Now when the Pharisees gathered to him, with some of the scribes who had come from Jerusalem, they saw that some of his disciples ate with hands that were defiled, that is, unwashed. (For the Pharisees and all the Jews do not eat unless they wash their hands properly, holding to the tradition of the elders, and when they come from the marketplace, they do not eat unless they wash. And there are many other traditions that they observe, such as the washing of cups and pots and copper vessels and dining couches.) And the Pharisees and the scribes asked him, “Why do your disciples not walk according to the tradition of the elders, but eat with defiled hands?” And he said to them, “Well did Isaiah prophesy of you hypocrites, as it is written, “ ‘This people honours me with their lips, but their heart is far from me; in vain do they worship me, teaching as doctrines the commandments of men.’ You leave the commandment of God and hold to the tradition of men.”

And he called the people to him again and said to them, “Hear me, all of you, and understand: There is nothing outside a person that by going into him can defile him, but the things that come out of a person are what defile him.”

For from within, out of the heart of man, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, coveting, wickedness, deceit, sensuality, envy, slander, pride, foolishness. All these evil things come from within, and they defile a person.” (Mark 7:1–8 , 14-15, 21–23)

Ever since Sunday School the Pharisees have been the bogey men of the Gospel. When they are mentioned we are ready to boo. It’s never good news, and it’s clear Jesus wasn’t impressed, but why would this be the case? After all they had a complete devotion to God, and sought to live their lives with a full commitment to the commandments of God. Surely this it to be commended. Their respect for the Law, and commitment to practices such as ritual washing are things we would expect to earn praise. In fact, you have to admit that Jesus’s own disciples do not match up to their high standards. “Why do your disciples not walk according to the tradition of the elders, but eat with defiled hands?”, they ask.

The problem is this: none of these rules are actually in the Bible. There was a huge superstructure of tradition built on the slimmest of foundations. Take the washings as an example. Within the Old Testament Law it was only the priests who had to perform a ritual washing, and then only in certain circumstances not before every meal. The ‘Tradition of the Elders’ was just that: a tradition. But like many traditions is began with good intentions.

The Pharisees were certain that God would bless Israel once again if the Jews entirely kept his law. All too aware that they were under Roman occupation, they understood this as judgment. Keep the Law, and the judgment will lift. In order to ensure that the Law was not broken by accident, they devised a number of practices - the traditions. To ensure that you didn’t accidentally work on the Sabbath, regulations were devised as to what exactly was work. So it was that walking more than a mile was ruled out of order. The focus shifted from the Laws which God gave onto the regulations which the Elders had devised. The great irony in all of this was that God himself got rather lost in the mix.

Lest we think that this simply a problem of antiquity, we would do well to realise that we all have our traditions. Customs of the church, things originally devised to help people with their faith, become rigid. Ideas become rules, and the modern church can become as rule bound as the traditionally minded. If we are not careful, we write our own books of the Bible, certain patterns and practices we must all follow to earn God’s blessing.

The great tragedy in all of this is that faith gets lost. Rather than a living dependance of God, a list of rules becomes the norm. The right things are said, sung and done but the point is lost. Christianity become rigid and moribund, or simply a morality code. Worse, the institution of the church displaces God from the centre of things.

This is not to say that all tradition is wrong, but there is great danger when it ceases to be an aid to relating to God, and becomes the goal itself.

So what to do? Jesus points to core issue: the heart. In the end externals don’t really matter, what matters is the state of your heart. Christianity is lived from the inside out, and what renders us clean or unclean is what comes the heart. The business of the faith is the renovation of the human heart, reconnecting us to God. Knowledge of the Bible is one thing, having the Bible reveal to us the living God is another. Christianity is relating to God, not the keeping of rules. An internal affair, not external regulations.

The problem with the Pharisees was that their faith had become an external matter. Rules had supplanted relating to God. Earning God’s favour had replaced revelling in the grace of a forgiving God. Christianity is a matter of the heart.

So what might we do about all of this? Move from rule to relationship. When you read the Bible, don’t simply read for information. Pray before you read. Ask yourself: what does this tell me about God? How should this change the way I think and act? How might I respond? And when you pray, you are not simply leaving a to-do list on a divine answerphone. Leave space in your prayers. Allow God to communicate. Converse with God rather than speak at him. In other words, treat God as a person and not a thing.

Christianity is a living faith in the living God. Don’t smother it with bare rituals.

Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever feeds on me, he also will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like the bread the fathers ate, and died. Whoever feeds on this bread will live forever.” Jesus said these things in the synagogue, as he taught at Capernaum.

When many of his disciples heard it, they said, “This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?” But Jesus, knowing in himself that his disciples were grumbling about this, said to them, “Do you take offence at this? Then what if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before? It is the Spirit who gives life; the flesh is no help at all. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life. But there are some of you who do not believe.” (For Jesus knew from the beginning who those were who did not believe, and who it was who would betray him.) And he said, “This is why I told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted him by the Father.”

After this many of his disciples turned back and no longer walked with him. So Jesus said to the twelve, “Do you want to go away as well?” Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God.” (John 6:56–69, ESV)

I don’t know exactly what it would have been like in that Capernaum synagogue, but I have a hunch. There would have been readings, prayers and a sermon - that much is certain - but I suspect the atmosphere would normally have been fairly quiet. The sermon would explain a passage of the scriptures, and the mood was of reverence. And then, in the midst of this, Jesus stands up and says: ”whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him”. Strong stuff. No wonder the disciples grumbled to each other “this is a hard saying; who can listen to it?”. They took offence.

On the one hand being a disciple was easy. Jesus could draw a crowd of five thousand, and heal the sick. He could feed that multitude, and walk upon the water. He was popular, and so to follow Jesus was to be one of many. To be a disciple was to be part of the inner core of a popular teacher. However, Jesus is more than simply a wonder worker. He teaches too.

It is the teaching of Jesus which causes the problems. He is the way back to God, he preaches, and the gate to eternal life. He is life, and has been sent by the Father, by God himself. He makes great claims to exclusivity, and disputes with the Temple officials. His words are “spirit and life” but they are not easy.

Which is why “no one can come to me unless it is granted him by the Father”. Our spiritual eyes need to be opened to him. Our hearts softened to receive his words. We have to take him, teaching and all. Half a Jesus is no Jesus at all.

This is the problem with what might be called a ‘secular Jesus’. Christ is often admired as a great teacher. Some even look to him to be more, to offer some sort of healing or prosperity. The problem is that the closer you look at him, the more offensive he comes. We might seek a Jesus who walks around in a white robe with a neatly trimmed beard, a Jesus who is just nice. But that Jesus doesn’t exist. Instead we have to deal with a Jesus who says that he is the onlyway back to God, which of course means that all paths don’t lead to God. We have a Jesus who teachers that suffering is part of the Faith. That we have to be different to those who live around us.

To be brief: to follow Jesus means you will follow a path which is different to the wider culture in which we live. And that can be uncomfortable. No wonder “many of his disciples turned back and no longer walked with him”.

And yet. And yet when Jesus asked the twelve “do you want to go away as well?” Peter answered for them: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God.”

In the end it is only Jesus who can reveal God to us fully. It is only Jesus who teaches us the way back to God. Only Jesus is the Holy One of God.

That is why as the disciples believed, and put their trust in him, they came to know that there is no other way. They could not turn back because they had found Christ. The more we accept the words of Jesus and live by them the more they impart life to us. Following may be difficult at times, but it is the only way. If is the way given us by Christ. And he alone is the “Holy One of God”.

God’s grace is not cheap, but it is worth everything. Christianity is not a thin veneer to can apply to your life, but it is your whole life. To try and knock off the bits of Christianity which offend is to lose it all. We end up with a cliche in sandals. Christianity may be radical, it may be costly, but then it should be. It is worth everything.

In the end cheap Christianity is just that: cheap. Don’t settle for it - go for the real thing.

Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is. And do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit, addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with your heart, giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ. (Ephesians 5:15–21)

I wonder how much consideration you give to how you go about your day by day tasks: the places you go, and the things you do as you bumble on through the week. A lot of life is conducted on auto-pilot, and the habits built up over decades are deeply rooted. It is often the case that there are things we do, and we are not quite sure why.

In this context, Paul’s words come as something of jolt. “Look carefully”, he writes, “how you walk”. The meaning of the original Greek is to do with precise and close scrutiny. This is really paying attention, assessing what you do, which suggests that this is important. Christianity is something which is put into practice. What you believe affects how you behave.

Paul gives us some contrasts to help in this task, contrasts which get to the heart of the matter.

First of all he highlights the difference between being wise and unwise, which of course begs the question: what does he mean by wise? It might helpful to rule out some of the things he doesn’t mean. Wisdom is not the same as knowledge. To be wise doesn’t mean you know a lot of facts, or to have amassed a lot of qualifications. Wisdom is not the same as intelligence. Plenty of clever people make mistakes, they just make them more efficiently.

Wisdom is a practical affair. It is applying your knowledge to a situation, and - in the Bible - it is concerns applying your knowledge of God to a situation. How might God wish me to live here? What would be a godly response to this event? In the end it is consciously living your life in the presence of God. It is to be in awe of God’s goodness and greatness, which is why the Bible asserts that the “fear of God is the beginning of wisdom”. This is not the fear of enraging a tyrant, but rather the fear a child has of upsetting a parent. A loving fear, and something we can see a little later in the passage when Paul writes: “therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is”.

Wisdom is knowing the will of God. It is gained through prayer, and dwelling on what we find in the Bible.

Paul then goes on to give another pair of opposites: “making the best use of the time, because the days are evil”. Often I hear people say they are “killing time”. It might be watching the television, scrolling away on a phone screen or - if you are character in a Wodehouse novel - flicking playing cards into a top hat. Paul takes a different approach.

How we pass our time is important. The phrase “spending time” is helpful here. When you spend money you are careful with it, when you spend time you should be equally helpful. After all, you only have so much! The world around us is dotted with potential pitfalls, and when times change they don’t always change for the better. To be intentional in the way you spend time is an important way of living wisely, living in the presence of God.

The final of Paul’s pair of opposites give us help in how to spend that time: “and do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit…”. Here we find two ways of seeking joy, but they lead in opposite directions. To be “drunk with wine” (or other ways of seeking happiness though material means) is fleeting and false. Mere distractions. To be filled with the Spirit is to be changed, and have happiness within. No need to seek for it elsewhere. But how might one be filled with the Spirit? Paul continues:

addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with your heart, giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ.

Note that Paul begins with something we do together: “addressing one another…”. Worshipping together in church is something which strengthens, and Christianity is something best done in groups. We encourage one another as we sing, and the Covid restrictions have certainly showed us what we lose when congregational singing is prohibited. Singing is a heart affair, and the heart withers without it.

Next in line is thankfulness, thanking God for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. To understand your life is a gift from God is a joyous thing. To thank God for his grace is not only proper, but reminds us that we have received gifts. To be thankful is a joyful and wise pattern of living, but it does need some thought. It is not something which comes naturally as we like to think we deserve all the good which comes our way. To feed you prayers by going back over your day and identifying the things for which you may give thanks is a most helpful practice.

Paul finishes on a note of service: “submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ”. If the church is the Body of Christ (and it is) then we see Christ in its members. To serve each other is to serve Christ, and we do so out of reverence for him. True joy is not found in serving yourself, but in serving others. Not selfish, but selfless. This is what it is to be wise, to live in the presence of God.

Yes, Christianity has its doctrine and beliefs but it also has its ways of living. The two are, of course, closely connected - your actions demonstrate your true beliefs - and they reinforce each other. You beliefs are strengthened when you act them out, and the motivation for your actions come from your beliefs. To live wisely is to have the two in harmony with each other. To live wisely is to deepen your knowledge of God, and then act on it.

Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst…

So the Jews grumbled about him, because he said, “I am the bread that came down from heaven.” They said, “Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How does he now say, ‘I have come down from heaven’?” Jesus answered them, “Do not grumble among yourselves. No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him. And I will raise him up on the last day. It is written in the Prophets, ‘And they will all be taught by God.’ Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me— not that anyone has seen the Father except he who is from God; he has seen the Father. Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes has eternal life. I am the bread of life. Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” (John 6:35, 41–51)

In last week’s reading we saw that Jesus himself stands at the centre of Christianity. That, of course, should be no surprise to us since this is Christianity after all. All too often, though, people simply dismiss Jesus as a good teacher pointing to God. What they miss is the fact that Jesus is God. Or, as the creed puts it, “God of God, Light of Light, Very God of very God, Begotten, not made, Being of one substance with the Father”.

This is the issue in this week’s reading. The Jews thought Jesus was a good teacher, and spoke with authority, but when he claims to have come down from heaven that’s simply too much. They know his parents - he comes from Nazareth, not heaven. To be frank, isn’t he just going too far? He’s just a normal person, and one from an unfashionable part of the country.

And so they grumble.

It is in this context that Jesus makes his reply, and defends his words. In fact, if we allow Jesus to speak for himself we discover that he makes some truly extraordinary claims. He certainly did not think of himself as simply a religious teacher.

The first claim Jesus makes is that “no one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him”. Make no mistake, this is a saying which can cause offence since it diminishes our own abilities. In a society founded upon the idea of consumer choice, to be told that you cannot come unless God draws you is unpopular. And yet here it is: Jesus insists that the reason his hearers reject him is because they have not been drawn to him by the Father. Of course, Jesus continues, this is something foreseen there in the Scriptures - “it is written in the Prophets, ‘And they will all be taught by God’”. Ultimately this is all in the hands of the Father.

The second claim Jesus makes concerns those who have been drawn to him by the Father: “I will raise him up on the last day”. Now, to us “last day” sounds like the end of term, but to the listening Jews this has a deeply apocalyptic ring. The last day is the day of judgement, the day of reckoning. This is the “day of the Lord”, and for Jesus to claim a pivotal role in it is a mighty claim indeed. That he is the one who gives life, who ‘raises up’ people, is not the claim of a mere teacher from a small backwater town.

The third claim is equally incendiary: “not that anyone has seen the Father except he who is from God; he has seen the Father”. To claim to have seen the Father - to have seen God - is a staggering claim to Jewish ears. To be able to see God is to be equal to God in holiness. Even Moses was only permitted to see God’s back. Jewish tradition has it that Isaiah was sawn in two with a wooden saw for daring to claim he simply had a vision of God. For Jesus to claim that he is from God, and has seen God, would be outrageous to Jewish ears. Or, at least, to those who had not been drawn to Jesus by the Father.

There is yet more in this tightly-packed dialogue. Jesus continues that whoever believes has eternal life. He is the “the living bread that came down from heaven” and “if anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever”. To believe in Jesus is to receive eternal life. He is the gateway, and the one to whom the Father ‘draws’ those who are to believe. He is the one who raises up people on the last day. He is the one who gives eternal life.

These claims are staggering. Jesus is not simply talking about God. He is God. He is the one through whom all things are restored to God, something seen in the final of Jesus’ claims: “the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh”. It is his death which will reconcile the believer to God.

All of this suggests that the claims that Jesus is just a teacher, one amongst many, does not stand up. If Jesus is a good teacher then his words tell us he is more than just a teacher. If his words are misleading, then he is no longer a good teacher but a danger. He cannot both be a good teacher, and also one whose words can be dismissed. That is to commit an error in logic.

No. We would do well to allow Jesus to speak for himself, and to acknowledge the vast scope of the claims he makes about himself. As he himself will say much later: “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6). What words! What teaching.

“So when the crowd saw that Jesus was not there, nor his disciples, they themselves got into the boats and went to Capernaum, seeking Jesus.

When they found him on the other side of the sea, they said to him, “Rabbi, when did you come here?” Jesus answered them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, you are seeking me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to you. For on him God the Father has set his seal.” Then they said to him, “What must we do, to be doing the works of God?” Jesus answered them, “This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent.” So they said to him, “Then what sign do you do, that we may see and believe you? What work do you perform? Our fathers ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written, ‘He gave them bread from heaven to eat.’ ” Jesus then said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but my Father gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is he who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” They said to him, “Sir, give us this bread always.”

Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.” (John 6:24–35)

The events in this passage occur after the feeding of the five thousand. The crowds wanted to make Jesus their king, but he resisted and instead withdrew from them. Here, they find him again and wonder when he got there. All rather mundane stuff, considering the great miracle they had just witnessed! Surely, the question should be: how did you do that?!

The problem was, as Jesus replied, that the people were really just after the bread. What they wanted was a full stomach, material comfort. They weren’t much interested in the message of Jesus, much less the fact that “the Word became flesh” and was standing before them. This was all rather reminiscent of the Israelites who were in the wilderness after the Exodus, fifteen hundred years or so before. They were being fed with manna from heaven - what grace! - but quickly lost sight of the hand of God in all this:

Now the rabble that was among them had a strong craving. And the people of Israel also wept again and said, “Oh that we had meat to eat! We remember the fish we ate in Egypt that cost nothing, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic. But now our strength is dried up, and there is nothing at all but this manna to look at.” (Numbers 11:4–6)

How quickly we lose our focus! How quickly our minds move from God to our bellies! “Do not work for the food that perishes” urges Jesus, “but for the food that endures to eternal life”. Broaden your outlook! Your stomach perishes in the grave, but your soul continues. Your future stretches to eternity, not simply three score years and ten.

His hearers respond. They understand what Jesus is getting at, but they still fail to recognise who it is that is speaking to them. Jesus has said that the “food that endures to eternal life” will come from him, the Son of Man. It will be freely given. They, though, still think this is something to be earned. Maybe by offering the right sacrifices, perhaps by keeping the right rules. So it is they respond: “what must we do, to be doing the works of God”.

To this question, Jesus gives the answer: “believe in him whom he has sent”. Here lies the heart of Christianity, the key to unlock the great gospel of God: belief. Christianity is not a matter of acting in the right way, or showing up at the right times. It is a matter of believing in Christ.

Now you might shrug your shoulders, and think: is that it? After all belief isn’t difficult - it’s hardly going down the mines! But I wonder if that really is the case? To believe in Christ is not simply to believe that he exists. After all, there’s plenty of evidence outside of Christianity which points to the fact that he did. To believe Jesus walked in Israel two thousand years ago is simply to be a competent historian. To believe in Christ is to believe in all that he taught and did. It is to place your trust in him, and then to follow him. It’s not good saying you believe in someone who gives you directions, and then driving off in the opposite directions. Belief affects actions. And that is why it is a challenge, a call.

To believe in Jesus means that, at times, we will be at odds with a society which has a different set of values and follows a different pattern of life. To believe in Jesus means putting your trust in his way. To accept the Scriptures, and to put them into action. That’s not easy. That is why it is the “work of God”.

The conversation continues, and the crowd now want some proof: what sign do you do? They remember that their forefathers received manna in the wilderness, and they want to see what Jesus would do. They seem to have forgotten that he had just fed five-thousand! Jesus responds that he is the bread which comes down from heaven. The thing that gives life. The staple of life. “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst”, says Jesus.

In a world which asserts that all religions are the same, and that to have no faith is as valid as having faith, these words of Jesus stand as an offence. They put him at the heart of any approach to God, and put belief in him as the “work” which restores us to God. This a claim to exclusivity. All must come through Christ.

After this Jesus went away to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, which is the Sea of Tiberias. And a large crowd was following him, because they saw the signs that he was doing on the sick. Jesus went up on the mountain, and there he sat down with his disciples. Now the Passover, the feast of the Jews, was at hand. Lifting up his eyes, then, and seeing that a large crowd was coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, “Where are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?” He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he would do. Philip answered him, “Two hundred denarii worth of bread would not be enough for each of them to get a little.” One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to him, “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish, but what are they for so many?” Jesus said, “Have the people sit down.” Now there was much grass in the place. So the men sat down, about five thousand in number. Jesus then took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated. So also the fish, as much as they wanted. And when they had eaten their fill, he told his disciples, “Gather up the leftover fragments, that nothing may be lost.” So they gathered them up and filled twelve baskets with fragments from the five barley loaves left by those who had eaten. When the people saw the sign that he had done, they said, “This is indeed the Prophet who is to come into the world!” Perceiving then that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, Jesus withdrew again to the mountain by himself.

When evening came, his disciples went down to the sea, got into a boat, and started across the sea to Capernaum. It was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. The sea became rough because a strong wind was blowing. When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus walking on the sea and coming near the boat, and they were frightened. But he said to them, “It is I; do not be afraid.” Then they were glad to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat was at the land to which they were going.” (John 6:1–21)

There’s a lot going on in this passage! Five thousand are fed, and the Sea of Galilee becomes a pathway upon which Jesus walks. Rather than keep you enrapt for hours with thousands of words, I thought I might focus in on one phrase at the end of the account of the feeding of the five thousand: “they were about to come and take him by force to make him king”.

The crowds who had been fed by Jesus were deeply impressed with him. In fact, they thought he might be “the Prophet”. Which prophet? The one referred to in Deuteronomy 18:15, where Moses says: “The LORD your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among you, from your brothers—it is to him you shall listen …”. Here, the crowd thought, was another great prophet like Moses, another leader like the one who led them out of bondage in Egypt. What better man to throw off the Roman yoke, to restore Israel to Jewish rule? So it is that they want to make Jesus king. And so it is that Jesus withdraws to a mountain.

So what is the issue? Simply put, it’s the difference between heaven and earth. The crowd around Jesus were after what we would recognise as a kingdom, something with border, laws and a king. They were thinking in the political realm, but Jesus was talking about something different. The “kingdom of God” is not a geographical area.

Earlier in this Gospel, when speaking with Nicodemus, Jesus says: “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God” (John 3:5). Entry to the kingdom of God is not via passport control, but by something deeper. Much later on, Jesus makes a similar point to Pilate: “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not from the world” (John 18:37).

So what is the Kingdom of God? The answer is in the word: kingdom.

In Greek, the word which is translated ‘kingdom’ does not primarily mean ‘kingdom’! It means ‘reign’. In other words, the kingdom of God is the place where a God reigns, and that is not a geographical concept. It has to do with the individual heart. It is to do with who has the highest authority in someone’s life. This is why Jesus talks about the inhabitants of the Kingdom of God being born again, and the fact that his kingdom is “not of this world”. It is the place where God reigns. Rather than being orientated towards ourselves, or to wider society, we are orientated towards God. We carry heavenly passports.

Extending the Kingdom of God, then, is a matter of spreading the message of God and inviting people to come under his reign. It is something which is done person by person, soul by soul. It is not something which is inherited, or bestowed upon you by virtue of being born in a particular country. It is the result of asking yourself: who am I serving? Who is the king in my life?

Those who wished to take Jesus and crown him were merely looking to an external reality. They hoped for a king like David, who would be a military leader. Who could defeat enemies and defend borders. Jesus was looking for something greater, a king who can change human hearts and transcend borders.

Never be satisfied with a merely external or physical form of faith. Embrace the Kingdom of God! Allow God to reign, and be transformed. Earthly kingdoms come and go, but the Kingdom of God lasts forever.

The apostles returned to Jesus and told him all that they had done and taught. And he said to them, “Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while.” For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a desolate place by themselves. Now many saw them going and recognised them, and they ran there on foot from all the towns and got there ahead of them. When he went ashore he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. And he began to teach them many things.

…

When they had crossed over, they came to land at Gennesaret and moored to the shore. And when they got out of the boat, the people immediately recognised him and ran about the whole region and began to bring the sick people on their beds to wherever they heard he was. And wherever he came, in villages, cities, or countryside, they laid the sick in the marketplaces and implored him that they might touch even the fringe of his garment. And as many as touched it were made well. (Mark 6:30–34, 53-56)

Well, what am I supposed to do with this? In their wisdom, the compilers of the lectionary have decided to take two passages some twenty verses apart and shove them together. It’s not as if nothing much is happening in this section of Mark’s gospel. In fact, between the two passages we have the feeding of the five thousand and Christ walking on the water. All rather odd, and I am sitting here typing away feeling rather grumpy about these two passages welded together like a badly-repaired 1970s Ford Cortina.

Anyway, moan over. There’s one image in the first of the two passages which I’d like to spend a little time considering: “he had compassion on them, because they were like a sheep without a shepherd” (Mark 6:34).

To anyone who has come across sheep who have managed to wriggle through a small hole in a hedge the image of sheep without a shepherd might suggest aimless wandering. I often used to drive across a common towards the top of Clee Hill where the sheep roamed free, and they often would find themselves on bizarre ledges or munching within a few feet of the traffic. To a Jew hearing Mark’s gospel, a rather different image would come to mind. Read this from Jeremiah with Mark’s comment about ‘sheep without a shepherd’ in mind:

“Woe to the shepherds who destroy and scatter the sheep of my pasture!” declares the LORD. Therefore thus says the LORD, the God of Israel, concerning the shepherds who care for my people: “You have scattered my flock and have driven them away, and you have not attended to them. Behold, I will attend to you for your evil deeds, declares the LORD. Then I will gather the remnant of my flock out of all the countries where I have driven them, and I will bring them back to their fold, and they shall be fruitful and multiply. I will set shepherds over them who will care for them, and they shall fear no more, nor be dismayed, neither shall any be missing, declares the LORD. “Behold, the days are coming, declares the LORD, when I will raise up for David a righteous Branch, and he shall reign as king and deal wisely, and shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. In his days Judah will be saved, and Israel will dwell securely. And this is the name by which he will be called: ‘The LORD is our righteousness.’ (Jeremiah 23:1–6)

Here’s one of those occasions when we can see that the Old Testament is important for understanding the New Testament. There is one story which unfolds across both Old and New Testaments, and to simply read the New Testament is rather like only reading the final chapter of an Agatha Christie mystery and wondering who all these people are.

So back to Jeremiah. Look again, and note who the shepherd is in this case. The people of Israel have been left leaderless, or rather their leaders have proved themselves to be wolves. The people are scattered and neglected. They have been driven into other countries (think the Jews in exile in Babylon, and the northern tribes who were scattered throughout the Assyrian empire two centuries earlier). There is only a remnant left, just a few, and to these a new shepherd comes: God himself. “I will gather the remnant of my flock … and I will bring them back”. Only then, we read, will God “set shepherds over them who will care for them”.

So it is that Jesus the good shepherd is in fact the LORD returning to shepherd his people, those sheep without a shepherd. He is, as Isaiah foresees, the “righteous Branch” of King David. He is the one from the line of David who will reign. He is the one who will bring Salvation to Judah. He is the one who is called “The LORD is our righteousness”.

So it is that Jesus is king and shepherd, another shepherd king like David. So it is also that Jesus is “our righteousness”. When we come to be judged by God, we can trust in Jesus’s righteousness rather than our own. We place our faith in what Jesus has done, not in what we do. It is the LORD who is our righteousness, and not ourselves. This is a fact so marvellous that one Reformer was brought to heights of praise:

This is the wonderful exchange which, out of his measureless benevolence, he has made with us; that, becoming Son of man with us, he has made us sons of God with him; that, by his descent to earth, he has prepared an ascent to heaven for us; that, by taking on our mortality, he has conferred his immortality upon us; that, accepting our weakness, he has strengthened us by his power; that, receiving our poverty unto himself, he has transferred his wealth to us; that, taking the weight of our iniquity upon himself (which oppressed us), he has clothed us with his righteousness. (John Calvin).

So it is that when we look to the Old as well as the New, that when we read the Scriptures as a whole and not simply a collection of unconnected books, we discover the great plot of salvation. Yes, Jesus is a shepherd but he is also more than a shepherd. He is the great shepherd to which Isaiah (and Ezekiel) looked. The seeds of Christ’s ministry lie throughout the Old Testament and as we read the Bible as a whole we marvel as they grow.

So don’t take two passages and shunt them together, as today’s set reading has attempted. Allow the Bible to be the Bible and you will see in it the tracings of the finger of God.

Remember the days of old; consider the years of many generations; ask your father, and he will show you, your elders, and they will tell you. (Deuteronomy 32:7)

I must confess I love the clanking, dusty, noisy past. I may be tapping away on a laptop, listening to some music from my phone, but I am under no illusions that something is better simply because it is new. The great joy of living in the twenty-first century is that behind us lies twenty centuries of Christian thought which has been weighed up, chewed over and thoroughly assessed. These greats of the past are still in print, and their wisdom is still of great relevance.

If you go to a rocky beach, you will soon find rock pools. Disconnected from the sea, they have their own little ecology but they will slowly evaporate and all will die. A form of Christianity which has lost its connection with the great sea of the past will suffer a similar fate. It is too shallow, and simply evaporates. In a well known quote, C S Lewis makes the point well:

Barfield never made me an Anthroposophist, but his counterattacks destroyed forever two elements in my own thought. In the first place he made short work of what I have called my "chronological snobbery," the uncritical acceptance of the intellectual climate common to our own age and the assumption that whatever has gone out of date is on that account discredited. You must find why it went out of date. Was it ever refuted (and if so by whom, where, and how conclusively) or did it merely die away as fashions do? If the latter, this tells us nothing about its truth or falsehood. From seeing this, one passes to the realization that our own age is also "a period," and certainly has, like all periods, its own characteristic illusions. They are likeliest to lurk in those widespread assumptions which are so ingrained in the age that no one dares to attack or feels it necessary to defend them.

Oh Christian, you stand at the forefront of twenty centuries of the church! The pages of the past are written with tales of our spiritual forebears, and their words still ring clear. The history of the church is our family history, and enriches our experience of the present.

Be wary of falling for something simply because it’s new. Often it isn’t, it’s just something which was dismissed in the past and then forgotten.

Photo of Hereford Chained Library by oci4 on Flickr

When you come, bring the cloak that I left with Carpus at Troas, also the books, and above all the parchments. (1 Timothy 4:13)

Now, I’m aware that some of you will see this as a case of special pleading. I do have an awful lot of books, and I as I am keen to point out to anyone who doesn’t ask: I collect books which is a different thing to reading books! But don’t let this mislead you, the reading of books is still of great benefit to the Christian.

The reasons for this are many, but underlying them all is that Christianity is an endlessly fascinating and uplifting subject. Biographies of great figures of the past can inspire, and books on particular issues can distill the wisdom of the ages into a dozen chapters. Bible atlases can open up the landscape and geography of the ancient world, and other books on the Bible can describe everyday life in ancient Israel. Some texts help you get to grips with Paul’s thought, and others will trace themes from Genesis to Revelation. A commentary will gently guide you though a single book of the Bible.

So where to start? That is a more difficult question now than it was twenty years ago. By and large Christian bookshops have disappeared, and even a city as large as Bristol has none. Surprisingly, though, there are two near us: one in Newent with a cafe attached, and another in Bromyard. Neither are huge, but they do give an opportunity to flip through some pages before you buy.

In an effort to be helpful, I have put together a page of suggested books on our website, with links to an online bookseller. I have only scratched the surface, and would be delighted to give recommendations.

View our Resources page

Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need. (Hebrews 4:16)

Prayer is, I think, one of the least taught aspects of the Christian faith. We see a certain type of prayer modelled for us in a Sunday service, but that is not the totality of prayer. Prayer is more than simply giving God his divine to-do list, and then leaving him to get on with it.

At its base, prayer is consciously being in the presence of God. It is talking to God. It is an awareness that this is a place where God is, and that makes a difference. Some prayer may be wordless - at times words are hard to find - or a pouring out of the heart. It might be silent, spoken or written. Perhaps the written prayers of others might act as a ‘starter’ to begin prayer, or it might be that your own words flow more easily. Some wrestle in prayer at night, others might speak a single line in the midst of the day.

The point is this: there is no single prescription for prayer. It differs from person to person.

It is also the case that prayer gets more straightforward the more we pray. The old saying goes: “how do you get to Carnegie Hall? Practice!”, and that rings true for prayer too. At times it is easier than at other times, but the more you pray the richer it becomes.

So pray! Perhaps make a list of people and situations to pray for. Launch out, or use some familiar prayers to begin. Maybe go through the Lord’s Prayer line by line, dwelling on each petition. The ways are endless, but they all start with a beginning.

So begin!

Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path. (Psalm 119:105)

As we draw this sixteen month run of emails to a close, I thought it appropriate to highlight four ways in which the Christian life may be sustained.

Now, it will come as a surprise to precisely none of you that I see that Bible as the foundational document for the Christian faith, and I should really explain why I believe this to be the case. In the end, the essential question at the heart of Christianity is: how do I know? Know anything about an infinite God, know anything about Jesus himself, know anything about what is required of me? You only have to look back over your own lifetime to see how fashions and values have changed. In fact, the change over the past fifteen years has been pretty staggering.

There’s a quote attributed to C S Lewis: “All that is not eternal is eternally useless”. In fast shifting sands, we are in need of a solid rock on which to stand. If we are to avoid the mistake of remaking God into whatever any period of time finds acceptable we need an eternal perspective. And this is where the Bible comes in.

In the Scriptures we have a document which spans many centuries, and has stood the test of the passing millennia. The church through the ages has attested to its inspired nature, and is has proved to be the link between us now and the church throughout the ages. Given it is the “Word of the Lord” it has an eternal relevance, and can also serve to challenge our sometimes lazy presuppositions.

Over the past twenty years I have spent plenty of long hours studying the Bible: for preaching; for lecturing; for writing; and for personal edification. The more I do this, the more I can echo the words of the Psalmist: “your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path”.

Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God (Hebrews 13:16)

We come to an end of this short series of emails looking at a small passage in the seventeenth century book “All Things for Good” by Thomas Watson. If you are interested, you may find it here. As he draws to a close, this great Puritan writer discusses the influence we might bring to bear upon others.

Christianity is not a private affair, but is lived out in the public sphere. As God has done good for us, so we do good for others and thereby win influence for the gospel. We are saved to do good works in the name of Christ. Note: saved to do good works, not saved by good works! We are to be a sweet ornament to wider society, and a spreader of God’s grace.

This is the ordinary life of the Christian, a life lived out in wider society and a life which reflects the grace of God. Jesus uses the imagery of salt when describing this: as salt preserves and brings flavour, so must we.

To Watson:

As Mary poured the ointment on Christ, so by good works we pour ointments on the head of the gospel, and make it give forth a fragrant smell. Good works, though they are not causes of salvation — yet they are evidences. When with our Saviour we go about doing good, and send abroad the refreshing influence of our liberality, we walk worthy of our high calling.

For you were straying like sheep, but have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls. (1 Peter 2:25)

Sheep are not the brightest of beasts, and are prone to wander. Any small hole in a hedge poses a challenge, any gap is a call to escape. The thing with sheep is that they thoroughly enjoy wandering off, as if they were browsing the hedges for bargains.

And such were we, but now the great shepherd of our souls has rounded us up and brought us to rich pastures. Now we graze under his protective eye. Yet this shepherd is more than simply an external guide, he is also the “overseer of your souls”. He it is who, though our consciences, prods us onto the right paths.

In yet another purple passage, Watson invokes the image of a bishop, since the word “overseer” might also be translated bishop. We must be careful to listen to this overseer, and not to allow another to usurp his place. The voice of God is the voice of the shepherd, bringing all to safety.

Conscience is God's diocese, where none has right to visit—but He who is the Bishop of our souls (1 Pet. 2:25). We must not be like hot iron, which may be beaten into any form. A brave spirited Christian will rather suffer, than let his conscience be violated. Here is the serpent and the dove united—sagacity and innocence. This prudential walking corresponds with our high calling, and much adorns the gospel of Christ.

King Herod heard of it, for Jesus’ name had become known. Some said, “John the Baptist has been raised from the dead. That is why these miraculous powers are at work in him.” But others said, “He is Elijah.” And others said, “He is a prophet, like one of the prophets of old.” But when Herod heard of it, he said, “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.” For it was Herod who had sent and seized John and bound him in prison for the sake of Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife, because he had married her. For John had been saying to Herod, “It is not lawful for you to have your brother’s wife.” And Herodias had a grudge against him and wanted to put him to death. But she could not, for Herod feared John, knowing that he was a righteous and holy man, and he kept him safe. When he heard him, he was greatly perplexed, and yet he heard him gladly.

But an opportunity came when Herod on his birthday gave a banquet for his nobles and military commanders and the leading men of Galilee. For when Herodias’s daughter came in and danced, she pleased Herod and his guests. And the king said to the girl, “Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it to you.” And he vowed to her, “Whatever you ask me, I will give you, up to half of my kingdom.” And she went out and said to her mother, “For what should I ask?” And she said, “The head of John the Baptist.” And she came in immediately with haste to the king and asked, saying, “I want you to give me at once the head of John the Baptist on a platter.” And the king was exceedingly sorry, but because of his oaths and his guests he did not want to break his word to her. And immediately the king sent an executioner with orders to bring John’s head. He went and beheaded him in the prison and brought his head on a platter and gave it to the girl, and the girl gave it to her mother. When his disciples heard of it, they came and took his body and laid it in a tomb. (Mark 6:14–29)

Poor old Herod had it all. He was a man with power - a king no less - and the wealth that power attracts. He bore influence in his realm and was ready to wield it. Amongst the Jews in Israel who would have had more freedom than he did? And yet it all went terribly wrong in this sorry tale of the execution of John the Baptist.

The point is this: Herod did not want to kill John the Baptist. He might have said uncomfortable things about his marriage, but John was held in high regard by the king. “He heard him gladly”. The monarch would regularly visit the prophet, even though “greatly perplexed”. Even though his wife took a dim view.

So what went wrong? Something which can all too often go wrong for us too.

To explain what I have in mind, allow me to contrast the two men in this account. John is a man who clearly is obedient to the call of God. He knew that to wade into the matter of the king’s marriage was a dangerous thing to do, but he could do nothing else but act upon the prompting of God. Herod, on the other hand, is fascinated by John and although worried by what he says keeps coming back for more. Yet he does not act. John preaches, but Herod prevaricates. John is obedient but Herod is merely intrigued. It’s a case of action versus curiosity.

We can see in all of this something crucial. In the end our reaction to the promptings of God makes all the difference. God usually does not operate through neon signs, lowered between the clouds. Commonly we are aware of promptings and a sense of ‘oughtness’. Oh, well then you must act and do something. There may well be 101 reasons to try and ignore what you feel God is prompting you to do - timing, embarrassment, a lack of energy - but to take no notice of the proddings only weakens you in your faith.

The second contrast is to do with stuff, with God’s provision. Herod was a man of luxury, and it is fair to say that an outfit of camel’s hair and a diet of locusts and wild honey is far from fancy. John had submitted everything to God, but Herod clearly thought all his goods were his own to do with as he liked. After all, he feels free to pledge half his kingdom in an oath. But “The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof, the world and those who dwell therein” (Psalm 24:1). It’s not Herod’s to do with as he wills. Or ours. Rather than owners, we find in scripture the notion that we are stewards of the earth. Ultimately all is of God, and so we must have an explanation of how we deal with our resources. In the Acts of the Apostles, goods were held in common for the good of the early church. As we say in the communion service “all things come from your, and of your own do we give you”. There is a freedom in not being so concerned with possessions that they end up obsessing you!

The final contrast is to do with reputation. For John, God’s praise was paramount. He wanted to do what was right, and live in obedience to his call. Even to death. For Herod he was more concerned about what his guests might think if he broke his rash oath. In Romans 12:2, Paul urges: “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect”. In the actions of Herod, whose desire to save face lead to John losing his head, we see a sorry example of failing to heed Paul’s advice. I wonder what we are put off from doing through embarrassment, or a desire to be accepted. Do we find ourselves constrained by the opinions of others. In the end, there is only one person whose opinion matters.

So there we have it. Herod and John. One who looked around for approval, and the other who only looked up. One who only listened, and the other who also acted. One who held all that he had close to him, and the other who put it all in God’s hands. In the end Herod was haunted by his decision, thinking that Jesus was John the Baptist back from the dead. John though had a life transformed, and died at peace with God.

Two choices as to how to live are clearly laid out in front of us.

Finally, all of you, have unity of mind, sympathy, brotherly love, a tender heart, and a humble mind. Do not repay evil for evil or reviling for reviling, but on the contrary, bless, for to this you were called, that you may obtain a blessing. (1 Peter 3:8-9)

The good old King James Version renders 1 Peter 3:8 as: “Finally, be ye all of one mind, having compassion one of another, love as brethren, be pitiful, be courteous”. Be courteous.

It is fair to say that courtesy is not widespread in the public realm, or at least it is not much present on social media (which at times is far more anti-social). Rhetoric is rarely under-heated and outrage is always close to the surface. Now, the internet is not real life but it does seem that common courtesy is less common than was once the case.

Courtesy is a child of grace, and as Christians we have received extraordinary grace from God. As we receive, so we give. As one much forgiven we forgive much. As one on whom Christ had compassion, we are compassionate to others. As we follow a much mocked and insulted Christ, we endure those insults in good humour. The seventeenth century was a period of great religious persecution and controversy, yet Watson seeks a more courteous path:

The spirit of the gospel is full of meekness and politeness. "Be courteous" (1 Pet. 3:8). Take heed of a morose, or haughty behaviour. Religion does not take away civility— but refines it. “Abraham stood up, and bowed himself to the children of Heth” (Gen. 23:7). Though they were of a heathenish race—yet Abraham gave them a civil respect. Paul was of an affable temper. “I am made all things to men, that I might by all means save some” (1 Cor. 9:22). In lesser matters the apostle yielded to others—that by his winning manner, he might win upon them.

The wise person has his eyes in his head, but the fool walks in darkness. (Ecclesiastes 2:14).

Those who plunge themselves into Classical Greek literature - think Plato and his ilk - will be familiar with the trial of Socrates which took place in 399 BC. During his hearing, the philosopher uttered the words: “the unexamined life is not worth living”. Well, in fact he said “ὁ ... ἀνεξέταστος βίος οὐ βιωτὸς ἀνθρώπῳ” but only because he’d not had the benefit of a fine English education.

Two hundred years earlier, the prophet Jeremiah lamented the destruction of Jerusalem and urged the survivors: “Let us test and examine our ways, and return to the LORD!” (Lamentation 3:40). Far from being mere introspection, what is in mind is a consideration of the heart. Are we living in ways consistent with our beliefs, let alone the will of God? In the end if your deeds do not match up with your values you become deeply conflicted. And then of course there is the danger of being branded a hypocrite.

The calling of God is a calling not only to believe certain things, but also to put them into practice. It is as these two aspects align themselves that true satisfaction is found. To walk out your faith is to find a path to contentment. It is also a deep witness to your faith - you are willing to put it into practice.

Others watch for our halting, therefore we had need look to our standing. We must beware, not only of scandals— but of all that is unfitting, lest thereby we open the mouth of others with a fresh cry against religion. If our piety will not convert men—our prudence may silence them. (Thomas Watson).

“For the people of Israel have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword, and I, even I only, am left, and they seek my life, to take it away” (1 Kings 19:10).

The history of the church is long, and often perilous. At times persecutions break out, and great pressure is put on Christians to abandon their faith. At other times, though, the pressure is subtler and far more dangerous for the future of the church.

It is all too common to hear people suggest that the doctrines of the church are unimportant. What is more important, it is suggested, is people’s experience of God. The Christian life is the only thing which matters, so don’t spend all this time arguing about narrow points of theology. There is danger in this view.

I may have a great interest in eating mushrooms. I walk up onto the hills, and find mushrooms in the woods and some on the open ground. I’ve not bothered about the whole study of fungi, the important thing is to enjoy the mushrooms! So out I go, bag in hand, and bring back a frying pan full for lunch. Yum.

If only I’d read a book on mushrooms, I would have found that many have alarming names: deadly webcap; death cap; destroying angel; funeral bell; and so on. In the end the theory is important so that you don’t make a fatal mistake with your practice.

So it is with theology. At times courageous theologians have made a stand against the majority of those around them who just weren’t bothered, and were on the verge of making a fatal error. They resisted the call to just compromise and get on with it, and history has been their vindication.

Though in civil things singularity is not commendable —yet in religion it is good to be singular. Melanchthon was the glory of the age he lived in. Athanasius was singularly holy; he appeared for God when the stream of the times ran another way. It is better to be a pattern of holiness, than a partner in wickedness. It is better to go to heaven with a few, than to hell in the crowd! We must walk in an opposite course to the people of the world. (Thomas Watson)

And as for all who walk by this rule, peace and mercy be upon them, and upon the Israel of God. (Galatians 6:16)

One common image the Bible uses for the Godly life is walking. Enoch, Noah and Abraham were all described as walking with God and the Jews were often urged to walk in God’s laws. The Christian life is not a static one, but active. It is walking, not sitting.

The point of the image is that Christian life is one of progress and advancement. Growth is needed for the mustard seed to become a large plant. There is more, too: when we walk before God that means every part of our lives are lived in his presence. We march to a different beat and walk a different path.

In the end, this isall about putting Christianity into practice. Theory is all well and good, but practice brings the theory into reality. A guidebook is fine, but visiting a city is better. Head knowledge needs to become heart knowledge.

For many long centuries we have seen ourselves as a Christian nation, and so to walk the Christian path has been straightforward. Now, though, the Christian walk might be different to societies norms. No matter. In the end there is only one path which leads to “peace and mercy”. To quote from Watson once more:

When we leave men's inventions, and cleave to God's institutions; when we walk after the Word, as Israel after the pillar of fire; this is walking worthy of our heavenly calling.

I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called (Ephesians 4:1).

In 1940, the sixty year old General William Dobbie was dining at his club. At the outbreak of war he’d offered his services to the War Office, but nothing had come his way. Frustrated, he was working his way through his lunch when he received a message that Field Marshal Ironside was in the club, and wanted a word. Dobbie went, and spoke to Ironside who was at that time Chief of the Imperial General Staff. Ironside wanted him to go to Malta. In what capacity, wondered Dobbie. “As Governor and Commander-in-Chief” came the reply. Astonished, but in possession of a fine military training, Dobbie simply answered: “May I ring my wife?”. A dozen days later Dobbie and his wife were in Malta, and so began the long defence which resulted in the island being awarded the George Cross.

William Dobbie was a staunch Christian, and would often surprise dinner guests by calling them to prayer at the end of meals. In Parliament, Churchill once said of him: “That remarkable man, General Dobbie — a Cromwellian figure at a key point, fighting with his Bible in one hand and his sword in the other.”

What it is to be called to duty! Such is the lot of all Christians. You have been called to a task, and to a way of life. God calls you by name, and says follow. Writes Watson:

It is one of the saddest sights—to see a man lift up his hands in prayer, and with those hands oppress; to hear the same tongue praise God at one time, and at another lie and slander; to hear a man in words profess God, and in works deny Him. Oh how unworthy is this! Yours is a holy calling, and will you be unholy? Do not think you may take liberty as others do. The Nazarite had a vow on him, separated himself to God, and promised abstinence; though others did drink wine, it was not fit for the Nazarite to do it. So, though others are loose and vain, it is not fit for those who are set apart for God by effectual calling. Are not flowers sweeter than weeds? You must be now "a peculiar people" (1 Pet. 2:9); not only peculiar in regard of dignity—but deportment. Abhor all motions of sin, because it would disparage your high calling.

He went away from there and came to his hometown, and his disciples followed him. And on the Sabbath he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astonished, saying, “Where did this man get these things? What is the wisdom given to him? How are such mighty works done by his hands? Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon? And are not his sisters here with us?” And they took offence at him. And Jesus said to them, “A prophet is not without honour, except in his hometown and among his relatives and in his own household.” And he could do no mighty work there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and healed them. And he marvelled because of their unbelief.

And he went about among the villages teaching.

And he called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits. He charged them to take nothing for their journey except a staff—no bread, no bag, no money in their belts— but to wear sandals and not put on two tunics. And he said to them, “Whenever you enter a house, stay there until you depart from there. And if any place will not receive you and they will not listen to you, when you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.” So they went out and proclaimed that people should repent. And they cast out many demons and anointed with oil many who were sick and healed them.” (Mark 6:1–13)

You can imagine the scene. Jesus is going back home, and with him are his disciples. He is by now a well known figure, someone whose teaching has been attracting attention and whose miracles have given pause for thought. Once just the carpenter, Jesus is now known in his own right as a religious leader. Perhaps that’s why he was invited to teach in the synagogue on that Sabbath. Some sort of homecoming celebration.

