Still Quarrying 46 - God Came Near

Yesterday I started on my third cycle of chemotherapy, two weekly injections along with a daily intake of 40 mg. of steroids, a daily injection of heparin and other supplementary drugs.   In an earlier blog I mentioned the Irish writer Colm Toibin’s cancer experience and the intensive treatment he has undergone.  He very vividly described his experience at one point in his treatment: ‘It was like mixing a major hangover with a major flu.‘   Well, I suppose we draw on our own past experience to describe present experience!  But I think I know where he is coming from.  There is a heaviness, a disorientation, an inability to find words for your thoughts, dryness and soreness in the mouth.  Thankfully I still have no nausea and I had to go to the hairdresser last Friday so the ‘barnet’ is still intact.  It’s what we citizens in the Republic of Cancervania are repeatedly told, no two people are the same.     

Recently I got to wondering if Jesus was ever ill.  We know about the limitations his humanity placed on him.  He needed food, water, rest, when cut he bled, finally he was overcome by death.  But disease?  Max Lucado is in no doubt.  In  God Came Near one of his most profound books he writes:

‘For thirty-three years he would feel everything you and I every felt.  He felt weak.  He   grew weary.  He was afraid of failure.  He was susceptible to wooing women.  He got colds, burped, and had body odor.  His feelings got hurt.  His feet got tired.  And his head ached.’  

I know someone who read this and found it challenging.  A bit too ‘near the bone.‘   But is this not what the Incarnation is all about.  God coming near in the fullness of humanity while always being fully God.  Max goes on:

‘It’s much easier to keep humanity out of the incarnation.  Clean the manure from around the manger.  Wipe the sweat out of his eyes.  Pretend he never snored or blew his nose or hit his thumb with a hammer.

‘He’s easier to stomach that way.  There is something about keeping him divine that keeps him distant, packaged, predictable.

But don’t do it.  For heaven’s sake, don’t.  Let him be as human as he intended to be.  Let him into the mire and muck of our world.  For only if we let him in can he pull us out.‘    

It makes sense.  If Jesus was fully human in everything except sin then his immune system was as dodgy as the next man’s ( unless, of course he was one of those people who could say: ‘I’ve never had a day’s illness in my life’ - hmm) and that’s before we get into psychological and spirit disturbance.   Evidence of the latter is there as much as the physical limitation.   

I’m reading through the Book of Proverbs at present.  It’s not the easiest book of the Bible to get your head around.  It can seem to be fragmentary, a bit ‘all over the place’, with rapidly changing and seemingly unrelated themes.   I found this to be challenging when I preached on a series of passages not long ago.  But as with all scripture it is worth hanging in and there are many verses and passages which have been helpful to Christians in gaining insight into the nature of God and His ways.   Proverbs 18: 24 has been the inspiration of many a sermon:

‘A man of many companions may come to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.’  

If you have friendship like this then you are certainly blessed.  But these words have been a great help to many people when even the closest of relationships runs into trouble.  Human friendship may fail but there is always ‘a friend who sticks closer than a brother.’  Maybe this is what Paul had in mind when he spoke about God’s plan for us all ‘to be conformed to the likeness of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers.’  (Roman 8: 29)  Jesus is the Big Brother in the Kingdom Family and closer to us than any friend or family member.  

That’s easy to say and to write.  Do I always feel this?  If not, how is this realisation awakened?  How does the light dawn upon a soul sometimes in the darkness of doubt, disillusion, disturbance, despair?  I was reading Psalm 1 this morning which speaks of the man who is blessed.  He is one who ‘delights in the Law of the Lord, and on his Law he meditates day and night.’  (verse 2).  What is written concerning our God is vital to our spiritual strength.  It is there we get to know about Him but also to know Him.  Yes, there are difficulties. Not long ago I led a Bible Study with people with addiction problems.  At one point in the discussion the importance of the Bible was emphasised by someone whereupon upon one woman picked up a copy riffled through it and said with some passion: ‘How can anyone read that!’  We have to accept that it is from a position like this that most people begin.  But for anyone beginning with Bible reading or struggling with Bible reading the imperative must always be the story of Jesus where we see God in human form, God as he relates to humankind, God as he sympathises with the Bible struggler, God as He came near.   

Still Quarrying 45 - Preaching.

Normal routines are of course up in the air at present.  Saturday morning would normally be a time of final preparation for the Lord’s Day.  Not starting from scratch you understand (usually!) but pulling things together, making sure that the message is as clear as it can be and, just as important, praying that the message has made an impact on me.  There can be no true preaching unless you are speaking out of your own experience of the Living Word and this means being open to the ministry of the Holy Spirit.   

This is where preaching is ultimately beyond us.  At the beginning of the twentieth century James Black wrote a book entitled The Mystery Of Preaching and there is so much about the preaching experience that is beyond the expertise and control of the preacher.  The novelist Stephen King was once doing a ‘Q&A’ after a talk.  One lady said that her daughter wanted to be a writer so what advise would Stephen give her?  His response was: ‘Read a lot of books.’  He then followed this up by saying: ‘You can learn how to write but I’m not sure you can teach it.‘   You can put this another way.  You can learn how to write but you can’t be taught how to write.  And it’s the same with preaching.  You can master techniques and maybe even get brilliant grades in a homiletics class.  I’ve been involved in teaching a few of those myself.  But there is something indefinable, perhaps even inexpressible, involved in the flow of eternal truth through a human personality.  

Another writer Richard Russo says in an essay about writing: ‘Most of the stuff an aspiring writer needs to learn about point of view and plotting and character development  and dialogue can be learned.’  He goes on however: ‘What can’t be taught is indispensable.’  It’s the same with preaching.

This does not mean that there is no need to work at it.  Mozart practiced six hours a day, Dickens wrote himself to a standstill, Johann Cruyff had to be dragged off the training ground.  But others have worked just as hard who did not have that indefinable quality which Russo would say is ‘indispensable.‘   With regard to preaching, what we are moving towards is the Biblical view of preaching as a ‘charism’ or gift, something given out of the grace of God.  Paul says: ‘Follow the way of love and eagerly desire spiritual gifts, especially the gift of prophesy.’ (I Corinthians 14: 1)  Prophesy being the proclamation of revealed truth to the community of Christ.  

