Cabanga

I got a rather odd email today. It came from the Blackburn Rovers mailing list, to which I subscribe as a follower of the beautiful game and a fan of the team I have supported for the best part of fifty years. Usually, emails from the official Blackburn site give news of recent victories (would that that were always true) or details of players and their various injuries. It's all pretty predictable, harmless stuff.

Then, today, i got an email asking me to be a twelfth man for the England football team, which is preparing to do battle in the World Cup, in South Africa, in June. I'm familiar with the concept of the fan as the twelfth man. When the 100,000 rabid Aggies scream for the Texas A&M (American) football team at Kyle Field, their vociferous support encourages the players to knock that nasty team in burnt orange back to Austin, where they belong. It's all about making a lot of noise, especially when the opposing offense is on the field. In the same way, supporters can get behind their team in virtually any sport. After all, encouragement usually achieves more than the wagging finger of blame.

Back to the email: apparently, some bright spark in the English FA decided to ask suppporters to think positive thoughts about the team, on the theory that minds concentrated upon a single purpose are capable of making a difference. Here's part of the email:

We all want the boys to win in South Africa this summer, but most of us think we'll inevitably get knocked out at some point after the group stages. So if we really want to help them win (without strapping boots on ourselves) then we need to use the power of the 12th man.A Neuropsychologist has found that the power of the mind can actually influence results. Experiments show that this mental energy is strongest when unified under a single positive word. And if we all focus on this one word then doubt is less likely to creep in.That word is Cabanga (it means 'imagine' in Zulu if you're interested).We know with a greater number of believers, we can get more power and energy behind the word.With this in mind we're aiming to reach 90,000 fans (that's around the capacity of Wembley Stadium) on our facebook page, to help our boys win this summer.So show your support, be part of Cabanga and together we can help bring home the cup.

On the face of it, this is an extraordinary claim. By this theory, if 90,000 supporters think "goal" at the very moment that Wayne Rooney pulls back his leg to shoot, then they can influence the flight of the ball sufficiently to make it evade the despairing clutches of the opposition goalkeeper. The obvious question is, of course, what happens if 190,000 supporters of the opposing team are willing the ball to miss the goal? I'm not sure that this can be proven, either one way or the other. I still find it extraordinary that a thoroughly secular organisation, such as the FA, would countenance such a scheme.

My second thought is: What does this say about prayer? When the US and England teams meet in one of the opening games of the tournament, should I be praying that my team will win? (By the way, as an Englishman living in the US, that's a game I cannot lose). Will God listen to my prayers, and the prayers of those who are asking exactly the opposite, before deciding who will win? Or, should prayer be reserved for rather more important matters? I know that God is interested in the details of my life, but I don't think I can claim Him as partisan in sport. Unless, of course, He is a Blackburn supporter...

The Tender Indifference of the World

L'Etranger, Albert Camus' dark novel of self-discovery and despair, was simply a rather odd novel when I read it for the first time, thirty years ago. Today, re-reading it, I'm more able to discern Camus' underlying message, even if it still annoys me! Modernists often accuse Christians of intellectual arrogance, but they fail to recognize the grandiose certainties of Existentialism. Camus is relentless. He is determined to make his readers understand the fundamental absurdity of life. the vehicle for his anti-gospel is a self-absorbed youth by the name of Meursault.

As the story begins, we learn that Meursault's mother has just died. She had been living in an institution for the elderly. Meursault, her only living relative, had not paid her a great deal of attention. Indeed, her death and subsequent burial fail to move Meursault from his morose naval-gazing. It is as if the novel is taking place in his mind. One is never altogether sure of the existence of the sun-baked Algerian landscape in which Camus' characters live out their miserable lives. Meursault is unmoved by distractions like the death of his mother or a job offer in distant Paris. His refrain is, "Cela m'est egal" - "It's all the same.

Almost by accident, Meursault meets an old work-mate, Maria. His "grief" does not prevent him taking her to the beach, or to see a comic movie, or to bed. He also acquires a disreputable friend, Raymond, who leads Meursault into further adventures. Whilst planning a lazy afternoon at a beach-house, Raymond is confronted by three rather faceless Arabs. Violence lurks, then recedes, until Meursault decides to take matters into his own hands. After everything has calmed down, and the danger seems to have passed, Meursault takes Raymond's revolver and pursues the Arabs. When the sun glints off a knife held by one of the men, Meursault fires, repeatedly, and the man dies. Later, Meursault can only blame the sun for his actions.

Throughout the rest of the story, Camus grapples clumsily with the themes of oppression and state violence. Meursault refuses to accept the existence of a universal moral code. He is accused of being cold and indifferent to other people, but he refuses to conform. Proudly confident of the absurdity of this world, Meursault gives up his life with a shrug.

How sad! Meursault is a man entirely without hope, because his world revolves entirely around himself. There is no consolation to be found in the "tender indifference of the world" beyond a vague appreciation of beauty, and regret at not having longer to enjoy it. Meursault isn't even really narcissistic, he has just convinced himself of he inevitability of the meta-narrative of absurdity. It never seems to occur to him to ask, "If nothing makes sense, should that not also hold for my statement that nothing makes sense?" Like the post-modernity of which twentieth century Existentialism is but one symptom, Meursault's creed is self-contradictory. Camus attempts to use logic to prove the illogicality of the universe. He succeeds only in making his main character appear truly absurd.

L'Etranger has been an immensely influential novel. It is still required reading for many undergraduates. Are those who teach its story still entrenched in the intellectual revolution that was the 1960's? Do pony-tailed professors still dream of Left Bank cafes, and of a time when all of the old certainties were overthrown? If they do, I wonder whether their students can see through the posturing? Will it take a new generation to burst the bubble of Woodstock and the gospel according to Jean Paul? Or, must we look forward to another generation of outsiders, for whom the greatest good appears to be the necessity of revolt?

