It’s all around us. The shops are selling festive shaped crisps, houses are starting to twinkle and churches and shops are switching to carols and Christmas songs. It can only mean one thing: it’s nearly Christmas!
To some that might lead to a stirring of excitement, for others it’s not quite such a joyful time. However, Christmas is not yet here. It is actually the period of ‘advent’, the period of preparation. Yes, on one hand that means getting in the necessary food, making sure you have all the gifts you want to give, and hanging decorations (if you’re a Christmas person) but it’s also about preparing for the coming of Jesus.
Today is the first Sunday of advent. Despite what the chocolate calendars tell you, advent does not start on December 1st; it starts 4 Sundays before Christmas where some churches will light the candles on an advent wreath, one a week and finish with the centre candle on Christmas day.
It’s a period where the promises of the old testament are remembered, the promises of a saviour, of one who would make a way for us to be with God, one who would be a leader and a shepherd to his people. These promises were fulfilled in the birth of Jesus. Emmanuel, God with us, God taking human form to walk among us, a leader like no other.
Why do I tell you this? Because for me, it is a time to realign with God. Its the start of a new Christian year, so a fresh start from what has been, and a hopeful look at what is to come. I look forward to Christmas and all the celebration it entails, but I do not want to waste the preparation time. And so, for my own benefit (and anyone else who chooses to read along) I will prepare for Jesus, I will realign. Between now and Christmas I shall write some short (and some maybe not so short) reflections on God’s promises and on who God is.
Isaiah 9: 6 says ‘For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.’
As we journey to Christmas, maybe take a bit of time to think. Who is Jesus to you? What title is most appropriate for your relationship with Jesus, for what he has done and who he has been to you this year?
I’ll start. To me, this year in particular, Jesus has been…
On second thoughts, I’ll write that post tomorrow.
Have you ever read or heard something that seems to be exactly the right thing for that moment? Maybe a friend (or stranger) has said something you didn’t know you needed to hear, or you’ve read something that has struck a chord somewhere deep inside. Whichever, something that has brought clarity or comfort.
That happened to me this week. I got told something that I wasn’t expecting, and it knocked me sideways and left me a little uncertain. It wasn’t a comfortable place to be but I wasn’t really sure which way to turn.
I ended my working day as I usually do, going to an evening service of prayer (a fairly new habit that I’ve found helpful) and instead of using the set readings for the day, the person leading the service chose to use the readings set for a different celebration. So out came the bibles (because usually we can just use the app on the phone) and we read through the new readings. One of these readings was one we had read earlier in the week. The psalm was one I’ve read many times and am very familiar with. Admittedly, I was less familiar with the reading fron Isaiah.
Even so, as we were reading them, some things spoke straight to my heart in a way they hadn’t before, and we exactly what I needed to point me back in the right direction, to encourage me to look forwards rather than backwards.
The psalm was psalm 139. Its a good psalm, one I’ve often used for reminding people of how well God knows them and how important they are. But that wasn’t the bit that struck me this time. It was earlier on:
Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there
If I rise on thw wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
Psalm 139: 7-10
David wrote this psalm, the man after God’s own heart, the shepherd boy turned giant slayer turned king. He ran away a lot. He feared for his life and was pursued by an angry king. He also led armies. He knew what he meant when he was writing this: God follows everywhere.
Which was some comfort to me at that moment: it doesn’t matter where I go or where I live, I can never move too far away that God won’t be right there with me.
Then the Isaiah reading:
You have been a refuge for the poor, a refuge for the needy in their distress, a shelter from the storm and a shade from the heat.
Isaiah 25: 4
The answer to the question in my heart, where do I turn now? Oh yeah, to God. Because God has yet to leave me, rather I always get what I need (which isn’t always the same as what I want!) If I look back at some of the hard times, the times that really sucked, the times that sometimes left me wondering where God was, I can look at where I am now and know I am in a better place, not lost in those darker times, and somehow because of those dark times, God has brought about good for me. Sometimes you just have to stop and look, and remember where to place your trust. I know I did after reading that.
