Moving on from the inward disciplines of prayer, fasting, meditation and study, this Sunday we looked at the outward disciplines of solitude, simplicity, submission and service, rejoicing at the fact that all our disciplines arise from the relationship we already have with the Lord, made possible for us by the death and resurrection of the Lord Jesus Christ which we celebrated this weekend.

Solitude
As always, Jesus is for us the example of the need to make time to be alone with God. He often withdraw by himself to pray and encouraged his disciples to take time out to be alone with Him.(Luke 6:12, John 6:14, Mark 6:31-32) Solitude with God is not about temperament and clearly God has made us to be in fellowship with people as well, but there is a need to carve time to ‘keep watch’ with God if we are to walk closely with Him.

Simplicity
Our lives (and homes!) so easily become cluttered up with things and we are bombarded daily by advertising that attempts to persuade us that happiness is bound up in possessions: the latest phone, car, computer, gadget etc. Jesus taught us the dangers of this way of thinking: “Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; life does not consist in an abundance of possessions.” (Luke 12:15) We have to learn the lessons of thankfulness and gratitude (think Madame Blueberry in the Veggie Tales episode on these themes!) so that we know the truth of Paul’s words “godliness with contentment is great gain.” (1 Tim 6:6)

Simplicity, being free from the covetousness of things and people, is linked to contentment: as Paul says, “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” (Phil 4:11-13) We can know peace and contentment in our lives and a freedom from covetousness because we have a heavenly Father who knows what we need and who has promised to supply all our needs. Our part is to guard our hearts against all kinds of greed and to be prepared and willing to live in simplicity, bucking the trend around us, not always having to keep up appearances.

Submission
Submission is not something we find easy to do! Submission really starts with a heart attitude that is manifested in actions. The heart attitude accepts that God is great and that He is Lord. (Ps 100:3, Deut 32:4) Our view of God will affect how we view submission: we need to have confidence in God’s goodness and plans for our lives, even when circumstances apparently contradict that thing.

Submission to God is the starting point for all victory. Jesus submitted to God’s will in the Garden of Gethsemane and that submission was what gave us Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Without that submission, we wouldn’t have Easter to celebrate! It was only when Jacob wrestled with God and had his hip socket wrenched, so he ever afterwards walked with a limp, that he became Israel (Gen 32). We cannot know victory unless we have first known defeat. We have to learn to ‘live to lose’ (Aaron Shust) if we are to know victory. We cannot know life unless we have tasted death. Easter Sunday proves that.

Again, Jesus is our perfect model for submission (Phil 2:5-11). When we look at Him, we can fulfil Paul’s command “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.” (Phil 2:3-4), for submission to God inevitably must lead to submission to other people.

Service
We are saved to serve. “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” (Eph 2:10) As with everything, though, we need to be clear that we are not serving God to earn His favour. We already have that through the wondrous death and resurrection of the Lord! We are serving God out of thankfulness and gratitude, out of awestruck adoration, because we know that we have so much entirely because of His mercy and grace. We are not serving because we are deserving, or because of our own righteousness; we are serving because we want to. It’s the very least we can do.

Service can take so many different forms. Service is not just about the public ministries in a church; it’s not just about preaching or praying or leading worship or playing an instrument or serving Communion. Service is offering a cup of cold water in Christ’s name (Matt 10:42). It’s giving someone a meal or some item of clothing or visiting someone in prison (Matt 25:31-46). It’s showing hospitality to someone (Rom 12:9 & Heb 13:2) or taking the time to encourage someone (Rom 12:8). It’s giving generously (Rom 12:8). It’s digging the drains!

So often we think that what we do is worthless, insignificant, hardly worth noticing. But God notices everything. He sees all our service and He is no man’s debtor. What is done in secret, He has told us, He will reward openly. We need to remember that our service is an offering to God and we need also to understand that there are times when we must persevere in our service. “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers.” (Gal 6:9-10)

Pupils at school, when learning about Easter, almost always ask the question, “Why is it called ‘Good Friday’ when it’s the day Jesus died? What’s good about that?”