There is a person missing in Camus' story. Meursault needs a father to hold him accountable and to guide him to maturity. Adolescent angst is no basis for a philosophy for life. And if we are to recover a robust theology that moves beyond both self-adulation and self-loathing, then we must help the Prodigal Meursaults of this world to find a way back to their Father's arms.

Steeler Morality

So, Big Ben Roethlisberger is to serve a six game suspension for his loutish behavior in Georgia in May. Roger Goodell, the NFL commissioner, has come down on Ben like the proverbial ton of bricks, even though charges were never brought by the Georgian authorities. Apparently there was not enough to convict him of rape, even though it's pretty clear that he plied a young college student with drink then followed her into a bathroom. Perhaps he wanted to show her his etchings, or to discuss the niceties of social theory, or perhaps he was just being an arrogant jerk with too much money and no conscience.

I'm glad Ben got fined, even if it does mean that the Steelers are likely to have a less than stellar season this year. It's good that bad behavior has consequences. He could end up losing over $3million because of his little escapade. Presumably that is a drop in the bucket, but at least it should make him think again. Art Rooney and the Steelers organization are also to be commended for taking a hard line. No doubt there will be questions asked as to why they didn't trade Roethlisberger, given that they had just got rid of Santonio Holmes, but I imagine the answer is obvious. It has nothing to do with the color of his skin, but a great deal to do wih the strength of his arm. You don't build franchises around wide receivers, no matter how good. Ben has already brought two Super Bowls to Pittsburgh. He has the potential to bring even more revenue to his adopted city. But he will have to grow up. He does himself no credit with behavior that brings his team and his family into disrepute.

Having said all this, it does sound a little Victorian, doesn't it? The imposition of morality seems so out of place in our postmodern world. Especially since Ben was never officially charged, it makes Goodell look like a stern-faced headmaster, idly flicking the cane behind his back. It seems that Ben's punishment is due to the fact that he put somebody at risk. Would he have suffered if nobody had been in danger?

Recently, John Terry, the England Football player, was stripped of the captaincy of the national squad becuse he had an affair with the ex-girlfriend of a team mate. England's manager, the Italian Fabio Capello, won a great deal of respect in many quarters by taking decisive action. It's worth noting, though, that the action was not strictly speaking taken on moral grounds. Capello judged that Terry's behavior would have a detrimental effect upon team morale, should he be allowed to remain as captain. So, the fact that he betrayed a friend and broke a moral code is of secondary importance?

The problem is, of course, that everyone is afraid to talk about moral standards, except in as much as behavior endangers either health or success. Neither Goodell nor Capello dares to invoke a universal standard, such as the Ten Commandments. They are, nevertheless, making value judgments. It's worth asking "Upon what foundation are such judgments made?" Morality has to have a foundation, a rationale. You can't just keep condemning behavior on the basis of a moral code which society has ceased to embrace. Why should the exploitation of women be regarded as a societal evil? Is the prohibition something we have just decided upon, or is it the consequence of divine command?

Well done, Commissioner Goodell. I hope that you will apply the NFL's code of behavior with equaniminty. I hope, also, that one day someone will have the courage to condemn behaviors not because of any risk involved, but just because they are morally wrong.

A Resting Place for Sorrow

I've been re-reading Tess of the D"Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy, and have been much convicted by one particular episode. Hardy was no friend of the church; his works are known for their anti-Christian themes. But he hits a nerve in his representation of an encounter between young Tess and her parish priest.

Tess has been raped, and the child she subsequently bears marks her out as a fallen woman. She receives only condemnation from her father, and is ignored by the church which, previously, she had attended faithfully. Fearing, with good cause, for the life of her ailing son, Tess sends for the Vicar, but he is turned away by her father. In desperation she is forced to baptize her child herself (which, incidentally, is perfectly legal in Reformed circles, in extremis). This she does, mimicking the liturgy she had heard in worship. Hardy's treatment of the scene is touching and sympathetic. He does not really approve of the superstition, one feels, but he admires the simple devotion of a mother.

The child dies and Tess makes arrangements to meet the Vicar. She tells him what she has done, and asks for his approval. Eventually, he gives it, acknowledging no difference in the ordinance that she had given from any rite that he would have performed. Hardy is scathing in his depiction of a man who is trying to do his best. Noting Tess's dignity, and the tenderness of her voice, the cleric speaks to her out of nobler impulses "or rather, those that he had left in him after ten years of endeavour to graft technical belief on actual scepticism. The man and the ecclesiastic fought within him, and the victory fell to the man."

But then Tess moves on to another question. Will he allow the child to be buried in consecrated ground? The Parson begins to waver, concerned, presumably, that his parishoners will find out about the irregular baptism, and that word might get back to the Bishop. Though Tess presses him, he continues to make excuses. Finally, she exclaims "Don't for God's sake speak as saint to sinner, but as you yourself to me myself - poor me!" But he will not.

And so baby "Sorrow" is buried, clandestinely, in a corner of the churchyard reserved for the ungodly, at the cost of a shilling for the sexton. The Parson had struggled to reconcile ecclesiastical law, as he understood it, with the compassion he felt for a young girl and her dead child. But he chose to answer her as a saint might answer a sinner, and in this he failed.


There is a place for Law. We would be in a sorry state without it. But there is also a place for Love. Would that those of us who spend our days with our collars turned (figuratively, or not), might never forget.

Retreat to Victory

Mons: Retreat to Victory, by John Terraine, is an account of the retreat of the British Expeditionary Force (B.E.F.) and the French Armies following the invasion of Belgium in 1914. In sparse yet graphic language, Terraine chronicles attempts by the Germans to outflank the Allies, and to cut through all opposition in Northern France like a scythe. The bold endeavor almost succeeded. That it did not is due both to the timidity of German High Command, and to the bravery of the Allies. It was, however, a close run thing. Here are a couple of impressions from my reading.