And finally, the reading I had read just a couple of days prior
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ
2 Corinthians 1: 3-5
When I read this for the second time, I was once again struck by how it sounds like a student trying to meet a word count, but also found a deeper level of comfort in it. The bible never says we get to live and easy life as Christians. Here it says the complete opposite. I know that some suffer more than others, but here it says ‘in all our troubles’ – not just the worst ones, not comparing them to another’s troubles, but comfort is given in all our troubles. And that so we can comfort others. It’s not wasted, but used for good.
Have you noticed that the sometimes the kindest people, the people who offer the most help and comfort are those who have had it hard? They know, they understand, and they want to help you through it. That’s God. God speaks through his living word (the bible) and through his creation (other people).
It was strange to turn up expecting one set of readings only to have them unexpectedly changed, something that (in my experience at least) doesn’t usually happen.
It was a great comfort to me that day to have readings that said, “don’t worry, I’m here. I always have been and I always will be.” Maybe it was just a coincidence that they were changed. Or maybe…?
I wonder what God’s trying to say to you. Encouragement? Comfort? Direction? Reassurance? Teaching? I can’t answer that one for you, but I can urge you to take note when words land deeper than usually. Take them away, think on them, write them somewhere and come back to them. Because often, when it’s ‘just what you needed to hear’ it’s because God knows what you need.
You can’t disapppoint God. Read that again. Slowly. You. Can’t. Disappoint. God.
Some of you reading that will be thinking, “well, duh! That’s obvious! I already knew that!” If that’s you, you don’t need to read the rest of this post. But some of you will be a bit like me and need to take a little while for that to sink in. Maybe because you’ve never thought about it and just assumed, or maybe because you’re fairly sure you can (and maybe even have) disappoint God.
I remember back to being at school and doing something wrong. I got called into the Deputy-Head’s office (I assume the Head was busy?) and she asked me to tell her what I’d done. And I remember very clearly what she said to me. “I’m not angry with you, just disappointed.” Words that are like an arrow piercing through to the very heart of who I am.
Not angry, just disappointed.
It’s not just teachers. It can be friends or colleagues, or even (maybe especially) family. Maybe they’ve let us know through their words, or maybe more subtly through their actions. And what we experience from the important people around us can easily (if wrongly) be projected onto God.
This came to a head for me recently. Something that had seemed so promising turned out very differently. I felt I should have done better, and in ‘failing’ (for want of a better word) I had disppointed God.
But in the time that followed as I was trying to get back up (and knocking myself down again for being a disappointment) this phrase came up. In fact, it came up three times in just over a week from three seperate people who hadn’t been talking to each other (as far as I’m aware). And when the same phrase comes up multiple times over a short space of time, I tend to sit up and take notice. Often, I find that is how God talks to me when I don’t trust myself.
“You can’t disappoint God” – three different people, three different settings, one message.
One message that at first I didn’t understand, then I struggled to believe, and so one I have wrestled with. If just on person had said it I would have dismissed it as ‘just one of those things Christians say to make you feel better’. But three? In quick succession?
So wrestle I did. I asked people, some of whom agreed and some disagreed. Some people directed me to Samson, the man who was blessed at birth but made all the wrong decisions as he grew up. Surely God was disappointed in him? Or Adam and Eve? God must have been at least a little disappointed when they gave into temptation. David? Slept with another man’s wife then had him murdered to cover it up. James and John, arguing over who would have the beset seat in heaven? Peter denying Jesus in his hour of need? Judas betraying him? For that matter, the people of Israel who turned away from God time and time again? Surely God must have been disappointed at some point?
The others directed me to passages about how God knows us intimately, how God loves us unconditionally, how God has compassion on his people, and how God is all powerful. I looked at the parable of the prodigal son and what that means for those who make questionable decisions.
Having wrestled with this, determined to work it out, I came to a conclusion. Now, you need to bear in mind this is a conclusion reached with no theological training, so you need to come to your own decision.
To disappoint someone means to fail to fulfil their hopes or expectations, or when we thwart their plans. God knows us intimately, he made us, he designed us, he is under no illusions about us – he knows when we will fall as much as he knows when we will fly. So if God knows us that well, he can’t have unrealistic or unfair expectations on us. And that means we can’t fail to live up to them.
