Still Quarrying 31 - The Cure.

Sometimes the darkest events are an opportunity for people to shine.  Before the mass murder of Muslim worshippers in Christchurch on 15 March I would not have been able to tell you the name of the Prime Minister of New Zealand.   With all due respect I think for many people she may have been close to a Pointless Answer.  That is certainly not the case now.   In the aftermath of the horror she emerged as the embodiment of the shock, the anger and the compassion of her nation, providing a rallying point for every positive quality that sought to lead to healing.  Her words were measured but heart-felt and carried the confidence that her people could move on from that moment and rebuild.  

What she said at the National Remembrance Service was particularly memorable:

‘We each hold the power, in our words and in our actions, in our daily acts of kindness.  We are not immune to the viruses of hate, of fear, of other.  We never have  been.  But we can be the nation that discovers the cure.’  

What interests me is where we can find ‘the cure.‘  In an interview published in the Guardian last Saturday she was asked what she would like  to see other nations draw from New Zealand’s experiences.  She replied: ‘Humanity.  That’s it.  Simple.‘   It would have been good to hear her expanding on this because I am assuming that this is where she sees ‘the cure’, in ‘humanity’,  that we realise our common humanity and learn to care and wish only the best for one another.  Those impulses are certainly alive across all nationalities and ethnicities and their freer flow would result in a more just and peaceful world.   The problem is that ‘humanity’ is equally capable of the darker impulses that bring destruction and death into our experience.  The man who murdered fifty people in Christchurch is a human being, part of the human family, and yet chose a path that drew millions men and women into their worst of times.  

My point is that we cannot make ‘humanity’ our final appeal as we seek to build a better world.  We are too complex, too prone to choose the wrong path, too easily seduced by what will satisfy our own needs rather than those of others.  The Biblical analysis of humanity is of a ‘fallen‘ community in need of restoration.   We can go so far along this road with projects and programs for improvement but inevitably we will be faced with circumstances and events that scream that ‘the cure’ is beyond us.    Something needs to happen to us that will deal with the core problem of humanity which the Bible calls sin, our tendency to turn our backs on God.    

Jesus spoke about the the need for men and women to be ‘born again‘.   (John 3: 3)  I know that the idea of being ‘born again’ has become overlaid with a certain kind of evangelicalism which demands a particular kind of conversion experience in the life of a believer.  The original Greek of the New Testament, however, can be translated as ‘born from above.‘    If we are to be part of God’s great project to renew creation, to build His Kingdom, to push back the darkness in the world, then something radical needs to happen in the depths of our being.  We need to recognise our own limitations and turn decisively towards God for our values, for our motivation, for our salvation.   We need to look ‘above’.   Of course the Church has often failed in this and in truth has sometimes contributed to the darkness but the great purpose still stands and the call to step into that purpose is as urgent as ever.  

Just this morning I read in Psalm 105 verse 4:

‘Look to the Lord and his strength; seek his face always.’  

Simple words but they contain ‘the cure’.   The need of the hour is for a growing people who are oriented ‘above’, who keep company with God through prayer and meditation on His Word,  who will face their own personal failure and trust in His forgiveness, who are open to His values even when they conflict with those of the world, who find in Him the strength and conviction to work out those values in the world as it is.  

One of Jesus’ healing miracles struck me with new force this morning.   I have always felt that these stories are there not just to show us that Jesus had power of heal but also to teach us something about life in the Kingdom.  This man was deaf and mute.  Jesus touched the man’s ears and tongue, looked up to heaven and with a sigh that came from the depths said: ‘Ephphatha!’ which means ‘Be opened!‘   Mark says: ‘At this the man’s ears were opened, his tongue was loosened and he began to speak plainly.‘  And those who witnessed were ‘overwhelmed with amazement’.   (Mark 7: 31-37)  

Something happened ‘from above’ that we all need.  Ears opened to hear the Truth, tongue loosened to share what we know to be true,  faith to believe in the impact  a life lived in the Spirit can bring to a community.  Henri Nouwen once wrote:

‘Truly ‘born again’ people always desire to be renewed continually precisely because the Sprit keeps on revealing, in and around them, places of darkness that have not yet been transformed by the light.  For as long as we live, we need to be reborn and deepen our spiritual understanding , as we walk together in the light.’  

Still Quarrying 30 - How To Be Good.

We are used to thinking of Job’s friends being pretty useless as encouragers to a man who has lost everything in life but one of them, Bildad, asks one of the central questions of the Bible: ‘How . . . can a man be righteous before God?  How can one born of woman be pure?’  (Job 25: 4)   If God is ‘holy’, perfect in His being, how is it possible for any human being to be comfortable in His presence, to live in peace with Him?   Our instinct so often is quite simply to live our lives as best we can, cultivate the best qualities,  in the hope that in the end the scales will tip more towards the good.   

