SLOW : andrew dowsett : collected musings
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Discipling Children
Here is a link to a fascinating and challenging white paper on children's ministry from Doug Paul's community, Eikon.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Labyrinth
The labyrinth is an ancient Christian symbol of Christ’s leading us towards the goal or vision he has placed in our hearts. At times, we appear to get close, only to be led away again; at times, following means being obedient even when it doesn’t appear to make sense. Unlike a maze, there are no dead ends – the path leads to its goal, though the route is indirect.
Trace your finger along the labyrinth. (You can click on the image to enlarge it.)
As you do, bring before God your day, or the season you find yourself in, with its twists and turns, and give yourself again to the One who says, “Follow me!”
Freely receive, freely give:
I led a group of people in this prayerful exercise yesterday. One of them fed back to the group that she hadn’t been able to trace the path, despite trying a number of times. At first glance, she had seen Jesus’ bowed head in the circle at the labyrinth’s heart; his arms, outstretched on the cross, also in its design...and, unable to proceed, was struck that the path to resurrection life must always lead first to the cross, and the death of the very goal or vision Christ has placed in our hearts.
It was a profound and beautiful moment.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Not Acceptance, But Transformation
God does not accept me ‘as I am.’
Never has. Never will.
God accepts me ‘as Jesus is.’
That is God accepts me because, and only because, Christ has joined himself to me in a covenant, has declared before heaven and earth that he has taken my sinful identity into himself (and has borne the full consequences) and given me right to his righteous identity in exchange.
Therefore (because God does not accept me as I am) I have no right to insist that my church community accepts me ‘just as I am,’ regardless of how far I fall short of Christlikeness, regardless of the extent to which I am still living out my old identity. That is not the basis of inclusion. I must desire transformation from the state that never was acceptable to God into the likeness of the One who is; or else I have no love for Him, no love for his brothers and sisters.
And therefore (because God accepts me as Jesus is) I have no right to sever ties with another member of my church community on the grounds of their falling short of Christlikeness. That is not the basis for exclusion. I do not mean by this that the church has no urgent imperative to discipline those members who refuse to repent of wilful separation from Christ and his own, whose actions cut themselves off from the body; but rather to insist that we are one body, not so many individuals – “though we are many, we are one body, because we all share in one bread” – and so cannot sever ourselves from another member lightly, petulantly.
The church does not exist to meet my perceived needs – including my need to be accepted as I am – but as the instrument of my transformation; to shape me; in order that I might become more Christ-like.
The church is the crowd who welcome my entry with celebration, and the crowd who call for my death soon after; the soldiers who flay and crucify me; the tomb which receives my body; the women who come bearing spices to embalm me; the morning that witnesses my rising [one] with Christ; the disciples that bear witness to God’s new creation.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Desired
I spoke on the small record of the prophet Haggai on Sunday.
As I had allowed the text to invite and to challenge me to share God’s heart, one phrase really got under my skin. At one point, God says that he shakes the earth in order that “the desired of all nations will come” and his house be filled with glory.
The desired of all nations.
In the context of the original hearers, the nations were those who lived around God’s people, who were in many ways indistinguishable from them, but who had a different set of values, of cultural practices, and a significantly different religious worldview.
Our context is being shaken, and, I suspect, will experience far greater socio-economic shaking before we see anything like a return to some sense of stability. And in this shaking context, we are seeing people come into God’s house here in Clubmoor. In particular, we are seeing those who are in various stages of recovery from various addictions, including some with significant mental health issues. Also a smaller group of young adults with no church background to inform their values and behaviour.
They are the desired of God. And we are invited by God to see them as desirable too. To want to welcome them into our corporate life, to include them, to see them grow and serve and to learn from them – we have so much to learn about accountability and about invitation and challenge, about love and discipline as the keys to freedom, from the recovery community. But as well as being invited to share God’s desire, we are challenged where we see those God has called ‘desired’ as ‘undesirable’ elements within our midst because they are ‘not like us.’ And we are challenged to include them in practice when that is hard, not just in principle.
This phrase got under my skin. Not only that I should see those God calls ‘desired’ as desired, not undesirable; but also that I should expect the desired to come.
You see, if God says that the desired of all nations will come, then that means that there are people as yet at a distance who are open to God.
And yet, I think that we – I know that I – have accepted as true the secular mantra that people do not want to know about God, let alone know God. Why should I speak of God – people aren’t interested; they don’t want to know?
I think that friends of mine in Sheffield are right to identify this as a stronghold – an ungodly belief that needs to be aggressively dismantled through prayer (2 Corinthians 10:4-5).
In any given time of shaking, we should expect to see the desired come in: that is a primary purpose of the shaking (another – Hebrews 12:25-29 – is that whatever is not of God within us should not stand, leaving what is of God and therefore unshakeable). ‘Now’ might not be everyone’s time, but if we go out into the harvest fields under the assumption that no one is open...we don’t share God’s perspective.
How do you respond to the invitation to see those different to you as desired by God?
Do you need to repent of the belief that the desired are undesirable, and believe with God that they are desirable?
How do you respond to the challenge of loving the unlovely?
How do you respond to the invitation to see those at a distance from God’s house as including many who are open to him?
Do you need to repent of the belief that people are not open to God, and believe with God that we live in a time of openness towards him?
How do you respond to the challenge of telling those around us that God desires them?
Do you recognise yourself as desired by God?
Do you need to accept the invitation to be drawn into God’s desire?
Origami Grasshoppers
At St Andrew’s this autumn, we will be exploring the last twelve books of the Old Testament, often referred to as the Minor Prophets (minor in length, not significance). These Prophetic Voices reveal different facets of God’s character, which we are invited and challenged to share.
One of the things we would like to do is to offer a creative response to each facet, including something physical we can take away as a reminder which helps to bring what we consider on Sunday into our Monday-Saturday.