And God’s plans cannot be thwarted by us – we’re not that powerful! Sometimes, like a master chess player, God may need to take a different route (like when Jesus couldn’t go into the villages to spread the gospel because someone he had healed told people what he hadd done), but his plans will always come to pass.
If you look in the bible, God is never disappointed. Angry, yes (although it takes a lot to make God angry). Patient, forgiving, compassionate, yes. Grieved, sometimes. But never disappointed. Does it grieve God when we make bad choices? I believe so. But more because God wants the best for us, wants to be in relationship with us, and bad choices on our part won’t give us the best and get in the way of a right relationship with God.
In the parable of the prodigal son, the father gives the younger son what he wants, but he never stops loving him. He welcomes his son back with open arms. And when the older son is offended out in the fields, the father meets with him and encourages him to make better decisions. Grieved? Yes. Disappointed? No.
God loves first. He is full of compassion. I genuinely believe God cares more about why we make those choices than the actual choices. He cares too much about the causes that led us to that place to be distracted by being disappointed in us. When people walk away, God is grieved, but he loves us too much to take away our freedom to choose. And when we turn our hearts back to him, he rejoices and ‘runs towards us with open arms’ as the parable puts it.
If we have acted with our hearts towards to God, he won’t be disappointed. If we make a bad choice because we are hurt, God won’t be disappointed. If we turn away, God won’t be disappointed.
He will be proud, compassionate, patient and yes, maybe grieved, but not disappointed.
That is the conclusion I reached after wrestling for a couple of months.
I’m doing a lot of walking at the moment, trying to get my step count up – I’m taking part in a virtual challenge where a group of us try and virtually walk the 7 peak challenge in July. It averages out at 19,000 steps a day each, so lots of walking…
Anyway, as part of this we get daily reflections so as I walk I’m focusing on God. Well, yesterday I saw a very attractive pebble. You know the type, smooth and round, nice to look at, comfortable to hold. A really nice pebble. So I picked it up and walked with it in my hand. I noticed how it warmed up as the heat of my hand surrounded it. It struck me that God’s love is like that. It gets transferred to us like the heat to that pebble.
Then I opened my hand and the pebble quickly cooled down. And my pebble analogy fell flat. Because then I began thinking how unlike the pebble and hand God’s love was.
Because unlike a pebble, we are not inanimate objects that sit passively in someone’s hand waiting for them to decide what to do. We are partners. Minor partners perhaps, but active partners. Jesus says in John’s Gospel ‘you may ask me for anything in my name and I will do it.” We are not brainless pebbles, we have a heart and a brain.
And we are not some unimportant pebble which will be tossed away when we become boring, or a burden. 1 John 3 says that we are children of God who are lavishly loved. And there’s a wonderful passage in Isaiah 43 which says:
Do not fear for, I have redeemed you: I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
When you pass through the waters I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.
For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Saviour
Isaiah 43: 1-3
So those times when we feel like we sitting on the open palm, or we have been thrown aside, that’s not true. God is always there, we will not become a burden to him. He will not become bored of our drama (or lack of!) – he has claimed us, he loves us and he walks with us through the fire and the water and whatever else we end up walking through.
Just something to remember: God’s love surrounds us always and doesn’t run out. We are his children.
We are not pebbles. (Not even really nice smooth pebbles) We are much more valuable than that.
Have you ever been blindfolded and led somewhere? I hate those kind of activities. I always pull against the person trying to lead me, step gingerly and stumble a lot. I can’t find the will to trust the person leading despite the fact that they can see and I can’t. Even without knowing the way, I still wrestle to hold onto an element of control, which often leads to stubbed toes and grazed palms.
Not long ago, I was part of a group tour. There were a couple on the tour, one who had bad eyesight and her husband. And they were incredible. She trusted him implicitly. She walked confidently holding his hand, trusting that he would warn her of dangers and obstacles, and knowing that he had her best interests at heart.
And for his part, he gave clear instructions about where to step or where to avoid. He was patient and never once gave any indication that he resented that role he played in their partnership.