English is one of the few languages that calls this day ‘Good’ and apparently in Middle English, the word ‘good’ had the sense of ‘holy’, which is what some other languages call the day (for example, in French, it’s ‘Vendredi Saint’ – Holy Friday.) In German, it’s called ‘Karfreitag’, with ‘Kar’ having the meaning of ‘crying out’ or ‘lamenting’ – again, given the circumstances of the agony of the Crucifixion, this seems a reasonable name to give to the day when we remember the death of Jesus.

Yet I’m very glad that the day is called ‘Good Friday’, because it reminds us that victory can come out of tragedy and that what we see isn’t usually the whole story. What’s good about the day is that Jesus died not because of the whims of men or because of injustice or cruelty (though these may well have been factors), but because it was part of God’s great plan of salvation. Because of His death, we can know forgiveness and peace with God. Our sins were taken by Him and He took the punishment that should have been ours. He became sin for us. “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation.” (2 Cor 5:17-19)

Hebrews tells us that for the joy set before Him, Jesus endured the cross. (Heb 12:2) Though the day was one of great pain, sorrow, lament and agony for Jesus, He looked beyond that to know that His sacrifice would bring about redemption. As Isaiah prophesied, “After he has suffered, he will see the light of life and be satisfied; by his knowledge my righteous servant will justify many, and he will bear their iniquities.” (Is 53:11)

Good Friday is remembered by Christians each year as the day when God’s plan of salvation was finally revealed. Though we have to wait until Easter Sunday to understand the full scope of that plan, though the day was one of unimaginable sorrow and grief, we can call it a good day because of the work Christ accomplished on the cross, work that is indeed finished.

Have a good day!

I make no apologies for dwelling on the same Bible verses of late; this is all part of meditation, ‘gnawing’ on God’s word until we have drained every last drop of nutrition from it. All too often I skip over passages merrily, keen to prove what a good speed reader I am. Now I’m slowing down, mulling over, reflecting, chewing…

I have always loved the Message version of Matthew 11:28-30 and today had new insight into the part that says “Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.”

Normally I swim and go to the gym separately, not keen on doing too much exercise at once, not keen on exhausting myself, if I’m honest. But today I had an unexpected lift into town that meant I arrived too early for swimming and wondering how to kill the time. So I decided to go to the gym first and swim after, secretly wondering if by the time I went swimming, I’d have any energy left at all.

It was then that I discovered why I much prefer swimming to anything else I can do exercise-wise. As I got into the water, tired and sweaty from the gym, it felt so easy to be in that atmosphere, where the water buoys you up and you barely feel like you’re moving at all. I understood what this verse talks about with ‘unforced rhythms’. Arms and legs moved in coordinated action and there was rhythm there. Totally unforced, very little conscious thought going on, relaxed movement in this environment of water where I felt rested, weightless and capable of doing far more than I’d ever imagined.

Music is a bit like that too. A good melody is full of different rhythms, blending together to form a tune that is repeatable, singable, fun. It takes very little ‘knowledge’ to learn a song and yet it always amazes me when I see that same song written down in the wonderful language of music notation. The rhythms are so complicated: dotted quavers, semiquavers, crotchets, minims, rests, syncopation, tied notes… how I love the language of music, but how it makes me think so hard when I see it written down compared to when I immerse myself in its unforced rhythms. I’m reminded of Ellis Peters’ wonderful Cadfael chronicles and the precentor Brother Anselm who writes down the tunes the minstrel Liliwen plays, to the young man’s amazement (‘The Sanctuary Sparrow’). The language of music notation enables others to reproduce the same rhythms, the same melodies, and consequently marvellous music lives on.