Steve Taylor calls such things ‘spiritual souvenirs’ – things that not only keep a memory alive but sustain the hope of return or even relocation to that place. For Amsterdam or Tenerife, substitute Justice or Mercy – where ‘return’ is to further explore the theme, and ‘relocation’ is to live it out in our daily lives where we are: say to live justly at a personal and corporate level, as if we lived in a just world...and in this way, to make the world more just.
Such souvenirs carry the word we have heard God speak to our hearts out into the world, so that others might hear too.
On October 31, we will be looking at Joel, and our souvenirs will be origami grasshoppers. Why am I trailing this now? Most of the people who visit my blog are not members of St Andrew’s, and so it doesn’t matter. But there are a few members of St Andrew’s who follow along, and I would really like there to be, seeded through the congregation, a handful of people who understand what we are trying to do, and who can take a lead in helping others join in.
Joel: Restoration / Holy Spirit
The harvest has been devoured by a swarm of locusts of...well, biblical proportions. Joel calls on the devastated and disoriented community to return to God, and to call on him, for he longs to not only restore what has been lost but – in the very context of disaster – to go further in pouring out blessing.
Origami grasshoppers
I found this simple template online. It is simple enough that, with a little guidance, my nine-year-old daughter made one. The idea is this:
On a square of paper, write down those things you identify as having been devoured – hopes, dreams, necessities of life (think of the economy).
As you make/having made your locust, bring these things to God in prayer, confessing our own part in having forgotten him in the day-to-day going about our lives, and asking him to restore what has been lost...and for his Spirit to be outpoured on the community.
Take your grasshopper with you when you go. Place it somewhere where it will regularly prompt you to continue to pray until you see an answer to your prayers.
If you are feeling brave, place it somewhere where others will see it, inviting comment and the possibility of a conversation where you explain what it symbolises and why it is there.
Practical Considerations
Origami paper from a craft shop is best – square, finer than trimmed-down copier paper, often white on one side and coloured on the other.
It is hard to fold paper on your lap, so I’m planning on setting up a number of tables around the church, with a couple of copies of instructions taped to each table. This also means that the paper is there when needed – as opposed to giving it out at the start of the service, which is risky...
Taking things further
You might want to make more than one grasshopper – perhaps using different sizes or colours of paper – to represent things that have been devoured
at a personal level (what did you hope for that you haven’t seen?);
at a corporate church level (we don’t have any children/young adults/etc.);
at a community level (in my context, jobs/health);
at a national or an international level.
If you are feeling adventurous, you might like to try a more advanced origami grasshopper – don’t attempt this in a corporate setting, as complexity will work against the desired impact.
One of the things we would like to do is to offer a creative response to each facet, including something physical we can take away as a reminder which helps to bring what we consider on Sunday into our Monday-Saturday.
Steve Taylor calls such things ‘spiritual souvenirs’ – things that not only keep a memory alive but sustain the hope of return or even relocation to that place. For Amsterdam or Tenerife, substitute Justice or Mercy – where ‘return’ is to further explore the theme, and ‘relocation’ is to live it out in our daily lives where we are: say to live justly at a personal and corporate level, as if we lived in a just world...and in this way, to make the world more just.
Such souvenirs carry the word we have heard God speak to our hearts out into the world, so that others might hear too.
On October 31, we will be looking at Joel, and our souvenirs will be origami grasshoppers. Why am I trailing this now? Most of the people who visit my blog are not members of St Andrew’s, and so it doesn’t matter. But there are a few members of St Andrew’s who follow along, and I would really like there to be, seeded through the congregation, a handful of people who understand what we are trying to do, and who can take a lead in helping others join in.
Joel: Restoration / Holy Spirit
The harvest has been devoured by a swarm of locusts of...well, biblical proportions. Joel calls on the devastated and disoriented community to return to God, and to call on him, for he longs to not only restore what has been lost but – in the very context of disaster – to go further in pouring out blessing.
Origami grasshoppers
I found this simple template online. It is simple enough that, with a little guidance, my nine-year-old daughter made one. The idea is this:
On a square of paper, write down those things you identify as having been devoured – hopes, dreams, necessities of life (think of the economy).
As you make/having made your locust, bring these things to God in prayer, confessing our own part in having forgotten him in the day-to-day going about our lives, and asking him to restore what has been lost...and for his Spirit to be outpoured on the community.
Take your grasshopper with you when you go. Place it somewhere where it will regularly prompt you to continue to pray until you see an answer to your prayers.
If you are feeling brave, place it somewhere where others will see it, inviting comment and the possibility of a conversation where you explain what it symbolises and why it is there.
Practical Considerations
Origami paper from a craft shop is best – square, finer than trimmed-down copier paper, often white on one side and coloured on the other.
It is hard to fold paper on your lap, so I’m planning on setting up a number of tables around the church, with a couple of copies of instructions taped to each table. This also means that the paper is there when needed – as opposed to giving it out at the start of the service, which is risky...
Taking things further
You might want to make more than one grasshopper – perhaps using different sizes or colours of paper – to represent things that have been devoured
at a personal level (what did you hope for that you haven’t seen?);
at a corporate church level (we don’t have any children/young adults/etc.);
at a community level (in my context, jobs/health);
at a national or an international level.
If you are feeling adventurous, you might like to try a more advanced origami grasshopper – don’t attempt this in a corporate setting, as complexity will work against the desired impact.
Thursday, October 07, 2010
John Three Sixteen
For God so loved the world that he sent his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but should have eternal life.
I have bad news, and good news.
The bad news is this: if there is any area of your life where you have not believed in Jesus - the name means "God saves!" - then in that area of your life, you are perishing.
If you have not received the salvation - the saving, rescuing action - of God in Jesus in your life as a whole, then you are perishing. Right now. Even the good things in your life are perishing.
If you believe that Jesus is the Saviour of the world, but he is not Saviour of your finances, then that aspect of your life is perishing. Somehow, however hard you try (however hard you try to save yourself) there is never enough, never quite as much as you feel there ought to be.
If you believe that Jesus is the Saviour of the world, but he is not Saviour of your relationships, then that aspect of your life is perishing. You just don't love your husband or wife like you once did. That person used to be a close friend, but things fell apart...