As he stood and talked, and the others sat and listened, astonishment begins to grow. “Where did this man get these things” they wonder. What is this teaching? How on earth can he do all these things? Rather than a great homecoming, the mood turns sour with mutterings. He’s just a carpenter’s son! What an upstart! We know his family - look, his sisters are over there!

And they took offence at him. Took offence at this one who they had watched grow up. Such was their mistrust that Jesus “could do no mighty work there”. In fact he “marvelled because of their unbelief”.

What went wrong? Well, something that can go wrong with us too. They could not look past the human face of Jesus. They simply knew him too well.

You can see how this happened. They had grown up with him, and they knew the rest of his family. They knew his mother, his brother and his sister. Maybe all this business with Gabriel and the virgin birth had left behind hints of illegitimacy. After all, they make no mention of Joseph. This is, they thought, Jesus the carpenter. Someone like us. Surely God would not call and bless someone like that. He’s just a normal person.

Oh, how we limit God to some sort of divine realm. God is safely up there above the clouds, and we are down here. And never the twain shall meet. We don’t look for God in the every day, and assume he’s absent from the mundane. He’s at a safe distance, and we might visit him on the odd Sunday morning.

Those who lived in Nazareth knew Jesus so well that the old saying had been proved: familiarity breeds contempt. Had he been a visiting white-suited preacher, all straight teeth and perfect hair, they probably would have followed him. But Jesus? Ah, we know him too well.

This is still too often the case. The stories of Christ are too well known, and have lost their power to shock. The Gospels become a sort ancient Brothers Grimm, and Jesus becomes an younger version of Santa. A ‘folk-Jesus’ emerges, all smiles and affirmation. The Jesus who spoke of “wailing and gnashing of teeth” in hell, is replaced with a Jesus who says do whatever you want. Someone so bland you wonder why they crucified him in the first place! Like an inoculation, you get just enough Jesus to make sure you don’t catch Christianity!

If I was the proud possessor of a thick head of hair, I’d be tempted to pull it out at so much that is written about Jesus. It simply does not bear relation to the figure we see in the gospels, or the one worshipped throughout the vast bulk of the church’s history.

So what do we do about this all? Let Jesus be Jesus.

The great challenge to those of us who were were brought up in the church is to try and meet Jesus afresh. To forget all that we know (or think we know) and read the Gospel as if for the first time. It only takes about an hour to read Mark’s Gospel. If you were to read it through in a sitting, you’d find your understanding of Jesus revolutionised.

And then remember that Jesus is more than simply a miracle worker, and a great teacher. He is God. The eternal second person of the Trinity. Allow familiar stories to challenge you afresh, and read his words remembering that they carry the authority of the God.

To put it simply, ask yourself this question: who is Jesus to you? Is he someone you’ve created in your own image, a better version of yourself at your best. Have you stripped him of his glory, of his divinity, and made him simply a good teacher? Have you created an imaginary Messiah, or allowed Jesus to speak for himself?

These questions lie at the core of Christianity. Faith in Christ, needs to be faith in Christ as he presents himself. It is faith in a Christ both human and divine, a faith in a Christ who calls you to follow him.

Don’t settle for anything less. Turn to your Bibles again and meet the real Jesus.

But when he came to himself, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have more than enough bread, but I perish here with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.”’ (Luke 15:17-19).

This passage comes from the parable of the prodigal son. At this stage the son has demanded his inheritance from his father, and the squandered it all on high living. He realises what a mess he is in and decides to return to his father, offering to work as a hired servant. When we read on we find out the father is overjoyed, running out to meet his son. No work as a hired hand! Welcome home my beloved son!

The interesting phrase here is: “he came to himself”. I am sure we all have friends and family who are not Christian, and maybe they have been dismissive of any conversation about the faith for many years. This doesn’t mean you’ve reached the end of the matter: you can still pray. Pray that the person will “come to himself”. The prodigal was not with anyone when this took place, he was simply by himself.

There are lots of initiatives in the church to do with outreach. Barely a year goes by without a new strategy, or a new idea. Try this! Do that! Join these! In the end, though, conversion is a matter for God and so the most successful strategy is also the oldest: pray. Although there is a popular cliche of a person becoming a Christian after someone makes a compelling argument, the truth is that many if not most come to faith in a much more low key manner. For me, it was in a room by myself in a student house. That was when I came to myself.

So do pray. I finish once more with characteristic words from the Puritan Thomas Watson:

They tread every day on the brink of the bottomless pit! What if death should cast them in! O pity unconverted sinners. If you pity an ox or an donkey going astray, will you not pity a soul going astray from God, who has lost his way and his wits, and is upon the precipice of damnation! … Will you not pray for them, when you see them in such danger?

I will extol you, my God and King, and bless your name forever and ever. Every day I will bless you and praise your name forever and ever. (Psalm 152:1-2)

I have spent some time in recent weeks dwelling on the vastness of God. Personally, I think that one of the great needs of today’s church is to recapture an understanding of how great God is. Not only great in the sense of good, but also great as in vast, eternal, all powerful, all knowing, just, holy and so on. At times I worry our ideas of God are just too small!

The wonderful thing is that the more you realise the holy vastness of God, the smaller you feel. The smaller you feel, the more you realise how gracious God is in dealing with you. How marvellous it is to be able to rely upon an entirely dependable God! Oh the joy of receiving the grace of God.

Back when I started these emails, at the first lockdown, I made quite a lot of use of “All Things for Good” by the Puritan Thomas Watson. As we come nearer to the end of this lockdown I thought I’d return to him once more, and so for the next few emails I’ll end with an extract of his honey-dipped words:

Admire and adore God's free grace in calling you—that God should pass over so many, that He should pass by the wise and noble, and that the lot of free grace should fall upon you! That He should take you out of a state of vassalage, from grinding the devil's mill, and should set you above the princes of the earth, and call you to inherit the throne of glory! Fall upon your knees, break forth into a thankful triumph of praise! Let your hearts be ten stringed instruments, to sound forth the memorial of God's saving mercy. There are none so deep in debt to free grace—as you are; and none should be so high mounted upon the pinnacle of thanksgiving. Say as the sweet singer; "I will extol you, O God my King, every day will I bless you, and I will praise your name forever!" (Psalm 145:1, 2). Those who are monuments of mercy—should be trumpets of praise! O long to be in heaven, where your thanksgivings shall be purer and shall be raised a note higher!

So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 12:7-10).

If you are thinking of great Christians, men and women who achieved great things for God, surely the Apostle Paul would appear somewhere towards the top of the list. The man wrote great chunks of the New Testament, and travelled throughout the Mediterranean, all for the purpose of spreading the gospel of Christ crucified. Yet for all this, he suffered from this “thorn in the flesh” which “kept me from being conceited”.

Unsurprisingly people have come up with all sorts of suggestions as to quite what this “thorn” was. To be honest it doesn’t matter, and if it did I am sure Paul would have told us. The point is this, at times God uses “thorns” for our own benefit. In Paul’s case, that benefit was keeping him from being conceited.

I really do hope this might be something of an encouragement. At times God uses our afflictions to draw us to him. At other times, we struggle with something or other which reminds us that we are not as perfect we as think. And then we fall upon God’s grace. Afflictions are, as in the case with the Apostle Paul, a means to a greater glory.

The old Puritan writer Thomas Watson (1620 – 1686) puts it nicely:

“As ploughing prepares the earth for a crop, so afflictions prepare and make us meet for glory. The painter lays his gold upon dark colours—so God first lays the dark colours of affliction, and then He lays the golden colour of glory. The vessel is first seasoned before wine is poured into it: the vessels of mercy are first seasoned with affliction, and then the wine of glory is poured in.”

Let no one say when he is tempted, “I am being tempted by God,” for God cannot be tempted with evil, and he himself tempts no one. But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death… Do not be deceived, my beloved brothers. Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. (James 1:13-17)

For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride of life—is not from the Father but is from the world. (1 John 2:16)

These things you have done, and I have been silent; you thought that I was one like yourself. But now I rebuke you and lay the charge before you. (Psalm 50:21)

Over the past few emails we’ve been looking at the relationship between our will and God’s will. We’ve seen how God can use the evil desires of some to bring about his will, and how even seemingly random events serve God’s purposes. His will is simply deeper than ours, but that doesn’t excuse our actions. We weren’t simply following orders.

The Apostle James is insistent that God is not the author of sin - he tempts no-one. The fact that he can use evil as a means to bring about good does not excuse the evil, judgment still falls onto one who does wrong. The Apostle John makes a similar point, and wants to ensure we recognise the distinction between things which come from God and things which come from “the world”.

The final quote, from Psalm 50, is a telling one. All too often silence is taken for assent, and that applies to the spiritual world too. People - maybe even we - seem to get away with things, and there are no consequences. Worse, at times we think that God must think as we do and share our own morality. After all, isn’t God simply a better version of us at our best? There are many reasons for God’s silence, some of which we will look at in a further email, but the psalmist understands that justice will be done in the end.

We do bear the consequences for our own actions, but God has also extended to us the offer of forgiveness. Rather than thinking we are good enough, better to see that Christ is entirely good and allow him to bear our sins for us. The cross is, after all, a sign of grace and mercy.

Against a godless nation I send [Assyria], and against the people of my wrath I command him, to take spoil and seize plunder, and to tread them down like the mire of the streets. But he does not so intend, and his heart does not so think; but it is in his heart to destroy, and to cut off nations not a few … When the Lord has finished all his work on Mount Zion and on Jerusalem, he will punish the speech of the arrogant heart of the king of Assyria and the boastful look in his eyes. (Isaiah 10:6-7, 12)

That passage from Isaiah is notable most straightforward one, so perhaps we might pay it some attention for a short while. By this stage in the history of Israel, the kingdom has been split in two: ten tribes in the north; and two in the south. The northern kingdom soon descended into the worship of the gods of Canaan who had been worshipped in those lands in the past. It was not a happy story.

Throughout the Old Testament there is a strong relationship between the keeping of the Law given through Moses and the settlement of the Promised Land. Just before his death, Moses warned the people that if they turn to other gods, then they will lose the land. The only way to maintain life in the land is to obey the commandments of God, so Moses urges the people:

“Therefore choose life, that you and your offspring may live, loving the LORD your God, obeying his voice and holding fast to him, for he is your life and length of days, that you may dwell in the land that the LORD swore to your fathers, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, to give them.” (Deuteronomy 30:18)

But they didn’t, and so the land was to be taken from the northern ten tribes. How? By means of the marauding warriors of the Assyrian empire. The strategy of this superpower was to conquer a nation, and then resettle the population elsewhere in their empire. And that is what happened to the northern kingdom. The Assyrians did not think they were doing God’s will - “he does not so intend” - but that was in fact what was happening.

The Assyrians were the means being used, and they were acting according to their own desires: “it is in his heart to destroy, and to cut off nations”. This means that they bear the guilt of their actions, and so they will face punishment. Justice is done, both to the Assyrians and also to the northern tribes. Deep stuff, but as the old hymn has it: “God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform”.

“this Jesus, delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God, you crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men.” (Acts 2:23)

“for truly in this city there were gathered together against your holy servant Jesus, whom you anointed, both Herod and Pontius Pilate, along with the Gentiles and the peoples of Israel, to do whatever your hand and your plan had predestined to take place.” (Acts 4:27–28)

Let’s be honest, bad things happen. We don’t live in a perfect world, and people themselves are not perfect. Whilst we might like to be good as possible we often let ourselves down, and then there are people who are simply out to do wrong. When evil occurs, does that mean God is out of control?

It’s easy to think so. It’s easy to think that somehow there is a glitch in God’s power which means that his will can be thwarted, and his desires overridden. When evil occurs, should we then assume that God is absent? Or powerless?

Frankly, that is a terrifying thought. To be in a world where God can be absent at times, is to live in a world where we cannot be sure of the triumph of good. If God can be thwarted, then what sort of God is he? Not one in whom we can confidently trust at all times.

As the two passages above demonstrate, the evil which brought about the torture and execution of Jesus - surely killing the Son of God is the most heinous of acts - was in fact part of the “definite plan and foreknowledge of God”. It was not a random act, but intended to to bring about the resurrection, which is the greatest good. It doesn’t excuse the actions of those who do evil, but it does mean that the end result is within the purpose of God.

Right at the end of Genesis Joseph is speaking with his brothers, those brothers who threw him into a pit and then sold him into slavery. The brothers were fearful that Joseph would take revenge, but he assured them: “as for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good” (Genesis 50:20). Never think God is absent in the face of evil. He is not.

“And when Jesus had crossed again in the boat to the other side, a great crowd gathered about him, and he was beside the sea. Then came one of the rulers of the synagogue, Jairus by name, and seeing him, he fell at his feet and implored him earnestly, saying, “My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well and live.” And he went with him.

And a great crowd followed him and thronged about him. And there was a woman who had had a discharge of blood for twelve years, and who had suffered much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and was no better but rather grew worse. She had heard the reports about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his garment. For she said, “If I touch even his garments, I will be made well.” And immediately the flow of blood dried up, and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. And Jesus, perceiving in himself that power had gone out from him, immediately turned about in the crowd and said, “Who touched my garments?” And his disciples said to him, “You see the crowd pressing around you, and yet you say, ‘Who touched me?’ ” And he looked around to see who had done it. But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling and fell down before him and told him the whole truth. And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”

While he was still speaking, there came from the ruler’s house some who said, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the Teacher any further?” But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the ruler of the synagogue, “Do not fear, only believe.” And he allowed no one to follow him except Peter and James and John the brother of James. They came to the house of the ruler of the synagogue, and Jesus saw a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly. And when he had entered, he said to them, “Why are you making a commotion and weeping? The child is not dead but sleeping.” And they laughed at him. But he put them all outside and took the child’s father and mother and those who were with him and went in where the child was. Taking her by the hand he said to her, “Talitha cumi,” which means, “Little girl, I say to you, arise.” And immediately the girl got up and began walking (for she was twelve years of age), and they were immediately overcome with amazement. And he strictly charged them that no one should know this, and told them to give her something to eat.” (Mark 5:21–43)

As we come to this passage, we come to the close of a series of passages in Mark’s gospel which serve to make the point that Jesus is God. We’ve had the parable of the sower and learnt that even though the seed is good and fertile, the ground might be lacking. The best seed can fall on a path and come to nothing. Christ may preach, but some are simply not receptive. All this sets us up for the preaching which Christ continues to do, and the various responses he receives.

There is the incident of the storm-tossed boat, where the disciples are fearful for their very lives while Jesus sleeps comfortably on a cushion. He had said they would go to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, and so they would. He was unconcerned, and slept on until shaken awake. And then - with a word - he stilled the storm. “Who is this?” the disciples wondered.

Then there was the business with Legion, the much possessed man living in the country of the Gerasenes who was brought to his senses and Jesus cast out the demons. Jesus has shown mastery over nature, and now over evil too. In the present passage we find yet more mastery: over sickness, and even death.

There is more in today’s passage, though. In it we also find an answer to that most vital of questions: “how do you relate to God?”. Make no mistake, this is the most important question which one might ask. The question of how to approach the Almighty God, is one which lies at the heart of Christianity. Here we find two people who exemplify the right approach.

On the surface these two could not be further apart. One is a synagogue ruler, no doubt well regarded. The other is a woman who has spent all her money on medical fees. One is esteemed in society, the other suffers from a discharge which renders her unclean. One boldly comes to Jesus, the other simply reaches out her hand. Both, though, have their petition answered.

So what is it that Mark is telling us, as these two stories occur side by side? That God is a person.

Now I need to explain myself here. What I am getting at is that God is someone with whom we can relate. He is not an impersonal force, or a concept of “good”. He’s not simply a benign influence, sort of up there and everywhere. Not some dispenser of karma, or a force to be channeled as if we were living on the set of Star Wars.