Nick Hornby’s novel How To Be Good shows that this instinct can be powerful even in the lives of people who do not aspire to any faith in God.  Young, gifted, well-off they may be but they will not be satisfied unless they can think of themselves as ‘good.‘   The tragedy is that that they never quite get there.  There is always something that comes in the way of complete reassurance, a negative reaction to someone, a moral failure, a selfish aspiration.  At one point the narrator, Katie, seems to get an inkling that this ‘goodness’ is not something that  she can accomplish on her own:

‘When I look at at my sins (and if I think they’re sins, then they are sins), I can see the appeal of born-again Christianity.  I suspect that it’s not the Christianity that is so alluring; it’s the rebirth.  Because who wouldn’t wish to start all over again?’  

Mind you, we have to be clear about this ‘starting all over again’.  Coming to faith in God through Christ does not mean that our struggles with ourselves are over.  No one was more clear about that than Paul.  In Romans 7 he speaks openly about the civil war raging within his being:

‘For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.’  (Romans 7: 18-20)

Remember this is Paul the Apostle!  Being dragged into the darkness by his ‘sinful nature.‘    The impossibility of ever being regarded as ‘good’ strikes him deeply: 

‘What a wretched man I am!  Who will rescue me from this body of death?’  (Romans 7: 24).

Sometimes we need to be brought up against the impossibility of ever being able to save ourselves from the worst of ourselves.  And this is what Paul is experiencing in this moment.  Thankfully he knows the answer:  

‘Thanks be to God - through Jesus Christ our Lord!’  (Romans 7: 25)  

His death has covered our sins, paid the price for our sins, made it possible for us to live at peace with God, and trusting in His death has opened the way for the Holy Spirit to dwell within us and take us towards that pattern of Christ-likeness God cherishes for all His people.  

‘He died that we might be forgiven,

 He died to make us good,

 That we might go at last to heaven 

 Saved by His precious blood.’  

Still Quarrying 29 - Overcoming.

David Owen’ s book In Sickness And In Power is a study of the effect of ill health on heads of government, not least on the important decisions that they have to make in relation to their country’s future.   He is uniquely placed to make a contribution having trained as a doctor but also serving as Labour Foreign Secretary under James Callaghan and co-founding  the Social Democratic Party of which he later became Leader.  

There are some fascinating insights into the lives of some of the most powerful people of the twentieth century and how they coped with illness.  Many made great efforts to cover up any sign of physical or mental weakness.  I was interested to learn that the French President Georges Pompidou was a myeloma sufferer but apart from a noticeable change in his appearance,  probably brought about by steroid treatment, this was never revealed before his death.  His wife only knew about it months before his death.  On the other hand the American Presidents Dwight Eisenhower and Ronald Regan discovered that there was nothing to be lost in being open about illness.   They were perceived to be pressing on despite their challenges and rose  in public esteem.  

Owen has little to say about the role of faith in the lives of the powerful but there are some insights which are consistent with Christian thinking.  In his Introduction he writes of Abraham Lincoln, the depression he suffered throughout his adult life, and how his leadership qualities were forged through his struggles.  He writes: ‘Few heads of government have borne that affliction for a longer period than Lincoln and yet he refused to be bowed down by it.‘   He was often visited by powerful suicidal impulses but says Owen: ‘It is probable  that overcoming or learning to live with his depression contributed to Lincoln’s character as President.’  

I am sure that Owen would not wish this kind of experience on anyone but it is significant that he sees something positive arising out of it which would ultimately be of benefit to the individual and others for whom he had responsibility.  The idea that the best of human qualities can arise out of the crucible of suffering is entirely consistent with the Judeo-Christian mindset.  We do not know for sure what was Paul’s ‘thorn’ and there are people who would argue that it was not a physical affliction but rather a spiritual disturbance brought about by problems in the Church.  I am not convinced by this.  The imagery he uses to describe the affliction in 2 Corinthians 12 is particular and it conveys debility and pain: ‘ . . . there was given me a thorn in my flesh , a messenger of Satan, to torment me.’  (verse 7).   Paul’s response was to pray repeatedly to be delivered but the answer he receives from God is: ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’  (verse 9)  This leads Paul to the startling conviction:  

‘Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.  That is why for Christ’s sake, I delight in in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties.  For when I am weak, then I am strong.’  (verses 9-10)

This is not easy and those of us going through their worst of times may be a long way from being as convinced as Paul.  But that is precisely why we need to keep company with him and the other voices of faith we hear in Scripture.  Voices that speak of that grace that can fill our lives when we feel that strength and peace have been evacuated from our souls.  Voices that speak of this as the Spirit’s opportunity to fill us with an assurance that can never come from any human source.   Voices that echo the great Voice seeking to find a place in our souls:

‘Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.  I do not give you as the world gives.  Do not let your hearts be troubles and do not be afraid.’  (John 14: 27)

‘I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace.  In this world you will have trouble.  But take heart!  I have overcome the world!’  (John 16: 33)

Still Quarrying 28 - Progress!