From what I could tell, he never missed out. She would wait patiently while he stepped away to take a photo (or stroke a dog, as this was a tour to a husky farm and the dogs were gorgeous and friendly!) and he would always return, take her hand and lead her on. And after each instruction around obstacles, getting into or off of the minibus, or any other information that was needed, the lady would say thank you. And not a cursory ‘thanks’ but a heartfelt thank you.
It was beautiful to watch the two of them interact, the trust and gratitude from one, and the patience and compassion from the other. And it got me thinking. What would it be like to trust someone enough to put faith in them like that, to step forward with confidence when I can’t see properly? And to have that level of gratitude to not take the assistance for granted? Ever?
That’s what our relationship with God could be like. Him, the patient, compassionate one with the ability to see more than we can, and us as the trusting, grateful ones. OK, so God doesn’t physically take our hands, but the premise is the same.
Bear with me, because the bible backs me up. Abram got told to pack up and leave everything that he knew and travel somewhere. The final destination wasn’t revealed. And yet, Abram did. The journey wasn’t without obstacles, but God provided a way out each time. Abram became Abraham, was blessed with a son and his descendents became the nation of Israel. His descendents included Joseph, second only to the Pharaoh, Moses, brought up in the Pharaoh’s household, David, King of Israel and Jesus. All made possible because he trusted and stepped out with God as his guide, one direction at a time, without being able to see the final destination. (OK, so I massively paraphrased a wonderful story. Read Genesis to get the full account)
The bible says that God is patient and full of compassion: multiple psalms, Jesus’ interactions with everyday people, the many letters that Paul wrote. The bible says that God is trustworthy and reliable (same places as before). We know that his plan is ultimately good (every time his people are in trouble, he sends help – read Judges – and if you fancy it, take a look a Revelations). But playing the part of the obedient, trusting one is hard. Some of us struggle to let go of control and trust the one guiding, even knowing their good intentions
While the bible says that God is good and trustworthy and compassionate, most of us will have put our trust in a person only to be hurt by them, on purpose, or accidentally. People are fallible. But that can colour our view of God. How can we trust completely when in the past that hasn’t turned out so well?
Because God is not like us. He doesn’t roll his eyes and give up when we take too long to learn. He doesn’t forget a promise. He doesn’t get a better offer and let us down. His are a safe pair of hands (and eyes) to trust. They want to lead you to the best possible destination.
Don’t get me wrong, sometimes that means travelling through brambles or rocky ground that cause us to stumble and trip. But the way I understand it, that’s because the alternative is worse. Or maybe it’s because we’ve decided we know best and wandered off the path and God needs to get us back on track.
Another thought to add to this: sometimes there are multiple good paths and God let’s us choose. It isn’t a tight rope, with one wrong move sending you falling. And if you do take a wrong turn, there is nothing that God cannot redeem. Jesus saw to that when he died on the cross.
Oh, and the gratitude part? If you can find things to be thankful for, small and big, it helps to deepen the trust in the relationship. As you acknowledge the good directions, the care and patience God shows, it becomes easier to recognise those directions and to rely on the compassion of the one giving them.
So, as you read this, I encourage you to enter into that beautiful relationship, stepping out confidently with God as your guide. And on those occasions when you stumble or stub a toe, wait and listen. Your guide will lead you, if you let him.
I don’t know about you, but sometimes that’s how I feel. “This sucks…” ‘This’ could be one of many things. It could be related to work, home, family, or health, or something else entirely. Maybe it’s looking at the world and seeing poverty or violence. But whatever it is, sometimes it’s just plain rubbish and no amount of looking on the bright side will change it.
And that’s OK. Which might sound strange in a blog about hope, but bear with me. I think I can justify it.
If we look in the bible and read between the lines, I’m fairly sure some of those heroes probably looked at their situation and thought, ‘this sucks.’ Do you think Noah, stuck in an ark for an unknown period of time surrounded by creatures of every shape and size didn’t think at least once, “this is pretty grim”? Surely there must have been a moment when he thought, “Why did we have to bring the skunks!”? And could you blame him? I mean, I know it’s better than the alternative, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t hard.