The gospel declares, quite unashamedly, that there is bad news. But it also declares, quite unashamedly, that there is good news.
The good news is this: if there is any area of your life where you have believed in Jesus - as the one through whom God saves - then in that area of your life, you are moving from death into life in its fullness.
If you have received the salvation - the saving, rescuing action - of God in Jesus in your life as a whole, then you have eternal life within you. Right now. Even the bad things in your life are moving from death to life that cannot be taken from us.
If you believe that Jesus is Saviour of your finances, then that aspect of your life is moving from death to life. Even in a global recession, even laid off work, even when there is no money coming in, you will learn that God is a faithful provider.
If you believe that Jesus is Saviour of your relationships, then that aspect of your life is moving from death to life. Even though relationships are hard, even though we hurt and are hurt, you will learn that God forgives us and empowers us to forgive; that love grows in our hearts when before it withered.
There is bad news, and there is good news. And the gospel is the power of God for salvation. The gospel is always an offence to some, and salvation to others. Always. And the gospel is always more than personal salvation - for God so loved the world - but never less than personal salvation - whoever believes in him...
So, where do you recognise your need for salvation today?
Stop trying to save yourself (that is, repent) and accept the salvation God has provided in Jesus (that is, believe).
Don't put it off. Now (chronos) is the (kairos) time.
I have bad news, and good news.
The bad news is this: if there is any area of your life where you have not believed in Jesus - the name means "God saves!" - then in that area of your life, you are perishing.
If you have not received the salvation - the saving, rescuing action - of God in Jesus in your life as a whole, then you are perishing. Right now. Even the good things in your life are perishing.
If you believe that Jesus is the Saviour of the world, but he is not Saviour of your finances, then that aspect of your life is perishing. Somehow, however hard you try (however hard you try to save yourself) there is never enough, never quite as much as you feel there ought to be.
If you believe that Jesus is the Saviour of the world, but he is not Saviour of your relationships, then that aspect of your life is perishing. You just don't love your husband or wife like you once did. That person used to be a close friend, but things fell apart...
The gospel declares, quite unashamedly, that there is bad news. But it also declares, quite unashamedly, that there is good news.
The good news is this: if there is any area of your life where you have believed in Jesus - as the one through whom God saves - then in that area of your life, you are moving from death into life in its fullness.
If you have received the salvation - the saving, rescuing action - of God in Jesus in your life as a whole, then you have eternal life within you. Right now. Even the bad things in your life are moving from death to life that cannot be taken from us.
If you believe that Jesus is Saviour of your finances, then that aspect of your life is moving from death to life. Even in a global recession, even laid off work, even when there is no money coming in, you will learn that God is a faithful provider.
If you believe that Jesus is Saviour of your relationships, then that aspect of your life is moving from death to life. Even though relationships are hard, even though we hurt and are hurt, you will learn that God forgives us and empowers us to forgive; that love grows in our hearts when before it withered.
There is bad news, and there is good news. And the gospel is the power of God for salvation. The gospel is always an offence to some, and salvation to others. Always. And the gospel is always more than personal salvation - for God so loved the world - but never less than personal salvation - whoever believes in him...
So, where do you recognise your need for salvation today?
Stop trying to save yourself (that is, repent) and accept the salvation God has provided in Jesus (that is, believe).
Don't put it off. Now (chronos) is the (kairos) time.
Tuesday, October 05, 2010
Monday, October 04, 2010
Friday, October 01, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
God Is Not In Control
God is not in control.
Contrary to popular theology, God is not in control. God is not in control of my life. God does not want to be in control of my life. I do not want God to be in control of my life.
God is Sovereign. And one day all will be called to acknowledge that.
God is faithful. And we are invited to experience that faithfulness, and challenged to hold on to that faithfulness in good times and in bad times.
But God is not in control.
Why is it important that we recognise this?
Because we are called to share in God’s likeness.
God is Sovereign, and we are called to exercise his life-affirming rule over flora and fauna: to be sovereigns under the High King of Heaven.
God is faithful, and we are called to be faithful in all our relationships.
To claim that God is in control is to abdicate our part as faithful sovereigns.
But more than that, if God is in control then it would be appropriate, indeed incumbent upon us, to exercise control over others. For their own good, obviously.
God has chosen to not be in control, to find another way to get done what he has planned. And so we must never, ever seek control over anyone or anything.
Exercising control is the very antithesis of God. It is satanic.
My wife put it like this:
When we say “God is in control” what we mean is God is Sovereign and God is faithful. So let’s start using those biblical descriptions instead.
Contrary to popular theology, God is not in control. God is not in control of my life. God does not want to be in control of my life. I do not want God to be in control of my life.
God is Sovereign. And one day all will be called to acknowledge that.
God is faithful. And we are invited to experience that faithfulness, and challenged to hold on to that faithfulness in good times and in bad times.
But God is not in control.
Why is it important that we recognise this?
Because we are called to share in God’s likeness.
God is Sovereign, and we are called to exercise his life-affirming rule over flora and fauna: to be sovereigns under the High King of Heaven.
God is faithful, and we are called to be faithful in all our relationships.
To claim that God is in control is to abdicate our part as faithful sovereigns.
But more than that, if God is in control then it would be appropriate, indeed incumbent upon us, to exercise control over others. For their own good, obviously.
God has chosen to not be in control, to find another way to get done what he has planned. And so we must never, ever seek control over anyone or anything.
Exercising control is the very antithesis of God. It is satanic.
My wife put it like this:
When we say “God is in control” what we mean is God is Sovereign and God is faithful. So let’s start using those biblical descriptions instead.
Revelation : Restraint : Leading
We are called to make disciples. People we will invite to walk with us, to learn from us, to follow us for a season as we follow Jesus (consider John the Baptist, who invested in Andrew and then released him to follow another disciple-maker, Jesus himself: we, too, may disciple for a season). People we will encourage and confront, in order that they grow more fully human.