First, wars are not won on paper. Von Schlieffen, the German commander at the turn of the century, laid the groundwork for the maneuver which could have destroyed France and its Allies within a few weeks. Pivoting on Alsace-Lorraine, the whole force of the German war machine could have swept all before it - if its forces had been deployed according to Von Schlieffen's plan. Instead, Von Moltke, Von Bulow and other leaders reinforced the line where it needed to bend, and weakened it where it needed superior strength. The plan failed because they failed.

The British and French also failed because of their inability to read the tide of battle. Intelligence reports were either ignored or forced to fit within some preconceived idea. Estimates of opposing strength were far too low, despite evidence of troop movements gathered by those who flew the new-fangled flying machines. The British, under Sir John French, seemed to have difficulty in adapting to changing circumstances. The French forces, under Joffre, were simply blind to danger. For forty years they had planned their revenge upon the Germans. They had dreamed of forcibly removing the teutonic oppressor from occupied lands in what had once been North East France. The spirit of Napoleon I was alive and well in the French army. Its generals vowed to attack at every opportunity and not to yield an inch of sacred earth. Too frequently, that earth became a grave as patriotic young Frenchmen still dressed in the red kepis and long blue capotes of the Second Empire, hurled themselves against forces they could not hope to break. The plans of grey-haired generals, far from the front-line, were far removed from the realities of conflict .

Second, in war, very few people have any idea what they are doing. Those who have at least some idea are at a huge advantage. The detailed accounts of the withdrawal of the B.E.F. demonstrate a remarkable degree of forethought, most often exercised by supply officers down the line, not by those caught up in the action. An army in retreat still needs to be fed. It requires ammunition and supplies. The wounded must still be evacuated. Lines of communication must be established and renewed whenever necessary. But when it comes down to it, especially when moving through a heavily-industrialized area, the movement of so many men is littered with misunderstandings and mistakes. If the retreat is not uniform, units can become isolated and enveloped, as happened to members of the Cheshire Regiment. Despite the skills of impressive and experienced commanders such as General Smith-Dorrien, whose reputation was largely made during the retreat from Mons, it must be admitted that the success of the operation was due, in no small measure, to the failure of the Germans to press home their advantage. Some German troops said later that they had expected the British to mount a counter-attack, so badly mauled had the Germans been in their attempts to advance. They did not realize their numerical superiority, nor the large gaps that sometimes appeared between Allied Corps. The history of war may be told on maps in bright colors, but it is written in fog, in shades of grey.

If there is something to be learned, apart from the folly of war, it is that persistence and imagination often have their reward. When, in the end, the German armies pushed too far and exposed their flank, it was those who had seen strategic retreat as a means to victory who were ready to pounce. The small-minded, vainglorious fools who had refused to listen understood how to lead men to their defeat, but not much more. It was those nearing retirement, Petain and Foch, who became the leaders of revitalized France. While the young could only impale themselves on steel, experience taught older heads to feint, to parry, and then to strike.

Life is not war, though it sometimes feels like it. But it seems that there is, after all, something to be said for the wisdom that comes from experience, as long as it is still open to innovation and risk. The other lesson, if you are looking for one, is that patience is often the best policy, as long as it does not become an excuse for indecision. Knowing when to strike and when to hold back can often be the difference between victory and defeat.

Easter Day, April 4, 2010

I Know That My Redeemer Lives

I know that my Redeemer lives, and that in the end He will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been destroyed, yet in my flesh I will see God.
Job 19:25, 26

But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep.
I Corinthians 15:20

In the most unexpected of places, God cultivates hope. Surely, we would never have looked for the promise of new life in the chronicle of Job. He lost everything – his fortune and his home, his family and his health. All that Job had left was an assortment of odd friends who offered him bad advice. There was no word of hope for this, most afflicted of prophets. He would have been better off dying, at least then his misery would have ended. And yet, hidden within its sorrowful pages, the book of Job brings light to the darkness. “I know,” he seems to sing, defiantly, “that my Redeemer lives, and that in the end He will stand upon the earth.” Though he did not fully understand his prophetic words, Job looked forward to an empty tomb, and to the resurrection of the Son of God.

On the third day,[1] the first day of the week, women came to the tomb to anoint Jesus’ body, a task they could not have performed on the Jewish Sabbath. But, when they arrived, they found that the stone that had sealed the tomb had been rolled away. Angels, in white, greeted them, but the women scarcely knew what to believe. Later,[2] Peter and John came running to see what had happened. John ran on ahead, and then hesitated. Peter ran past him into the open tomb and found the graveclothes, folded but empty. Hope lifted up its head.

Mary Magdalene,[3] still in shock, wept at the loss of her Lord. Once again, angels comforted her; but it was only when she turned to speak to a man she took to be a gardener that the reality of what had happened came to her. “Mary,” He said. And Mary realized that this was no gardener, it was the Lord. By His rising, hope – once hidden- flooded her world with light. Sorrow was banished. Death was overcome by joy unspeakable.

Every claim Christ ever made was proven on that day. Every command He ever issued was underlined. Every promise was written bold. For Christ was risen, the firstfruits of those who have fallen into the sleep of death. Today, we repeat the refrain with joy: Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Risen Lord,
I greet You with joy,
for You have overcome the power of death and drawn its sting.
Death’s shackles could not hold You. You’re alive!
And so, I live in hope: after my flesh has been destroyed I shall see You.
With my own eyes I shall see You.
Alleluia and Amen.

[1] Matthew 28:1
[2] John 20:3f
[3] John 20:10

Saturday, April 3, 2010

Laughed to Scorn

All who see me mock me; they hurl insults, shaking their heads.
Psalm 22:7

On the cross, Jesus quoted from Psalm 22:1, “My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?” Some of those who heard His words must have thought that Jesus was falling into dark despair. God was not coming to rescue Him. A squadron of angels was not about to blast His oppressors into oblivion, nor transport Him to glory. Jesus’ end was agonizingly human. He died in excruciating pain, as victims of man’s inhumanity have often died, throughout the centuries. Doubtless some were happy to see Jesus in this state – pathetic, worthy only of our pity.