No, in the person of Christ we see God. These two came to Christ and reached out for mercy. They didn’t try to channel power ,or earn favour. They simply came to Jesus, took a risk and threw themselves on his mercy. They trusted him and had faith in him. And Jesus bolstered both of them, encouraging that faith. Their circumstances did not matter, or their timing. Their boldness was not at issue. It was simply faith.

The fact is that God does exist and the way in which we engage with him is a question of eternal importance. Do you rely on your family, an inherited religion or a vague sense of God? Or do you rely on the God revealed to us in the person of Jesus? Do you think of God as a force, or in personal terms? Are you willing to meekly reach out and place your trust in him?

Here in this passage we find two starkly contrasting people, but the same result. They both reached out. Will you?

“He did not weaken in faith when he considered his own body, which was as good as dead (since he was about a hundred years old), or when he considered the barrenness of Sarah’s womb. No unbelief made him waver concerning the promise of God, but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God,” (Romans 4:19–20)

The Apostle Paul is here speaking of Abraham, the great patriarch who stands at the head of the Jewish people, the one from whom they all descend. He was a man who was marked by his faith in God, as we read in Genesis: “And he believed the LORD, and he counted it to him as righteousness” (Genesis 15:6). This model of trust in God is one which lies at the heart of the gospel itself.

The faith of Abraham is two-fold. First of all he believes that God keeps his word. In this instance that word was that Abraham would have a son through whom a great nation would come. That is a great claim in itself, but Abraham’s faith also contained a second element: this would all happen given his great age, and the fact that Sarah his wife was barren.

In other words, Abraham’s faith was that God can act above nature if he pleases.

We are all too aware of our limitations, and not only because of the onward march of the years. In Abraham we find an example of God taking someone and making them able to do something they thought was impossible. Moses, who pleaded with God: “Oh, my Lord, please send someone else” (Exodus 4:13). Becomes the great leader of the Israelites. Paul, the great persecutor of the church, becomes its greatest missionary.

The history of the Church is scattered with unpromising people who were mightily used by God. God is able to act above nature, and that is something which gives great hope. You may feel a small Christian, but you have a great God. And that is plenty.

“But I will have mercy on the house of Judah, and I will save them by the LORD their God. I will not save them by bow or by sword or by war or by horses or by horsemen.” (Hosea 1:7)

Over the past few days we’ve been considering the way in which God acts through his creation, humans included. We’ve seen that God acts in what we might term the ordinary, as well as the extraordinary. I need to be careful, though, not to imply that God only works through ordinary means. To be Creator implies not only a mastery over creation so that it can be used to bring about whatever God wishes, but also the right to act in a way which takes priority over the created order.

We see this happening at times the Scriptures. Not everyday to be sure, but enough that we should take notice. So it is that in the passage above, God assured the people of Judah that he will save them. On hearing this they would have assumed some battle or other against their enemies which resulted in a great victory. Not so. The passage goes on to say that God himself will save them. He will not in this instance be using horses or horsemen, but rather he will act directly.

In all of this it is important to remain balanced in your view of how God acts. On the one hand if you simply limit God’s activities to what might be termed the “supernatural” you miss so much of how he acts day to day. There is an old joke to do with a shipwrecked sailor on a desert island. He prays to God for help, and is confident that God will do just that. A passing ship offers help, but the the sailor refuses: “It’s OK - I’m praying. God will save me”. A rope is dropped down from a helicopter, and is similarly refused. Inevitably the sailor starves and, now in heaven, turns on God: “why didn’t you save me”. To which God replies: “I sent you a rescue ship and a helicopter. What more did you want?”.

On the other hand to deny that God can bring about extraordinary events is to deny that God is all powerful. Christ is born of a virgin, and is raised from the dead. The message of this once-executed messiah spreads around the world like wildfire. The hearts of many who reject God are turned to him.

Balance is needed here. Don’t limit God to one particular way of working.

“And as the sailors were seeking to escape from the ship, and had lowered the ship’s boat into the sea under pretence of laying out anchors from the bow, Paul said to the centurion and the soldiers, “Unless these men stay in the ship, you cannot be saved.”” (Acts 27:30–31)

“He ordered those who could swim to jump overboard first and make for the land, and the rest on planks or on pieces of the ship. And so it was that all were brought safely to land.” (Acts 27:43–44)

Towards the end of the Acts of the Apostles, Paul is in a boat which is heading for Rome when a storm hits. The sailors were fearful that they would be run aground, and they began to jettison the cargo. When there was no more cargo to be ditched, the ship’s tackle went into the deep.

Without food and battered by the storm, despair clung to the crew. Paul, though, did not share their gloom. As he told them: “this very night there stood before me an angel of the God to whom I belong and whom I worship, and he said, ‘Do not be afraid, Paul; you must stand before Caesar. And behold, God has granted you all those who sail with you.’ So take heart, men, for I have faith in God that it will be exactly as I have been told. But we must run aground on some island.” (Acts 27:23–26)

So it is that the boat drifted along, and when they got near to land some of the sailers tried to escape on the ship’s boat. Pretending to be dropping anchor, they started to lower the boat but Paul objected: “unless these men stay in the ship, you cannot be saved” (v31).

In the end, the boat was shipwrecked as they attempted to run it ashore on some land. The centurion then urged everyone to jump overboard and either swim for it, or float to shore on the wreckage bobbing around next to the boat. “And so it was that all were brought safely to land (v44).

All this is an example of the fact that God uses means to bring about his purposes. It was a sure thing that the crew would be saved, as the angel had foretold. Yet in order for this to come about, the crew also had to stay on board. The end was sure (safety), but the means (stay on board) had to be followed.

To have a belief in a God who is sovereign over all should not imply we simply have to sit back and do nothing. Yes God decrees the end of things, but he also decrees the means by which this end will come about. Yes, we are secure in God’s hands but we also have to follow the commands he gives.

“While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not cease.” (Genesis 8:22)

“Thus says the LORD, who gives the sun for light by day and the fixed order of the moon and the stars for light by night, who stirs up the sea so that its waves roar— the LORD of hosts is his name:” (Jeremiah 31:35)

And Micaiah said, “If you return in peace, the LORD has not spoken by me.” … But a certain man drew his bow at random and struck the king of Israel between the scale armour and the breastplate. (1 Kings 22:28, 34)

“Against a godless nation I send him, and against the people of my wrath I command him, to take spoil and seize plunder, and to tread them down like the mire of the streets. But he does not so intend, and his heart does not so think; but it is in his heart to destroy, and to cut off nations not a few;” (Isaiah 10:6–7)

Old insurance policies used to mention “Acts of God”, by which they meant unusual and unforeseen events such as earthquakes, lightning strikes or volcano eruptions. The sorts of things which make the pages of newspapers, and draw a crowd. The problem with this language, though, is it relegates God to the realm of the spectacular. It assumes that God can only act in ways which overwhelm and draw attention.

The most common acts of God, however, are those which we often fail to notice. The passing of the seasons, and the never-failing sunrise and sunset. Oh, you might say, these are natural events. True, but who set them in motion? Who upholds the created order?

There are also those events in which human activity brings about God’s purposes. Take the above passage from 1 Kings, for example. Micaiah the prophet had prophesied that the king would not return from the battle field. “If you return in peace, the LORD has not spoken by me” he claimed. We read on a few verses, and king Ahab is on the battle field. There then follows a seemingly random turn of events: “a certain man drew his bow at random and struck the king of Israel between the scale armour and the breastplate”. Fluke! You might cry. Yes, but also the will of God. He might bring things about through secondary causes, but this is still an act of God.

We might see the same principle at work in the quote from Isaiah. Here the Assyrian king is being spoken of, one who does not even recognise the God of the Israelites. This pagan king will be used to punish Israel, “but he does not so intend, and his heart does not so think”. He might not think he is furthering the purposes of God, yet his actions are both prophesied and used by God. God causes the punishment (he is the primary cause), but the king of Assyria is the instrument which is used. The secondary cause.

All of this goes to show that we should widen our understanding what is an Act of God. Think not like an insurer! See God active in all that is around you.

“this Jesus, delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God, you crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men. God raised him up, loosing the pangs of death, because it was not possible for him to be held by it.” (Acts 2:23–24)

This is an interesting verse, tucked away in Peter’s sermon at Pentecost. Here he is speaking on the crucifixion, and he neatly identifies two causes. On the one hand Jesus was crucified by the Roman soldiers: it was they who wielded the hammer and nails. Yet ask them about the events, and they would tell you they were simply following the orders of the the fifth Prefect of Judaea, one Pontius Pilate. It was he who really killed Christ.

Toddle off to the palace compound used by Pilate when he was in town, and he would have shrugged his shoulders. Yes, he might have issued the order but he was under intense pressure from the Jewish leaders. He tried to pardon Christ, but the crowd called for Barabbas instead. No, he would say, it was the Jewish leaders who really killed Jesus. He was just yielding to their demands.

Turn to the Apostle Peter and he would agree - in a way. He accuses his hearers in Jerusalem of killing Jesus, “by the hands of lawless men”. They are culpable for the act, but there is a deeper truth at play as well since “this Jesus” was “delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God”. Whilst the Jews were a cause of Jesus death, God himself is the first cause. It was his “definite plan” that Christ should die, and the Jews (and Romans) were the means by which that plan came to pass.

In these couple of verses, then, we see something of the way in which God brings his will into being. He determines something will come to pass, and humans bring it about. They are acting in accordance with their will, but God’s will is deeper. They may even seek to defy God, but that might simply be a means to an end.

Deep stuff, but it is important to recognise that both human and divine wills are at play. And that in the end the divine works on a deeper level.

On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, “Let us go across to the other side.” And leaving the crowd, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. And other boats were with him. And a great windstorm arose, and the waves were breaking into the boat, so that the boat was already filling. But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion. And they woke him and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” And he awoke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. He said to them, “Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?” And they were filled with great fear and said to one another, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” (Mark 4:35–41)

You can picture the scene, can’t you. The storm whipping up in the hills around the Sea of Galilee and then descending on the water. The white tops of the waves fly around the surface of the water, and bash against the side of the boat. Water is flying about, and as the waves crash onto the boat they also crash in. Panic rises with the water, and no doubt efforts to bail out the boat take hold.

These, you see, are experienced sailors. They know the danger of the Galilee storms, and the grave that is the watery deep. No doubt they knew fishing families who mourned men who never returned, and any other boat around them would be in a similar fix. No radio to call a coastguard. Here is simply a crew versus the elements. You know the feeling: all is going wrong, all is hopeless.

And I guess the recriminations begin to rise in the minds of those disciples. Why did Jesus want to go to the other side? Why didn’t they wait, why didn’t they try and work out what the weather would be. Here is real fear, looking death full in the face. Beneath them lay up to one hundred and forty feet of water, and they know what that means.

So why on earth, when they shook him awake, did Jesus tell them off?

Now, you’ve got to feel for the disciples here. They are in real danger, and they know it. Jesus told them to set off across the sea, to make the eight mile journey to the other side, and there he is asleep on a cushion! A cushion! In this storm! Dozing!

Oh, have you found yourself in a situation like this? What do you do when God seems to be asleep, absent from you? What do you do when you pray, but no-one seems to be listening. Things are getting worse, and your prayers don’t seem to be heard. Wouldn’t you want to take God by the shoulders and shake him? Wouldn’t you want to go to Jesus asleep on the cushion and wake him up?

So why did Jesus respond like he did: “Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?”. Surely being fearful in a storm is the sane response!

Well the clue is in his question: “Have you still no faith?”. You see, at the heart of the issue was their faith in Jesus. He had said that they should go to the other side, and to the other side they would go. Storms may break, and the going get tough, but they would get there. More than that, he himself was with them and - as we saw - could still the storm with a word. He was not concerned, as the cushion bore witness. If God is with you, even if you are being buffeted by the storms of life, you have nothing to fear.

And God is always with you. He is in all places.

In the end faith is the key to living a life which is free from fear, even when circumstances are grim. Your fear may say you will drown, but your faith reminds you of the God “who stills the roaring of the seas, the roaring of their waves” (Psalm 65:7). Fear says God is doing nothing, but faith says: “wait, be patient”. Fear says you’ve been abandoned, faith says God is present.

Faith is belief put into action, it is active where belief can be passive. Faith is trusting that when Jesus says “let’s go across to the other side” you will arrive.

As the waves stilled, and gently lapped against the boat fear did not leave the disciples. Mark tells us that “they were filled with great fear and said to one another, ‘Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?’”. When confronted with one who could still the storm with a word, their response was the sort of wondering, awe-filled reverence which is summed up as the “fear of the Lord”. My goodness, if Jesus can do this then… Rather than fear the storms, they had a glimpse of who Christ is and what he could do. Like the description of God in Psalm 65, he stilled the roaring of the sea.

I wonder if they asked themselves: “could he be…”?

Oh Christian you will encounter storms in life, times when life seems to be sinking and hope fades in the darkness. This is when your faith counts, this is when belief has to be put into practice. In all places and at all times remember that Jesus has said to you: “I am with you always” and so he will be. Pray with confidence, and trust in the one who keeps his promises. You may think God is sleeping, but maybe something greater is in mind.

“Like livestock that go down into the valley, the Spirit of the LORD gave them rest. So you led your people, to make for yourself a glorious name.” (Isaiah 63:14)

“… so that through the church the manifold wisdom of God might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places.” (Ephesians 3:10)

“For the Scripture says to Pharaoh, “For this very purpose I have raised you up, that I might show my power in you, and that my name might be proclaimed in all the earth.”” (Romans 9:17)

“They shall pour forth the fame of your abundant goodness and shall sing aloud of your righteousness.” (Psalm 145:7)

I must admit I get uncomfortable with people who seek glory. In my mind they run perilously close to being show-offs, or what when I was growing up were known as “nuisances”. The whole “look at me, aren’t I great” culture grates, and one only has to look back to those who were truly great to put the whole thing into perspective. I guess it was my upbringing, but I have always thought that glory should be something other people give you. Not something you try and grab for yourself.

As a result of this, the idea of God doing something to bring himself glory did not sit easy. Why would God do that? Why would God seek to give himself a glorious name? Why would God harden Pharaoh’s heart to bring about the Exodus.

Of course God gains nothing from being glorified, but it does nonetheless serve a purpose. The Exodus grabbed the attention, and was a foundation of the Jewish understanding of both God and themselves. To give God glory is to understand that he is full of a weighty holiness. To give him his due. It is also to recognise God for his goodness, wisdom and power.

When God seeks a glorious name, it is not as if he doesn’t already possess it. Rather, he wants us to recognise his glory so that we might rely upon it. It is rather like the certificates which are hung on the wall of a doctor’s surgery. It gives confidence to the patient, and is not just the doctor showing off. It says, you can trust me.

So it is that God’s acts for his own glory. It shows his dependability.

“In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will…” (Ephesians 1:11)

“The LORD brings the counsel of the nations to nothing; he frustrates the plans of the peoples. The counsel of the LORD stands forever, the plans of his heart to all generations.” (Psalm 33:10–11)

I am rather fond of books, but I am fonder of the authors. When I turn to some tome or other I am usually in need of some wisdom from someone who is trustworthy. The shelves which stand sentry around my study are lined with a great cloud of witnesses, a treasury of the wise throughout the ages. Rather than assuming that the modern day is the absolute highpoint of theology (it isn’t), great riches are to be found in long dead authors who spent lives in contemplation of the living God. Since God is eternal, those who write about him are of ongoing relevance.

There is a danger in not seeking the wisdom of others, as the book of Proverbs is quick to point out: “Without counsel plans fail, but with many advisers they succeed” (Proverbs 15:22). Going it alone in the spiritual realm is a hazardous path, and if you are not careful you find that it is not so much God you believe in. It is yourself.

For God, though, the story is rather different. Who might offer him counsel? Who would presume to take God to one side and offer a gentle piece of advice? He acts on his own advice, and gives his own counsel. He does not rely on others when he acts, nor is his course swerved by events. Rather God acts as he wills.

This gives us a God who is reliable and trustworthy, not swayed by first one adviser and then another. God acts according to his own nature, and is dependable. A solid rock on which to stand.