It has been a heavy week with three hospital appointments behind me and one to go this afternoon.   The good news is that the treatment seems to be working.  What I call the ‘bad stuff’ in my blood has gone down and things look good for the future.  Certainly there is some way to go but let’s pray that the encouragements continue.  

Being back on chemotherapy means that the drug regime is stepped up and the side effects become  more intense.  At the moment this amounts to extreme tiredness and light-headedness which can be hard to cope with at times.  Once again I am grateful that I have Gabrielle to help me organise the medication.   As the Preacher says:

‘Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor:  If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up.  Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone? Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.’  (Ecclesiates 4: 9-12)

It’s hard to imagine having to deal with this on my own and yet I know that this is what many cancer sufferers are faced with.   There is not a lot of conversation in the waiting room at the Beatson but as I discreetly look round silent prayers are said for all.  

Still Quarrying 27 - Confession.

They say that confession is good for the soul.  Apparently it is of interest to others.  One of the first works of Christian biography is The Confessions Of St. Augustine in which he details his sinful life before his conversion and some of his continuing struggles.  It was written largely in the fourth and fifth centuries AD, has probably not been out of circulation since, and is now regarded not just as a Christian devotional classic but an important work of ancient literature.   Obviously generations of Christians have found it helpful to know how the mistakes and moral failures of the past need not hold back our Christian growth.  As long as we willing to be honest before our God, trust in His forgiveness, and depend upon the grace that enables us to believe that we have a future as well as a past.  

The problem is that sometimes we can become fixated on the failures of yesterday, not only ours but those of others.  A recovered alcoholic once told me that at one time he was happy to tell his story to various groups of people. It was therapeutic and it gave him an opportunity to bear witness to the role the Gospel played in his rehabilitation.  After a while, however, it begin to feel as if we was raking over the coals of a former life which he did not want to deny but which no longer defined him as a person.   I can understand this.  Sometimes in the Church we too readily label people as ‘former alcoholic’, ‘former drug addict’ etc. as if this is their only significance in our eyes.  Perhaps we need to realise that the miracle of regeneration is fundamental to all our lives.  ‘I’m looking for a miracle in my life,’  sang the Moody Blues.  (Showing my age!)  This is the one genuine miracle that happens in the life of any believer:  that they now possess the Holy Spirit of God.   Their story may not be the kind that will grab a great deal of attention in the world or even in the Church but as Jesus said there is joy in heaven over one sinner who repents.  

My reason for going down this road today was to make a confession but I now fear it is more than just a little trivial.   I was going to ‘fess up’ and share with you my realisation that in my present circumstances it was a mistake going back to the gym and ‘getting tore into’ the bag they way I did.  It felt good at the time but since then I have paid the price.   I suppose it is all part of the learning curve that anyone undergoing cancer treatment has to travel.  At the beginning of all this the myeloma nurse gave me a booklet entitled: ‘Exercises For Myeloma Patients’.  It involved sitting in a chair and raising your arms and legs.  I burst out laughing.  Giving this to the guy who was recently dead lifting 120 kilos!  The nurse didn’t laugh.   She he knew I was in for a shock.  

Maybe there is a point to this.  At the heart of my response to the booklet was pride and probably an unwillingness to recognise the implications of my condition.  A reminder to me that there are more important issues to be dealt with in my life than my cancer.  Come in again Paul!  When he was writing to his pal Timothy who was having to deal with false teaching in the Church at Ephesus he reminded him that this was not healthy disagreement but ruinous to faith and ultimately destructive of the Church.  Only the truth of the Gospel can mould the Christian’s life and build up the Church: 

‘ If you point these things out to the brothers and sisters, you will be a good minister of Christ Jesus, nourished on the truths of the faith and of the good teaching that you have followed.  Have nothing to do with godless myths and old wives’ tales; rather, train yourself to be godly. For physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come.’  (1 Timothy 4: 6-8)

Training myself to be godly is the supreme priority no matter what the circumstances.  The physical training of necessity has to be less intensive at present.  What is always imperative is  the application of God’s truth to my life.  The training that has value in light or darkness, strength or weakness, health or sickness.  

Still Quarrying 26 - Cheers!

I have four hospital appointments this week including two for injections of chemotherapy.  Not for the first time I feel blessed in being close to the Beatson.  I often wonder how those who live at a distance manage to cope with a similar schedule.  I am also grateful for the sense of community that there is at the Beatson.  Sometimes there can be administrative blips and there is also the possibility of a longer than usual spell in the waiting room but the overwhelming sense is of a dedicated staff working hard often under pressure for the good of their patients.  