Others, seeing Jesus, felt no pity, only scorn. Verse seven of Psalm 22 means, literally, “they shoot out the lip,” that is, they sneer at the passing of the Holy One. Certainly, there were those who were relieved to see Him die. Jesus had posed a threat to the religious establishment. With His death, things could get back to normal. Jesus had believed Himself to be someone special, but His death proved otherwise, or so they thought.

In the cool darkness of the tomb Jesus slept the sleep of death. But it was not a sleep from which He would never awake. While the devil and his cohorts laughed at Christ’s passing, the seed of life was getting ready to burst forth. Deep, within the earth, new life was rising. It was to be the rebirth of hope.

There are those who still heap ridicule upon Christ today. They say that His acquiescence to the will of God makes Him less than a man. They rail against “the pale Galilean” as the one who drains the color out of life. They mock Him as a dreamer who accomplished nothing. In their eyes, Jesus is still dead. His bones lie hidden in a Palestinian ossuary, which is exactly where His ideas should be left – dead and buried, consigned to the scrapheap of history. The laughter of these God-haters still rolls around the world, and the joke is always at the expense of the Man of Sorrows.

But, He who laughs last laughs loudest. Death crows its victory; but life lies in waiting, ready for the coming of the dawn.

Silent God,
The foolish ignore You.
The malicious abuse You.
Have I been among their number?
Have I been too busy to watch and pray?
Have I taken a seat among the mockers?
Forgive me, Lord.
I, too, will be silent.
And I will wait.
Amen.

Friday, April 2, 2010

Laid On Him

We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.
Isaiah 53:6

This is the darkest of days. It is God’s Friday – Good Friday. There is not much good about it, or so it would seem. Certainly there was little goodness to be found in the events of this terrible day. If we can find good in Good Friday, then it is in the consequences of the day, for on that day the Lord laid on Him the iniquity of us all.

A trial was held overnight, illegally. False witnesses were brought.[1]It was alleged that Jesus had said that He could rebuild the temple in three days. Everyone knew this to be humanly speaking impossible, but few suspected that Jesus was referring to the temple of His body. The High Priest soon got to the point. “Tell us,” he asked, “if you are the Christ, the Son of God.” they already knew the answer, and the charge was prepared. “Blasphemy” they bellowed on hearing Jesus’ answer, not stopping to wonder whether what He said was true.[2] In that moment the sentence was sealed.

The disciples were thrown into disarray. Peter stayed close but, in order to protect himself, when he was challenged he denied knowing Jesus of Nazareth. Judas realized, too late, what he had done and, in his remorse, took his own life. Pilate interfered, not understanding why this harmless preacher should be thought worthy of crucifixion, but he soon bowed before the pressure of the crowd. An escape route was offered, and then swiftly closed as the crowd shouted for a notorious felon, Barabbas, and thus condemned Jesus to death.[3] Were there those, in their midst, crying, “Crucify Him!” who just days before had laid palm leaves in tribute at His feet?

The soldiers took Jesus and placed a scarlet robe upon Him, and twisted a crown of thorns and placed it upon His head.[4] They spat upon Him and struck Him, then stripped the robe from Him and led Him away to die. A stranger carried His cross to Golgotha, the place of the skull; nails tore His flesh; they crucified Him. A sign above His head mocked Him: “This is Jesus, King of the Jews.”[5] One of the thieves, crucified beside Him, also taunted Him, but another defended Him. One man, watching, offered Him wine vinegar soaked in a sponge. Others simply watched. It did not take long. Jesus cried aloud. He quoted Scripture. Then, He cried again, gave up His spirit, and it was done.[6]

Words fail me, Lord.
I cannot look upon Your cross and do anything but weep –
for the cruelty that put You there,
for the love that kept You there.
I shall weep for You in silence,
until the morning comes.
Amen.

[1] Matthew 26:57f
[2] Matthew 26:65-66
[3] Matthew 27:15-22
[4] Matthew 27:27f
[5] Matthew 27:37
[6] Matthew 27:50

April 1, 2010

By His Stripes

…and by his wounds (stripes) we are healed.
Isaiah 53:5b

In an upper room, Jesus gathered His disciples together to celebrate the Passover. Together, they would recall God’s great deliverance and look forward to the day when His people would, once more, be free. But Jesus also knew that His time was rapidly running out, and that He did not have long before He, too, would be offered as a sacrifice for sin.

In their haste, they had forgotten the formalities. No one had arranged for a servant to wash their feet.[1] No one stepped forward to perform the task. So, Jesus did it. To Peter’s horror, Jesus took a bowl and a towel and washed His disciples’ feet, and then He charged them, that they should do the same. One disciple, Judas Iscariot, saw this solemn act of service and decided that he had had enough. Judas was not interested in Jesus’ spiritual kingdom. He longed for the restoration of Israel. It was a political uprising he wanted, not a religious revival. So, Judas slipped away quietly and took his thirty pieces of silver.[2] It’s not a lot of money to betray a Savior. Jesus continued into the night, sharing with His disciples the core truths and values that He had tried to instill in them throughout His ministry. Some still did not understand. It was only after the event, looking back, that they grasped His meaning. Peter would, later, put it in graphic terms. The disciple who betrayed His Lord three times before the cock crowed, looked back upon the events of that first Holy Week and wrote: “He Himself bore our sins in His body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness.”[3] Then, using a phrase taken directly from Isaiah’s suffering servant songs, Peter concluded, “and by His wounds you have been healed.”