After they finished speaking, James replied, “Brothers, listen to me. Simeon has related how God first visited the Gentiles, to take from them a people for his name. And with this the words of the prophets agree, just as it is written, ‘After this I will return, and I will rebuild the tent of David that has fallen; I will rebuild its ruins, and I will restore it, that the remnant of mankind may seek the Lord, and all the Gentiles who are called by my name, says the Lord, who makes these things known from of old.’” (Acts 15:13–18)

The problem of living in the great succession of time - minute passing on into minute, hour to hour - is that the future can take you by surprise. The past can give you clues as to what might happen in the time to come, but even then things unforeseen take place. It often seems that experts simply make mistakes with greater confidence, and who would dare say what the weather will be like in a month’s time. Or next week?

One of the extraordinary aspects of the Bible is the great arc of prophecies which find their fulfilment in Christ, events which relied on the actions of so many others. There in the Old Testament are prophecies that the Messiah would be born in Bethlehem and would be able to trace his lineage back to King David. All this relies on the actions of others well in advance of Jesus’s birth, and yet things were so ordered.

Isaiah speaks of the Messiah being whipped (Isaiah 50) and being killed between thieves (Isaiah 53:12). The same prophet also speaks of the Messiah being buried in the grave of a rich man. All these prophecies rely on the actions of others: they could not be manufactured by a man pretending to be some Messiah. Or a man with a Messiah complex.

From his vantage point in eternity God knows all things, and is not trapped as we are in the narrow tunnel of time. To trust in God is not to place your hopes in one who will be surprised by a turn of events. It is to trust in one who already knows. It is to trust in one who writes his great plan of redemption on the fabric of time, and who brings to fruition plans laid centuries before.

“The eyes of the LORD are in every place, keeping watch on the evil and the good.” (Proverbs 15:3)

“O LORD, how manifold are your works! In wisdom have you made them all; the earth is full of your creatures.” (Psalm 104:24)

“The LORD is righteous in all his ways and kind in all his works.” (Psalm 145:17)

The Twentieth Century was one which saw its fair share of dictatorial regimes, and between two World Wars and a Cold War there has been a growing mistrust of power. On an April Tuesday morning in Cannes, Lord Acton once picked up his pen and wrote to Professor Mandell Creighton of Cambridge (later bishop of Peterborough and then London). The good Baron objected to the Professor’s rather rosy view of the past. Famously Acton gave the opinion that: “Power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men…”.

The letter was sent in 1887 but many, casting an eye over the 1900s, might sagely nod and agree with the sentiment.

This gives us a problem when speaking of God. Surely there can be no more absolute power than that wielded by God. Does that mean that God should be more feared than trusted with this dominion? There are those who simply dismiss God as some sort of transcendental dictator, declaring that they can’t believe in such a figure.

The problem is, whether you believe in God or not doesn’t alter the fact of his existence. I might not believe in the existence of Archdeacons, yet still they appear. The great comfort in all this is that the God who exists is a God who both wise and holy, all knowing and all good. In fact Psalm 145 gives a most marvellous description of God - “kind” - and Luke’s Gospel repeatedly tells us that Jesus had “compassion” for those around him. Power may corrupt imperfect human beings, but fortunately for us God is not a bigger version of a human. He is good. His is not corruptible.

“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows. So everyone who acknowledges me before men, I also will acknowledge before my Father who is in heaven, but whoever denies me before men, I also will deny before my Father who is in heaven.” (Matthew 10:29–33)

How easy it is to feel small and overlooked, especially in a world which is preoccupied with celebrity and the number of followers you can rustle up on social media. One of the unfortunate side effects of a more populous society is that it makes each individual member feel smaller. It is easy to be known in a village of two hundred people, but to live in a flat in the centre of a modern city is to be anonymous.

There is a great error in thinking that this state of affairs applies in the spiritual realm, as if a God is overwhelmed by the sheer number of people teeming on the surface of the planet. As if God only notices the important and the noisy. As if God’s loving oversight only extends to the major things. No, as Jesus insists in this passage not even a sparrows falls “to the ground apart from your father”. That small, brown bird - like all the other small brown birds - which pecks away on your driveway is known by God. How much more does God notice and care for you?! In fact, as Jesus asserts, God not only notices but knows all people, even down to the number of hairs on your head.

Never feel too unimportant to raise your voice to heaven, or think something is too trivial to bring before God. God may guide the affairs of the nations, but he also notices the individual. He is concerned with the greatest and the least.

At the end of the days I, Nebuchadnezzar, lifted my eyes to heaven, and my reason returned to me, and I blessed the Most High, and praised and honoured him who lives forever, for his dominion is an everlasting dominion, and his kingdom endures from generation to generation; all the inhabitants of the earth are accounted as nothing, and he does according to his will among the host of heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth; and none can stay his hand or say to him, “What have you done?” (Daniel 4:34–35)

“Whatever the LORD pleases, he does, in heaven and on earth, in the seas and all deeps.” (Psalm 135:6)

“The God who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in temples made by man, nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything.” (Acts 17:24)

Years ago I lost count of the clergy I had met who owned model railways. Scattered through the land are vicars, standing in garages or attics surrounded by track. Over the years the tracks develop, and I have seen little tiny vistas with hills dotted with minuscule sheep. Small waiting rooms are clustered with smaller passengers, and at the turn of a dial the whole thing springs into action. Trains whirr along the tracks and, in particularly advanced examples of the craft, little lights go on in buildings.

I’ve scratched my head about this. What is it about vicaring which gives rise to the urge to build train tracks? Is it to regain a sense of control? Do clergy feel trapped by PCCs and the cycle of the church year, rolling ever on? Is the train track an act of rebellious organisation?

It maybe any of these things, but there might be a more theological impulse. In the Scriptures we read of a God who is all mighty, and all powerful. A God who orders the affairs of nations, and does as he wills. A God who is not frustrated by the actions of any individual or people. Yet for all this, as we live out our lives in the midst of ‘stuff’ it is easy to feel dismayed by the way things are going. Lacking the divine perspective the world may seem out of control.

To build a train track is to attempt to gain a God’s-eye of the world once more. It reminds us that there is someone who, after all, is in control and who does as he wills. God needs no more from us, than the model railway builder needs from the little tiny model of a dog. To know God as almighty, is to regain a sense of things being under control.

And [Jesus] said, “The kingdom of God is as if a man should scatter seed on the ground. He sleeps and rises night and day, and the seed sprouts and grows; he knows not how. The earth produces by itself, first the blade, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear. But when the grain is ripe, at once he puts in the sickle, because the harvest has come.”

And he said, “With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable shall we use for it? It is like a grain of mustard seed, which, when sown on the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth, yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes larger than all the garden plants and puts out large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.” With many such parables he spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it. He did not speak to them without a parable, but privately to his own disciples he explained everything.” (Mark 4:26–34)

We live in an age of ‘how to’ books and television. Not sure how to change the oil in a 1968 Ford Cortina 1600E? A quick search on the internet will give you a video of a man with oil-blackened hands showing you what to unscrew, and where to pour. Want to make a Pineapple Upside Down Cake? Once again, tap away on the keyboard and up comes a recipe complete with a photo of what should come out of the oven an hour or so later.

This happens with the church too. Here are five steps to church growth, and eight top tips to increasing your reach. You need a new and improved service book, and a vicar with a rainbow guitar strap. Or perhaps snip off those bits of the faith which look a bit dated, and adopt whatever issue was current in the wider society six months ago.

In contrast to all this Jesus tells a parable about a farmer who scattered seed on the ground: “he sleeps and rises night and day, and the seed sprouts and grows; he knows not how. The earth produces by itself, first the blade, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear”.

Now, before local farmers throw up their arms in protest, knocking over their coffee onto a half-read copy of Farmer’s Weekly, I should say that I know that farming is more than simply sleeping and waiting for things to happen! The point of the parable, though, is that in the end you cannot give life to the seed. The yellow-flecked fields, brimming with buttercups, bears testimony to the truth that things just grow. The fluctuating markets also give their witness, demonstrating that it is hard - impossible? - to predict the crop. You get good years and bad years.

Jesus is suggesting that the Kingdom of God has its own life, and it simply grows. The life of God spreads, and vicars (being some sort of spiritual farmers) cannot fake the life or force it. The essentials have to take place, of course. The seed has to be planted - and the Christian must pray, worship and read the Bible - but growth is God’s business.

This, I hope, is a message of some comfort in a time and a place where Christianity is not strong, and the church looks small. The second of these two parables demands we do not despise the day of small things. Mustard seeds are small, but they grow into large plants. Today’s billion strong church began with a dozen disciples, and one of those betrayed Jesus.

Small beginnings are very much the stuff of the Kingdom of God and there is no such thing as a lost cause. When God took flesh and dwelt among us, he came as a baby. Hungry, crying and helpless. Now grown, Jesus began by calling four followers. At Pentecost the small band of believers were soon joined by three thousand more, and so the growth began.

The key in all of this is to retain confidence in God, and not try to help the old man out. Don’t think of him as some sort of out-of-date grandparent. Both grain and mustard plants have small beginnings, but they contain in their seed all that is needed. You may feel the church is small - you may feel that you are small as a Christian - but that is because you cannot see the end from the beginning.

In 1813 the Baptist missionary Adoniram Judson arrived in Burma, having been told it was a place impossible to evangelise. It took him three years to learn the language, and another year before he felt able to hold even a semi-public service. Given that a death sentence awaited any Burmese who changed religion, it was a challenging place! In 1817, he finished translating the Gospel of Matthew. The following year he began his efforts in evangelisation, sitting by a road and calling out “Ho! Everyone that thirsteth for knowledge”. The next year he baptised his first convert, and by 1822 there were eighteen Christians in the country. Soon after, he had finished translating the New Testament and had written a grammar of the Burmese language.

In 1850, Judson died having translated the entire Bible and written a large part of a Burmese-English dictionary. There were over eight-thousand believers and a hundred churches. Remarkably, there are more Baptists in Burma than any other country apart from the United States and India. His translation is still much read in the nation, and in the 1950s the then Prime Minister of Burma was not impressed with the suggestion that a new translation was needed: "Oh no, a new translation is not necessary. Judson's captures the language and idiom of Burmese perfectly and is very clear and understandable”.

In the end the key to church growth demonstrated by Judson and many others like him is a mixture of faithfulness and patience. It is a long obedience to Christ, and a deep trust in his timing. The history of the Church is one of ebbs and flows, but not one of being extinguished. Often periods of decline are prompts to long neglected prayer, as initiatives give way to a reliance of God (sometimes even born of frustration).

So Christian, fret not! We may be weak but God is strong. The Gospel is still good news, and the scriptures still have their power. Mustard plants need mustard seeds, and revivals in the fortune of the church need small starts. Maybe what we are experiencing now is just the beginning of that small start.

“He [Jesus] upholds the universe by the word of his power” (Hebrews 1:3).

We are very used to thinking of creation as a single event, something which happened at a single point of time. This is not the view of Bible. Rather than creation being a single, finished event it is understood as something which is ongoing. God creates the heavens and the earth, and he continues to sustain it. No idea of making something, setting it going and then leaving it alone. Rather the idea is that the God who is being continues to keep things in existence though the life which he gives.

In this passage, Christ is identified as the one who sustains the universe. There is a logic here: if creation was spoken into being with a “let there be...” (Genesis 1), and if Jesus is the Word of God (John 1), then it follows that Jesus is the one through whom everything came into being. As the Apostle Paul puts it: “For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible” (Colossians 1:16). More: in Acts 3:15, Jesus is referred to as the “Author of Life”.

Life not only came from God, but continues to come from God. This is the way in which Christ “upholds” the universe, and This act of upholding serves to underline our entire dependence upon God. We not only owe him our existence, but also our continuing existence. As life flows back into the countryside in Spring, it flows from God. As life ebbs from the body at death, it continues in eternity before God.

As for the rich in this present age, charge them not to be haughty, nor to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but on God, who richly provides us with everything to enjoy (1 Timothy 6:17)

Providence is not a word much used in Christian speech. Whilst a very common concept in the writings of previous ages, for whatever reason it has faded from much of the modern church. So much so, that I suspect some of you might not have heard it used before and a short definition is in order.

The word is liked to provide. Providence is God providing for his people. There is another, closely related meaning to the word. If you were to look at its Latin roots, you would find two parts: “pro”, meaning “before” or “in front of”; and “videre” which means “to see”. Providence is more than mere foreknowledge, though. In Christian terms it is the understanding that God continues to care for his creation and his people. And he cares through providing for it and for us.

I suspect that the reason this understanding has faded somewhat is that we assume that we live in a mechanistic universe, which is somehow closed off from God. The known world exists independently of God, someone might suggest, and is simply the product of the laws of nature. This has not always been the view of the way things are. The great economist Adam Smith, for example, understood the universe to be a machine operated by the hand of God. Isaac Newton simply sought to discern the hand of God within nature.

One of the names given to God was “The LORD will provide” (Genesis 22:14), and over the course of the coming days we will consider together quite how God does that very thing. How does God work within his creation? How does he use people or events to do just that? To this we will return.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. (Galatians 5:22-24)

Gentleness - or prautēs in Greek - is a word with hidden depths! Here is the definition: “the quality of not being overly impressed by a sense of one’s self-importance”. Gentleness might be seen as the opposite of arrogance. It is realising your limitations, and not taking yourself too seriously. It is allowing others to be as important as you are.

In a world which cries out “express yourself” and “assert your rights” this might be seen as somewhat counter-cultural. The world - in the end - does not revolve around you. Rather than being the centre of the universe you are simply one more being sitting on one more planet circling one more sun on the edge of one more galaxy. We live in relationship with others, and we therefore need to take our place beside others and not try and lord it over them.

To be gentle, is to be humble and considerate. It is to show courtesy and thoughtfulness. It is to resist the temptation to assert yourself in a given situation, and even to admit you are wrong. Yes, even you!

It is only when we realise that we, like all others, are flawed individuals that we can gain a true perspective on ourselves. It is as we acknowledge we get things wrong, we are ready to learn and to seek forgiveness. Gentleness is not weakness. It is simply being realistic.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. (Galatians 5:22-24)

Emotions are tricky things. They often sneak up on you and take you by surprise, and other times they slowly build like a too hot volcano before erupting. Emotions can then overwhelm, and you find yourself lashing out or doing something you know to be wrong. Should you be a student of the law, you would point out that Section 54 of the Coroners and Justice Act 2009 discusses “loss of control” as a “partial defence to murder”. Prior to that, these incidences were known as “crimes of passion”.

Self-control is the ability to restrain your emotions. To say no to impulses or desires as they begin to rise. It is putting your head in charge of your heart, and detecting your emotions. Are they legitimate, or something you’ll regret in ten minutes time? Is this really the best way to behave? Shouldn’t this temptation be resisted?

We are hampered in all this by the influence of advertising, which seeks to play on our deepest desires. “Just Do It” urges Nike, “You’re Worth It” is the verdict of L’Oréal. Each Christmas Marks and Spencer like to tug at our heartstrings, and every trip to the supermarket ends with the display of sweets at the checkout.

Self-control may not be a quality much valued in the modern world, but it does speak of someone who is at ease with themself and possessed of a deep peace. It is a product of patience and an abiding joy in life. It is a quality of someone who is kind and good, who is trustworthy and doesn’t think too highly of themself. It is, in other words, a fruit of the Spirit which builds on all others. It is the eventual mastery over yourself.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. (Galatians 5:22-24)

In the English language, the word “faithfulness” evokes ideas of loyalty and devotion. A faithful hound is always at your side, and a faithful retainer is marked by loyalty. It’s all allegiance and commitment.

In Greek the word has a rather different flavour. Rather than a dogged commitment “faithfulness” is about being someone in whom other people can trust. You are reliable and committed, not swept along by whatever fad flits across the screen that particular day. It is, to quote the standard dictionary, “that which evokes trust and faith” or “the state of being someone in whom confidence can be placed”.

Steadfastness is an admirable quality, and to be one in whom others can place there trust is a rare gift. It requires saying what you really think, and having actions which match up to those thoughts. You would hope that no-one would approach you, not knowing quite what response to expect.

