Restless Wonderer

Few gifts really change your life.  Advertisers aim to convince you that the thing they want to sell is something you want.  The best adverts go further, persuading you that what you want is actually something you need.  Ignorance becomes desire, which becomes longing.  The Old Testament prophets who foretold the future day of God’s deliverance generated longing among Israel’s faithful.  Yet centuries of dashed hopes and false starts that followed the return of a remnant from Babylonian exile made their prophecies sound like a breach of the Trades Description Act.  You said we’d have God’s universal peace – instead we’ve got the so-called ‘Roman peace’.  We want our money back! There were those in Israel who held stubbornly to hope and Simeon was one.  Indeed God had given him a special revelation that he would not die without seeing the Messianic Age.  As Mary and Joseph brought the baby into the Temple, the Spirit brought Simeon.  Seeing through eyes of faith who Jesus was, Sime

You’ve probably experienced the scenario of the unwanted Christmas present.  The sinking feeling and feigned gratitude as the paper falls away to reveal another pair of socks, bottle of smelly stuff or saggy hand-knitted jumper.  Or the hollowness in someone’s eyes as they mumble that your gift really will be useful.  Unwanted gifts often reflect on the giver – a lack of understanding (‘I’m sure he’ll like this – I would’) or simply desperation (‘I’ve got to give her something!’).  Occasionally, though, they reflect something wrong in the recipient – lack of self-awareness (‘If only they knew it, this is just what they really need’) or ingratitude born from resentment (‘I don’t want anything from him!’)  So it was with King Herod. Herod’s image as the pantomime villain of the nativity play is largely supported by the historical sources.  This king of Judea, a client of the Romans, was ruthless, opportunistic and megalomaniacal, his one redeeming feature being his grandiose bui

There is an art to wrapping Christmas presents and I don’t have it!  My wife does.  What she can do with a sheet of paper, a ribbon and a pair of scissors never ceases to amaze me.  I remember ‘earning’ a badge for wrapping books in the uniformed youth organisation I attended, but I suspect now that either there was some corruption in the system or that my leaders were men of great pity. Mary is one of the most outstanding figures in Scripture.  She is a model of prayer, praise, meditation and adoration.  She is not to be venerated, but her example can certainly be emulated.  The part of Mary in the incarnation is both passive and active.  In one sense she simply had to accept what God had planned – her simple response was the heart of all true prayer, the words of God's servant: "let it be to me according to your word".  She didn’t make the baby grow – what mother does? She was, in one sense, the wrapping of the present, the protective shell around the precious gift o

In the nativity plays Joseph is often a bit of an ‘extra’ – it’s not quite clear what he’s for.  Admittedly, he didn’t have a part directly in Jesus’ conception or birth, but if Jesus was God’s gift then Joseph was the delivery man.  Joseph was spoken to by God through dreams four times: first to assure him that he should take the pregnant girl to be his wife; then to warn him to flee to Egypt in the face of the treachery of the false king Herod; and finally twice to tell him to return to Israel and specifically to Nazareth.  As the delivery man, it is Joseph who makes sure that God’s gift gets on time to where it needs to be – Bethlehem, Egypt, Nazareth. There is more than a passing resemblance between Mary’s husband and his ancient namesake, the son of Jacob (see Genesis 37-50).  Both were spoken to in dreams and went to Egypt in order to rescue God’s people through their simple trust, their integrity of character and their obedience in the face of opposition.  They played their p

It’s not even December and I can’t escape the constant chitter chatter about what to get for Christmas.  My children are running around with Argos catalogues, wanting to write their lists, and my inbox is bulging with marketing emails.  To add to my woes, two words which I refuse to name and which, until a couple of years ago, I had never associated with one another – black is a colour I had traditionally reserved for Mondays – have now become unavoidable. Amidst all this hype I can’t think of a single item I want for Christmas, which probably says more about the plenty I live in than any virtue of my heart.  Of course, I don’t have everything and I am not ‘rich’ by the standards of this country, but when I step back and consider how much stuff I possess compared to all previous generations it is quite staggering.  We twenty-first century Westerners, it seems to me, are materially rich, yet relationally and spiritually poor.  We know the price of everything and the value of nothin