Back in Jerusalem, the meal was concluded. The broken bread would remind Christ’s followers of His broken body; the poured out wine would remind them of His blood.[4] Then, in Gethsemane, Jesus prayed, and Judas identified Him with a kiss, and the hinge of history creaked open.

Lord Jesus,
Had I been there, would I have understood?
It seems so obvious now, so necessary yet so tragic. But then?
Would I have hidden from the truth? Would I have denied you, like Peter?
Would I have sold You out, like Judas?
Would I have watched and prayed, like Mary at the foot of Your cross?
Amen.

[1] John 13:1-17
[2] John 13:30
[3] I Peter 2:24
[4] Matthew 26:26-29

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

He Has Borne Our Griefs

Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by Him, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him
Isaiah 53:4,5a

Those who watched Jesus die thought that God was punishing Him for His sins. In a sense, He was, since Jesus “took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows.” But in reality He suffered for our transgressions; our sins were laid upon Him. The nails and the spear that pierced Him, and the thorns that dug into His brow were not punishment for His sins, for He had none.[1] The sins were ours, and so was the punishment. It was our iniquity that crushed His heaving chest. It was the weight of our offenses that oppressed Him. As we see Him suffering, it is hard to think that we put Christ there.[2] The peace which we now enjoy, the spiritual peace which is the result of our reconciliation with God, is ours only because of the punishment that He endured.

This is not always easy for us to grasp. We sometimes think that God, being God, has only to wave a hand and we are forgiven. We fail to understand why an innocent man had to suffer on behalf of the guilty. Even if we acknowledge our guilt and admit that we have broken God’s Law, we are still not sure why an almighty, sovereign God had to stoop to such barbarity in order to obtain our salvation. It makes us think of God as an unnecessarily stern task master, demanding His pound of flesh. The truth is that, in Scripture, there is often a connection between atonement and blood. Abraham knew it as he raised the knife above Isaac.[3] He had to be willing to give up what was most precious to him. Then, a ram was caught in a thicket, and the blood-sacrifice was made. The Israelites knew about the connection between sin and blood. Throughout their long history they knew the value of an offering. Atonement came through the shedding of blood.

Why? Perhaps the best answer is to remember the holiness and justice of God.[4] Sin is so serious, its separation so total, that it threatens the fabric of the universe. Holiness cannot wink at sin and, in a just universe, wrongdoing cannot go unpunished. So, a system of sacrifice developed that was intended to mend the relationship between sinful Israel and their holy God. In the end, it did not work. Our rebellion was so complete that the blood of a thousand lambs could not redeem us.[5] That is why God sent the perfect sacrifice. He sent His Son.

Holy, holy, holy God, You are pure and holy, and I am not.
The light of Your presence sears my sin
and convicts me of my unrighteousness.
I trust in Your mercy alone, and in the sacrifice of Your Son.
To whom be praise forever.
Amen.

[1] Hebrews 7:26
[2] II Corinthians 5:21
[3] Genesis 22:9
[4] Galatians 1:3
[5] Hebrews 4:15

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

He was Despised

He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
Isaiah 53:3

One might have thought that the coming of the Lamb of God would lead to rejoicing. It did. Angels sang at His birth.[1] The heavens rejoiced at the coming of the Son of Man. When old Simeon saw the child he took Him in his arms and praised God.[2] Anna, the prophetess, gave thanks to God when she saw the infant Jesus and “spoke about the child to all who were looking forward to the redemption of Jerusalem.”[3] But, there were others who were threatened by His coming. Instead of bowing down in worship before Him, they laid back their heads to laugh at Him. He was not among the cultured elite. He had not been born into privilege or power. There were questions regarding His birth. His father was only a carpenter. And He came from Nazareth. Everyone knew that nothing good came out of Nazareth.[4]

So they mocked Him. The soldiers laughed at Jesus as they dressed Him in a scarlet robe and placed a staff of office in His hand.[5] They called Him “King of the Jews” and bullied Him like spoiled children in a sand pit. As they had their fun, heaven glowered, but did nothing but wait. Even on the cross, a fellow-sufferer sought to relieve his own pain by taunting Jesus.[6] Passers-by shouted at Him, “So! You who would destroy the temple and build it in three days, come down from the cross and save yourself.”[7] Even the chief priests and the teachers of the Law couldn’t contain their mirth. “He saved others,” they said, “but He can’t save Himself! Let this Christ, this King of Israel, come down now from the cross, that we may see and believe.”[8]

When He came, Christ, the Lamb of God, was despised and rejected. He was despised and rejected by those who were ignorant of His purpose, and of God’s claim upon their lives. He was despised and rejected by those who were threatened by the enormity of His love, and by the implications of His coming. He was despised and rejected by those who believed that they had no need of a savior. How easy it would have been for Jesus to have responded to their scorn with anger of His own, to have thrown up His hands in frustration and to have said, “Enough! You will get what you deserve!” But, He did not. Instead, He lifted high His hands upon the cross and took what He did not deserve, for us.

Suffering Lord,
A superficial, cynical world mocks You still.
Your passion is still a source of schoolyard humor and crass contempt.
The godless mock You.
They despise Your salvation.
And by their laughter they crucify You again.
My heart grieves for You, and for Your suffering.
Amen.

[1] Luke 2:14
[2] Luke 2:29
[3] Luke 2:38
[4] John 1:46
[5] Matthew 27:27
[6] Luke 23:39
[7] Mark 15:29
[8] Mark 15:31

Monday, March 29, 2010

Behold the Lamb

The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and said, “Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!”
John 1:29

Years before, at the beginning of His ministry, John the Baptist had given a startling insight into the nature of Jesus’ work. Pointing to the One whose sandals, he said, he was not fir to untie, John declared Jesus to be “the Lamb of God.” From the very beginning, therefore, the motif of sacrifice had been woven into the story.