I turned up for my appointment on Monday and gave my name at the reception desk.  The nurse said: ‘It’s okay.  We know who you are.’  At the risk of sounding a bit sentimental it was a heart-warming moment.  Here I was, one among many, not feeling at my best but assured that I wasn’t just a name on a sheet.  That’s the impression I have been given on this long stretch that has been this process.  

I was reminded of that very popular sit-com Cheers about the bar in Boston that was a home from home for a number of quirky characters one of whom was the psychiatrist  Dr. Fraser Crane who was later to be given his own series.  I always appreciated the theme tune:

‘Sometimes you want to go

Where everybody knows your name

And they're always glad you came

You want to be where you can see

The troubles are all the same

You want to be where everybody knows your name.’

Okay we’re talking about a pub here but when life is hard there is enormous encouragement in knowing that you are part of a community where people care for you.     I see people’s faces light up when a nurse appears at the door of the waiting room and their name is called.  It’s not just that their ‘turn’ has come around.  They are being taken by someone who knows their name, their trouble, and who will be doing the best for them.  We are constantly told by psychologists that this is something that is lacking in modern society.  Everything that we need for entertainment, information and intellectual stimulation can be accessed in our own homes.  No great need to seek the company of others.  But then the time comes when you need others, a sense of community, to be where everybody knows your name.

This is not too far away from the vision that Paul cherished for the Church.  The reason he wrote those letters was to deal with issues that were disrupting a sense of community.  People departing from the core beliefs of the Gospel and declaring their way was best.  People allowing themselves to be defined by their loyalty to big personalities rather than Christ.  People neglecting the needs of the vulnerable and needy.   People just not getting on with one another.  Even in Philippi where the Christian witness was a source of joy to Paul there were issues that needed to be sorted out.  He reminds the believers that their ‘citizenship is in heaven.’ (Philippians 3: 20).  If you like, their community is a colony of heaven, where the eternal truths and values are cherished above those of ‘earthly things’.  A place where the troubled, confused and despairing can find that deep satisfaction which only Christ can give.  That vision of the Church has to be sustained in face of all the threats that can arise from the self-centredness of broken humanity.  

I’ve never been a great ‘party‘ person.  No political party has ever enticed me to the extent that I would want to be a member.  While being concerned about a number of ‘issues‘ which threaten the quality of life I have only once put my name to any pressure group.  The only community that has ever held me is the Church of Jesus Christ because there can his Word be heard, there can His call to serve is made plain, and there His people know my name and uphold me in the days of trouble.   

Still Quarrying 25 - Broken?

Representations of clergy in films or television are very rarely positive.   They are usually seen as mad, bad or sad or even some combination of these three.  Occasionally they are good for a laugh but not especially effective.  It was refreshing therefore to watch Broken shown on the BBC almost two years ago.  It starred Sean Bean as Father Michael Kerrigan working in a parish in a northern English city and seeking to support people through issues arising from poverty and social exclusion.   He has his own personal struggles.  He is prone to powerful flash-backs to his traumatic childhood and to times when his behaviour has been morally questionable.  These are particularly intense when he is leading worship, leaving him psychologically drained.  He seeks the counsel of a fellow priest who is sympathetic and supportive but cannot escape the darkness that has fallen on his inner life.  Eventually he finds himself questioning his vocation and his faith.  

The weight of the past is a burden that Father Michael shares with many Bible people.  Psalm 51 arises out of David’s adultery with Bathsheba which also involved David’s involvement in the death of her husband Uriah.  David writes:

‘Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love; according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions. Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin. For I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me.’  (vv. 1-3)

He goes on:

‘Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.’  (v. 10)

There must be many of us who would like troubling memories, those things that stick in our souls like broken glass, to be smoothed away.   The memories might always be with us, those things happened,  but it would be a blessing if they no longer caused us pain.  We can’t be sure if Paul’s past no longer caused him pain but it certainly did not hinder his calling to be an apostle.  He makes frequent reference to his past as a persecutor of the Church in her earliest days:

‘For I am the least of the apostles and do not even deserve to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God.  But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to me was not without effect. No, I worked harder than all of them—yet not I, but the grace of God that was with me.’  (1 Corinthians 15: 9-10)

This is what is amazing about grace, that a life that was set in fierce opposition to Christ can be turned around and become a powerful witness to His name.  The memory of what he was would never leave Paul but the edges of the broken glass had been smoothed down.  He lived with the memory but was not paralysed by it.  He was given grace to work his heart out in the cause of the Gospel.  The song sung by Ray Davies over the end credits of Broken come to mind:

‘We are lost, we are scattered

We're balmy and we're battered

We might be bruised but we're not broken.’