Silence and speech; emptiness and meaning.  These may seem like opposites, but Psalm 19 suggests otherwise.  In this psalm, one of the most beautiful examples of Hebrew poetry, David describes God’s revelation of Himself, firstly through nature and then through words.  The psalm opens with the declaration that the heavens and sky declare God’s glory and creativity.  We might expect David to focus on the heavenly beings – sun, moon and stars – and, indeed, in verses 4-6 he does describe the sun’s majesty, but in verses 1-3 it is the empty space of the sky that is said to have meaning.  The silent expanse of emptiness is speaking – spreading it’s message of a glorious creator across the globe.  As the sun bursts like a resplendent bridegroom into the sky it simply magnifies what would still be evident if it never rose.  Creation is pointing to creator. Yet powerful as this general revelation in creation may be – and many people have been led by their observations of the intricacies

Contentment is a rare quality.  Personally speaking, I struggle a lot with restlessness – a feeling that I’ve not yet settled down and that there is more to achieve.  Others may struggle with the same emotion but in relation to something else – wanting to have more or to experience more.  I’ve no doubt that some of my restlessness is healthy – it arises from that deep sense that this world is not our ultimate home, that we are made for God and for the new creation He will reveal when Christ returns.  At the same time, however, I could too easily make that a rationalisation for a kind of discontent that is destructive and, frankly, ungodly.  In Psalm 16 David points to three things in which he delights.  These lead him to a place of satisfaction in the present at the same time as trusting in God for his ultimate, eternal future.  As you read through this psalm, two of the sources of delight are obvious – in verse 3 David says he delights in God’s holy people and in verse 6 he says

The psalms are chronicles of the human heart.  They express the movements of emotion that typify the human experience as the writers pour out their feelings in honesty to God.  They are often masterclasses in talking to oneself as the psalmists preach to their hearts, exhorting their inmost being to greater trust, and higher praise.  Psalm 13 is a brilliant example of this skill.  It falls neatly into three short stanzas, each consisting of two verses in our modern translations and each expressing a different emotion. Stanza one (verses 1-2) is a heart-wrenching cry of desperation.  How long will God remain silent and apparently uninvolved?  How long will David have to struggle with the thoughts that plague him?  How long must he be in sorrow while his enemies seem to succeed?  Of course we know that the God of Scripture is never absent, never uninvolved and never disinterested – David sings about these truths in some of his other psalms.  The problem is he doesn’t feel it right n

The concept of the ‘god complex’ was first described by British psychoanalyst Ernest Jones.  He argued that some people had such an inflated and delusional view of their own importance and their own ‘rightness’ that they basically believed themselves to be God (or at least a god).  Now, you might be thinking of someone you know right now (hopefully you’re not thinking of me!) – someone who seems to have an unshakeable conviction that they are right and that others are wrong; someone who can’t admit to weakness or fallibility; someone who acts as if the universe revolved around them.  Thankfully there are very few people, in my experience at least, who genuinely fit that description, but the reality is that we all have a degree of the ‘god complex’, at least at times.  Some of us are just better at hiding it than others!  Ever since Adam blamed Eve and Eve blamed the snake, we’ve had a problem owning up to our own sinfulness.  Ever since the fallen couple clasped at leaves to cover the