Sacrifice was a very familiar idea to the Jews. A lamb was used as a sacrifice during Passover[1] to remind faithful Jews of God’s deliverance of His people from the oppression of Pharaoh. When the blood of the lamb was sprinkled on the doorposts of the Israelites, the angel of death “passed-over” and they were saved. In the suffering servant prophecies of Isaiah, God’s chosen servant was to be “Led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth.”[2] At the time of Jesus, sacrifices were carried out, daily, in the temple in Jerusalem, in fulfillment of the Law.[3] The blood of an innocent animal was shed to atone for the sins of the people. Figuratively, their sins were “laid upon” the lamb. It bore their sin. Its death paid for their guilt. So, when John the Baptist described Jesus as “the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world,” the imagery was startlingly obvious. Here was a man whose life would be offered on behalf of sinful humanity. For all those who would receive Him, that sacrifice would be sufficient to overcome the condemnation caused by their sin, and to grant them peace with God.[4]

For us, the imagery is less immediate but no less telling. We no longer sacrifice spotless lambs on a stone altar, but we do try to fool ourselves into thinking that our actions can win acceptance with God. Holy Week reminds us that not one of us can do this. We cannot overcome the oppression of sin without the grace and mercy of God. And what we could not do, He took it upon Himself to do. The King who rode a donkey into Jerusalem was heading for a crown made, not of gold, but of thorns.







Lamb of God,
You take away the sin of the world.
Have mercy on me.
You take away the sin of the world.
Have mercy on me.
You take away the sin of the world.
Grant me Your peace.
Amen.


[1] Exodus 12:1-36
[2] Isaiah 53:7
[3] Exodus 29:38-42
[4] II Corinthians 5:19

Sunday, March 28, 2010

Rejoice Greatly

“Say to the Daughter of Zion, ‘See, your king comes to you, gentle and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’”
Zechariah 9:9-10/Matthew 21:5

Who is this Man, whose words reverberate down the years? Is He merely a man, a product of His time, whose words must be read through the medium of modernity? May we choose what we like from His message and ignore the rest? Or, by our choice do we reveal too much about ourselves?

It was Sunday. Jesus knew that His earthly ministry was drawing to a close. With His disciples, Jesus had travelled down from Galilee, from the old, familiar places of His childhood, into the cauldron that was Jerusalem. It was the Jewish Passover; hundreds of thousands of Jews had gathered from across the Roman Empire and beyond in order to be present at one of the highlights of the religious year. There, on Zion’s hill, they would remember the blood of the Passover lamb, sprinkled on the doorposts of the faithful, and the protection the blood offered against the coming of the angel of death.[1] It was a story every Jewish child could tell, a story of oppression, and deliverance, and freedom.

Having spent time in Bethany with Mary and Martha, and having demonstrated His power in the raising of Lazarus, Jesus came into Jerusalem. His reputation preceded Him. Crowds gathered. Young men stripped branches from palm trees and laid the fronds before His donkey’s feet.[2] Others took the cloaks from their backs and placed them before its careful hooves.[3] Seeing it, many must have been reminded of Zechariah’s prophesy, and seen in Jesus the coming of the long-awaited Messiah. “Hosanna,” they cried, “Save us now!”[4]

And yet… did they really understand? Even the disciples were caught up in the excitement of the day. How many people, seeing Jesus, imagined Him to be a political leader, come to unite the people and to drive the hated Romans out of Palestine? On the other hand, were there many who saw, in Him, Isaiah’s suffering servant, entering the time of His final sacrifice? Did they know that the conquering hero was riding to His death?

Lord Jesus,
You come in humility, riding on a donkey.
You show me, yet again, that the treasures of this world:
power and possessions and prestige, are only temporary.
But Your gift is eternal.
Yours is a Kingdom that will know no end.
I rejoice in Your coming,
yet weep for Your parting.
Amen.

[1] Exodus 12
[2] Mark 11
[3] II Kings 9:13
[4] Psalm 118:25

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Amazement and Authority

When Jesus had finished saying these things, the crowd were amazed at His teaching, because He taught as one who had authority, and not as their teachers of the law.
Matthew 7:28-29

We are told that those who heard Jesus speak responded with amazement.[1] The Sermon on the Mount filled them with wonder – this rural rabbi had an authority all His own.[2] He did not need to depend upon quotations from others in order to make His case. His words were compelling.

The question of authority was an important one for the scribes and Pharisees. At first, they were unsure where Jesus obtained the authority to speak as He did.[3] Later, as He began to question some of their practices, and especially when Jesus seemed to be undermining the Law, they did not hesitate to suggest that Jesus was acting under the influence of evil.[4] In all of this, they feared that their authority was being challenged, and that their position within society was being diminished. They could not see that Jesus’ authority came directly from His Father.[5]

Notice what the text does not say. Matthew does not tell us that Jesus’ listeners were moved to worship, or to obedience. His only comment is that they were amazed. Surely, this is not enough. If it was hardness of heart that drove Jesus to the cross, perhaps it began here. First, the scribes and Pharisees were jealous of Jesus’ authority, and worried about their own. Second, the people were more interested in Jesus as a worker of wonders, not as a Savior. Amazement is not adoration. They were intrigued, for the moment, by the man who did miracles, and by the teacher who stood up against the religious authorities. But their amazement did not lead them to faith. An interest in this remarkable man is not the same as turning to Christ in faith. We may be fascinated by His story without bending our wills before His sovereignty. But Jesus Christ is more than a miracle worker; He is the Savior. In answer to the One whose demands upon your life are absolute, the only acceptable response is the glad surrender of faith. May that response be yours.

My Lord and my God,
While the world looks for wonders,
while the curious seek signs,
I will look, in faith, upon the Christ who gave His all for me.
What response can I give, Lord, save the offering of myself?
All that I have, all that I am, I give for You alone.
Amen.

[1] Luke 4:32
[2] Matthew 28:18
[3] Mark 2:16
[4] Matthew 12:24
[5] John 12:49

Friday, March 26, 2010

Firm Foundation

“Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.”
Matthew 7:24-27

It is one thing to hear God’s Word; it is quite another to put it into practice and to respond in faithful obedience. Some people hear God’s Word, but because they do not build upon a firm foundation their discipleship is easily disrupted and they fall.

Jesus uses, as an illustration, the story of two houses – one built upon the rock and the other upon the sand. Outwardly, they appear to be similar, but only one is really secure. The house built upon the sand rests upon a dry river bed. When the rains come and the waters rise it quickly succumbs. The house on the rock remains standing,[1] but the house on the sand is destroyed. In this illustration, Jesus presents us with one, final choice. Will we build our lives upon the firm foundation of obedience to God’s will, as revealed in Christ, or will we seek some other basis? Hearing the Word is not enough; we must also respond.

It can be very difficult to distinguish between those who have built on the bedrock of Christ, and those who have not. Both may exhibit the same characteristics – a commitment to worship and prayer, an interest in authentic discipleship, and a heart for mission – but for some people the interest does not go deep enough. It may be a momentary thing, an interest that does not last. It may melt away as one’s life circumstances change. The problem for such people is that when the storms of life come, as they undoubtedly will, faith fails them. They think that they have a living relationship with God through His Son, but in reality they do not. They have the appearance of a form of godliness but not the power.[2] They do not have a firm foundation. And as the rain falls, their house is swept away.

How much better, says Jesus, to choose to build on the rock that will not move. How much more satisfying, for now and for eternity, to know that you stand secure in Him, and that come hell or high water you will not be moved. A secure faith requires that we should have more than a passing interest in Jesus. We should not only hear the Word of God, we should be prepared to act upon it. Have you? What is the foundation of your life?

Lord Jesus,
I have heard Your claim upon my life.
I know what it means to believe and to belong,
but unless I give my whole heart to You,
unless I live out my faith in obedience to Your will,
then I may have knowledge in my head, but You are not in my heart.
Here and now, Lord, in response to Your Word, I give You my own –
that until I draw my final breath,
I shall be Yours.
Amen.

[1] Luke 6:48
[2] II Timothy 3:5

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Naming Jesus Lord

“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the Kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in Your name, and in Your name drive out demons and perform many miracles?’ Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!”
Matthew 7:21-23

Signs and wonders are no substitute for a submissive spirit. Some of those who lead the flock astray have become so enamored of God’s gifts that they have forgotten God’s grace. They may, in the name of Jesus, be able to perform spectacular signs. They may have the gift of prophesy, or power over evil spirits; they may be able to perform what some call miracles. But, when they come before the father’s throne on judgment day, they will not be able to enter the Kingdom of heaven. They may cry aloud, “Lord, Lord!” but if they have not done the will of their heavenly Father, He will not know them. He will turn them away.[1]

It is by faith that we are saved; and faith is known by the fruit of obedience which leads to a sanctified life. Yet, these people substitute gifts for grace. They want the spectacular fruit, but they ignore the soil in which the fruit is to grow. Whether or not they realize it, they end up stoking their own egos instead of giving credit where it is due. Their ministry is all about what they have done. Their accomplishments are heralded in the press and proclaimed from the pulpit. They grow fond of adulation. Foolishly, they allow themselves to bask in praise that is not theirs. But, in the end, they have received their reward. They expect to be made welcome in heaven. Trumpets and angels will welcome them and a grateful God will embrace them, or so they believe. They can almost hear the applause, “Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into your rest.”[2] But the reality will be very different. Instead of a hero’s welcome, they will find themselves turned away.

What do we learn? We learn that we can be outwardly religious – regular in worship, generous in giving – but if we think that our faith is all about us, then we are mistaken. Our faith is, first and foremost, about who we are as children of the living God, redeemed by grace; it is only, secondly, about what we do. Those who follow Jesus must be careful not to steal His glory. No one deserves our adoration, save Him.





Lord God,
When I am blinded by the bright lights,
lead me to the cross.
When I am attracted by the spectacular and ignore the Savior,
take me to Calvary.
There, in awe and wonder, may I kneel before love made flesh.
May I rise to bow before no other king, save Jesus Christ my Lord.
Amen.

[1] II Timothy 2:19
[2] Matthew 25:23

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Truth and Falsehood

“Watch out for false prophets. They come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves. By their fruit you will recognize them. Do people pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? Likewise every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, and a bad tree cannot bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. Thus, by their fruit you will recognize them.”
Matthew 7:15-20

There are, according to Jesus, two types of prophets. You must choose which type you will listen to. There are the prophets who proclaim the unadorned truth about the Kingdom of God, and there are the prophets who do not.

False prophets were nothing new in Israel. Jeremiah denounced those who simply said whatever the people wanted to hear.[1] Instead of bringing a word from the Lord, they just spoke what was in their heads! They gave the people false assurance, speaking of peace where none was to be found,[2] announcing prosperity and security when God had promised no such things. The word “false” is “pseudo” in the Greek, which means “lie.” False prophets lie. There is an objective standard of truth which they choose to pervert. False prophets can do a great deal of damage, often leading astray many of the faithful. Their methods are thoroughly deceptive.

False prophets are wolves in sheep’s clothing. Outwardly, they appear to be harmless, often using the language of orthodoxy but twisting the meaning of words to their own ends. Once they have won the confidence of the flock they reveal their true nature and wreak havoc.[3] False prophets are notorious for accommodating enemies of the truth, flirting with foreign religious practices, and giving the impression that the narrow way is not so narrow after all. Alternatively, they may suggest that the broad way does not lead to destruction, but that all roads lead to God.

Jesus does not pull any punches in dealing with falsehood. Those who perpetuate lies lead the people to put their trust in something other than the Gospel. They are, therefore, to be resisted. God’s people must use the bar of Scripture and the discernment of the Holy Spirit to judge between competing truth claims. But in the end, there is only one truth and that is God’s. Truth and falsehood exclude one another. Be careful which you choose.

