"Can a man who is warm understand a man who is freezing?" (Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn)
I read this quote in "The Week" and it's really messing with me. I mean I just can't shake it off. I think it's supposed to say something about how we relate to others and maybe the Incarnation but I don't know what.....
Friday, 11 March 2011
Saturday, 12 February 2011
Why your church doesn’t feel like family
This is vintage Mark Driscoll....
Do you ever feel like you're a bit neglected at church, like you're not quite at ease, like it's not really connecting with you, like it's not....well....family? Watch this clip and prepare to be challenged about your attitude towards and expectations of church. What will it take for church to be like family.....
http://tiny.cc/icw68
Do you ever feel like you're a bit neglected at church, like you're not quite at ease, like it's not really connecting with you, like it's not....well....family? Watch this clip and prepare to be challenged about your attitude towards and expectations of church. What will it take for church to be like family.....
http://tiny.cc/icw68
Thursday, 10 February 2011
Large Sails and Little Ballast
Large spiritual passion with small doctrinal understanding is large sails and tall masts on a tiny boat in high winds. It will dart wildly over the surface for a hundred yards. Then one wave, or one crosswind, will bring it all crashing into the unforgiving sea.
Give as much attention to enlarging the depth of your ballast as you do to the height of your sails.
Of course, if you are a sixty-ton flat-surfaced barge, with a broken engine, pray for God to give you sails and wind. (John Piper)
Give as much attention to enlarging the depth of your ballast as you do to the height of your sails.
Of course, if you are a sixty-ton flat-surfaced barge, with a broken engine, pray for God to give you sails and wind. (John Piper)
Tuesday, 8 February 2011
This is Your Moment!
My family went to listen to the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra on Saturday night. We'd got the best seats in the house, it was the business! We’d never seen anything like it - truly awesome. But, we soooooooo nearly missed it.....
There I am, it's midday and I’m going through the in-tray trying to figure out what bits of household admin need to be actioned and what can be left for another week. Then I come across these tickets......the tickets I’d bought six months ago for a BSO concert at the Pavilion. Long-story-short, I had to do a bit of a selling job to convince everyone that this would, in fact, be a great thing to do even though one of them had booked to go on a sleep over that night (Louise was disappointed but she’ll get to do it again).
So we get there and the whole thing is astonishing. So much of it was captivating but one thing totally caught my attention; the percussionists (of which there were half a dozen.) I couldn’t help but do something of a time-and-motion study to work out whether all of them were, actually, needed on stage at the same time. I came to realise though that there were certain times when you definitely did need them all, even if it was for but a brief moment.
There was this one guy who had what looked like a child’s rattle with bells on and every now and then he'd pick it up and give it a little shake; if you’d blinked you’d have miss it. That was it, his moment! He might have pinged the triangle as well at one point but this was basically it; the rattle and the triangle.
The interesting thing was that this was why he was on the stage in his tail suit dressed all dressed up to the nines. This was his moment. If he wasn’t aware, if he wasn’t concentrating he’d have missed it. The conductor points at him with his little pointy-stick thing ("baton") to draw him in but he needed to be watching. "This is it buddy, this is your moment, you're on. Do your thing. Here it is!" And he did do his thing. And then it was over.
The Bible says that our one and only life is but a vapour, it’s but a mist (James 4:14) and it also says we’re God's masterpiece, created to do (or to perform) good works (Ephesians 2:10). And so in our one and only life, for which there is no dress rehearsal, it’s our moment, it's our turn. God is pointing to us and He’s calling us to look to Him, to trust Him, to find our satisfaction and joy in him.
The whole of our life is like the percussion player with the little rattle and in the light of eternity it’s even shorter than his momentary interjection. The whole of heaven is on the edge of its seat, leaning forward with bated breath saying "Do your thing, this is it, this is your moment, trust Him, look to Him, seek Him". And every time we do, every time we choose to believe the truth about the Lord Jesus, that He loves us, that He's enough for us, that our joy can found in Him...then this wonderful masterpiece is shown and the composer’s work is shown in all its glory and fullness and all those listening think "Wow, that composer’s amazing!"
In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven. Matthew 5:16
There I am, it's midday and I’m going through the in-tray trying to figure out what bits of household admin need to be actioned and what can be left for another week. Then I come across these tickets......the tickets I’d bought six months ago for a BSO concert at the Pavilion. Long-story-short, I had to do a bit of a selling job to convince everyone that this would, in fact, be a great thing to do even though one of them had booked to go on a sleep over that night (Louise was disappointed but she’ll get to do it again).
So we get there and the whole thing is astonishing. So much of it was captivating but one thing totally caught my attention; the percussionists (of which there were half a dozen.) I couldn’t help but do something of a time-and-motion study to work out whether all of them were, actually, needed on stage at the same time. I came to realise though that there were certain times when you definitely did need them all, even if it was for but a brief moment.
There was this one guy who had what looked like a child’s rattle with bells on and every now and then he'd pick it up and give it a little shake; if you’d blinked you’d have miss it. That was it, his moment! He might have pinged the triangle as well at one point but this was basically it; the rattle and the triangle.
The interesting thing was that this was why he was on the stage in his tail suit dressed all dressed up to the nines. This was his moment. If he wasn’t aware, if he wasn’t concentrating he’d have missed it. The conductor points at him with his little pointy-stick thing ("baton") to draw him in but he needed to be watching. "This is it buddy, this is your moment, you're on. Do your thing. Here it is!" And he did do his thing. And then it was over.
The Bible says that our one and only life is but a vapour, it’s but a mist (James 4:14) and it also says we’re God's masterpiece, created to do (or to perform) good works (Ephesians 2:10). And so in our one and only life, for which there is no dress rehearsal, it’s our moment, it's our turn. God is pointing to us and He’s calling us to look to Him, to trust Him, to find our satisfaction and joy in him.
The whole of our life is like the percussion player with the little rattle and in the light of eternity it’s even shorter than his momentary interjection. The whole of heaven is on the edge of its seat, leaning forward with bated breath saying "Do your thing, this is it, this is your moment, trust Him, look to Him, seek Him". And every time we do, every time we choose to believe the truth about the Lord Jesus, that He loves us, that He's enough for us, that our joy can found in Him...then this wonderful masterpiece is shown and the composer’s work is shown in all its glory and fullness and all those listening think "Wow, that composer’s amazing!"
In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven. Matthew 5:16
Thursday, 27 January 2011
Call It What You Will
I love this.....forwarded by my friend Tim, a Calvinist pastor in the Arminian Salvation Army (now that's a tough gig!)
We are Christians. Radical, full-blooded, Bible-saturated, Christ-exalting, God-centered, mission-advancing, soul-winning, church-loving, holiness-pursing, sovereignty-savoring, grace-besotted, broken-hearted, happy followers of the omnipotent, crucified Christ. At least that’s our imperfect commitment.
In other words, we are Calvinists.
But that label is not nearly as useful as telling people what you actually believe! So forget the label, if it helps, and tell them clearly, without evasion or ambiguity, what you believe about salvation. If they say, “Are you a Calvinist?” say, “You decide. Here is what I believe . . .”
I believe I am so spiritually corrupt and prideful and rebellious that I would never have come to faith in Jesus without God’s merciful, sovereign victory over the last vestiges of my rebellion. (1 Corinthians 2:14; Ephesians 3:1–4; Romans 8:7).
I believe that God chose me to be his child before the foundation of the world, on the basis of nothing in me, foreknown or otherwise. (Ephesians 1:4–6; Acts 13:48; Romans 8:29–30; 11:5–7)
I believe Christ died as a substitute for sinners to provide a bona fide offer of salvation to all people, and that he had an invincible design in his death to obtain his chosen bride, namely, the assembly of all believers, whose names were eternally written in the book of life of the Lamb that was slain. (John 3:16; John 10:15; Ephesians 5:25; Revelation 13:8)
When I was dead in my trespasses, and blind to the beauty of Christ, God made me alive, opened the eyes of my heart, granted me to believe, and united me to Jesus, with all the benefits of forgiveness and justification and eternal life. (Ephesians 2:4–5; 2 Corinthians 4:6; Philippians 2:29; Ephesians 2:8–9; Acts 16:14; Ephesians 1:7; Philippians 3:9)
I am eternally secure not mainly because of anything I did in the past, but decisively because God is faithful to complete the work he began—to sustain my faith, and to keep me from apostasy, and to hold me back from sin that leads to death. (1 Corinthians 1:8–9; 1 Thessalonians 5:23–24; Philippians 1:6; 1 Peter 1:5; Jude 1:25; John 10:28–29; 1 John 5:16)
Call it what you will, this is my life. I believe it because I see it in the Bible. And because I have experienced it. Everlasting praise to the greatness of the glory of the grace of God!
