At the Bible study tonight, we looked at James 3:1-12. James has been showing us the connection between faith and works, and our speech is another area where the connection between what we believe and how we live needs to be lived out. This passage in many Bibles is headed ‘taming the tongue’ (reminiscent of Sunday’s sermon on meekness, where we learnt about the ‘wild stallion tamed‘.) The passage is not difficult to understand – what is difficult is actually putting it into practice!

James uses examples to paint pictures of how the small body part known as the tongue has influence beyond its size. He talks about the bit used to direct a horse or the rudder used to steer a ship – both seemingly small things that ultimately exercise great control. In the same way, he says, the tongue is just a small part of the body, but makes great boasts. It’s like a spark that sets a whole forest on fire. His language is blunt and unequivocal: “The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole body, sets the whole course of one’s life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell.” (James 3:6) He goes on to compare it to ‘a restless evil, full of deadly poison.’ (James 3:7)

The poison comes, he says, when out of the same mouth come both praise and cursing. Our speech to and about God may be pious, but if we are not speaking well to and about men (made in God’s image), there is dissonance. Our lives are not integrated. This kind of disparity can’t continue: ‘my brothers and sisters, this should not be!’ (James 3:10)

We looked at why words are so important (because they reflect who God is and the medium through which He has chosen to work – see Ps 33:4, 6; Ps 12:6, John 1:1, Genesis 1:1).

We looked also at how our speech often falls short of what God wants it to be (see Ps 55:21, Ps 64:2-4, Prov 12:18, Prov 18:8, Eccl 5:3, Matt 12:36-37).

We also looked at what our speech should be like: how we need to meditate on God’s word and pray that our words will be pleasing to Him (Ps 19:14), how we must hide His word in our hearts so that we do not sin against God (Ps 119:11), how we must live not on bread alone but on every word that proceeds from the mouth of God (Matt 4:4) and how a gentle answer can turn away wrath (Prov 15:1). Jesus, in the parable of the wise and foolish builders, showed us that the difference between wisdom and folly really lies in whether we put His words into practice or not (Matt 7:24-26). James has had much to say about this already in James 1!

Words are powerful and can be used for good purposes or bad ones. We can use words thoughtlessly, unwisely, rashly, hastily, cruelly, unkindly, jokingly, tactlessly…. Sometimes it’s not just about the actual words we say but how we say them that matters! Quite often, we need to be quicker to listen than to speak and learn to think before we speak, for after all, words are only the overflow of the heart. They reveal what is within.

The real problem we face is not our words. Our words may well be the symptom; the disease is an unsurrendered heart (see Matt 12:33-37; Mark 7:20-23). Just as a leopard cannot change its spots, so the taming of the tongue is beyond our human strength (see Jer 13:24; James 3:8). We have to raise our white flag in surrender to God before ever we can hope to gain mastery over our speech, for we need to have the mind of Christ formed in us if we are to live the kind of life He calls us to.

Gran Torino (2008 film directed by, and starring, Clint Eastwood) is a modern parable on meekness and self-sacrifice.

Like any parable, it tells a story: the story of an old, irascible war veteran and factory worker, Walt, and his increasing alienation from his own sons and grudging acceptance of his neighbours whose Hmong ethnic identity he finds difficult to accept, following his experiences of war. His despair at the mindless gang violence in American society, his scorn of his wife’s Catholic faith, his seething rage against the ills of scoiety, his racist dislike of immigrants and his stoic acceptance of his own mortality unfold gradually. Anyone less likely to be thought of as meek would be hard to find.

The character’s natural defence is offence. When youths treaten his property, he takes a gun to them, not cowed by age or afraid of their aggressive bluster. When these youths threaten his new-found friends, his whole instinct is towards protection and revenge. Here is no naturally meek man.