If we are to do this, we must take the revelation we have been given – not just the general revelation of how we are to live, but the personal call on our own lives – and allow it to determine restraint, allow it to set the boundaries within which the disciple-maker/disciple relationship exists.
We must not control another person. We cannot tell them that they need to follow us. We can only invite them to follow us – making clear the parameters; making clear that they will only be able to follow within those parameters – it is up to them.
And we must give them absolute freedom to choose not to follow us.
But we must not give them opt-out clauses, an invitation to follow on any other terms – because that simply isn’t possible. You can only follow someone whom you are prepared to follow, to take your lead from.
This means that we must be focused, determined, uncompromising, not swayed, not accommodating. And this means that few will follow – which is a good thing. Jesus did not have many disciples: why would I think that I can disciple more people at any given time than Jesus?
Jesus didn’t ignore other people – he had compassion for the crowds. But they weren’t his focus. We tend to mistake the Sermon on the Mount for a public rally; in fact, a closer look reveals that he called his disciples to him and was addressing them – the crowd was listening-in.
There are a very many people in our lives, and we are called to engage with them all, at one level or another – those we meet in the course of our work, in our neighbourhood, in our extended families. But Jesus’ commission to every one of his followers – regardless of work, or neighbourhood, or family context – is to make disciples, not gather crowds. And that is counter-intuitive to those who want to save the world. Discipleship requires revelation and restraint.
If we are to do this, we must take the revelation we have been given – not just the general revelation of how we are to live, but the personal call on our own lives – and allow it to determine restraint, allow it to set the boundaries within which the disciple-maker/disciple relationship exists.
We must not control another person. We cannot tell them that they need to follow us. We can only invite them to follow us – making clear the parameters; making clear that they will only be able to follow within those parameters – it is up to them.
And we must give them absolute freedom to choose not to follow us.
But we must not give them opt-out clauses, an invitation to follow on any other terms – because that simply isn’t possible. You can only follow someone whom you are prepared to follow, to take your lead from.
This means that we must be focused, determined, uncompromising, not swayed, not accommodating. And this means that few will follow – which is a good thing. Jesus did not have many disciples: why would I think that I can disciple more people at any given time than Jesus?
Jesus didn’t ignore other people – he had compassion for the crowds. But they weren’t his focus. We tend to mistake the Sermon on the Mount for a public rally; in fact, a closer look reveals that he called his disciples to him and was addressing them – the crowd was listening-in.
There are a very many people in our lives, and we are called to engage with them all, at one level or another – those we meet in the course of our work, in our neighbourhood, in our extended families. But Jesus’ commission to every one of his followers – regardless of work, or neighbourhood, or family context – is to make disciples, not gather crowds. And that is counter-intuitive to those who want to save the world. Discipleship requires revelation and restraint.
Revelation : Restraint : Listening
“Where there is no revelation, people cast off restraint; but blessed are those who heed wisdom’s instruction.”
(Proverbs 29:18)
“The core discipline of the Christian life is hearing Jesus’ voice.” (Mark Carey)
I’ve been paying half-attention to the early rounds of The X Factor over recent weeks. Of the tens of thousands of people who turn up at the auditions, hoping to impress the judges, there are two frustrating trends year after year:
those who have no singing ability whatsoever, but who will not take constructive criticism from the judges – the hard truth – because their family and friends have told them that they are fantastic, and should follow their dream;
and
those who clearly have a fantastic voice, but have absolutely no confidence, because they have been told – explicitly by individuals, or implicitly by the wider community, or both – that they will never amount to anything.
Who do we listen to?
Those who will tell us only what we want to hear?
Those who will tell us only what we don’t want to hear?
Or Jesus – who, day by day, will tell us what we need to hear?
Those who won’t hold out challenge where challenge is required in order for us to move forward, on a more fitting path (a course of action that is a better fit for us)?
Those who won’t hold out invitation where invitation is required in order for us to move forward, on the most fitting path?
Or Jesus – who extends invitation and challenge – affirmation and rebuke – and in this way leads us on the best path?
As my friend Mark Carey puts it, “The core discipline of the Christian life is hearing Jesus’ voice.” Because this is the means by which we receive the revelation which enables us to embrace restraint.
So, what have you heard Jesus say to you today, as you have read his Word?
As you have poured out your life in worship?
As you have brought to him your petitions in prayer?
As you have engaged in intentional conversation with others, who are walking alongside you?
(Proverbs 29:18)
“The core discipline of the Christian life is hearing Jesus’ voice.” (Mark Carey)
I’ve been paying half-attention to the early rounds of The X Factor over recent weeks. Of the tens of thousands of people who turn up at the auditions, hoping to impress the judges, there are two frustrating trends year after year:
those who have no singing ability whatsoever, but who will not take constructive criticism from the judges – the hard truth – because their family and friends have told them that they are fantastic, and should follow their dream;
and
those who clearly have a fantastic voice, but have absolutely no confidence, because they have been told – explicitly by individuals, or implicitly by the wider community, or both – that they will never amount to anything.
Who do we listen to?
Those who will tell us only what we want to hear?
Those who will tell us only what we don’t want to hear?
Or Jesus – who, day by day, will tell us what we need to hear?
Those who won’t hold out challenge where challenge is required in order for us to move forward, on a more fitting path (a course of action that is a better fit for us)?
Those who won’t hold out invitation where invitation is required in order for us to move forward, on the most fitting path?
Or Jesus – who extends invitation and challenge – affirmation and rebuke – and in this way leads us on the best path?
As my friend Mark Carey puts it, “The core discipline of the Christian life is hearing Jesus’ voice.” Because this is the means by which we receive the revelation which enables us to embrace restraint.
So, what have you heard Jesus say to you today, as you have read his Word?
As you have poured out your life in worship?
As you have brought to him your petitions in prayer?
As you have engaged in intentional conversation with others, who are walking alongside you?
Revelation : Restraint : Living
“Discipline your children, and they will give you peace; they will bring you the delights you desire.
“Where there is no revelation, people cast off restraint; but blessed are those who heed wisdom’s instruction.”