Or how about Joseph? Favourite son, dreams of stardom, bright future. Then out of the blue, thrown in a hole and left for dead. Or so he thought. Surely the golden boy must have felt pretty down then? Or later, when he got thrown in jail for doing the right thing? At the very least, he probably thought, “This is a bit naff.”
But Noah survived and walked on dry ground again, and even saw what could have been the very first rainbow (that’s a guess, I haven’t researched whether Noah’s rainbow was the first one or not). And Joseph was released from prison, put in charge of Egypt second only to Pharaoah and reconciled with his family.
OK, those are extreme examples which don’t have much relevance in my life (and I imagine in yours either). So how about a lady whose watched someone she loves die and get buried only to come back after three days and find the body taken? OK, again, a sign of the times perhaps, but the grief is something we can perhaps relate to. Or maybe the disappointment. After all, Jesus was supposed to save the world, but all Mary Magdalene knew was that he had disappeared. Alone, weeping, distraught, she notices someone approach and assumes that its the gardener. And all it takes to cut through the grief is one word. “Mary.”
I’m fairly sure at the moment Mary isn’t counting her blessings. She is being real and honest and letting it not be OK.
Fast forward a few weeks (ish). Peter, John and some other disciples are fishing. Peter has betrayed Jesus by denying he knew him, right at the moment Jesus needed him. And worse, he was warned but swore he would never do that. Even after Jesus has risen, do you think that wouldn’t be hanging over Peter? Maybe Peter was thinking about how badly he had let Jesus down, and how that counted him out, and that really sucked. So when he sees Jesus on the shore he doesn’t wait for the boat to sail in with its catch. No, he dives in a swims towards Jesus. And on the shore, over breakfast, Jesus and Peter talk, and Peter is restored. Jesus never counted him out. But he did have to address that need so Peter would stop counting himself out. Nothing is written about how Peter is feeling, but something drives him to jump out of a boat that is already heading in to short in order to get to Jesus, so something was going on in Peter’s head.
So to all the Noah’s out there, stuck somewhere that seems a grim and with no escape, remember that God was protecting Noah from something worse and Noah got to walk on dry land again. Stay hopeful, God is with you.
To all the Joseph’s out there, treated badly and not thought well of by the people around you, remember that God never left Joseph, not when he was in the hole, nor when he was in jail, and in the end God turns it all into something better than Joseph could ever have imagined (and he was a dreamer!) Keep faith, nothing will be wasted, God will see you through this.
For all the Mary’s out there, it’s OK to feel despair and grief. Whether it’s because of the loss of a loved one, the loss of security, in fact any sort of loss, its OK to grieve. Its unhealthy to try and ignore or bottle it up. Jesus wept. He grieved. So let yourself be honest and feel it. And Jesus will meet you there and offer comfort, and will help you to move forwards. He did with Mary.
And to all the Peter’s who have made mistakes which you think are unforgiveable, be kind to yourself. Making a mistake does not count you out. Jesus hasnt. Turn back to Jesus, run towards him, and he will restore you. His grace can help you move through it and try again, if you accept it.
Our worth isn’t based on our success. Our worth isn’t based on what others think of us. Our worth should be based on the knowledge and belief that we are made and loved by God.
Or to make this more personal: my worth is not based on how many times I succeed or fail. My worth is not based on how others see me, measure me or their opinion of me. My worth comes from believing that I am a child of God who is loved unconditionally.
Coming from that place, however much it sucks right now, whether that’s because of your decisions or because of external circumstances, we can get through and look to something better. Not by denying how rubbish it is, but by acknowledging it and choosing to keep moving, by choosing to turn or run towards Jesus, whatever we can manage, and knowing that his love for us hasn’t changed and something better is coming.
So yes, it sucks. Don’t pretend it doesn’t. But don’t stay in that place. God wants more for you than that. Have faith, keep hoping, God is with you.
We’ve left lent and entered into the season of Easter. So, to bring the challenge to a conclusion and enter into the new season, I have one last post to write. (Don’t worry, I mean the last post in this series. I will write more, just not every day!)
Yesterday night, after writing the post about being still, I went to an Easter Eve service. Growing up, I went to a dawn service on Easter Sunday where we sang some traditional chants, light the Easter candle and generally celebrated Jesus rising. Then we’d eat breakfast together. That was my favourite service of the year.