As the violence escalates, it becomes obvious there is not going to be any easy solution and the brooding, reflective quality of this tormented main character leaves audiences wondering if they are going to witness a bloodbath. There is never enough evidence to convict the real perpetrators of violence; the law’s hands appear to be tied. Not so Walt’s. Locking the victim’s indignant brother (who is fuelled by righteous anger and ripe for revenge) in his basement to keep him out of harm’s way, Walt goes to meet the thugs. He sacrifices himself to their bullets, provoking them to fire the incriminating shots by reaching for his matches and deceiving them into thinking he is reaching, once again, for his gun. This time, however, he has chosen to lay down his life for his friends – friends whom he once considered his enemies. Now the police have all the evidence they need for convictions and the crime wave is, here at least, finally halted.

The parable is stunning: no-one expects Walt to offer himself willingly. His character throughout the film has seemed intent on revenge, on believing violence is the best way to secure defence. There has been no indication that he respects the priest who tries to win him to his fold; rather, he has appeared scornful and impatient with all of Christianity’s tenets, tormented by his own sins and unwilling to believe in grace and mercy because he does not deserve them. But at the end of the film, he shows a perfect understanding of the nature of meekness: a willing submission, a conscious choice, a knowledge that sacrifice is necessary at times to achieve a greater goal. No one who sees Walt’s sacrifice can surely fail to understand the choices involved in meekness, but – as Garry pointed out last night – meekness can often look to others like weakness and with it comes, at times, great personal cost.

Garry cotninued his study of the Beatitudes last night, looking at Matt 5:5 (“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.”)

Meekness is not a quality the world values. It is perceived as being the same as weakness. Biblical meekness can look like weakness to the world, but there is a world of difference. Weakness results from impotence, from an inability to act in a given situation, from powerlessness. Meekness, on the other hand, results from choice, from the conscious decision to submit to One whose authority is total and whose love is unending.

Jesus said (Matt 11:28-30) that He wsa gentle (or meek) and humble and urged His disciples to imitate Him. Words can change their meaning over the years (eg ‘let’ in the KJV rendering of 2 Thess 2:7 meant ‘hold back’ or ‘prevent’ rather than the ‘allow’ it means nowadays). Meekness means mildness and gentleness. It’s the word used in Matt 21:5 to describe Jesus’s entry into Jerusalem. He knew what awaited Him there, but entered quietly and determinedly.

In ordinary Greek, the word was used to:
(1) describe a wild stallion that has been tamed, brought under control and rendered fit for service. When God tells us to be meek, He wants us to be harnessed to His service. Meekness is “the opposite of self-will towards God” (Matthew Henry) and allows us to do what the Father wants. Just as a tamed horse does what the rider wants (think of the dressage competitions in the Olympics), so we too need to do what our heavenly Father wants.

(2) reflect on carefully chosen words that soothe strong emotions (see Proverbs 15:1)

(3) describe an ointment that takes out the sting from a wound. Meekness acts as a ‘shock absorber’, drawing out pain from another and refusing to retaliate. It refuses to be stung into action on our behalf.

(4) describe a child who asks a doctor to be ‘meek’, not inflicting harm. It describes strength under control, a calm and purposeful spirit, tact and courtesy.

Isaiah described Jesus’s meekness in the passages on the Suffering Servant (see Is 53:7). Peter – himself tamed by Jesus – talks of submission even to masters who are not kind (1 Pet 2:18-25) as a way of imitating Christ’s submission. In Matt 26:47-54, Jesus refused to allow swords to be drawn when soldiers came to arrest Him. He knew that God’s will would only be achieved through His sacrifice. He could have called down angels to defend Himself, but He chose instead to submit to God’s plan. Moses, called the ‘meekest man’, was tamed through his time in the wilderness so that he could go back to Pharaoh, secure in God’s plan for salvation rather than trusting in his own.

The meek need great courage and great faith, and to such people God promises the earth. Do we not only have the guts to be meek, but also have the faith?

Mark followed on from Stephen’s sermon last week on rebuilding broken walls by looking at ‘possessing the gates of the enemy’ (Gen 24:60) this morning.

Gates are often found in cities and towns and serve a dual purpose of keeping out enemies and letting people in. Gates separate areas, acting as boundaries. In Biblical times, gates were often the place where business deals were discussed and sorted (see the book of Ruth.) This verse in Genesis forms part of the prayer of blessing on Rebekah’s marriage, for if you possessed the gates of your enemy, then you were the master, in control (and having a large family was also perceived as a great blessing!)

Psalm 24 also looks at the imagery of gates: verses 7 and 9 say “Lift up your heads, O you gates; lift them up, you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in.” When a king arrived at a city, the gates would be swung wide open to allow him to enter in all his splendour and majesty. Jesus knocks at the gates of our hearts, wanting us to open up our lives fully to Him. This happens initially at salvation, and that doorway leads to everlasting life. As we progress in the Christian life, though, there is a need to keep on opening the doors of our lives to Christ, for there should be no secret gardens, no hidden rooms. Often it gets progressively harder to allow Christ into every area of our lives, for we like to be guarded and on the defensive. We need to allow Him full access, however, for this is the King of Glory, the Lord of hosts, who wants to come in! He is the captain of all the angel armies, Lord of everything on heaven and on earth. We need to give Him entrance to our lives.

Matthew 16:13-19 looks at the words of Jesus in telling us that He will build His church and the gates of Hades will not overcome it. Just as citizens are given the ‘key to the city’ as an honour, so too Jesus, the Key Keeper, gives us the keys to unlock the enemy’s territories.

Jesus is the Builder of His church; we are the bricks. The gates of hell will not be able to prevail against the Church (see also 1 John 4:4) As we open the gates of our lives to Christ, then we have the power and access to overcome all the enemy would throw against us; we can also plunder His kingdom so that the Light of the World may be seen and lives transformed and rescued!

On an interesting side-note, Psalm 24 has been the inspiration for a number of songs on this theme. You can listen to some of these by clicking on the links below:
Chris Tomlin, ‘King of Glory’
Godfrey Birtill, ‘Lift Up Your Heads’
Kutless, ‘Give Us Clean Hands’
(And that’s not to mention older ones by Graham Kendrick or Chris Bowater! Clearly this psalm’s imagery resonates with songwriters! How many more songs can you name?!)

Just in case anyone has been having withdrawal symptoms from Igor the iguana… He is still well, not enjoying the English autumn (being a warm-blooded reptile), but sadly has not been on many adventures lately. The closest he has come to an adventure was last night at church:

Mind you, he now has two motorbike tanks to guard, so I suppose his time is well spent in other ways! (and I was assured his timing on the drums was pretty good too!)

Stephen’s recent DIY experiences in completely renovating the bathroom at home led to this sermon on broken walls, with Nehemiah 1:3 as the starting point for the sermon. In this book, Nehemiah is one of the people God uses to encourage and help Israel to rebuild Jerusalem on their return from captivity. God is the God of second chances and Nehemiah’s practical help in inspiring and overseeing the building work were essential to the restoration of Jersualem.

Using paving blocks as illustrations…

… Stephen talked about structure, how structure defines a space and how the simplest structure is to build 4 walls to create a room with inner and outer space. Our ‘spiritual space’ is defined as we build, one brick at a time – a manageable achievement.

He then went on to talk about accessibility, often achieved through a doorway, which can both keep things out and allow things in. There are things in our lives which we must shun in order to walk with God; there are other things which must be embraced.

Walls afford protection (think of any fortified city). A ceiling provides protection from the elements, for example, in a building. God’s Word offers us protection and He is our shield and defender.

Building also involves boundaries. There is a clear line separating one area from another. Boundaries are our guideliness, our limits, our rules. We need to heed the boundaries set in God’s Word if we are to live as He wants us to.

Building also implies ownership.

God has ownership of our lives (we are not our own; He has purchased us with the blood of Christ.) We can stand tall under His leadership.

Is our life behind a firm structure?
Has our spiritual life got divine space, accessibility, protection and boundaries? Does God have ownership of our lives?
Are our defences secure against the invasion of the enemy?

We have to remember that the devil seeks to find strongholds in our lives, but these quickly become strangleholds. We need to be attentive to build our spiritual lives, one brick at a time, building with the kind of vision that sees the end product even in the ruins and rubble. We need also to give God all we have and are.