Human beings occupy an interesting place in the universal scale of size.  We sit somewhere in the middle of the range of organisms we can see with our own eyes – smaller than trees, whales and elephants; bigger than daisies, goldfish and mice.  More significantly, though, the advances of science in the last century or so have shown that we sit somewhere in the middle of the overall scale of size of objects in the universe.  We are unbelievably large compared to subatomic particles and inconceivably small when measured against the galaxies.  We sit like a race of Gullivers with amazing ability to measure and observe both the universe that dwarfs us and the miniscule world to which we are giants.  More puzzling, though, we sit here and wonder what our own significance is.  We are the only creature on planet earth that asks questions like “What is a human being?” and “Why are we here anyway?”  Other organisms seem to just get on with being what they are, while we expend huge energy tryin

Although I’ve never seen it, apparently there is an inscription on the Reformation Wall (a monument to reformers) in Geneva that reads: un homme avec Dieu est toujours dans la majorité .  Translation: “one man with God is always in the majority”.  A statement like that could sound arrogant or be abused as a cover for some very bad behaviour (who are you to question me – God agrees with me?), but the sentiment it expresses finds a rich basis in Scripture, not least in Psalm 3.  This poem is an insight into the thoughts of King David when he was on the run from his rebellious son, Absalom.  Admittedly David had made some pretty big mistakes that had helped to foment the uprising led by this most photogenic of his progeny, but the fact remains that David was God’s anointed king.  The sheer number of people who turned away from David in this moment is astounding as we read about it in 2 Samuel.  It seems that David was left with the barest handful of loyal followers and many of his enemie

The second psalm contrasts with the first in that it expands the horizon way beyond the contrast between individuals that Psalm 1 describes to a vision of nations in conspiracy against God and His anointed one.  The historical context is almost certainly the vassal nations that had been subdued by David and had given tribute to his descendants who were now rebelling against their overlord in Jerusalem.  The anointed king in David’s line whom God has place as ruler of Judah is being conspired against as these nations begin to assert their own identity, casting off his shackles.  Yet as the Spirit guides the psalmist, this regional turmoil becomes symbolic of a greater conflict – the mass rebellion of humankind against our Creator.  We have rejected God’s rule over us, accusing Him of despotism and believing we can be masters of our own destiny.  The anointed becomes not merely a king in David’s line, but the ultimate davidic ruler, the Messiah.  It is the response of the nations to Ch

Permanence is undervalued in our culture.  Move with the times, change with the seasons, go with the flow are the themes of this age.  Upload, update and upgrade!  I used to read Psalm 1 through this lens and I saw a progressive slowing down in the verbs of verse 1: walking in wicked counsel gives way to standing in sinful ways and finally sitting and scoffing.  This activist is gradually grinding to a halt where he should have been pressing ever onwards to new and better things.  What made me reassess this interpretation is what comes after the ‘but’ in verse 2.  The blessed man – the role model for the reader – is not more active than the trio of verse 1, but less so!  He meditates day and night on God’s law, which certainly doesn’t conjure up images of movement and busyness.  Of course it is possible to meditate on the move, but the image of the tree in verse 3 adds to the sense that this person isn’t going anywhere very quickly.  Trees don’t move (unless you’re reading Tolkien

This week's blog post is later in the day than normal and will be fairly brief.  It starts a new series in which I'm planning to look at some of the psalms (who knows, I might end up doing all 150!)  The style of these posts will be more devotional than recent series.  I encourage you if you read to take time to read over the psalm in question before you read my comments and to chew over it (meditate is the technical term) throughout your day. The psalms have long been a key book in the devotion of God's people throughout the ages.  Within Israel they were the nation's hymnbook, used in the worship of God in the Temple.  They expressed the highs and lows of the nations moods, ranging from the depths to the highest of heights.  They blend together the corporate ('we') and individual ('I') dimensions of praise and chart the path of living faith as it winds through life's challenges and questions.  Their constant orientation is towards God and they pa