This does not place preachers on a moral eminence in relation to other Christians.  If a preacher has any knowledge of his or her brothers and sisters in Christ and any spiritual sensitivity he/she will be aware of many people who listen to them and embody Christ-like qualities that elude them.  Preaching can be a humbling experience.  But the preacher is called to a task that ‘edifies’ or ‘builds up’ the Church through the sharing of eternal truth.  Paul again: ‘He who speaks in a tongue edifies himself, but he who prophesies edifies the church.’  (1 Corinthians 14: 4)

There is a sense of course in which all Christians are called to be preachers.  There are many Greek words in the New Testament which can be translated as ‘preaching’ and in some cases they point to an informal sharing of faith one person to another or a spontaneous response to an opportunity which arises.  But the gift remains which edifies the Church and given to those called and recognised by the Church.  

In case this might seem to be dangerously exclusive let’s go back to Paul and his perception of the impact of preaching.  Put simply he saw preaching as producing more preachers:

‘So Christ himself gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers,  to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up  until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ.‘   (Ephesians 4: 11-13)

Going back to Stephen King and his advise to budding writers: ‘Read a lot of books’, it is as part of the community of faith, worshipping with other Christians, under the authority of the preached Word, that preachers emerge for the future strengthening of the Church.  It may be said that this is not happening, at least in the Western Church at this time.  Well, maybe that is a subject for another blog.  For the moment let’s concentrate on the great need of the hour for the emergence of more preachers who will have as their priority ‘quarrying’ for the truth in order to share it with God’s people in the power of the Holy Spirit.

Someone, obviously in morbid mood, once said to me that I should have Jesus words, ‘I will build my church . . .’ inscribed on my grave-stone.  Apparently I quote them quite a lot.  However, it has only just struck me that I haven’t given a lot of thought to how He will build.  Does Paul have have the answer when he speaks of preaching edifying or building up the Church?  I really do believe it is as important as that.  So, faithful reader, pray that tomorrow throughout the nation the Word will go out in power and touch men and women at the deepest level and that others will emerge to continue the greatest building project ever conceived.  

Still Quarrying 44 - Known And Called.

Haematology Clinic yesterday and things are continuing to go in the right direction which is good news.  The treatment is leaving me extremely tired and there are a few other side effects but it is working.  So we hang on with confidence in the medics and faith in God’s good and loving purpose.  

My abiding impression of the Clinic is just how busy it was.  For the first time it was difficult to find a seat.  And again you realise the challenge for the Beatson staff faced with these large numbers of people and seeking to provide a service for each individual.  All the more so when you remember that no two people are the same in going through the cancer experience.   So any indication that you are valued as an individual is an encouragement in itself.  

It is one of the great wonders of the Christian life that we are known completely by our God.  We are not just drops in an ocean of humanity but known as unique individuals.  Jesus’ teaching in John 10 underlines that for us.  He speaks of Himself as the Good Shepherd who ‘calls his own sheep by name.’  To know someone’s name in Jesus’ culture was more than just a memory exercise.  It showed that you had some deeper knowledge of that person, his character, her priorities.  So Jesus knows us at a deep level.  His gaze falls upon us and he knows us completely.  

That is reassuring but read on and discover that he ’goes on ahead’ of His sheep calling them to follow.  He is not merely a comfort blanket but a dynamic presence taking His people forward in the life of discipleship.  Paul found the truth of this in all circumstances, free or imprisoned, healthy or sick, held back or forging ahead.  The Good Shepherd went before him providing opportunities to serve.  

Still Quarrying 43 - Noticing.

Mentioning Clive James in yesterday’s blog sent me back to one of his poems, ‘Sentenced To Life’ in which he reflects on  his illness and the physical restrictions it has placed on him:

‘Sentenced to life, I sleep face-up as though

 Ice-bound, lest I should cough the night away,

 And when I walk the mile to town, I show

 the right technique for wading through deep clay.’ 

He also has to deal with thoughts of past misjudgments and mistakes which weigh heavily on him and which cause regret and guilt.  But through all of this he discovers a new perspective on life:

‘Now, not just old, but ill, with much amiss,

 I see things with a whole new emphasis.’

Despite the discomfort and debility he has time and opportunity to take in the world around him and to appreciate things that have escaped him in the past:

‘Once, I would not have noticed; nor have known

 The name for Japanese anemones,

 So pale, so frail.  But now I catch the tone

 Of leaves.  No birds can touch down in the trees

 Without my seeing them.  I count the bees.’

This is something I have experienced.  When you are forced to slow down you ‘notice’ more, you have opportunity to dwell on your surroundings in ways you may never have done before.  No longer able to go places, see people, do things, you focus on what you hear and see and touch.  Jesus was steeped in His world and He preached out of it.  He was connected to what was around Him and that formed the basis of His connection with men and women.  Not just the seeds and the flowers and the birds.  Read the parables.  This was a world where travellers were brutally mugged, where young men made potentially life-destroying decisions, where emissaries from landowners were beaten up and murdered.  He ‘noticed’ and He made connections.  

I wonder if Clive James would say that his illness has been worth the life-enhancement he has experienced.  What is beyond doubt is that the ‘noticing’ afforded by his illness has led to a deeper appreciation of life.  I can say that too and hope that when all this is behind me my ability to ‘notice’ has been heightened.  

Still Quarrying 42 - Because He Lives!

Two magazines bought last week each with a cancer story.  Clive James, author, critic, broadcaster, poet, was actually diagnosed with a form of leukemia in 2011 but has benefited from an experimental drug treatment.   He was recently admitted to hospital so that a tumour in his salivary glad could be dealt with.   The other story was of Colm Toibin, the novelist.  This was news to me but last year he was diagnosed with testicular cancer which had spread to a lung and his liver.  He goes into quite a bit of detail with regard to the discomfort he has suffered due to the disease and the very unpleasant  side effects he has endured.  

This kind of thing is not uncommon these days, people sharing their experiences of illness in print.  The first to make a major impact in the UK was the journalist John Diamond.  He was diagnosed with throat cancer in 1997 and wrote about his experiences in his weekly Sunday Times column.   This eventually became a book entitled C: Because Cowards Get Cancer Too.  