(Proverbs 29:17, 18)
restrain: check or hold in; keep in check, under control, or within bounds.
restraint : being restrained; restraining agency or influence; self-control.
(The Oxford Dictionary of Current English)
“The core discipline of the Christian life is hearing Jesus’ voice.” (Mark Carey)
Arguably the most significant work of childhood and adolescence is undertaking the journey of self-discovery. I don’t mean this in a self-indulgent way – we can only ever truly discover who we are grounded in our relationships with others, with the earth we share and the wider creation which shares it with us, and ultimately with the God who created us all. But – precisely because we were created, because we are not an accident of blind and indifferent forces – we have a need to discover ourselves, in order to fulfil our destiny.
When I look at anyone who has done something noteworthy with their life (whether that thing is acted out in the public spotlight or without any fanfare whatsoever; whether they become a celebrity because of what they do, or the extraordinary ordinary men and women whose funerals I take) I see a pattern of
identifying a convergence of passion and gifting, and
investing in that, at the expense of other possibilities:
a pattern of
knowing who they are and what they want to do
and making decisions that work with that, rather than work against that:
a pattern of revelation and restraint.
Conversely, whenever anyone has done nothing noteworthy with their life (and it is possible to do nothing noteworthy with your life), there is an underlying pattern or patterns of failing to identify passion and gifting, and/or not being able to invest in that; of passivity, and of making poor decisions.
Lives lived with an appreciation of revelation and restraint not only fulfil their own potential; they inspire others too. They inspire others to live with revelation and restraint (and so, in turn, live lives that are inspirational).
It is revelation that sets the boundaries for restraint. Without restraint, we are directionless, aimlessly wandering, drifting through life as it moves around and past us. With the right restraint, we are enabled to pursue the thing we were made for – including relationships, both those relationships that will support us and those relationships where we will support another person.
But restraint is not a fixed thing, or not entirely anyway. The boundaries need to be readjusted from time to time, as we grow – just as an exoskeleton must be shed and replaced with growth. Which is why we need to continue to hear revelation, in order to respond: so that the restraint remains a thing which gives freedom, rather than becomes confining.
Where do we go for revelation?
It is possible to get revelation by the sheer providential grace of God. Many do. But for those who choose to follow Jesus, there is something more: for he has promised that, as sheep hear and recognise the voice of their shepherd, so we hear his voice, his leading.
That being both his will and his provision for us, why would we choose to try to figure out life on our own?
Or why would we think that having a sense of vocation – of knowing who you are and what you are to do – would be for the exceptional few?
“Where there is no revelation, people cast off restraint; but blessed are those who heed wisdom’s instruction.”
(Proverbs 29:17, 18)
restrain: check or hold in; keep in check, under control, or within bounds.
restraint : being restrained; restraining agency or influence; self-control.
(The Oxford Dictionary of Current English)
“The core discipline of the Christian life is hearing Jesus’ voice.” (Mark Carey)
Arguably the most significant work of childhood and adolescence is undertaking the journey of self-discovery. I don’t mean this in a self-indulgent way – we can only ever truly discover who we are grounded in our relationships with others, with the earth we share and the wider creation which shares it with us, and ultimately with the God who created us all. But – precisely because we were created, because we are not an accident of blind and indifferent forces – we have a need to discover ourselves, in order to fulfil our destiny.
When I look at anyone who has done something noteworthy with their life (whether that thing is acted out in the public spotlight or without any fanfare whatsoever; whether they become a celebrity because of what they do, or the extraordinary ordinary men and women whose funerals I take) I see a pattern of
identifying a convergence of passion and gifting, and
investing in that, at the expense of other possibilities:
a pattern of
knowing who they are and what they want to do
and making decisions that work with that, rather than work against that:
a pattern of revelation and restraint.
Conversely, whenever anyone has done nothing noteworthy with their life (and it is possible to do nothing noteworthy with your life), there is an underlying pattern or patterns of failing to identify passion and gifting, and/or not being able to invest in that; of passivity, and of making poor decisions.
Lives lived with an appreciation of revelation and restraint not only fulfil their own potential; they inspire others too. They inspire others to live with revelation and restraint (and so, in turn, live lives that are inspirational).
It is revelation that sets the boundaries for restraint. Without restraint, we are directionless, aimlessly wandering, drifting through life as it moves around and past us. With the right restraint, we are enabled to pursue the thing we were made for – including relationships, both those relationships that will support us and those relationships where we will support another person.
But restraint is not a fixed thing, or not entirely anyway. The boundaries need to be readjusted from time to time, as we grow – just as an exoskeleton must be shed and replaced with growth. Which is why we need to continue to hear revelation, in order to respond: so that the restraint remains a thing which gives freedom, rather than becomes confining.
Where do we go for revelation?
It is possible to get revelation by the sheer providential grace of God. Many do. But for those who choose to follow Jesus, there is something more: for he has promised that, as sheep hear and recognise the voice of their shepherd, so we hear his voice, his leading.
That being both his will and his provision for us, why would we choose to try to figure out life on our own?
Or why would we think that having a sense of vocation – of knowing who you are and what you are to do – would be for the exceptional few?
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Pursue Irrelevance : Part 2
Pursue irrelevance.
Why?
Pursue irrelevance, because irrelevance reveals the limits of relevance.
Consider this image of a glass of cola.
The background is irrelevant. But without it we would not be able to visualise the subject – think of children’s drawings, which have lines around things, where those lines do not exist in reality. We would have no depth of vision, necessary for navigating a three-dimensional world - to pick up the glass and drink - as well as to see a three-dimensional object in a two-dimensional image.
Marshall McLuhan noted that:
“Today we live invested with an electronic information environment that is quite as imperceptible to us as water is to a fish”
“the role of the artist is to create an Anti-environment as a means of perception and adjustment”
“Without an anti-environment, all environments are invisible”
We might equally say:
“Today [indeed, in every age] we live invested with an ideological environment that is quite as imperceptible to us as water is to a fish”
A shared worldview ˗ an agreed set labelled ‘relevance’ – that we are not able to question, without the contribution of the artist who pursues irrelevance.