Christ’s life was a pattern of the perfect human life.   In His incarnation He modelled to us what perfect obedience to His Father looks like.   As He contemplated His return to the Father’s side He was able to say to those who had followed Him closely for three years that He was sending them into the world as He had been sent.   Not only does the message of Christian mission centre on Jesus, but the means of Christian mission should look a lot like Jesus!   We must remember that Jesus was speaking in John 20 to the men who would be foundational apostles in His Church.   The authority they have to forgive sins on earth is not something we possess today.   They remain authoritative for the Church in all ages through their gospel, recorded in the New Testament.   The Church of the present continues the mission they began, going into the world in Jesus’ name. As we do this, we learn many lessons from the example of Christ: Sent to complete God’s work in each place, we bear testimo

They are not of the world, even as I am not of it. Sanctify them by the truth; your word is truth. As you sent me into the world, I have sent them into the world. For them I sanctify myself, that they too may be truly sanctified.   ‘My prayer is not for them alone. I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message, that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me.   I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one –   I in them and you in me – so that they may be brought to complete unity. Then the world will know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me. Few Bible passages can compare with the majesty John 17.   In this amazing chapter, following His teaching in the upper room, Jesus prays to His Father.   The prayer is an insight into the relationship they have enjoyed eternally.   It reveals the heart of Ch

When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place. ‘Do you understand what I have done for you?’ he asked them.   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…. Very truly I tell you, whoever accepts anyone I send accepts me; and whoever accepts me accepts the one who sent me.’ The pace changes in John 13 as we are given an insight into Jesus’ most intimate moments with His disciples.   Leading up to this point, ever since the journey to Jerusalem for the Festival of Tabernacles, John’s account has told of increasingly intense confrontation between Jesus   and the re

‘ Who are you?’ they asked.   ‘Just what I have been telling you from the beginning,’ Jesus replied. ‘I have much to say in judgment of you. But he who sent me is trustworthy, and what I have heard from him I tell the world.’   They did not understand that he was telling them about his Father. So Jesus said, ‘When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am he and that I do nothing on my own but speak just what the Father has taught me.   The one who sent me is with me; he has not left me alone, for I always do what pleases him.’   Even as he spoke, many believed in him. Jesus was sent into the world by His Father.   Jesus was the perfect Son of God who went to the cross in obedience to His Father.   Jesus took our place on the cross, bearing God’s punishment for our sin.   The Father poured out His wrath upon the Son.   This is orthodox Christian teaching (the technical term is ‘penal substitution’ since the substitute takes the penalty for our sin), but it i

Not until halfway through the festival did Jesus go up to the temple courts and begin to teach. The Jews there were amazed and asked, ‘How did this man get such learning without having been taught?’ Jesus answered, ‘My teaching is not my own. It comes from the one who sent me. Anyone who chooses to do the will of God will find out whether my teaching comes from God or whether I speak on my own. Whoever speaks on their own does so to gain personal glory, but he who seeks the glory of the one who sent him is a man of truth; there is nothing false about him. The Feast of Tabernacles was the last of seven annual celebrations given to Israel by God.   These dates in the calendar marked the seasons and enfolded the year in gratitude to God.   Tabernacles, specifically, reminded the nation that their ancestors had lived in tents as they wandered through the desert.   It challenged them to be thankful for God’s provision of a permanent home where they could live and serve Him.   John 7

For I have come down from heaven not to do my will but to do the will of him who sent me. And this is the will of him who sent me, that I shall lose none of all those he has given me, but raise them up at the last day. For my Father’s will is that everyone who looks to the Son and believes in him shall have eternal life, and I will raise them up at the last day.’ John 6 opens with the only miracle, other than the resurrection, that is recorded in all four Gospels – the feeding of more than five thousand hungry people on a hillside beside the Sea of Galilee.   The miracle is a demonstration both of Jesus’ identity as the Good Shepherd (the act of feeding people as they rest on green grass, followed by stilling of waters is reminiscent of Psalm 23) and of His ability to provide for His sheep.   It is also an illustration for the disciples of their Master’s provision for their needs (the 12 leftover baskets are perfectly sized lunchboxes for each of them) as they distribute His provi