It’s only natural that men like James, Toibin and Diamond should write about their illnesses.  They are writers and writers write.  If they carry on bashing at the keys or scribbling on the paper then they feel more like themselves and as they go through debilitating and unpleasant treatment that can only be good.  Christopher Hitchens,  the writer and critic and another cancer sufferer, produced a 3,000 word book review in his final days despite severe pain and chronic fatigue.   The impulse to create is strong.    

The other aspect of this is the mutual support that can arise as a result of published experiences.  Diamond received a number of letters from people who were facing similar issues and enabled him to feel less isolated.  Others were grateful to see something like their own experiences in print.  We are constantly told that cancer is a very individual experience.  No two people are the same.  But it was encouraging for many to read Diamond’s column and to know that someone else understood and was finding a way through.  

It has been good for me to hear of other people’s experiences especially those who have endured the same treatment regimen and have come through to return to their normal work and family life.  You hold this before you in the difficult days.  But you always return to  the mantra: no two people are the same.  In the end, this is my personal experience and no one has ever felt this way about the illness and the treatment.   I have a backstory, a set or relationships, a range of priorities, a particular personality which when they come together form a unique life.  It’s the same with everyone.   So when illness becomes a factor in this then the experience and the response are similarly unique.  I can be inspired and encouraged by the stories of others but how far does this really take me?  In the end it is I with the cancer.   

The thing is I bring more to the cancer than just my backstory, relationships, priorities and personality.  My faith is in a God who became a human being and therefore knew the limitations of the human body and human psychology.   He experienced hunger and thirst; He felt His emotions rise with the joys of life and He mourned the suffering he observed; He experienced horrendous physical pain and even endured the loss of God.  The writer to the Hebrews says: ‘ We do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathise with our weaknesses . . .’  (Hebrews 4: 15)  The result of this is that we can approach Him in prayer with confidence knowing ‘that we might receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.’  (Hebrews 4: 16)  A God who has embraced the suffering of the world but knows the need of each individual, what they require in any moment, to continue to be the faithful witnesses he has called them to be.  

This is where the rubber of my life hits the road of God’s purpose.  So much of the journey is as yet unknown but that faith is possible which can say:

‘Because He lives I can face tomorrow;

 Because He lives all fear is gone;

 Because I know He holds the future,

 And life is worth the living

 Just because He lives.’  

Still Quarrying 41 - Darkness Defeated!

To wake up on Easter morning to brightness, warmth and birdsong.  It couldn’t be better.  But then comes the news of the bombings in Sri Lanka.  Christian lives wiped out as they gathered to celebrate the Risen Christ.  In face of this you realise that none of our canned responses will do, the things we let slide from our mouth without feeling in our hearts.  This is the world where hatred, prejudice and violence all thrive and where Christians are called to be faithful witnesses to the Resurrection.  That’s what the apostles called themselves in the early days.  (Acts 1: 22)  It was the Resurrection that threw light on the identity of Jesus and the purpose of His mission and this they would proclaim in word and in deed.    

Their world could be a savage place.  It was a time of political oppression, criminals were tortured to death in public and the time would come when Christians themselves would be persecuted.  Despite living a quiet life of devotion and service the Christian community was eventually unwelcome in Jerusalem.  Stephen was stoned and the believers were scattered.  But everywhere they went they preached the Word, they told the story of Jesus.  (Acts 8: 4)  This was the beginning of the evangelisation of the Roman Empire.  The darkest day in the Church’s history to that point was a springboard for mission.   Waves of hate may have been directed at them but they responded with the story of God’s love as it had been revealed in the life and mission of Jesus.  

I’ll probably never know what it’s like to be on the end of the kind of persecution that we have seen in Sri Lanka and therefore anything I say has to be with utmost humility.  What I believe, however, is that the deeper the darkness that falls upon us emphasises the necessity for Christians to continue to preach the God they know.  The God who revealed Himself in the life of a ‘man of sorrows’ but through those sorrows revealed the depth of His love for the whole of humankind.   We are called to preach this but also to show this to all those engulfed by the darkness.  The primary part of the fruit of the Spirit is love.  (Galatians 5: 22)  The primary response of all Christians to those with whom they have to do is love.   It’s just not enough to sound off about the barbarity of those who would carefully plan the destruction of others as they worshipped in Church.  Do our lives show a better way?  

I haven’t managed to get out to Church on the Lord’s Day as often as I would have liked during this time of illness.  It was good then to be at Temple Anniesland this morning and to be blessed under the ministry of Fiona Gardner.  The Lord’s Supper was celebrated and it was a great encouragement.  At one point in the service the children were asked to go round the congregation and give everyone a daffodil.  A man near me was given a yellow bud on the end of a green stalk.  The flower had not bloomed.  The expression on his face was priceless.  I saw my faith in that bud.  It is there but it needs to bloom, to be the dynamic force that we see in the first Christians, to be so sure of the love of God that I can face the worst and say with conviction ‘Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!’

I can get there if I stay close to the story and respond to every opportunity for service which shows that I have been truly touched by the love of the Father.  

Still Quarrying 40 - Saturday Experience.

The speaker on today’s ‘Thought For Today’ on Radio 4 said that Saturday in Holy Week is a ‘strange day’ largely because nothing much seems to have happened.  Only Matthew tells us of the chief priests and Pharisees going to Pilate to request that a guard be placed on Jesus tomb.  Interestingly they remembered Jesus prophecy if not His exact words: ‘After three days  I will rise again.‘   They anticipated that the disciples might steal the body and claim He had risen so a guard on the tomb would be welcome.   Pilate agreed.  A seal was placed on the tomb and a guard posted.  

That in itself is a powerful image.  The movers and shakers in the religious and political spheres doing their upmost to keep Jesus in the tomb.  Now that could keep me going for quite a while but let’s just stay with the idea that nothing much seemed to be happening on Holy Week Saturday.  Various myths and legends have emerged to explain the gap between Good Friday and Easter morning.   Prominent among them is the idea that Jesus descended to a place between heaven and hell where he preached the message of redemption to righteous souls in waiting.   We are in firmer ground, however, when we remember Jesus words to the penitent thief on the Cross.   Having previously mocked Jesus along with his fellow thief he now turns to Him: ‘Jesus remember me when you come into your kingdom.’  And Jesus answers: ‘I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.’  (Luke 23: 40-43)

Jesus knew that with the extinguishing of his life on earth, at that moment He would be returned to the Eternal World where His Father and the angels waited to welcome and acclaim Him.  Donald Macleod expresses this so well in his book The Crucified Christ: 

‘He was clinically dead, his body inanimate and separated from his soul (although still united to his divine person; it is the body of the Son of God that lies in the grave.)  But while his body lay inert in the grave, his soul was in paradise, at rest, rejoicing in the approbation of the Father, adored by the angels, acclaimed by the redeemed and at perfect peace with the outcome of  his mission.’  

This was unfolding beneath the surface of silence, disappointment and fear that was Saturday in Holy Week.  God was still in control and at work.  This would be revealed in all its fullness when the soul of Jesus would be united to a renewed body on Easter morning and the promise of renewal for the whole of humankind would be proclaimed.   

There is a sense in which the whole of humankind is going through a Saturday experience.   The Notre Dame fire, climate change protests, political upheaval in so many countries remind us that we are part of a broken world.  But beneath the surface God is in control and working out His good purpose for the whole of Creation.   ‘When you come into your Kingdom,’  said the thief.  That Kingdom has yet to be seen in all its fullness but Easter morning carries the promise that we are moving towards that time when everything that has ever made us cry will be evacuated from human experience.  Paul saw Jesus as ‘the firstborn among many brothers.’  (Romans 8: 29)  The Risen Christ stands as the archetype of all that God wishes for humanity, renewed in body, mind and spirit.   And it is as a renewed humanity that we will enjoy a renewed Creation.  

The tomb was sealed and guarded.  Nothing much more to expect then.  The reality beneath the surface was so different.  It is in that reality that we are called to live.  We face the brokenness of our time with sorrow and resolution but also in the faith that this is not the end of the human story.  ‘Our God is marching on!’  

Still Quarrying 39 - Good Friday.

It was Good Friday some years ago and I was on my way to the Cathedral to take part in the Three Hours Devotion when the seven words of Jesus on the Cross are remembered.  The radio was on and out came the voice of an angel.  Well, not really, an actress taking on the role of an angel and imagining what the death of Jesus looked like from the perspective of the angels.  Profound sadness was expressed at the way the Son of God was treated by the humankind He came to save.  Of course that had to be set against the purpose of His death which would ultimately see Jesus triumphant over sin and death.   But, said the angel, Good Friday would always carry a sadness for the angels because from that day onward Jesus would always be closer to humans than to them.   They had known Him from all eternity, he belonged to them, but Good Friday saw His experience as a human being completed.  As the writer of the Letter to the Hebrews might say, He was made ‘a little lower than the angels . . . so that He might taste death for everyone.‘   (Hebrews 2: 9)

It is something that sometimes gets lost in our Holy Week observance.  Eager to get through the ever deepening darkness of Jesus’ last week and to celebrate Easter morning we do not linger on the fact that Jesus died.   We are familiar with the limitations that His humanity placed on Him, the hunger, the tiredness, the temptations that could only come to Him as the appointed Saviour of the world.  But it is on the Cross that we see His humanity complete as He gives up His life. 

 How would the angels have reacted when they heard that cry more anguished than any ever heard in the history of humankind: ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’  (Mark 15: 34).  How can it be that the immortal Son of God is experiencing the loss of God?   But even as they wrestle with this the voice of Jesus rings out: ‘Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.’  (Luke 23: 46)  It is with a sense of the love of the Father and an assurance of His good purpose that Jesus offers His life and dies.  From that moment we can see Jesus as one who fully identifies with our human experience from His beginnings as a single cell in the womb of Mary until the extinguishing of His life on the Cross.  The writer to the Hebrews again: ‘We do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathise with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are - yet was without sin.’  (Hebrews 4: 15)  In every dark moment that would threaten to take us to the end of ourselves we can be sure that Jesus stands with us, even when we approach the final challenge.  

I once heard the writer William McIlvanney speak of his perspective on the lives we lead:  ‘We live as best we can before we go into a darkness we do not know.‘   The good news of Good Friday is that we do not go into that darkness alone.  The Psalmist was speaking from his own experience but surely the spirit of prophesy was upon him when he said:

‘Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil,

 for you are with me;

 your rod and your staff they comfort me.’  (Psalm 23: 4) 

We go into the darkness with Jesus who has been there before us and who has paid the price for our sin, made forgiveness possible,  and made the way clear for us to be eternally in the presence of the Father He trusted in the perfection and completeness of His Kingdom.     In Him we are in the company of One who is not only able to sympathise with our weaknesses but who through His death has secured our destiny to be part of the renewed Creation that was from the first in the mind of the Father.   The apostle John was given glimpses of this in his sufferings:

‘Never again will they hunger; never again will they thirst. The sun will not beat down on them,’nor any scorching heat.  For the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd; ‘he will lead them to springs of living water.’‘And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.’ ”  (Revelation 7: 17)

The angels may well be sad that in some ways Jesus in His being has been removed from them but I find it hard to believe that they grudge you and me a place in the final triumph of Jesus.  If they rejoice whenever a sinner repents they surely rejoice when we finally enjoy with them the glories of the Eternal Kingdom, a destiny that will forever mean that Friday in Holy Week is good.  

Still Quarrying 38 - Award.

To the Beatson yesterday not for treatment or a clinic but for a presentation.  Dr Richard Souter, Haematology Consultant, and Audrey Robb, Myeloma Clinical Nurse Specialist, have been working on a project to gain accreditation for the Beatson as a center of excellence for Myeloma.  There were eight categories of assessment and the Myeloma team achieved ‘excellent’ ratings in six.  The award and accreditation was presented by a representative of Myeloma UK.  

It was a privilege to be there as someone who continues to benefit from the dedication and expertise of the Myeloma Team.  In his remarks Dr Soutar paid tribute to the stoicism and patience of patients through the years who sometimes have had to endure long waits at clinics as well as demanding treatment.   That has to be set alongside the commitment of the medical staff to do their best for every patient in face of an ever increasing case load.  As a cancer Myeloma is still in the category of ‘rare’ but it is being diagnosed more readily and the pressure to provide an adequate response increases.  It was good to see that all the efforts of the Beatson in relation to Myeloma have been recognised nationally.  