It is not that what is considered relevant is entirely mistaken, by any means; but that it is routinely mistaken for being without limit.
It is the ship’s crew that is prepared to undertake the irrelevant voyage west to the east that reveals the limit of the relevance of the day – not only moving us towards the realization that the world is not flat, but also rediscovering a forgotten continent on the way...
It bothers me deeply that churches invest so much time and energy in the attempt to be relevant to people who declare that the church is irrelevant to their lives. It is a council of despair: a choosing to conform to, to exist within the status quo rather than question and disturb.
The more relevant the church becomes, the more invisible it will be.
By actually seeking to be relevant we choose to condemn society to having less depth-of-vision, to being increasingly two-dimensional in its experience of life. For in the absence of irrelevance there is no means to interrogate the value of those things we deem relevant: does this relevant belief or activity heal us or harm us as a society?
Instead, we must commit ourselves to engaged irrelevance.
That is, active involvement in the world as artists, creating an anti-environment to every environment.
The world (certainly, as revealed in Scripture) is not black and white. It is full of colour (or, paradoxes). But the relevance of black needs the irrelevance of white...
the relevance of white needs the irrelevance of black...
the relevance of red needs the irrelevance of green...
the relevance of green needs the irrelevance of red...
the relevance of yellow needs the irrelevance of blue...
the relevance of blue needs the irrelevance of yellow.
Whatever the environment, we must create an anti-environment, as a gift to the world, to help our society perceive and adjust its limits.
In environments where children or those with dark skin or women are commodities, tools for profit, Christians have played and still play key roles in creating anti-environments. Men and women of ‘great promise’ (i.e. could have been incredibly relevant) gave everything up and give everything up for the sake of irrelevance.
In an aggressively atheistic environment, belief in God provides the contrast by which atheism can discover itself, and be discovered: its positives, its negatives, its limits.
In a sexually disoriented environment, the church paints an anti-environment (and generates much internal debate as to whether the church ought to pursue relevance or irrelevance - debate which is considered nonsensical, immoral even, by a wider society that can only see relevance, which has no value for irrelevance).
Irrelevance has no recognition in its day, but changes the world in its time.
Ask Vincent van Gogh (a brilliant, passionate preacher-turned-painter – o that God had more like him).
Pursue irrelevance, though you are called mad by all; though, indeed, mad you may be, or may become.
It is not that irrelevance is better than relevance: just that it is in far shorter supply, an undervalued but essential requirement. In pursuing irrelevance we ought not to forget that today’s irrelevance may very well (almost inevitably) become tomorrow’s relevance; will require, in turn, another irrelevance to reveal its limits. That is why the call to abandon ourselves to a thoroughly engaged thoroughly irrelevant irrelevance will always be the call on the Church, through every generation and culture. Pursue irrelevance.
Why?
Pursue irrelevance, because irrelevance reveals the limits of relevance.
Consider this image of a glass of cola.
The background is irrelevant. But without it we would not be able to visualise the subject – think of children’s drawings, which have lines around things, where those lines do not exist in reality. We would have no depth of vision, necessary for navigating a three-dimensional world - to pick up the glass and drink - as well as to see a three-dimensional object in a two-dimensional image.
Marshall McLuhan noted that:
“Today we live invested with an electronic information environment that is quite as imperceptible to us as water is to a fish”
“the role of the artist is to create an Anti-environment as a means of perception and adjustment”
“Without an anti-environment, all environments are invisible”
We might equally say:
“Today [indeed, in every age] we live invested with an ideological environment that is quite as imperceptible to us as water is to a fish”
A shared worldview ˗ an agreed set labelled ‘relevance’ – that we are not able to question, without the contribution of the artist who pursues irrelevance.
It is not that what is considered relevant is entirely mistaken, by any means; but that it is routinely mistaken for being without limit.
It is the ship’s crew that is prepared to undertake the irrelevant voyage west to the east that reveals the limit of the relevance of the day – not only moving us towards the realization that the world is not flat, but also rediscovering a forgotten continent on the way...
It bothers me deeply that churches invest so much time and energy in the attempt to be relevant to people who declare that the church is irrelevant to their lives. It is a council of despair: a choosing to conform to, to exist within the status quo rather than question and disturb.
The more relevant the church becomes, the more invisible it will be.
By actually seeking to be relevant we choose to condemn society to having less depth-of-vision, to being increasingly two-dimensional in its experience of life. For in the absence of irrelevance there is no means to interrogate the value of those things we deem relevant: does this relevant belief or activity heal us or harm us as a society?
Instead, we must commit ourselves to engaged irrelevance.
That is, active involvement in the world as artists, creating an anti-environment to every environment.
The world (certainly, as revealed in Scripture) is not black and white. It is full of colour (or, paradoxes). But the relevance of black needs the irrelevance of white...
the relevance of white needs the irrelevance of black...
the relevance of red needs the irrelevance of green...
the relevance of green needs the irrelevance of red...
the relevance of yellow needs the irrelevance of blue...
the relevance of blue needs the irrelevance of yellow.
Whatever the environment, we must create an anti-environment, as a gift to the world, to help our society perceive and adjust its limits.
In environments where children or those with dark skin or women are commodities, tools for profit, Christians have played and still play key roles in creating anti-environments. Men and women of ‘great promise’ (i.e. could have been incredibly relevant) gave everything up and give everything up for the sake of irrelevance.
In an aggressively atheistic environment, belief in God provides the contrast by which atheism can discover itself, and be discovered: its positives, its negatives, its limits.
In a sexually disoriented environment, the church paints an anti-environment (and generates much internal debate as to whether the church ought to pursue relevance or irrelevance - debate which is considered nonsensical, immoral even, by a wider society that can only see relevance, which has no value for irrelevance).
Irrelevance has no recognition in its day, but changes the world in its time.
Ask Vincent van Gogh (a brilliant, passionate preacher-turned-painter – o that God had more like him).