The ‘unforced rhythms of grace’ are so different to the forced constraints of the law. Legalism ties us up in lists of dos and don’ts: prescribing specific courses of action for any and every situation, adding minutiae to overburdened lives. We feel like we’re drowning in a sea of paperwork, squeezing every talent we have into government tick boxes, reducing life to a series of targets and outcomes and outputs. If we’re not careful, we’re like David forced into Saul’s armour. We can’t function in that way, because we’re not meant to. David had to fight Goliath relying on God’s strength, not relying on Saul’s armour. Similarly, we have to live in the ‘unforced rhythms of grace’, not in the straitjacket of the law.

Paul tells the Galatians, “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.” (Gal 5:1) We need to understand and revel in God’s grace. We are loved, accepted and welcomed into God’s family, not on the basis of what we can do, but on the basis of what He has done for us. We learn from Jesus how to live in a right relationship with the Father and understand that there’s nothing more we can do to earn His favour. Our whole lives can be like unforced rhythms, like swimming in water that buoys you up and keeps you afloat. We don’t have to be squeezed into the world’s mould, trying to be like someone else, always feeling we need to ‘depersonalise everyone into a rival’ (Gal 5, The Message) or to elbow others out of the way in order to ensure our own success. Instead, we can allow God to bring forth fruit in our lives and can rest in the knowledge that He who’s begun this good work in us will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus (Phil 1:6).

A cliché, the dictionary tells us, is “a phrase or opinion that is overused and betrays a lack of original thought.” As a literary device, it’s not considered a good idea. Other words that come to mind are hackneyed (lacking significance through having been overused) or trite (overused and consequently of little import; lacking originality or freshness). Any author or writer will want to avoid these things!

And yet…

I watched an old Clint Eastwood film yesterday, the first he ever directed himself. It’s called ‘Play Misty For Me’ and is a tale of unrequited love and the dangers of obsession, about a woman who develops a grand passion for a DJ and ends up threatening violence and death because her ‘love’ is not reciprocated. I found it pretty predictable, lacking emotional impact (mainly because I didn’t like any of the characters!), and tedious in places. Not renowned for my great perspicacity in film-watching, I predicted just about every plot twist before it happened and consequently felt a little bit cheated at the end of the film. I’m a great admirer of Clint Eastwood and this film certainly lacked the impact ‘Unforgiven’ or ‘Gran Turino’ had on me.

Similarly, earlier in the week I’d read a review of Tim Hughes’s new album ‘Love Shine Through’ that talked about the banality of some lyrics, complaining about trite phrases in worship songs. That got me interested, because the song in question (‘Keep The Faith‘) is one I absolutely love.

What was the difference, I asked myself, between the frustration I felt at the clichés in the film and the frustration the reviewer felt at the lyrics in the song and the way other people view the film and I view the song? Yes, personal preferences obviously come into the equation, but what is it about words which can inspire one person and leave another feeling cold?

As someone fascinated and bewitched by words, I have been thinking a lot about these things lately, particularly about metaphor, how language can be used to state something which is actually not what the individual words mean in themselves. I love words that startle me, expressions that make me see truth in a different light, that tease my imagination and open up new paths of thinking. Lyrics such as ‘reckless abandon wrapped in common sense’ (Casting Crowns, ‘Somewhere In The Middle’), ‘the impoverished power that sets the soul free’ (Michael Card, ‘The Basin and the Towel’), ‘we’re all hanging empty, empty and upside down’ (Rich Mullins, ‘Somewhere’) capture me. They lead me on new journeys to discover more of the vastness of God, to understand the complexity of the human heart and to see and live in a different way.

Yet I have come to the conclusion that maybe we shouldn’t be so quick to shun clichés, to cold-shouder banalities or to dismiss platitudes as ‘meaningless’. If they express truth, however repetitive that truth may sound to our itching ears, then they have achieved something. Truth is truth. We can’t dismiss something as unimportant just because it’s packaged in a way we’re familiar with. As Ecclesiastes points out ‘there is nothing new under the sun.’ (Eccl 1:9)

As someone with great respect for wordsmiths who craft words on a daily basis, I think we perhaps need to understand that a cliché is only meaningless if we shrug off the truth it contains. Original thought is great and I love the way people can help us to see truth in a new way by the words they use. Nonetheless, simplicity doesn’t have to be irrelevant and truth doesn’t have to be constantly repackaged to appeal to us. Maybe we need to recapture simple truths, in whatever form they come, and never lose that childlike wonder at the mysteries that can be revealed through words.