There is a sense in which it was appropriate that the award was presented during Holy Week when the needs of others was the priority of Jesus to the extent that he surrendered his very life.  Thursday saw a number of events leading to the Cross but that with most detail is the washing of the disciples feet by Jesus.  (John 13: 1-17)  This was an astonishing thing to the disciples.  It was a job that would normally fall to a slave and yet here was the Master stripped of his clothes with a towel around his waist washing the feet of each of his friends.  There was a message here concerning the humility of Jesus but he made it clear that he was also setting an example:

“You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet.  I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you.  Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him.  Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.”  (John 13: 13-17)

Jesus making it clear that whatever should fall to each of the disciples in the future at the heart of their work for the Kingdom should be the commitment to set aside their own personal priorities and focus on the needs of others.   The self-sacrifice of Jesus was not just something to honour but something to embrace in the life of discipleship.  

Here’s Paul:

‘In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;  rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.  And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death— even death on a cross!’  (Philippians 2: 5-8)

Whenever this ‘mindset’ results in the giving of time, energy and resources for the good of others the values of Kingdom of God are pressing on our lives and showing us the way forward.  These signs of self-giving are to be celebrated and embraced.   What we receive out of the compassion of others is our motivation to give for the benefit of others.  

Still Quarrying 37 - Silence

I sometimes have to agree with Bruce Springsteen’s view of television: ’57 Channels And Nothin’ On’.  But it’s always when you want it most that it fails to deliver.  Quite simply our telly is on the blink.  One minute it was fine, the next it was making a noise like crushed cellophane and the rest was silence and a blank screen.  So you flick switches, stare at it, remembering Basil Fawlty and the good thrashing he gave his car with a tree branch.  But that’s it.  No telly tonight.  Not exactly a crisis, you understand  There’s the wireless, books, conversation.  The latter option admittedly dominated with plans for a new telly.  

The one thing you notice most is the silence.  Like most people we’ve got it on even when we are not paying much attention.  It’s almost as if we have a constant need to be distracted.  And modern technology makes distraction possible every minute of the day.  Out walking, running, gymning, travelling we can be plugged in to our favourite music. Years ago I heard a psychiatrist talking about people who on a train journey surround themselves with newspapers, magazines and books.  ‘Why not just enjoy the silence?’ he said.  

There was a moment last night when I could embrace that advice.  With Gabrielle at the Holy Week service, I was on my own with the permanently muted telly and I heard some birdsong.  Don’t ask me what species of bird but it was something that I would have missed if I had been watching the One Show.  

Silence can be a challenge however and that explains why we need distraction.  It’s in the silence that things we would rather forget are stirred up and anxieties about the future are exposed.  Some years ago I visited a friend who was very ill and found him in some distress.  It wasn’t pain or debility.   ‘It’s the demons,’ he said.  Taken out of his familiar routine and environment and at a moment of crisis he was having to face personal issues which were disturbing.  

Jesus enjoyed ‘the silence of eternity’.  We hear of him rising while it is still dark and finding a place where he can be alone in the presence of His Heavenly Father.  I believe these would be times of refreshment, renewal and encouragement.   His mission was demanding at so many different levels but he found time to be still in the presence of the Lord.   Gethsemene was a different kind of experience.  He had company but in the end he was very much alone as he contemplated the outworking of His mission and all that would be demanded of him.  We are told that ‘he began to be deeply distressed and troubled.‘   He said to Peter, James and John: ‘My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.’  (Mark 14: 33-34)  No serene posture here but rather an anguished clawing of the ground.  (Mark 14: 35)

It is awe-inspiring to envisage Jesus like this but as in so many things his darkest moments are our reassurance.  Whatever the silence presents to us he has been there and he holds us in that grasp which will never be loosened.  Speaking of those who are His sheep the Good Shepherd says: 

‘I give them eternal life and they shall never perish; no on can snatch them out of my hand.’  (John 10: 28)

Still Quarrying 36 - Building

It has stood for centuries as a place of worship and a ‘must see’ tourist attraction and yet its utter destruction was threatened within hours.  If we were ever in any doubt as to the destructive power of fire then the images from Paris as the flames tore through Notre Dame Cathedral should settle that once for all.  Fire is no respecter of the age or significance of any building.  Thankfully the news this morning is better.  We are told that the ‘essential structure’ of the Cathedral remains and that rebuilding is more than just a possibility.  Furthermore, a number of French millionaires have pledged financial support and President Macron has spoken of a world-wide appeal on the basis that the influence of Notre Dame has crossed many national boundaries.  

The place of buildings in the life of the Christian Church has often been a source of anxious thought and sometimes bitter dispute.  When something needs to be done to repair or restore some other need deemed more worthy can always be found.  People’s attachment to a building is thought to be spiritually unhealthy.  It may have been the place where generations have been baptised and married and where thanksgiving has been offered for lives lived in the faith but what in the end has that contributed to the Christ’s building project, the strengthening of His Kingdom on the earth?   Have our energies been focussed on maintaining a monument rather than resourcing a movement of people called to work and pray for the coming of the Kingdom?

It would be churlish to dismiss questions like these because there is a sense in which they get to the heart of what is the nature of the Church.  I have no problem with Christians having designated buildings for worship and fellowship.  I believe that these buildings can be a symbol of God’s presence in the midst of a community.  But they will only be truly meaningful if they house a people who realise the vision of the Church set forward from the beginning.  Acts 2: 42 speaks of a people who were ‘devoted to the apostles teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer.’  This in a sense is the ‘essential structure’ of the Church.  A people who are seeking to embrace more of God’s truth, to experience more of God in worship, to receive the blessings of the Sacraments and to engage in prayer.  It is from this that the Holy Spirit builds a people who share and care and through their joyful witness ‘add to their number daily.’  (Acts 2: 47)

It has been in attempt to recapture this vision that so many projects for renewal and reform have been set in motion.  That can only be deemed commendable although it often results in further division and schism.  What is happening in western Christianity at present, however, could be seen to be beyond the plans and programs of men and women.  Is it possible that God is stripping back the material comfort blanket of the mainstream Church and forcing us to confront and embrace the ‘essential structure’ of His Church?  Perhaps for too long the Church has been seen as part of the fabric of society when we should be weaving an independent pattern that raises society closer to the Kingdom of God.  As we break the ground on the twenty-first century the Church’s place seems to be more and more on the margins but this is where the apostles began with their clear objectives and their simple lifestyle.   They were a people who were confident of who they were, the message they were to proclaim and the purpose of their mission.   