Pursue irrelevance, though you are called mad by all; though, indeed, mad you may be, or may become.
It is not that irrelevance is better than relevance: just that it is in far shorter supply, an undervalued but essential requirement. In pursuing irrelevance we ought not to forget that today’s irrelevance may very well (almost inevitably) become tomorrow’s relevance; will require, in turn, another irrelevance to reveal its limits. That is why the call to abandon ourselves to a thoroughly engaged thoroughly irrelevant irrelevance will always be the call on the Church, through every generation and culture. Pursue irrelevance.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
A Scar On The Face Of The Earth
Why does God call Abraham – the father of faith – into a life of journeying through the wilderness?
Why does God meet Moses, the former prince-of-Egypt, after forty years in the wilderness...
and call him to lead his people through the wilderness for a generation...
before giving them a land that is, for the most part, wilderness?
Why does David, the celebrated giant-slayer, spend some thirteen years in the wilderness?
Why does Paul, the most brilliant scholar of his generation, spend some fourteen years in the wilderness?
Why does Jesus – the author and perfector of our faith – spend forty days and nights in the wilderness?
Why is God so obsessed with the wilderness?
What is he looking for?
And why are we so reluctant to share his passion?
Why does God meet Moses, the former prince-of-Egypt, after forty years in the wilderness...
and call him to lead his people through the wilderness for a generation...
before giving them a land that is, for the most part, wilderness?
Why does David, the celebrated giant-slayer, spend some thirteen years in the wilderness?
Why does Paul, the most brilliant scholar of his generation, spend some fourteen years in the wilderness?
Why does Jesus – the author and perfector of our faith – spend forty days and nights in the wilderness?
Why is God so obsessed with the wilderness?
What is he looking for?
And why are we so reluctant to share his passion?
Covenant : Identity And Obedience
(Or, indirect reflections on Romans chapters 5-11)
A covenant is an agreement between two persons, which results in a new identity and – where covenant is faithfully kept – a new way of relating to those around the covenant partners.
The most accessible example for many of us today is marriage. At their wedding two people make covenantal declarations; and exchange rings, as an ongoing public sign of that covenant.
The promises made declare their intention (or, will) to live out the implications of their covenant, in relation to the ever-changing variables of circumstances and of relationships within the wider community.
At the giving of the rings each party gives their innermost identity – “all that I am” – and the outward expressions of that identity – “all that I have” – to the other, to be held as one entity, something new that previously did not exist.
This is a deep truth, but it is not a magic spell: the two parties must continue to exercise their own will to live out being one common entity; as opposed to continuing to live, or reverting to live, as autonomous parties. If this becomes easier – and that is by no means guaranteed - it most often does so by tiny incremental degrees over a great deal of time.
God is looking to enter into covenant relationship with humans: to share himself, to be known, to be enjoyed, to stand alongside us. Unlike marriage, however, this is not a covenant between equals. This covenant:
is grounded in the person of God...
initiates a new identity for us...
and has its outworking in actions which are consistent with – or faithful or obedient to – that new one entity.
The staggering, frightening thing is that God is faithful even when we are not faithful.
Jesus’ baptism is a public entering-into covenant. God offers himself as Father, and, grounded in that, Jesus receives his identity as Son.
Jesus is the Son of God. This cannot be revoked, changed, undone. But at this point the question remains to be seen: What kind of son will Jesus be?
What will he do with this identity? You see, Adam was the son of God, something never revoked; but Adam did not express that identity in obedience...
Immediately Jesus comes up out of the Jordan river, the Holy Spirit drives him into the wilderness. He spends the next forty days and forty nights alone, clinging to the side of the deepest rift valley on earth, almost sheer cliffs which rise up from where the Jordan empties into the Dead Sea, the lowest point on the face of the earth. And then he is tested, by the one who ensnared Adam. What kind of son will Jesus be?
Will he use his identity to feed his own physical appetites?
Will he use his identity to force others to acknowledge his authority over them?
Will he use his identity to establish himself as a celebrity?
(At the end of the day, in one form or another, it comes down to physical appetites, power, and money, time and time again...)
And what of us?
There is a matter of identity; and then there is a matter of obedience - by which I do not mean subservience to rules enforced over us, but living consistent to our identity, living with integrity, living in harmony with what we have become: not the outward obedience of a dog trained to fetch to command, but the inner obedience to doggy-ness that causes dogs to fetch things – an innate characteristic which, of course, can be shaped by discipline.
God invites us to enter into covenant relationship with God. The Bible employs many pictures to describe this:
children of a heavenly Father;
sons of God (‘sons’ being gender-inclusive, because our identity here is in being one with Jesus, the Son);
the very body of Christ;
the church as the bride of Christ (‘bride’ being gender-inclusive, because our corporate identity is being described in relation to Jesus, the bridegroom).
Within that covenant, we discover more and more of the person of God, and our identity in relation to that revelation:
God is our provider...therefore, we are those whose needs are provided for...
...and therefore, we are called to be those who provide for others, out of the resources of heaven. That is an example of living in obedience to our God-grounded identity.
God is gracious: that is, gives good gifts that are unearned, undeserved. We experience grace...and extend grace to others. God is merciful: that is, does not mete out deserved punishment. We experience mercy...and extend mercy to others. That is consistent, obedient behaviour.
The question is: what sort of son will we be?
Will we use our identity – which, once given, cannot be taken back – to feed our appetites; to control others; or to live in wealth, both material and of reputation?
Or will we embrace the wilderness, and there, alone, watched only by angels and wild animals, put to agonising death these desires within us?
Because those desires are within us, within every one of us...And unless they are put to death, we might do many great things, genuinely great-and-of-God things* but, sooner or later, we will be a danger to others and to ourselves.
Many Christians believe that if only they were more obedient, more faithful, God would entrust them with greater power. This is not true: in fact, it is legalism: seeking to earn God’s approval. The reality is that it is the other way around: it is the power of God within us that enables us to obey. This power – the very Spirit of God, the same Spirit who raised Jesus from death - is already within us, the consequence of covenant.