This all might sound rather dull, but in fact it speaks of an inner strength and a depth of convictions. The reliable person is one who has thought deeply about what he or she believes, and puts it all into practice. It is, in the end, a deeply attractive trait.

Of course, the person who exemplified faithfulness is Jesus himself. The cry of the New Testament is a call to place you trust in him, the one who beyond all others is worthy of trust. The core of Christianity is faith, placing your trust in God and realising your own limitations. If we are to be faithful people ourselves, we would be best advised to follow the Christ who is deeply faithful.

This is a fruit of the Spirit which gives deep and enduring foundations.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. (Galatians 5:22-24)

I don’t know if there is a doggy equivalent to the New Years Honours list, but if there is I am sure that the highest accolades are the Order of Good Boy, and the Order of Good Girl. What higher thing can be said about a hound? What greater recognition for a dog than to be proclaimed as good? See how that tail proudly wags.

But what is good? Cross the channel and you can chomp away on horse meat. Back in this country there was an outrage when Tesco’s Everyday Value Spaghetti Bolognese was found to contain 60% horse meet. Is there an international standard of good? And then there is the past. We look back in horror at the behaviour of our forebears, and I have no doubt our great-grandchildren will be dismayed by our actions. Is there an eternal measure of what is good?

Well, yes. If we hold that God is both good and eternal, then goodness is to be found in his character, actions and teachings. To be good is to be upright, just and trustworthy. Christ taught, healed and gave up his life so that others might be reconciled to God. There is goodness. It is a generosity, and a willingness to self-sacrifice. It is an interest in the welfare of others.

When it comes to deciding between good and evil, it is vital to do so using a standard which transcends culture and time. No wonder Jesus said: “No one is good except God alone.” (Mark 10:18)

“Then he went home, and the crowd gathered again, so that they could not even eat. And when his family heard it, they went out to seize him, for they were saying, “He is out of his mind.”

And the scribes who came down from Jerusalem were saying, “He is possessed by Beelzebul,” and “by the prince of demons he casts out the demons.” And he called them to him and said to them in parables, “How can Satan cast out Satan? If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand. And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand, but is coming to an end. But no one can enter a strong man’s house and plunder his goods, unless he first binds the strong man. Then indeed he may plunder his house.

“Truly, I say to you, all sins will be forgiven the children of man, and whatever blasphemies they utter, but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit never has forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin”— for they were saying, “He has an unclean spirit.”

And his mother and his brothers came, and standing outside they sent to him and called him. And a crowd was sitting around him, and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers are outside, seeking you.” And he answered them, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” And looking about at those who sat around him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! For whoever does the will of God, he is my brother and sister and mother.” (Mark 3:20–35)

At this stage in his ministry, Jesus is gaining in popularity. He’s been teaching around Galilee - the northern region of Israel where he was brought up - and his authority has drawn attention. The healings which accompany his ministry have brought even more attention, and so he is being followed by a great crowd. The twelve apostles have been called and commissioned, and Jesus then returns to his home (with the crowd).

I think it’s fair to say that his family are not impressed. In fact they think he’s gone mad: “he’s out of his mind”.

These, remember, are the people who knew Jesus best. Those who grew up with him, and are now watching his actions with increasing alarm. How can this Jesus - son, cousin and brother - be saying all these things? What can explain this extraordinary turn of events, a turn of events which has surrounded Jesus with this crowd of followers and a dozen apostles?

How often it is the case that those closest to someone miss the truth about them? Or simply refuse to believe it. If we were to equate Jesus’s family with the church now, who after all claim to have the same Heavenly Father, we often see the same thing. There are many who suggest that Jesus’s sayings are to be taken with a pinch of salt. Those who take his words, reinterpret them, and then proclaim that what Jesus really meant was the opposite of what he said.

It is an old saying that familiarity breeds contempt, and certainly over the years the force of Jesus’s words can diminish. We end up hearing what we want to hear, rather than what he said. We might not dare to say that Jesus is out of his mind, but we might think he is a product of his time. As if the eternal God can be a product of one particular time.

If the reaction of Jesus’s family was that he was out of his mind, the second reaction recorded in the passage was even stronger: he’s possessed.

Whenever a figure arrives on the scene who is hailed as a great spiritual teacher, speaking with a rare authority, the religious authorities get interested. When whispers of Jesus began to echo around Jerusalem, the religious scribes made the trek north to see things for themselves. Here were the great transmitters of tradition, and guardians of the scriptures. Here, also, were those who could be threatened by another teacher.

Ah, these experts said. What you need to understand, they declared, is that this Jesus is in fact possessed by Beelzebul. The scribes tell those who listen that Jesus is possessed by this prince of demons, and that is how he himself can cast out demons. The greater evil is expelling the lesser evil. Jesus, they explain, is a manifestation of evil. Reject him, is the implication. Disregard him, is the insinuation, and listen to us.

Jesus’s response to this, unsurprisingly, is both stark and strong: “all sins will be forgiven the children of man, and whatever blasphemies they utter, but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit never has forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin”. In short: if you declare the Holy Spirit to be a demon you have made such a fundamental error there is no way back. To say that the eternal good is evil, is - literally - unforgivable. The scribes had shut themselves off from the truth, even though they were supposed to be the experts in this sort of thing. They dismissed the saving work of the Spirit in Christ.

And do we not still see those who similarly dismiss Christ, or his teachings? Those who suggest that Christianity is fundamentally an evil, harmful for society? The claim of Christianity is that Jesus is God, and that carries with it the understanding that what he teaches is correct, true and good. To reject Jesus’s teaching is to call into question his deity. To reject Christ is to reject the means by which God reconciles people to himself, to reject his offer of salvation. Which is what the scribes did.

As we come to the end of the passage, the question naturally arises: what think you of Christ? Who is he? What is your response?

Perhaps you view him as someone who is trustworthy in parts, or a good teacher who was made a messiah by mistake. If so, think on this: Jesus made tremendous claims to be God. He dared to teach on his own authority, and forgive sins. Something which only God has the right to do. So what is he? Was he out of his mind or malicious? He worked miracles, something even attested by his enemies. How did he do this? Through the forces of good, or of evil? He is either mad, bad or right.

Jesus is keen to point out that the forgiveness of God is on offer for all except those who presume to equate the Holy Spirit with evil. Maybe you have dismissed Christ in the past or maybe been rather half-hearted in your response to him. Here is the call to embrace him whole-heartedly.

What do you make of Jesus? It’s a question with eternal consequences.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. (Galatians 5:22-24)

Very often the word “kind” is equated with “nice”, but that does little justice to what the word meant in Greek when Paul wrote Galatians. The word he used - chrēstótēs - primarily means behaving in an upright manner with people. It’s not misleading them, or deceiving them. For Paul, the word “kindness” means being open and honest, and not hiding uncomfortable truths. This is the truly helpful and beneficial thing to do.

In an age where offence is taken quickly, there is a growing temptation to think that the kind thing is simply not to cause offence. If you see the dangers in the path someone is taking, is it really kind to ignore the issue? If someone asks you a direct question, it might be easier to fudge the answer but is that kind? Misleading people might be the easier path, but is that kind to others?

Of course, this is not to say that you have to act with an offensive manner, and seek to hurt people. There are ways of saying things! Rather, the kindness that Paul has in mind is a courageous kindness which seeks the good of others, even if it is awkward for you. It is not simply being nice, but seeking to act in another’s interest.

That is kindness. It is not passive, it is an active kind of love.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. (Galatians 5:22-24)

The present is one of the hardest times in which to live. When I say “the present” I don’t simply mean this period of time, I mean this particular millisecond. I mean living entirely in the here and now, not anchored down by past regrets or consumed with yearnings for future promises.

This is all the more difficult when you find yourself waiting for some particular outcome. Like a small child on Christmas Eve you find your thoughts filled with the future, and anxiety can begin to rise.

The Greek word translated “patience” (makrothumía) deals with this kind of condition. It is defined as a “state of remaining tranquil while awaiting an outcome”, and can be translated as patience, steadfastness or endurance. In Christian terms, it is trusting in God for your future and having a deep sense that in the end his timing is probably better than yours. It is living in the present, and not being dominated by a future which might never happen.

John Favel, the seventeenth century vicar of Dartmouth, put it well: “The delay of your mercies is really for your advantage… The foolish child would pluck the apple while it is green, but when it is ripe, it drops of its own accord, and is more pleasant and wholesome”.

There is more, though. The word can also be defined as a “state of being able to bear up under provocation”. In other words, this is patience under persecution. It’s once again derived from trust, and a steady confidence in God. Like a rock in the sea, it withstands the waves. Trees grow stronger when they sway in the wind and the Christian strengthens with patient endurance.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. (Galatians 5:22-24)

Peace is a cousin to joy, and swims in stiller, deeper waters. Rather than simply being the absence of war, or of strife, peace also points to a state of wellbeing. It is a deep calmness which withstands the buffets of waves, and the whirling winds of anxiety.

This peace is not founded on material goods, but rather a deep dependance upon God. It is nurtured by prayer, and the ability to trust God with the results of that prayer. Because of this, it is commonly a peace which is at odds with your physical circumstance. Paul puts it well:

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:4–7)

It is this peace which emboldened the martyrs of the church, and enabled others to face trial and tumult. It is the ready turning to prayer, and the habit of trust in a God who is over all. It is a fruit of trust. The well known hymn puts it well:

When peace like a river attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot Thou hast taught me to say,
“It is well, it is well with my soul!”

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

My sin—oh, the bliss of this glorious thought—
My sin, not in part, but the whole,
Is nailed to His Cross, and I bear it no more;
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live;
If dark hours about me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. (Galatians 5:22-24)

One of the wonderful things about joy is that it isn’t tied to your particular circumstances. In our consumerist age, where we are being sold the idea that we need this or that to make us happy, the subversive thing about joy is that it is not tied to material goods, or even circumstances.

The greek word translated ‘joy’ (chara) has the wonderful definition “the experience of gladness”. In Christian terms this comes from a sense of security in God. You are his, since he gave up his son for you. The Spirit of God resides within you, and you are in his care. This joy can bubble up in difficulty, and sustain in times of struggle. It is the kind of joyful security we see in Deuteronomy 33:27 where we read: “the eternal God is your dwelling place, and underneath are the everlasting arms”.

There is more though. The word can also be used of a person who gives joy, something which can be seen when Paul writes to the church in Thessaloniki: “For what is our hope or joy or crown of boasting before our Lord Jesus at his coming? Is it not you?” (1 Thessalonians 2:19).

This fruit of the Spirit, then, is not simply the receiving of Joy but also the giving of Joy. The two are often connected, as P G Wodehouse noted:

“As we grow older and realize more clearly the limitations of human happiness, we come to see that the only real and abiding pleasure in life is to give pleasure to other people.”

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. (Galatians 5:22-24)

What is love? The ancient Greeks have many different words for love: it could be erotic, or brotherly. There’s love within a family, and love based on having a high regard for someone. Love at times is yearning, at other times it flows from compassion. You can love a spouse and love dry roasted peanuts. “Love” carries a whole range of meanings, and it is dangerous to get them mixed up!

In the passage, Paul is using the word: “agapē”. The standard dictionary of New Testament Greek defines it as “the quality of warm regard for and interest in another”. It suggests you translate it with words such as “esteem, affection, regard, love”. It is a kind of love which is not based on self interest, but on a warmth for another. It is not the sort of love that leads to marriage, but rather an affectionate esteem for another person. It’s not limited to intimate relationships, and only very rarely did the Greeks of the day use it to describe anything sexual.

Most significantly, it is the word used to describe God’s love for humans. As we experience that love, and put down our roots into it, then it becomes a fruit of the Spirit in our own life. We become more Christlike.

So what might this fruit of the Spirit look like in practice? It is have a warm affection for others, and a desire to see the best in them. It is to be forgiving, and to show an interest in them. It is patient and enduring. It is rich and settled.

It is reflecting to others the love of God which shines upon you.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. (Galatians 5:22-24)

There is a remarkable lack of effort from fruit trees. They stand anchored to soil, draw up the nutrients, bask in the sun and then produce the fruit which is natural to them. Apple trees produce apples, and pear trees pears. Some years the branches hang heavy, other times there is a sparse scattering, but each year something grows.

Here is the imagery that the Apostle Paul is using. Rather than the Christian life being one of sheer force of will, it is in fact a question of putting down roots. As Jesus puts it in John 15:4 “Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me”. So long as fruit trees are well rooted, they will continue to bear fruit. Even trees which have blown over, if their roots are pretty intact, will bear something.

To “abide” in Christ, is to live a life which is shaped by prayer and the reading of Scripture. It is to allow your view of the world to be formed by this, and not the competing and clamouring voices of so many others. It is a life of faith, and faith in itself is closely linked to trust. To place trust in Christ and his teachings is to abide in Christ.

At times you may feel a million miles away from patience and self-control. Joy and peace might feel like far distant hopes. At these times the answer is not positive thinking, or sheer effort. No, times like these are calls to put down roots.

So then, brothers, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh. For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him. (Romans 8:21-17)

Life’s pretty good as a child. If you get frightened there is always a parent to turn to say everything’s OK (even if the parent is petrified!). If you get hurt you can get a kiss, a cuddle and an elastoplast. If something goes wrong, there is usually a parent with a credit card to sort it out.

In my childhood I just took it for granted that these things happened. I just got clothes, food and a roof over my head. If you asked me how, I would have looked at you confused – it just happens. And even if you live in tough circumstances where money is tight, you still rely on your mum or dad to sort things out.

But there comes a time when life starts to crowd in around you as you worry about fitting in: right clothes, right hair, right teeth. You worry about getting all that schoolwork done, and then there’s the the stress of perpetual examinations. Once they’re finally done, there’s that awful question: what are you going to do for a job? All of a sudden this safe, enclosed life is blown open.

This gets worse as you continue to get older. When you finally leave the safety of education hit by reality of life. Jobs to secure, taxes to pay and the bank to keep happy. And then, with what is left, you have to pay the rent, feed yourself, buy something to wear, travel around. That 25p that’s left over? You’d better start a savings account. The adult world is full of words which trigger fear: mortgage; pension; insurance; tax; and bills.

These fears seep relentlessly into the church as well. Will I fit in? Worse: will I find myself on the PCC? Common Worship or Book of Prayer? What’s the best translation of hate Bible to use, and should I own up to finding faith difficult? If I tell anyone that I am not perfect will they look down on me? What happens if I look unspiritual? Or too spiritual?

These fears can strike at the very heart of our faith as you come to the conclusion that you simply aren’t good enough. The thoughts crowd in: I don’t deserve anything from God. He’s not pleased with me. I don’t pray enough. I don’t read my Bible enough. I just don’t make the grade.

It is at this point that the words of the Apostle Paul can be a balm: “you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship”.

What Paul is saying here is that the Christian is adopted, a theme he develops in many places. To receive the very Spirit of God is to be adopted.

Some treat Christianity as being fostered: you can only stay with God as long as you behave yourself; you might be moved on at any moment. That is to misunderstand things. Adoption is permanent. The papers have been signed. You are now a child of God. If have decided to follow Christ, you are a Child of God and the Holy Sprit within you acts as your adoption papers. He bears witness with your spirit that you are a child of God.

Think about this. Dwell on it. This adoption brings with it the benefits of childhood. With God as father, a child of God has no need to fear. Do you fear about your future? Well in God you have a sure and steadfast guide. A God who knows the future, past and present. A God to guide you. To sustain you. To provide for you.

Do you have a fear of hopelessness, those dark moments of despair? When you just don’t think you can cut it? You have a father to go to. A father who not only cares, but is able to do something about it.

Are you worried you won’t make the grade as a Christian? That you’re not good enough? Well God is your father. He knows your weaknesses but loves you regardless. He will continue to nurture and raise you.

Do you worry about those big decisions of life? Well, turn to God in prayer. Let him guide you. He knows.

I wish more Christians would treat God as their father. You have been adopted by God, the Almighty. Why ignore him? A child instinctively goes to his or her parent when things get tough. A child instinctively looks to the parent for affirmation and guidance. And yet we don’t. We have a father, but is he treated as one?