We are Christians. Radical, full-blooded, Bible-saturated, Christ-exalting, God-centered, mission-advancing, soul-winning, church-loving, holiness-pursing, sovereignty-savoring, grace-besotted, broken-hearted, happy followers of the omnipotent, crucified Christ. At least that’s our imperfect commitment.
In other words, we are Calvinists.
But that label is not nearly as useful as telling people what you actually believe! So forget the label, if it helps, and tell them clearly, without evasion or ambiguity, what you believe about salvation. If they say, “Are you a Calvinist?” say, “You decide. Here is what I believe . . .”
I believe I am so spiritually corrupt and prideful and rebellious that I would never have come to faith in Jesus without God’s merciful, sovereign victory over the last vestiges of my rebellion. (1 Corinthians 2:14; Ephesians 3:1–4; Romans 8:7).
I believe that God chose me to be his child before the foundation of the world, on the basis of nothing in me, foreknown or otherwise. (Ephesians 1:4–6; Acts 13:48; Romans 8:29–30; 11:5–7)
I believe Christ died as a substitute for sinners to provide a bona fide offer of salvation to all people, and that he had an invincible design in his death to obtain his chosen bride, namely, the assembly of all believers, whose names were eternally written in the book of life of the Lamb that was slain. (John 3:16; John 10:15; Ephesians 5:25; Revelation 13:8)
When I was dead in my trespasses, and blind to the beauty of Christ, God made me alive, opened the eyes of my heart, granted me to believe, and united me to Jesus, with all the benefits of forgiveness and justification and eternal life. (Ephesians 2:4–5; 2 Corinthians 4:6; Philippians 2:29; Ephesians 2:8–9; Acts 16:14; Ephesians 1:7; Philippians 3:9)
I am eternally secure not mainly because of anything I did in the past, but decisively because God is faithful to complete the work he began—to sustain my faith, and to keep me from apostasy, and to hold me back from sin that leads to death. (1 Corinthians 1:8–9; 1 Thessalonians 5:23–24; Philippians 1:6; 1 Peter 1:5; Jude 1:25; John 10:28–29; 1 John 5:16)
Call it what you will, this is my life. I believe it because I see it in the Bible. And because I have experienced it. Everlasting praise to the greatness of the glory of the grace of God!
Wednesday, 26 January 2011
Accountability is Overated
Accountability is overrated. It really is.
I used to bang on about how the antidote to all manner of vices was to have people around us. Don't be isolated. Have friends. Meet with them often. Talk about what's going on in your life.
Now I see things differently.
Over the last few years pretty much all the people I've known who have found themselves in, well, let's just say "trouble" (and I've known a lot of people in this category) have been those who would be described as being in "accountable relationships".
So, my conclusion....having "accountability" doesn't work. People still make ridiculous choices that shipwreck their lives and those of others. It doesn't work.
At least, it doesn't work the way we naively thought it would.
The fact is that we're only as accountable as we want to be.
We can share "what's going on for us" and still not say what's really going on. We can ask one another how things are and simply assume that the asking of the question is sufficient knowing that if we leave it at just "asking", others will do the same for us. Don't really ask, don't really tell.
I mean, let me ask you: When was the last time you took a risk in the information you disclosed to someone you would say you were "accountable to"? Or do you always play it safe, not risking yourself or the relationship? If you're not....chances are you're playing at accountability. And it's a dangerous game. You look like your back is covered but in reality it's totally exposed.
It might be worth doing some reflection on this.