We need to recover this no matter what it takes.  Tuesday in Holy Week is traditionally a time to remember the conflict Jesus experienced as he moved towards the ultimate sacrifice.  He faced the slippery and hostile questions of his enemies who were not interested in his answers but only in how far they could discredit him in the eyes of the people.  (Mark 12: 1-27)  From a Roman perspective this would be close to inexplicable, proof if it were needed how obscure these people could be.  All devout and claiming to be walking in the ways of their God yet unable to agree.   That may well be the impression left by the Church in our own time, not only between denominations, but within denominations and even within congregations.   There are still voices that will loudly protest that this is a sign of health and strength, that we are always willing to debate and discuss.   But this has to set against the report of the first Church historian who found in the apostolic Church a people who were ‘one in heart and mind.‘   (Acts 4: 32).  This is a picture of a people who are in no doubt as to their ‘essential structure’ and upon this are seeking to build a witness that would embrace the whole of humankind.  

The thing is, the building will go on.  Jesus has promised: ‘I will build my Church and the gates of hell will not overcome it.’  (Matthew 16: 18)  The choice is between spiritual navel-gazing and a step into that unstoppable surge towards the Kingdom.   We have the ‘essential structure’.  May the power of the Holy Spirit now enable us to build.  

Still Quarrying 35 - Holy Week.

I was brought up in a church that went in for Holy Week in a big way.   There was a short service to begin the day at 7. 45 am which some people attended before work and a longer service in the evening at 7. 30 pm usually attended by whatever organisation may have been meeting at that time.  The whole parish was leafleted to make it known that here was an opportunity to reflect on the events that had shaped human civilisation like none before or since.   I don’t recall a major response.  It was largely church folk who attended the services but nothing is lost when we are telling the story of Jesus last week on earth.  And surely that has to be a priority today.  When Christmas and Easter come around ministers look for a new spin on things when preparing talks for special services.   What can we do to grab the attention?  We tend to forget the story itself has power as it unfolds in the Gospels.   

There may be disagreement among scholars as to the exact chronology of Jesus last week but the traditional pattern of events is helpful enabling us to explore the themes of Jesus priorities, his response to conflict, his appreciation of rest, his suffering and death.  

‘Tell me the old, old story

Of unseen things above,

Of Jesus and his glory,

Of Jesus and his love.’ 

It’s a long time since I have sung that hymn but it highlights the need of the hour, for the Church to tell the story for it is through the story that faith is born and grows stronger.   We cannot fulfill the Great Commission to make disciples of all nations unless we tell the story.   Paul reminds us:

‘How . . . can they call on the one they have not believed in?  And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard?  And how can they hear without someone preaching to them?‘  (Romans 10: 14)  

The story has to be told so that men and women come to faith in the One at the heart of the story.   That surely has to be the prayer that drives all our Holy Week and Easter devotions, that ‘Jesus and his love’ will dawn upon the souls of some and become stronger in the souls of those already committed.   That has to be the double thrust of all Christian proclamation.  Monday in Holy Week is traditionally the day to remember Jesus ‘cleansing’ the Temple.  The dust of Palm Sunday has settled, expectations are still high with regard to Jesus’ identity and intentions.  It would be entirely understandable if many expected  some kind of political demonstration against the pagan Roman invaders.  But Jesus first action after his entry to Jerusalem is to go to the Temple and highlight the spiritual decay of the nation.  There may be political problems in Israel but the core problem is spiritual.   There is dislocation in the relationship of God and His people.  

It is this in the end that makes Jesus so much of a threat and so unpopular.   He just went too deep for so many.  But this is why he came.

‘O loving wisdom of our God!

 When all was sin and shame,

 A second Adam to the fight

 And to the rescue came.’

The fall away from God represented by Adam was to be reversed by Jesus as he exposed the sin of humankind and through his death made forgiveness and renewal possible.    

With all the complex political problems facing our nation and the world at this time it may seem completely incongruous to be speaking in these terms.   Decisions have to be made, practical measures carried out, let’s think about deeper things when we have time and leisure!   But it was in the political heat of a tense Jerusalem that Jesus make clear what  was the need of Israel and indeed the whole of humankind.  Not reconstruction, not even reformation, but deliverance from that power within us all that stands against God.   This is not an easy story to tell but we need to stick to it.   I’m praying that at the end of this Holy Week the Church has a surer grasp of the story and its power to renew and rebuild.  

Still Quarrying 34 - The Wrong Man?

Saturday is ‘Guardian Day’ for me and invariably a look at the regular ‘Q&A’ in the magazine. This is where celebrities are asked a series of questions designed to give us some insight into their lives.  If you are ever asked to participate you will need to be prepared for this one: ‘What is your guiltiest pleasure?‘   Last week the ‘presenter’ Rylan Clark-Neal responded: ‘Going home, taking my makeup off and watching reruns of Birds Of A Feather.’  I think I could pass on both of those but we all have them those pleasures that perhaps we would rather keep to ourselves.  Until recently for me there may have been two in a tie: Rocky movies and Stephen King novels.   Since I confessed to the Rocky movies in a sermon just before my time off I no longer feel guilty about those.  That’s how it works isn’t it?  Get it off you chest!  But the Stephen King novels remain.  ‘Guilty pleasure’ largely because of the way they are perceived.  He is known as a ‘horror’ writer and certainly in the early days that is how he made his name.   But the number of serious writing awards he has received apart from his undoubted popularity is testimony to  the quality of his work.  It’s not what you would call ‘high’ literature but in the course of a novel he can provide some useful insight into the deficiences of modern society and manages also to convey a sense of warmth in his characters.  