Lord God,
Lead me into all truth.
May I always reject all other alternatives and cling to Your Word.
Humbly, yet with confidence in Your guidance and Your goodness,
help me to stand upon Your promises.
May the truth that I have found in Jesus set me free.
Amen.

[1] Jeremiah 23:16f
[2] Jeremiah 8:11
[3] John 10:11-13

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Two Ways

“Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.”
Matthew 7:13-14

Moving towards the conclusion of His sermon, Jesus lays a series of stark choices before His listeners. They have heard Him explain the way of the Lord, how the Law has to be written on their hearts, and how their obedience has to be a conscious act of will, a decision to put God first. But they have also heard about another way, in which self comes before the Savior, and where the Kingdom is mocked by crowing cant or vainglorious hypocrisy. Given these two alternatives, Christ’s listeners must decide.

The first choice is between a small gate and a narrow way that leads to life, and a wide gate and a broad way that leads to destruction. Jesus makes it clear that the two ways do not lead to the same destination. The narrow way, which few choose, is marked by the values of the Kingdom. Those who walk in it are not consumed by the passions and temptations of the earth, though they feel them; instead, they are serious about accepting God’s authority in every part of their life.[1] They know what it means to be able to call God “Father,” and they live in obedience as His children.[2] They do not have an inflated opinion of themselves; they know that they are sinners saved by grace. But they do have a large vision of the God who has called them and made them His own.

On the other hand, the broad way is chosen by many. Some deliberately reject the Gospel, choosing to trust in some other way, or simply in themselves. Many others follow the wider path simply because so many have gone that way. They never take the trouble to examine the claims of Christ; they prefer to remain in an ignorant state that demands little of them, not realizing that this is the way that leads to destruction.

This is a choice that many people, even some Christians, prefer not to have to acknowledge. We tell ourselves that we must not judge, or that God loves everyone so much that He would not let anyone fall. But Jesus tells us otherwise.[3]

God of the narrow way,
Do not let me be narrow in my care for others.
Do not let me be judgmental or aloof.
Instead, let my love be expansive and welcoming,
just like Yours.
Yet, do not let me ignore the cutting edge of Your Word,
or the challenge to decide.
Then, let me choose the narrow way.
Amen.

[1] John 15:18
[2] Matthew 19:16-28
[3] Acts 4:12

Monday, March 22, 2010

From a Father’s Hand

“Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask Him! So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.”
Matthew 7:9-12

Though God may not always give us exactly what we want when we pray, is it still possible that He will give us what we neither want nor need? Some people believe in a deity that is so fickle, so mischievous and malevolent that he delights to give us the opposite of what we ask for. Such a god might give us an unnourishing stone when we ask for bread, or a dangerous snake when we ask for fish. Before we reject such notions as fanciful, we should know that the Greek pantheon contained many gods whose behavior was often adolescent or downright vindictive. But the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ is not like that. He loves us, far more than any human parent ever could, and He longs to give us the gifts that He has prepared for us.

Notice that Jesus assumes that human beings are depraved. He says that we are evil, that is, that we have a tendency, in this fallen world, to choose that which is not of God. And yet, even human parents, who share this tendency, want to give good gifts to their children. Very few parents would give hungry children stones, or endanger them with snakes. Neither would God. We can rest assured, when we approach Him with our burdens and the needs that concern us so much, that God’s response will be that of a Father who loves us.

Verse twelve summarizes Jesus’ teaching. We know it as the “Golden Rule.” If we want to be treated fairly and with compassion by others, and especially by God, then we should treat others in the same way. It is interesting that Jesus should express this Rule in a positive way. Before, it had always been a negative: “Do not do to others what you do not wish them to do to you.” But Jesus turns a prohibition into a manifesto. Share God’s bounty and grace with all – just as you have received God’s bounty and grace in your life.

Lord,
Some people find it hard to think of You as ‘Father.”
Their memories are too painful.
They have no model by which they may understand.
Nevertheless, I am glad to be able to call You “Father,”
not because You mirror fatherhood,
but because every good father mirrors You.
Amen.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Ask, Seek, Knock

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened.”
Matthew 7:7-8

Jesus turns from the problems of judging others to a consideration of what we need in order to be able to judge at all – an intimate relationship with the One whom we have the privilege to call “Father.” Jesus has taught us about the importance of prayer.[1] Now He hammers home the urgency. If we are to have any understanding of the nature of mercy, if we are to judge with anything approaching the compassion of Christ, then we must have a mature relationship with God.

It has been pointed out that there is a certain progression in the imperatives in verse seven. We may “ask” as a child who wishes some favor from his mother; we may “seek” her out in order to press our case; we may “knock” at her door in order to gain entry to her inner chamber. Whether or not this is the case, there is certainly urgency in Jesus’ words. He does not want us to remain ignorant and unanswered. We should not have to struggle on alone, judging only on the basis of our limited experience, relying on our wits. If only we will ask, the full resources of God will become available to us. We will discern more effectively because the Holy Spirit will dwell within us. We will have, available to us, wisdom and knowledge from on high. We will, at the same time, be more discerning and more compassionate, because we are more attuned to the grace that has saved us.

The promise contained within these words is all-encompassing, even though we should know that God often gives us what we need, not necessarily what we think we need. This means that God is not going to ignore us. He is not going to deceive us by giving us a stone when we ask for bread. We may ask in confidence, knowing that He hears us, and that He loves us. Our God is always ready to respond.

Father God,
I know that I have not always asked in line with Your will.
I have been self-centered in prayer, as in so many other aspects of my life.
I have treated You like an indulgent uncle, instead of as my heavenly Father.
Yet, even in my foolishness, I seek You.
As I seek You, so may I find You.
Amen.

[1] Matthew 6:5f