Who do we have in our lives who we know, love and trust (and who know, love and trust us enough) to say the things we desperately need to hear? To what extent are we deepening, and investing in these relationships by an ever-more bold (brave, daring, audacious, courageous) disclosure of our shadow-side?
I used to bang on about how the antidote to all manner of vices was to have people around us. Don't be isolated. Have friends. Meet with them often. Talk about what's going on in your life.
Now I see things differently.
Over the last few years pretty much all the people I've known who have found themselves in, well, let's just say "trouble" (and I've known a lot of people in this category) have been those who would be described as being in "accountable relationships".
So, my conclusion....having "accountability" doesn't work. People still make ridiculous choices that shipwreck their lives and those of others. It doesn't work.
At least, it doesn't work the way we naively thought it would.
The fact is that we're only as accountable as we want to be.
We can share "what's going on for us" and still not say what's really going on. We can ask one another how things are and simply assume that the asking of the question is sufficient knowing that if we leave it at just "asking", others will do the same for us. Don't really ask, don't really tell.
I mean, let me ask you: When was the last time you took a risk in the information you disclosed to someone you would say you were "accountable to"? Or do you always play it safe, not risking yourself or the relationship? If you're not....chances are you're playing at accountability. And it's a dangerous game. You look like your back is covered but in reality it's totally exposed.
It might be worth doing some reflection on this.
Who do we have in our lives who we know, love and trust (and who know, love and trust us enough) to say the things we desperately need to hear? To what extent are we deepening, and investing in these relationships by an ever-more bold (brave, daring, audacious, courageous) disclosure of our shadow-side?
Monday, 17 January 2011
PR for God?
It's been a challenging two weeks. Chris' sudden and unexpected death has dominated most of my awake hours...and a few of the others.
I really liked him.
He was my friend.
That doesn't always follow when you're a pastor. (Sorry for the shock that might be for some.) He used to phone me up and ask how I was doing. He prayed for me on the phone. He lent me gardening tools and was gracious when I broke his chainsaw. Come to think of it I still have his petrol strimmer in my garage....
And then there are the questions....and I have so many questions. I say that even as a convinced Calvinist who gets excited, comforted and challenged by stuff like unconditional election and irresistible grace. I say that too as one who doesn't think God owes him anything and certainly not explanations. But I do wonder where he was when Chris most needed him.
I wonder too how to speak about the wonderful God we worship, the Jesus who can meet our deepest needs etc etc, to men and women who at the best of times consider the whole thing to be a load of old nonsense for themselves ("but if it works for you.....oh......it didn't work for you....".) Not easy.
I've felt, wrongly I know, but I have felt like God's PR guy in this, a kind of Max Clifford, who's got to spin the story of how God fell asleep on the job. I guess I'm feeling it becasue the Chris thing has come hard on the heels of a few other issues around the place that have made Jesus and his sufficiency look, well, sub-optimal to say the least.
I don't need to justify God but I sure as heck would like Him to present himself a bit better.
I really liked him.
He was my friend.
That doesn't always follow when you're a pastor. (Sorry for the shock that might be for some.) He used to phone me up and ask how I was doing. He prayed for me on the phone. He lent me gardening tools and was gracious when I broke his chainsaw. Come to think of it I still have his petrol strimmer in my garage....
And then there are the questions....and I have so many questions. I say that even as a convinced Calvinist who gets excited, comforted and challenged by stuff like unconditional election and irresistible grace. I say that too as one who doesn't think God owes him anything and certainly not explanations. But I do wonder where he was when Chris most needed him.
I wonder too how to speak about the wonderful God we worship, the Jesus who can meet our deepest needs etc etc, to men and women who at the best of times consider the whole thing to be a load of old nonsense for themselves ("but if it works for you.....oh......it didn't work for you....".) Not easy.
I've felt, wrongly I know, but I have felt like God's PR guy in this, a kind of Max Clifford, who's got to spin the story of how God fell asleep on the job. I guess I'm feeling it becasue the Chris thing has come hard on the heels of a few other issues around the place that have made Jesus and his sufficiency look, well, sub-optimal to say the least.
I don't need to justify God but I sure as heck would like Him to present himself a bit better.
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