Yesterday’s Easter Eve service contained all of that (except the breakfast). We started in darkness, the Easter candle was lit and from that, our individual candles were lit and the light spread across the building. The service included some baptisms and confirmations (CofE sacrament that shows a personal choice to follow Jesus especially when baptism is done as a baby). The music was uplifting and it was great to sing with so many other voices.
It was a celebration.
It was impossible to not feel joyful. We celebrated God’s love and provision. We celebrated God’s promises. We celebrated Jesus’ rising. We celebrated new life. We celebrated fresh starts. We celebrated God being with us.
It didn’t matter what I walked in there with. The stresses, the worries, the concerns… yes, they matter and are important. But only when put in the context of who God is and what he has done. Surrounded by those people, being part of that celebration, the joy was infectious. As the light spread in the darkness, a seed of hope was planted. As we belted out hymns, my spirit was lifted.
I went in feeling weary, and I left infected with joy from those around me, and, I believe, from God.
I’ve read a lot about biblical joy. It’s something that has come up time and again as people have prayed for me. Joy isn’t happiness. It’s deeper than that. But what I’ve read varies. Some say it is something we choose, some say its a feeling so it happens to us. What they all agree on is that joy is one of the fruits of the Spirit, and therefore is from God. Whether we choose it or have no control over it (as emotions don’t tend to be choices), joy is something God gives to sustain us. Joy in trials, joy in celebration. Joy is walking through the trials and knowing that eternity with God is possible because of Jesus. Joy is knowing that what we are handling is temporary because on Easter day Jesus rose again. Joy and peace come with trusting God’s promises, which we can do because Jesus didn’t stay dead, but came back and gave us hope.
Yesterday I trudged into a service because I happened to be there, and I left with a spring in my step and a lightness in my heart. Not because my problems are solved, but because I couldn’t help but be affected by the joy around me. And I have carried that joy, that lightness with me today too.
In my (not theological expert) opinion, I think we do have a choice. Yes, joy is from God. Yes, it is a fruit of the Spirit given to all who follow Jesus. But I think we do have a choice. I think we do have to choose joy over trial. I think we have to choose not to be overwhelmed by the storm. Joy is always there, but we have to choose to let that be the focus. Choosing joy doesn’t stop sadness or fear or anxiety, but it puts them into perspective. I’ve fallen into that trap of letting the worries be the thing that fills my mind. But after yesterday, being topped up with joy, I’m going to do my best to choose that more often.
Surround yourself with joyful people – joy is catching!
So, the 41st post in a 40 day challenge. I made a mistake at the beginning and wrote a full post on a Sunday, so reached the end of my 40 days before I reached the end of lent. So the final lenten post.
On Good Friday, we remember Jesus dieing. On Easter Sunday we celebrate Jesus rising. On the day in between we…. well, we wait. It was the Sabbath, so the disciples had to wait. They couldn’t distract themselves with work. They couldn’t go and mourn by his body. The had to wait.
Today, Easter Saturday is much like any other Saturday. We can still go about our lives much like any other day. I found myself being busy preparing for tomorrow. But then I got to the end of the day and realised I hadn’t really stopped. The point of Easter Saturday is that nothing happened. Or at least, nothing we could see happened.
Jesus did something on Easter Saturday. That’s not written about in the bible. We read that he is laid in the tomb, and we read that the rock is rolled away and Jesus isn’t there, but we don’t read about what happened because we don’t know. We don’t know what God did. We did nothing, but God won a victory. He must have, because Jesus rose again.
There’s something in that for us today. There are some victories only God can win. And we can’t see what he does. We will see the victory (although we need patience) but we don’t see what God is doing.
Because of the culture of the time, those that loved Jesus were forced to be still. They were forced to wait, not knowing there would be a victory. They were forced to sit with their despair and hopelessness, not knowing what the future would hold.
We know what happens next. We have the advantage of knowing the end of the story. Or at least, the end of that chapter of the story. We don’t have to sit in hopelessness or despair. But we can learn from the disciples. Sometimes we do need to sit. We need to be still. We need to let go of the battle and let God do his thing. Because we know Jesus wins, we can hold onto hope, we can put our trust in him; he has a proven track record of winning impossible battles!
