More on Holy Communion

The Eucharist reminds us forcibly of God’s great love for people (John 3:16, 1 John 3:1) It helps us to see people (including ourselves) ‘not through the dirty lens of our own muddled feelings and not through the smudgy window of another’s carping criticism, but in terms of God’s word.’ (Eugene Peterson, ‘Five Smooth Stones For Pastoral Work’, P 64-65) Our sense of inadequacy and lack of self-worth are corrected as we reflect again on the fact that God loved the world enough to send His Son to die for us. Our sense of arrogance and self-sufficiency are challenged by the reminder that we are unable to save ourselves and need God’s active particiipation to be saved.

 

Participating in Holy Communion reminds us of the historical reality of our faith and points us to the power of God, for the cross is now empty. The resurrection means God’s daily presence is with us to help and to guide. We have hope, no matter how grim our daily reality may be. Moreover, Holy Communion instils in us a strong sense of expectation, for we do this only ‘until He comes.’ (1 Cor 11:26) We have hope that looks beyond this present darkness and beyond our mortality. This weekly act of remembrance becomes a pointer to the future and a reminder that God’s story is not over yet. Jesus is coming back; God is sovereign over all history.

The Death of Saul

1 Samuel 31 and 2 Samuel 1 both describe the death of Saul and his sons in the battle with the Philistines. The author of the book has been showing us parallel action for some time, switching between Saul and his increasing fear and sense of doom, and David. We last saw Saul with the medium at Endor, listening to Samuel’s stark declaration that defeat was staring Saul in the face; in the meantime, the narrative has switched to David’s rejection by the Philistine commanders, the Amalekite raid of Ziklag and David’s successful recovery of all he lost there by God’s help. Now, we are back in the thick of battle: a battle which sees not only Saul die, but Jonathan too and most of Saul’s other sons.

The two chapters give slightly differing accounts of Saul’s death, but the fact remains that he is no more successful in suicide than he was in killing David or his own son through his spear-throwing antics. We are reminded forcibly that life – and death – should be left in the hands of God. So-called ‘mercy killings’ (‘assisted suicide’) are very much in the news at present, but these chapters remind us that only God has the right to take life. The Amalekite who does finally kill Saul finds himself killed by David, who firmly believed that no one had the right to take the life of the Lord’s anointed. It’s surprising to find the sanctity of life so clearly taught in the midst of war (though perhaps it is there that we learn to appreciate life all the more keenly.)

We might wonder if David will feel relief at the death of Saul; after all, he has been on the run, living as a fugitive (and pretending to be a madman at times) for years now. He has been exiled from Israel, unable to see his family; he has been forced to be bodyguard for a Philistine for a time in order to survive! But David shows no joy or relief at the death of his king. Instead, he grieves for both Saul and Jonathan and for his country. He is a far cry from the scheming politician or manipulative leader we are so used to seeing. Instead, we see someone who can genuinely mourn the loss of even his enemy, and as such, we see one who is now ready to be king himself.

 

Faithfully living a hidden life

I come from a family which valued academic knowledge and education. My mother and aunt were primary school teachers; my parents paid for me to go to a private school from the ages of eleven to eighteen. I was academically intelligent and won a place to Keble College, Oxford, at the age of eighteen; I became a teacher myself. Education and academic attainment have been a ‘normal’ way of life for me.
Yet I soon learned that emotional intelligence is at least as important as a good I.Q. (if not more so!) and that contentment has little to do with academic knowledge. Wisdom is not the same as knowledge. Living among people is the part of life which requires skills ‘book knowledge’ cannot teach.
Over the years I have learned to value diversity and practical skills, understanding that we all have different personalities and qualities and skills, and that there is room – indeed, necessity – for us all. The Bible makes this plain when describing the church as a body (Romans 12/ 1 Corinthians 12), and for me, true skill in life must understand and value community. No man is an island, even an introvert like myself, for whom people are, by and large, still a mystery!
Another valuable life lesson I have learned is the importance of the ordinary and the role of faithfulness in people’s lives. George Eliot wrote,
“The effect of her being on those around her was incalculably diffusive for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistorical acts, and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life and rest in unvisited tombs.” (“Middlemarch”)
Many people live dissatisfied lives because they feel their lives lack achievement, fame or fortune. I would argue that to live faithfully a hidden life is in fact a significant achievement. To live well among people, to love faithfully and to be the person God made you to be is surely the definition of success.