One of his most recent recent novels is The Outsider.  I would not even think of giving you the whole plot since you’ll be dying to get to Waterstones after this blog.  But at the heart of the story there are two men who have been charged with horrendous crimes which they did not commit and which in the State they live carry a capital sentence.   This has become a recurring theme in literature and film.  It comes up time and time again in the work of film director Alfred Hitchcock, notably in The Wrong Man, the true story of Manny Balestrero who is identified as the man who twice robbed an insurance agency at gunpoint even though he has alibis for both occasions.  The resulting legal case has a destructive effect on his and his families lives which is painful to watch.

We can take this further back into Scripture.  Psalm 35 is one of the most heart-rending of all the Psalms.  David is faced with false accusations from people who were his friends in the past and who he cared for: ‘Ruthless witnesses come forward ; they question me on things I know nothing about.’  (verse 11)  ‘They do not speak peaceably, but devise false accusations against those who live quietly in the land.’  (verse 20).   Again David in Psalm 69 complains to God:  

‘Those who hate me without reason outnumber the hairs of my head;

 many are my enemies without cause, those who seek to destroy me.

 I am forced to restore what I did not steal.’  (verse 4).

This points forward to Jesus.  When he was arrested false accusations were brought against him which even Pontius Pilate found difficult to sustain and actually led him to pronounce Jesus innocent.  (John 19: 6).   Innocent in law but at a higher level not known to Pilate innocent before God since Jesus was ‘without sin.’  (Hebrews 4: 15)  And yet this is the One who was called upon to pay the price for the world’s sin through His death on the Cross.  He was the Wrong Man but the only Man who could make that sufficient sacrifice.  

This has been a problem for many people.  How is it possible for an innocent to take the blame for the worlds sin?  Is there not an injustice there that undermines the whole concept?  In response we can start at a human level.  It is not unknown for people innocent of misdemeanor to step forward and take the blame in order to protect others.  Maximilian Kolbe was a Fransciscan priest imprisoned in Auschwitz concentration camp where he continued against the odds to exercise a ministry to the suffering.  There was an escape attempt and the camp commander ordered that ten men be starved to death in an underground bunker.  One of those cried out for mercy for the sake of his wife and children.  Kolbe stepped forward to take his place.  After two weeks Kolbe was still alive and had to be killed by an injection of carbolic acid.  

It is not a perfect example since the reprieved man was not guilty of any misdemeanor but in Kolbe we see something in the human psyche that is willing to place oneself in the firing line so that another might be spared suffering.   Take this to a higher level where an offering was needed to pay the price of sin which could only be made by the Son of God.   He absorbed the condemnation we deserve so that we could have peace with God and live according to the values of His Kingdom.   The Wrong Man made the choice that made us righteous in the eyes of God:

You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die.  But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.  Since we have now been justified by his blood, how much more shall we be saved from God’s wrath through him!  (Romans 5: 6-8)

The questions will continue and that is only right.  We grow as we grapple with the deep things of our faith and the coming Easter season will give us opportunity so to do.  In the end though I come up against the heart of our faith which in a way is unfathomable but can be most simply expressed:

‘It is a thing most wonderful,

 Almost too wonderful to be,

That God’s own Son should come from heaven,

 And die to save a child like me.’  

Still Quarrying 33 - Kindness.

When all this started ten years ago I had a number of tests to go through: blood analysis, MRI scan, x-ray, bone marrow analysis.  Each was demanding in its own way but more particularly the MRI scan.  Things have moved on but at the time it was claustrophobic with head clamped, a heavy pad placed on the chest and, of course, very little room for movement.  At times I was instructed to hold my breath for what seemed a lung-bursting time and being a full-body scan it lasted a full hour.  I was allowed to listen to music and left that to the discretion of the operators so I have the indelible memory of hearing Dolly Parton pleading with Jolene not to take her man and Tammy Wynette exhorting all wronged women nevertheless to stand by their men.  ‘Sometimes it’s hard to be a woman . . .’  

However, a stronger memory will always be the sense of care that filled the scanning suite.  I don’t know how many people had passed through that day but the staff managed to convey the sense that they were waiting just for me.  They were sensitive to my vulnerability and the challenge that lay ahead, did everything to put me at ease and were patient with questions they must have heard dozens of times before.   During the actual scan there were frequent enquires as to how I was doing along with the  reminders to stay as still as I possibly could.    

It was difficult but you have to keep your mind settled on the reality that if they are going to get to the root of the problem this is something you have to undergo.  That along with the assurance that God is as much present in a cramped MRI scanner as He is in the most breathtaking landscape helped me through: ‘Where can I go from your Spirit?  Where can I flee from your presence?’  (Psalm 139: 7)

When it was all over I was exhausted but dressed again and about to leave I felt a deep impulse to say to all the staff: ‘Thank you for your kindness.’  I was in no doubt that something came from them that strengthened me from within.  From that moment I believe I have been more sensitive to the value of kindness when it touches me. Not that this should be a surprise.  When Paul was analysing the conflict at the heart of every Christian life between ‘the sinful nature’ and the Holy Spirit he saw the Spirit setting the pace for us in seeking to produce ‘love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.’  (Galatians 5: 22-23).  

The commentators sometimes have some difficulty sorting out the distinctiveness in each of these qualities but Joseph A. Pipa is surely close to the mark:

‘Kindness is the gracious attitude that seeks the well-being of our neighbour.  It is . . . the exercise of compassion and tenderness . . . We promote greatness in our children and one another by gentleness and kindness, by having a heart that reaches out to and longs to see good things come to those around us.  We combine a kind countenance with kind words and acts as we interact with those whom God brings into our lives.  As we do so we manifest the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ.‘  

However it is seen, none are in doubt that kindness is among the qualities of Christ-likeness and therefore flow from the very heart of God.  This is where God is seeking to lead us, to make us more like Jesus, and our response must always be ‘to keep in step with the Spirit’, to connect with the purpose God cherishes for our lives.   (Galatians 5: 25)   

I keep a photo in my study of myself crossing the line at the 1984 Glasgow Marathon.  We were in Stevenston at the time and in preparation I would often go out with some of the local runners.  I remember the first time I ran sixteen miles.  It was a very warm day, we hadn’t made any provision for water, and I think around the twelve mile mark I began to struggle.   Everyone else was a bit more experienced than I so it began to become more obvious.  However, probably the best runner of us all dropped back to give me some encouragement.  ‘Just keep on my shoulder,’ he said.  And when I seemed to be dropping back he would bark: ‘On my shoulder!  On my shoulder!’  The result was we came in ahead of the pack singing ‘Eye Of The Tiger.’  