Having a servant’s heart is a key element in true and proper worship.

In Tim Hughes’s book ‘A Passion For Your Name‘, he tells the story of a well-known worship leader who as a young man was very keen to be involved in leading worship. He spoke to his pastor about his desire and this calling on his life, and was offered a job as a cleaner for the church. He agreed, thinking this would be an interim job, but as time went on and his main role continued to be cleaning the toilets and hoovering the carpets, he started to resent it. He couldn’t understand why the pastor was overlooking his God-given talents and using him to do a job that anyone could perform. Then one day as he was cleaning, he found that in his heart he was worshipping the Lord. It dawned on him that what he was doing he could do for the glory of God – it was worship. It was in that place that he learned the true heart of worship. (P 33)

I am privileged to worship alongside people who understand what it means to have a servant’s heart. I consider myself blessed to worship alongside leaders who don’t mind doing whatever is necessary to help God’s church. I am so grateful to be part of a church that understands that true and proper worship is about so much more than what we do for an hour or so in a Sunday service.

Frank Peretti, in his book “The Visitation”, talks about the life of a local church in the United States. It’s a fictional account, but as I read it, I recognise so many real churches from the narrative. The narrator, a jaded, weary ex-pastor named Travis, is talking about his church and what God has done there over the years in changing the lives of ordinary people. One character, Mr Framer, started coming to church because of the kindness of the pastor’s wife in giving him haircuts and soon decided to donate a chemical toilet to the church. That small decision was instrumental in his wife attending church and gradually they both became Christians. Travis goes on to remark wryly “when we installed men’s and women’s flush toilet restrooms in the basement, the Framers were there to cut the ribbon.”

Many people don’t feel that toilets, drains, manual labour or practical work have any part in what we call worship. They feel that such things are ‘worldly’ and are not worth mentioning. I disagree vehemently with that opinion. Paul teaches us that we are one body with many parts, and that every functioning part is necessary to the benefit of the whole.

“Now if the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? But in fact God has placed the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be. If they were all one part, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, but one body.” (1 Cor 12:15-20)

He goes even further, stressing that the parts we may think of as being less important are actually fundamental:

“The eye cannot say to the hand, “I don’t need you!” And the head cannot say to the feet, “I don’t need you!” On the contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and the parts that we think are less honourable we treat with special honour. And the parts that are unpresentable are treated with special modesty, while our presentable parts need no special treatment. But God has put the body together, giving greater honour to the parts that lacked it, so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other.” (1 Cor 12:21-25)

May we all realise our great value and importance, not only to the Lord, but also to His body, the church, and may we understand the significance of our service as true and proper worship.

Perhaps one of the most well-known verses in the Bible about worship is Romans 12:1:
“Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship.”

I’m thinking about worship as a lifestyle a lot lately, and have been meditating on this verse. It clearly talks about worship as a way of life, as the Message version brings out even more clearly:
“Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering.”

This past week, an awful lot of work has gone on at church to sort out the problem with the drains. I doubt that the people who have sweated in the sunshine (why is the weather always good when you have hard manual labour to do?!) to dig out the old drains and put in new ones have thought of this work as ‘worship’, but I would contend that that is precisely what their work has been. They have offered their ordinary ‘going-to-work’ life to God to help sort out a very practical problem. They have not stinted on hard work or shunned doing what is, if we’re honest, not a particularly nice job. Dave’s appalling pun about ‘are you just going through the motions?’ was the least of their worries, as the photos show! But in offering themselves, in giving up their time and in doing the sheer hard work that was necessary to solve the problem, they have given true and proper worship to God.

Digging out to get to the problem:

Finding the blockage:



New piping



Filling in yet more layers: