go areas? Because they are the very place where the church is supposed to be...

Ordination

Family and friends group; photo by Nat Reuss.



Family group; photo by Nat Reuss.