God is calling us to stay on the shoulder of the Spirit, to practise those qualities that will bring his presence into our broken, confused and painful world.   And whenever we experience these qualities we are assured of His love for us and His good purpose for our lives.   Some might question if true kindness can flow from a life that does not acknowledge Jesus as Lord.  My response would be to affirm that we know when we have received a kind word or gesture and it is always good.  Our prayer should be that wherever the giver stands with Christ that they will come to acknowledge the source of that goodness that has made such a difference to another.  The power of all art is that in some way it connects with the Creator God.  The power of human kindness is that in some way it connects with the Compassionate God.   

My experience in the MRI suite did not invite deep analysis.  I knew I had been touched by something that went beyond professional competence and it was necessary to give thanks not only to the staff but also to the God who makes such kindness possible.  

Still Quarrying 32 - Taste And See.

Do you talk about disturbance in ‘taste’?   That’s the way I’ve been thinking about it.  It’s not that I have lost my taste.  It’s just that things taste differently and sometimes not very nice.  The problem is that it’s things I’m particularly fond of that have gone off.  Porridge tastes like sand.  (Yes, I have tasted sand.)  Coffee, even the best espresso, tastes as if someone has added a table-spoon of sugar.  My scrambled eggs taste as if someone has sneaked in a Cadbury’s Creme Egg.   It’s weird but apparently a common side effect of the drug regime I am on.  Another down side is that there is a craving for sweet things.  It’s been years since I ate Crunchy Nut Corn Flakes but they have taken the place of the porridge.  Tea with honey instead of coffee. Fighting this, though, with big fruit consumption.  That’s helping.  

It’s one of those things you take for granted, taste, and you never really think about it too much.  As sure as you see, walk, breathe, you taste and it’s challenging to think that something so fundamental to being has changed.  Will it ever come back as it was before?      This is where the words of the Psalmist have to kick in: ‘Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him.  Do not fret . . .’  (Psalm 37: 7)

It’s interesting how the ancient voices of faith describe our experiences of God as being like tasting.  A favourite verse recited at the Lord’s Supper is: 

‘Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him.‘   (Psalm  34: 8)

Jesus said:

‘Very truly I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise them up at the last day.  For my flesh is real food and my blood is real drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in them. Just as the living Father sent me and I live because of the Father, so the one who feeds on me will live because of me.’  (John 6: 53-57)

The question that burns in many a heart is how can we taste God?  When we consider God, the Creator and Sustainer of the Universe,  how is it possible for us to be touched in any way by Him?  How is it possible for us to think of ourselves in any sense in a relationship with Him?  The answer might seem formulaic, even glib.  It is easy to rattle off what have been called the traditional ‘disciplines’ of Christian spirituality: prayer, meditation on the Word, worship including the Lord’s Supper.  (We’ll leave out fasting for the moment . . .)  But when you get down to it, what else is there  if we wish our awareness of God’s love and goodness to deepen?  That’s where we have to begin.  To realise that God is seeking to engage with us, to assure us of His love and goodness, and we become more aware of this as we open up our lives in prayer, meditation, worship and, yes,  fasting.    

There are no techniques we can employ to ‘taste’ God.  I once heard a young woman on the radio speaking of her conversion to Christianity and in her enthusiasm deciding to follow the Franciscan Order Of Daily Prayer.  Within a week she was exhausted and burdened with a sense of failure until a friend pointed out that this Order was devised by celibate men whose whole lives were dedicated to prayer.  It just wasn’t for busy young Mums and the demanding routine of things that need to be done.  

What we can all find are moments to respond to God as He is reaching out to us, moments when our awareness of His love and goodness are enhanced, moments when He alone is our goal, moments when we can taste and see.   It is a very individual thing.  In fact, it would be wrong for anyone to impose their practise on anyone else.  It may not fit but I believe there is more than just a tremour among the angels when a Christian acknowledges in the quietness of his or her heart: ‘My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him.’  (Psalm 62: 1)  

Maybe we don’t always get the ‘hit’ that we feel we need when we engage in prayer, meditation and worship.  But remember there are no techniques we can hang over God.  He cannot be forced or manipulated.   We can only receive what he has to give in a particular moment but whatever it is because it is from Him it is loving and it is good.  I gave up referring to a ‘quiet time’ long ago.  Realising the presence of God could be for me a very ‘unquiet time’ when shadows had to be faced and the call was more firmly to turn myself to the light.  What has been called ‘the dark night of the soul’ was more than just an interesting idea.  But in all these experiences God’s love for us is never denied and His good purpose continues to unfold.  We are still tasting and seeing that God is good and that His love endures forever.  

Maybe as in everything in relation to God we need more humility and to be satisfied with what he gives.  An old hymn, rarely sung now, comes to mind:

Spirit of God, descend upon my heart; 

wean it from earth; through all its pulses move; 

stoop to my weakness, mighty as thou art, 

and make me love thee as I ought to love. 

I ask no dream, no prophet ecstasies, 

no sudden rending of the veil of clay, 

no angel visitant, no opening skies; 

but take the dimness of my soul away. 

Has thou not bid me love thee, God and King? 

All, all thine own, soul, heart and strength and mind. 

I see thy cross; there teach my heart to cling. 

O let me seek thee, and O let me find. 

Teach me to feel that thou art always nigh; 

teach me the struggles of the soul to bear. 

To check the rising doubt, the rebel sigh, 

teach me the patience of unanswered prayer. 

Teach me to love thee as thine angels love, 

one holy passion filling all my frame; 

the kindling of the heaven-descended Dove, 

my heart an altar, and thy love the flame. 

My taste may have departed - hopefully temporarily - but that only emphasises that deeper, more permanent, more fundamental need to taste my God as He reaches out to me in this most challenging of times.

‘Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him.‘  (Psalm 34: 8) 

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.’