But today, for me, I am reminded of the need to stop and wait on God. I am reminded to lay down the battles and the struggles. As Psalm 46 puts it, I need to remember: Be still and know that I am God
It’s the 40th post in the 40 day challenge. Because I posted on the first Sunday of lent, I’ve arrived at day 40 a day before lent ends…. Which means there’s another post coming tomorrow.
But today’s post has been mulling in my mind for a little while. What can I write on the day we remember Jesus dieing? What can I possibly write on a day so somber?
We tell the story of what Jesus did – he died on a cross, betrayed by friends, condemned by people who had cheered as he arrived in Jerusalem, and was laid in a borrowed tomb.
And we know why he did it, right? He died to redeem human kind, to make a way for us to be with God in eternity. John 3:16 For God so loved the world that he gave his only son that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.
God so loved the world. That’s a big concept. God loved the world, the whole world. That’s one entity. But its made up of billions of individuals. In the past, I have struggled with holding those 2 things together, that God could love the whole world and God could love me as an individual. It seems so hard to grasp that out of billions of individuals, in the one massive entity, that I could be a received of God’s love.
Then I spent some time studying Jesus walk around Israel. In no particular order, here’s what I discovered:
In John 4, we hear about an encounter Jesus has at a well with a Samaritan woman. The woman sees all the barriers, all the reasons why they shouldn’t interact. He’s a Jew, she’s a Samaritan. He’s a man, she’s a woman. But Jesus, the one with the power, asks the woman for a drink. He treats her as an equal. They have a conversation where she gives him some half truths and he responds with information showing he knows what she isn’t telling him. He knows that she has had 5 husbands, and the man she is with is not her husband – things that at the time reveal either deep shame or deep tragedy (and we never get to find out which). And this is the person Jesus chooses to reveal himself to as the Messiah – to a Samaritan woman with a shady past. Jesus sees past the pain and the mistakes and chooses her anyway. Differences are not barriers and our life isn’t something we need to keep hidden, at least not from Jesus.
In Matthew 8 there is a story of Jesus meeting with a man who had leprosy. The man kneels before Jesus and says “If you are willing, you can make me clean.” And, of course, Jesus reaches out and touches the man with the contagious disease. Of course he is willing. The man is healed. Jesus isn’t put off by the risk of catching the disease. He isn’t put off by the look of the man. He just sees someone who desperately needs help and meets that need.
John 8, a woman caught in adultery is dragged in front of Jesus and us in danger of being stoned. They want Jesus to pass the judgement so they can begin. Except Jesus’ response is to draw on the ground and tell the mob only a sinless person can throw the first stone. And slowly the crowd leaves. No one is sinless. Jesus looks at the woman and tells her that he doesn’t condem her either, and gives her a chance to change and not sin again. Jesus, the only one who can condem, chooses not to. Sins and mistakes don’t define us, God’s grace and love does. That doesn’t mean it’s OK to sin, but it means it’s not the end when we do. God’s under no illusions about us, he sees the sins, but he chooses to forgive and love us anyway.
Mark 5, a story of 2 parts. An important man’s daughter is dieing and he comes to Jesus and asks for his help. On the way, a woman who had been bleeding for 12 years reaches out and touches Jesus’ cloak. She is healed immediately, but Jesus stops and wants to know who touched his cloak. He sees her, accepts her and calls her daughter (the only person he gives that title to). After 12 years of being invisible, Jesus gives her an identity, the best identity possible. He claims her as part of God’s family. Then he keeps going to the important man’s house, despite being told that the daughter is dead. When he gets there, he tells her to get up and she does. People of high social standing are of equal importance to Jesus. He has time for low born and high born.
In Mark 10, there’s a story of another man, this one is blind. He sits on the side of the road and hears that Jesus is passing. So he calls out to him. The crowd around Jesus tell the man to shut up, but instead the man calls louder. He asks for mercy. Jesus stops and calls the man to him. Then he restores the man’s sight. When the world told him to be quiet, the man calls louder. And Jesus takes the invite and helps him. If we call out, even if the world tells us we shouldn’t, Jesus hears.