Many other Christians recognise that identity is not conditional on obedience, and so believe that obedience is inconsequential. But while obedience is, indeed, utterly – terrifyingly - inconsequential to our identity, obedience and disobedience each have profound consequences for the extent to which we can both experience for ourselves and hold out to others the freedom of life in its fullness.
These apparently opposing misconceptions are both exacerbated among charismatic evangelicals by the current emphasis on the kingdom of heaven, divorced from an equal emphasis on covenant.
Obedience earns nothing; but expresses everything:
the extent to which we have understood who we truly now are;
the extent to which we have left behind, in the howling wilderness, the carrion-stripped sun-bleached bones of who we once were...
*This is why we see, all too often, examples of ministers who have behaved scandalously still exercising miraculous power. This is also why, from an Anglican perspective, the efficacy of the sacrament of Holy Communion is not impaired by the wickedness of a priest. But it is also true of any child of God.
A covenant is an agreement between two persons, which results in a new identity and – where covenant is faithfully kept – a new way of relating to those around the covenant partners.
The most accessible example for many of us today is marriage. At their wedding two people make covenantal declarations; and exchange rings, as an ongoing public sign of that covenant.
The promises made declare their intention (or, will) to live out the implications of their covenant, in relation to the ever-changing variables of circumstances and of relationships within the wider community.
At the giving of the rings each party gives their innermost identity – “all that I am” – and the outward expressions of that identity – “all that I have” – to the other, to be held as one entity, something new that previously did not exist.
This is a deep truth, but it is not a magic spell: the two parties must continue to exercise their own will to live out being one common entity; as opposed to continuing to live, or reverting to live, as autonomous parties. If this becomes easier – and that is by no means guaranteed - it most often does so by tiny incremental degrees over a great deal of time.
God is looking to enter into covenant relationship with humans: to share himself, to be known, to be enjoyed, to stand alongside us. Unlike marriage, however, this is not a covenant between equals. This covenant:
is grounded in the person of God...
initiates a new identity for us...
and has its outworking in actions which are consistent with – or faithful or obedient to – that new one entity.
The staggering, frightening thing is that God is faithful even when we are not faithful.
Jesus’ baptism is a public entering-into covenant. God offers himself as Father, and, grounded in that, Jesus receives his identity as Son.
Jesus is the Son of God. This cannot be revoked, changed, undone. But at this point the question remains to be seen: What kind of son will Jesus be?
What will he do with this identity? You see, Adam was the son of God, something never revoked; but Adam did not express that identity in obedience...
Immediately Jesus comes up out of the Jordan river, the Holy Spirit drives him into the wilderness. He spends the next forty days and forty nights alone, clinging to the side of the deepest rift valley on earth, almost sheer cliffs which rise up from where the Jordan empties into the Dead Sea, the lowest point on the face of the earth. And then he is tested, by the one who ensnared Adam. What kind of son will Jesus be?
Will he use his identity to feed his own physical appetites?
Will he use his identity to force others to acknowledge his authority over them?
Will he use his identity to establish himself as a celebrity?
(At the end of the day, in one form or another, it comes down to physical appetites, power, and money, time and time again...)
And what of us?
There is a matter of identity; and then there is a matter of obedience - by which I do not mean subservience to rules enforced over us, but living consistent to our identity, living with integrity, living in harmony with what we have become: not the outward obedience of a dog trained to fetch to command, but the inner obedience to doggy-ness that causes dogs to fetch things – an innate characteristic which, of course, can be shaped by discipline.
God invites us to enter into covenant relationship with God. The Bible employs many pictures to describe this:
children of a heavenly Father;
sons of God (‘sons’ being gender-inclusive, because our identity here is in being one with Jesus, the Son);
the very body of Christ;
the church as the bride of Christ (‘bride’ being gender-inclusive, because our corporate identity is being described in relation to Jesus, the bridegroom).
Within that covenant, we discover more and more of the person of God, and our identity in relation to that revelation:
God is our provider...therefore, we are those whose needs are provided for...
...and therefore, we are called to be those who provide for others, out of the resources of heaven. That is an example of living in obedience to our God-grounded identity.
God is gracious: that is, gives good gifts that are unearned, undeserved. We experience grace...and extend grace to others. God is merciful: that is, does not mete out deserved punishment. We experience mercy...and extend mercy to others. That is consistent, obedient behaviour.
The question is: what sort of son will we be?
Will we use our identity – which, once given, cannot be taken back – to feed our appetites; to control others; or to live in wealth, both material and of reputation?
Or will we embrace the wilderness, and there, alone, watched only by angels and wild animals, put to agonising death these desires within us?
Because those desires are within us, within every one of us...And unless they are put to death, we might do many great things, genuinely great-and-of-God things* but, sooner or later, we will be a danger to others and to ourselves.
Many Christians believe that if only they were more obedient, more faithful, God would entrust them with greater power. This is not true: in fact, it is legalism: seeking to earn God’s approval. The reality is that it is the other way around: it is the power of God within us that enables us to obey. This power – the very Spirit of God, the same Spirit who raised Jesus from death - is already within us, the consequence of covenant.
Many other Christians recognise that identity is not conditional on obedience, and so believe that obedience is inconsequential. But while obedience is, indeed, utterly – terrifyingly - inconsequential to our identity, obedience and disobedience each have profound consequences for the extent to which we can both experience for ourselves and hold out to others the freedom of life in its fullness.
These apparently opposing misconceptions are both exacerbated among charismatic evangelicals by the current emphasis on the kingdom of heaven, divorced from an equal emphasis on covenant.
Obedience earns nothing; but expresses everything:
the extent to which we have understood who we truly now are;
the extent to which we have left behind, in the howling wilderness, the carrion-stripped sun-bleached bones of who we once were...
*This is why we see, all too often, examples of ministers who have behaved scandalously still exercising miraculous power. This is also why, from an Anglican perspective, the efficacy of the sacrament of Holy Communion is not impaired by the wickedness of a priest. But it is also true of any child of God.
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