Repetition and Growth

I love reading the ‘Hairy Maclary’ series of books to my grandchildren. The illustrations of dogs and cats in these books are beautifully detailed, but it is the language which captivates. Written in rhyme, the stories use repetition, alliteration and metre to carry their animal adventures to toddlers who are still unable to talk. The rich vocabulary (including words like ‘bumptious’, ‘skedadlle’, ‘hullaballo’, ‘frolicking’) enchants from an early age. The books are wonderfully crafted and appeal to children of different ages; their language means an adult can read them without falling asleep too, which is always a bonus!
Repetition in children’s boooks is clearly a valuable teaching tool. Repetition embeds language in us until understanding emerges. It provides an anchor in a story, a familiar point which helps the child to learn. Repetition is a valuable literary device – because so often, we fail to grasp things that are mentioned only once!
Psalm 80, a psalm written during the dark times of invasion and exile, uses repetition. The refrain ‘Restore us… make Your face shine on us, that we may be saved’ occurs three times (Ps 80:3, 7, 19) It’s not wrong to pray the same thing more than once! Repetition reminds us of what’s important in the story (God’s favour and help being important things to remember!)
But the refrain is not mere repetition. The way the psalmist addresses God changes. In verse 3, he prays to ‘God’; in verse 7, to ‘God Almighty’; in verse 19 to ‘Lord God Almighty.’ His request may be the same, but his understanding of who God is has been enlarged.
This is what happens as we pray. Our woes may stay the same. Our pleas for help may stay the same. But our understanding of who God is, the revelation of God’s nature and power – these change as we pray. Gradually, God fills more of our vision and we become more attuned to Him. The important thing is to keep on praying!

Apprenticeship

Apprenticeship – a period of time when a person learns an art, trade or job under the supervision of a skilled worker in that field – seems to me to be one of the best ways to learn. It also seems to be the Biblical way of training leaders. Joshua was Moses’s second-in-command for years. Elisha spent time alongside Elijah, and Jesus took a group of twelve men and worked with them for three-and-a-half years before His death.
Apprenticeship combines the theory (teaching) and the practical (actually doing the job) and is worked out in the real world over a period of time, acknowledging that it takes time to master skills (practice makes perfect!) Experience and wisdom can be passed on in this method.
Yesterday I mused on Elisha’s apprenticeship (pouring water on the hands of Elijah), and pondered the menial, unglamorous nature of ministry, commenting that service is the key to greatness in God’s kingdom. Today I read of the miracles Elisha subsequently saw: feeding a hundred with minimal food (2 Kings 4:42-44), ensuring poisoned food did not harm anyone (2 Kings 4:38-41), healing Naaman of leprosy (2 Kings 5:1-14). I read about his extraordinary prophetic gift in knowing what kings were planning in secret (2 Kings 6:8-23) or knowing what his servant did in his absence (2 Kings 5:24-27). The miraculous seems almost commonplace in the life of Elisha, proof that the double portion of Elijah’s spirit which had been his one request of his master had been fulfilled.
Proverbs 18:12 says that ‘humility comes before honour.’ There is nothing glamorous about apprenticeship; the apprentice must learn to do all the jobs, even the ones he would prefer to avoid. An attitude of humility can’t be exchanged for pride or arrogance even when the apprenticeship is over. But there is a clear Biblical precedent that we must learn humility before ever we can know honour. Elisha clearly learned this lesson well, and so must we.

Qualifications in God’s Kingdom

When we compose a C. V. or job application, we expect to list our achievements and accomplishments; we aim to impress potential employers with our past prowess. When a person dies, an obituary tends to focus on achievements and accomplishments, defining a person’s worth and value by these things. It comes as something of a shock, then, to realise that God’s recommendations are very different and the job specifications in His kingdom tend to focus less on our prowess and more on our heart attitudes.
When the kings of Israel and Judah were debating wars, Jehoshaphat stopped to ask if there was a prophet of the Lord through whom they could seek God’s will and mind. (2 Kings 3:11) He was told, ‘Ellisha son of Shaphat is here. He used to pour water on the hands of Elijah.’ (2 Kings 3:11)
We know Elisha to be a prophet of God, mightily used by God in a host of miracles. To hear him described as the one ‘who used to pour water on the hands of Elijah’ is not the recommendation we would have expected (or given.) It’s a qualification for wisdom and godliness which seems odd to us. After all, what has pouring water on a man’s hands – the menial task of a servant – got to do with hearing God’s voice and proclaiming His will to kings?
The job was a servant’s. It implied closeness, yes (and Elijah was probably the greatest prophet in Israel after Moses), but there are plenty of servants mentioned in the Bible who were not qualified for their master’s role simply by propinquity. Nonetheless, Elisha’s job description in this instance perfectly marked him out for his role as Elijah’s successor.
Because servanthood is at the very heart of greatness in God’s kingdom. Jesus said that whoever wants to be great in God’s kingdom has to become as a lowly child  (Matt 18:4), has to become a servant of all. (Mark 9:35) He demonstrated the principle of serving when He washed His disciples’ feet (John 13), and made it plain that even He did not come to be served, but to serve. (Mark 10:45) The ‘qualification’ for a disciple of Jesus is not how much theology we know or how many miracles we have performed. It is the mark of loving service.
I’m sure most of us would have resented this description of Elisha if it had been applied to us. We don’t really want to be known simply as ‘the one who made cups of tea at church’ or ‘the one who smiles at people when they come in.’ Such descriptions seem insignificant. We don’t value servants and never have.
But God does.
We do ultimately remember Elisha for far more than his role as Elijah’s servant. His words to the kings and their fulfilment in 2 Kings 3 show his closeness to God and how God was able to use him in miraculous ways. But it all starts with a servant’s heart, where no job is too lowly, where personal aggrandisment is simply not a part of our mindset. If we want to be great, we must learn to serve.