Luke 19, a chief tax collectors called Zaccheus wanted to see Jesus but he was short and not very well liked, so he couldn’t see through the crowd. He runs ahead and climbs a tree, just wanting to get a glimpse of Jesus. Jesus walks under the tree, stops, looks up and invites himself round for dinner. A man of influence meets with Jesus and has a change of heart and gives away most of his wealth. A man hated by the people he lives alongside hosts Jesus for dinner. Jesus doesn’t make the same judgements as society, he meets with everyone who welcomes him.
Luke 5, another tax collector. Levi. Jesus goes up to his tax booth and says 2 words. “Follow me.” And Levi got up and left everything to follow Jesus. He throws a party for Jesus and invites a large crowd of tax collectors and others. The Pharisees and teachers of the law complained, asking why Jesus would eat with sinners and tax collectors. Jesus calls, Levi follows. Jesus calls those that society may not value. Jesus sees people who are worth spending time with. He sees the potential and invites them on an adventure. God sees more than the world sees.
Also in Luke 5, we are introduced to Simon Peter. He falls at Jesus’ feet, calling himself unworthy to be around Jesus. But Jesus ignores that, and instead calls him to follow too. Later, Jesus officially gives Simon the new name of Peter, the rock on which the church will be built. Have you ever felt like Peter did, like you weren’t good enough to be around Jesus? Jesus doesn’t think like that, he invites you to do better, to be more. And Jesus gives Peter a new name to solidify his new identity; not someone who isn’t good enough, but someone Jesus can rely on. Yes, Peter still makes mistakes. But that doesn’t change his identity that Jesus gave him.
Whistle stop tour through 9 individuals that Jesus sees and loves. What do they have in common? Absolutely nothing. Different ages, nationalities, genders, statuses, and circumstances. Some called Jesus, others were called by Jesus. The only thing they have in common is Jesus.
God so loved the world, and every single individual in it. Look at the time he spent travelling and the way he interacted with individuals. And when you look at it like that, it’s easier to accept that we are more than just one of 7 billion people who may be easy to overlook. We are individuals who are noticed and loved by God.
Try looking in the mirror and saying this: God so loved me that he gave his only son that I should not perish.
I have just got back from a Maundy Thursday service combined with a meal. It was really well put together. There was some liturgy, some hymns, some readings and homemade soup.
We sang some of the hymns I put on the list last Sunday (Brother, Sister, let me serve you and My Song is Love Unknown). And the readings were typical for Maundy Thursday. The main one was from John’s gospel. It focused on Jesus washing the feet of his disciples, his friends. Traditionally the job of the servants in a household, foot washing was a sign of hospitality to guests, and also a sign of humility by the person offering to do the washing.
Jesus was the leader, the teacher. But he takes off his outer robe, ties a towel around his waist, and washes and dries the feet of his followers and students. Jesus does what a servant should do. Jesus, Son of God, come to save God’s people, kneels and washes feet like a servant.
I have had it drummed into me that, when we have power and influence (such as when we are in a position of leadership) we should never ask people to do things we are not willing to do ourselves. And here is Jesus telling his followers to love one another and to serve one another, and doing just that. The sort of leader who cares enough to personally and humbly offer hospitality in that way is the sort of leader I can follow. And that is the sort of characteristic I can emulate too. I will stack chairs, wash dishes, run a hoover round… Admittedly, I’ve never washed feet, but culture has changed and that’s not seen as a sign of hospitality any more. Or at least, not in any home I’ve visited!
But the thing about this story for me is that it doesn’t detract from Jesus’ status as teacher and rabbi. If anything, it adds an extra dimension. His love for the people around him included those who followed him for years, not just individuals on the streets. His heart for service allowed him to serve his friends without embarrassment. This is someone totally at peace with who he is, someone who doesn’t need status, someone who wants to love and honour people. So he kneels and washes their feet.
This is a leader who is as at peace with serving as he is with giving instruction. This is God. This is the leader who served.
The Reason for my Hope Blog 