Oh become the children that you are. Trust God. He’s big enough. And he’s your father. He’s not about to let you down. He desires the best for you, and has shown his love for you by sending his son

Stop worrying about what other people think. Stop worrying about the “proper” way to worship. Stop worrying about whether you are good enough. Stop worrying! God is your father!

Stop praying “Our transcendental deity” and start praying “Our Father”. Stop seeing God as a sort of headmaster who is impossible to please, and start seeing God as a father. Stop seeing God as remote being, and start seeing him as your father.

You may have been let down by your earthly father. You may not have even known your earthly father well, but God is not about to leave you. Not about to let you down.

At school, you would often hear in the playground: “my dad’s bigger than your dad”. Well, now it is true! The next time you look your trouble in the eye: “my dad’s…”. The next time life crowds in: “my dad’s…”.

Read once more those words of Paul: “For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God…” (Romans 8:14–16)

"But when the Helper comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth, who proceeds from the Father, he will bear witness about me.” (John 15:26)

And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” (Galatians 4:6)

The Greek and Hebrew words which are translated as “Spirit” both carry the meaning of breath. Breath is something which gives life, and something which forms part of our being. Death is the departure of breath from the body, and our breathing is something which is unconscious and continual.

Before Jesus left his disciples, he promised them that another would be sent by him from the Father: the Spirit of truth. This same Spirit is identified as the “Sprit of his Son” by the Apostle Paul. This Spirit is as much God as the Father and the Son are, but we must be careful not to think of him simply as some vague force. In the New Testament he is described as one who will teach, and bear witness. He does not permit Paul to go into the region of Bithynia and empowers believers. He can be grieved, and searches our hearts.

Here then is the Holy Spirit, the third person of the Trinity. Yet there is more. This selfsame Spirit resides within the heart of the believer, God ever-present with and within us. This Holy Spirit over time transforms us into greater Christlikeness. AS he hovered over the waters in creation (Genesis 1) he also re-creates those who follow Christ. He inspires the Scriptures which guide us, and reveals God to us. He gathers the church, and equips it with all that is needed.

No wonder one recent theologian has called the Holy Spirit “God’s Empowering Presence”. The Spirit is God, closer to us than our own breath.

“And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth… No one has ever seen God; the only God, who is at the Father’s side, he has made him known.” (John 1:14, 18)

“but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed the heir of all things, through whom also he created the world. He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power. After making purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high,” (Hebrews 1:2–3)

“He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation.” (Colossians 1:15)

This small collection of three passages from the pen of the Apostle John, the Apostle Paul and whoever wrote the book of Hebrews have an deep unity. They speak of Christ not as a wonder-worker or simply a religious leader. They don’t accord him the honour of “great teacher” or “inspirational leader”, but they all wish to get to a deeper reality. Rather than focus on the surface - the words and deeds of Jesus - they want to dive into the depths of who Jesus is.

When you look at the answers they give as they resurface, you find a great desire to show the close, intimate relationship between Son and Father. Jesus makes the father known as he walked in ancient Judaea. “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14:9). Jesus is the “radiance of the glory of God”. More, “the exact imprint of his nature”. Paul adds that Jesus is the “image of the invisible God”.

Taken together all of these point to the fact that Jesus is what one writer called the “appearing God”. He is God made visible to the human eye. So it is that Jesus is not another God, but simply the God. God made manifest. The God made known. The image of the invisible God.

Simply God.

In the beginning, God... (Genesis 1:1)

God said to Moses, “I AM WHO I AM” (Exodus 3:14)

I was once in a class of eleven year olds in Mordiford, taking any questions they could throw at me. One lad in particular was really engaging with all of this, quizzing me about God’s externality and also asking “who created God”. I gave what I hope were appropriate answers for year six, and the lad put his head in his hands and said: “aaargh”! And I told him that he’d got it! He’d realised that he could not completely understand God, and that at times some of the concepts of God only tickle the edge of our minds. I find that exciting, the boy less so. The point is that God is other.

When we speak of God the Father, we speak of someone who owes his existence to no-one. He simply is. He is the ultimate cause of all things, the first action from which all reactions flow. The life from which all life derives. The standard against which all else is measured.

These are ideas which we are not used to thinking. Often when you meet someone, you ask them: “where are you from”. God alone can answer: nowhere. He just is. In the beginning God was already there, and his name is simply “I AM WHO I AM”. He just is. We can describe him, but we cannot define him.

And I find that simply liberating. It allows me to rethink the world around God, and stop thinking it revolves around me. Deeper than all my thought, emotions and intuition is God. Who is.

Who simply is.

“And when Jesus was baptised, immediately he went up from the water, and behold, the heavens were opened to him, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming to rest on him; and behold, a voice from heaven said, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.”” (Matthew 3:16–17)

“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” (Matthew 28:19)

“The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all.” (2 Corinthians 13:14)

“For through him we both have access in one Spirit to the Father. So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God,” (Ephesians 2:18–19)

The distinctive belief of Christianity is that God is a Trinity: one in essence and three in persons. Turn to Islam or to Judaism and you find a denial of this, and discover Jesus is either a prophet (Islam) or an executed blasphemer (Judaism). Christianity alone claims deity for Christ, and holds to a concept of the one God which allows for that one God to also be three persons. “That’s logical impossible” you might cry. “We know” would be the answer from two millennia of theologians.

So how did we get here? How did we get to the place where we hold to something we know passes all understanding? The simple answer is that in the Bible we find Jesus spoken of in terms which can only be used of God. He is put alongside the Father and the Spirit. He is called the Son of God. He forgives sins, and can both lay down his life at the crucifixion and take it up again at Easter. He stills storms, and shows mastery over creation.

For the first Christians, flabbergasted at what they saw, they no doubt thought back to those times in the Old Testament where God appeared to his people. They might have dwelt on the fact that in Genesis 1 we read “let us make man in our image”.

This doctrine of the Trinity, then, was not the result of speculation or theologians talking late into the evening. It was a result of reading the Scriptures, and making sense of what was seen. Again and again in the Old Testament the “word of the LORD” came to the prophets, and in one instance the word of the LORD came to Abram and “he brought him outside and said...” (Genesis 15:5). How could a word take someone outside? Well, the Apostle John realised that this “word” took flesh and dwelt among us (John 1:1-14). The New Testament simply clarified what was in the old. Jesus was seen in the ancient pages, and was understood to be God.

As our heads gently swim, perhaps I might put it this way: we believe in the Trinity, because the Father acts like God, Jesus acts like God and the Spirit acts like God. Yet we know that God is One (Deuteronomy 6:4). Quite how it works, we leave to God. That it works is clear in the pages of the Bible.

“Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honour and glory and blessing!” And I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea, and all that is in them, saying, “To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honour and glory and might forever and ever!” And the four living creatures said, “Amen!” and the elders fell down and worshiped.” (Revelation 5:12–14)

In the communion service in the Book of Common Prayer, I say the words: “it is very meet, right, and our bounden duty, that we should at all times, and in all places, give thanks unto thee, O Lord, Holy Father, Almighty, Everlasting God”. These words have stuck with me since childhood, maybe because of their insistence. We should give thanks to God at all times and in all places. Why? Because it is very meet (meaning proper), right and our bounden duty. We praise God simply because it is the right thing to do, and we are duty bound to do so.

The question is: why?

Over the past few weeks we’ve looked at what theologians call the “Attributes of God”. He is all good and all holy. The source of all life and blessing. He is eternal and in all places. He is righteous and merciful. All things were created by him, and to him we owe our very existence. All things come from him. Surely in response to all that our hearts are lifted. When you consider the awesome majesty of the almighty God, the fact that he deals with you as you live on the corner of the known universe is extraordinary indeed. What a privilege to be able to raise you voice in praise to such a God as that.

At times it is easy to live your life with eyes cast down, and shoes shuffling along the pavement. It is at precisely that time that you need to look up and realise the great majesty of God. A God who knows you by name!

That is why we should praise him. That is why it is “very meet, right and our bounden duty”. And our joy!

“The LORD is righteous in all his ways and kind in all his works.” (Psalm 145:17)

There is a stereotype which suggests that people who seek to do the right thing, to be righteous in all their dealings, are therefore forbidding and cold people. It’s as if they spend their time measuring other people up to their standards, and judge them harshly when they fail.

If that is the case for humans, then it would be tempting to apply that stereotype to God. And then magnify it a hundredfold since God is far more righteous than any human could hope to be. It is not uncommon to hear people draw up this picture of God, and then reject him on the basis that they can’t believe in a God like that.

Now leaving to one side the issue that God exists whether or not we believe in him, we must acknowledge that Bible does not describe such a God to us. Yes, he is “righteous in all his ways” but he is also “kind in all his works”. God’s holiness sits alongside his mercifulness. God may be the judge, but he is also the one who sent his Son so that we might be forgiven. God is “kind”.

Here is a great balance to be struck when thinking of God. To have a God who is simply kind is to risk having a God who is unjust, letting people off the hook. To have a God who is simply righteous is to risk having a judgmental God. To have a God who is both righteous and kind; well that is a most comforting balance. God judges, but God forgives. What a God we have!

When the day of Pentecost arrived, they were all together in one place. And suddenly there came from heaven a sound like a mighty rushing wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. And divided tongues as of fire appeared to them and rested on each one of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit gave them utterance.

Now there were dwelling in Jerusalem Jews, devout men from every nation under heaven. And at this sound the multitude came together, and they were bewildered, because each one was hearing them speak in his own language. And they were amazed and astonished, saying, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us in his own native language? Parthians and Medes and Elamites and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabians—we hear them telling in our own tongues the mighty works of God.” And all were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, “What does this mean?” But others mocking said, “They are filled with new wine.”

But Peter, standing with the eleven, lifted up his voice and addressed them: “Men of Judea and all who dwell in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and give ear to my words. For these people are not drunk, as you suppose, since it is only the third hour of the day. But this is what was uttered through the prophet Joel:

“And in the last days it shall be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit on all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams; even on my male servants and female servants in those days I will pour out my Spirit, and they shall prophesy. And I will show wonders in the heavens above and signs on the earth below, blood, and fire, and vapor of smoke; the sun shall be turned to darkness and the moon to blood, before the day of the Lord comes, the great and magnificent day. And it shall come to pass that everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.” (Acts 2:1–21)

The whole account of Pentecost is well known: tongues of fire; speaking in many foreign tongues; and a sermon from Peter which resulted in three thousand converts. I do hope that familiarity with the events doesn’t lead to a deadening of their impact, that the extraordinary nature of what occurred is not dampened by their annual telling. In many ways we can trace our own place in the Kingdom of God to what occurred on that long passed date.

Yet we might find in the passage more than the events themselves. In fact within these verses we might find the joining together of things which are often separated in the life of the church. Three pairs of things, in fact. Which means that this will be a somewhat classic three point sermon! So, to point the first: Word and Spirit.

Pentecost, of course, is a festival most closely identified with the Holy Spirit. Here is the occasion that the Spirit was poured out upon the church, when he became to the church another like Christ. An inspirer, an equipped, a motivator, a guide. Under this influence, Peter stands and preaches. The Holy Spirit undoes the curse of the Tower of Babel, and all peoples hear the praise of God in their own mother tongue.

In recent decades, there has been a fresh focus upon the Holy Spirit in much of the church and a welcome desire to have a richer and closer experience of the presence of God. Yet, this has often led to a downplaying of the Bible. “Yes, the Bible says this but I feel the Spirit is leading us elsewhere”. Worse, at times the Spirit of God becomes reduced to a feeling or an emotion rather than being God himself.

Against all this, it is worth noticing in this passage that when Peter - filled with the Spirit - preaches, he turns to the Old Testament. Of course, this shouldn’t surprise us. Peter understands that the Old Testament is a collection of books written by people inspired by the Holy Spirit, as he describes in 2 Peter 1:21 - “For no prophecy was ever produced by the will of man, but men spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit”.

So it is that Peter realised that if you want to understand what the Holy Spirit is doing, it’s best to turn to books inspired by that self-same Spirit. Allow you experience of God to be interpreted by the word of God, and you will be on more secure ground. Peter then turns to the book of the Prophet Joel. Which brings me to the second point.

If some try to separate the Spirit of God from the Bible, then still others attempt to divide the Bible itself. In the same way that New Improved Persil is seen to replace the old Persil, the Old Testament is understood to be replaced by the New Testament. This is profoundly unhelpful, and also not what we find in the New Testament itself.

When you read the New Testament, you discover that the writers are seeking to understand all that Christ said and did by turning to the Old Testament. In fact, this pattern goes all the way back to Jesus himself who used the Old Testament to explain himself to those two disciples on the road to Emmaus. And their hearts burned within them.

The truth is that there is one set of Scriptures, which exist as a coherent whole. Together they bear witness to an unfolding of God’s great plan of redemption. The Old Testament provides the background for the New, and the New interprets the Old. God first deals with an individual, then a family, then tribes, then a nation and then the entire world. Which brings me to my final point.

The other great division tackled at Pentecost is that of local and global. As the disciples got up and spoke, the unpronounceable list of nations heard what was being said. No local, national deity here but a God of the whole world. No God simply for one people or grouping, but a God who created all and therefore calls out to all. People from around the known world were amazed at what they heard, and soon in the book of Acts we discover that both Jew and Gentile are reconciled to God through faith in the work of Christ.

At its heart Christianity is a missionary faith, the first such faith the world had seen. Ours is not a gospel to be hoarded, polished and displayed on a shelf but rather something to be shared. Yet this sharing itself is undergirded by the Spirit of God, who gave wonderful utterance to the disciples. It was as he was filled by the Spirit that Peter spoke. As you look at the history of Christianity there are times of great growth, springing from situation which seem hopeless. Situations, in other words, like our own. Here, surely is a prompt for prayer. A petition to take to the throne of God. That his Spirit would once more fan into flame the witness of the church.

So it is that Pentecost burst onto the world, bringing together word and Spirit as Joel’s words pointed to what was happening. Bringing together Old and New Testaments that selfsame prophet’s prophecies were fulfilled. Bringing all peoples together as they shared in the joyous call of God. We may long for such days again, but don’t simply long. Allow that longing to turn you to prayer, prayer that God’s church might once more be revived.

“Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways! For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who has been his counsellor?” (Romans 11:33–34)

When I trained for ministry (which, I am astonished to realise, was more than twenty years ago) there was one tutor who stood apart. The Revd Ernest Lucas, PhD, PhD was a colossus of knowledge. It seemed that he knew all. Talking with him put you in mind of an exchange between Bertie Wooster and his valet:

"Good Lord, Jeeves! Is there anything you don't know?"
"I couldn't say, sir.”

By the way, the two PhD’s I typed earlier were not a mistake. He held doctorates in both Bio-Chemistry and Theology (the book of Daniel). He could read Akkadian, the language of ancient Babylon. Oh, you get the idea. I’ll stop typing now in case he ever reads this!

Yet, for all this knowledge he was finite, fallible and dependant on the learning of others as the foundation for his own knowledge. As we all are. Sometimes we are all too aware of our shortcomings, and at other times we embarrass ourselves by thinking we know more than we do. Yet we know that humans cannot know everything.

The danger then comes when we project this all too human failing onto God. We unconsciously imagine him to be bound by culture, and time. As if an eternal God knows more than he did back then. As if the God who himself is the definition of truth, makes mistakes. As if our very salvation, and our hopes for eternal life are in the hands of a fallible God.

Whilst Jeeves couldn’t say if he knew everything, Jesus was more sure. “I am”, he said, “the way the truth and the life” (John 14:6). Thank goodness he is, and our faith has a sure foundation.

"And no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account.” (Hebrews 4:13)

If you watch young children play hide and seek, they will scurry into some corner or behind a curtain. As the seeker comes clomping into the room, the child screws up his or her eyes and tries to be both very little indeed and entirely invisible. It’s almost as if the thought process is “if I can’t see someone, I can’t be seen”. It doesn’t work. The scuffed shoes poking out from the bottom of the curtains gives all away. Back they are drawn, and the child - eyes firmly closed - is revealed to the world.

In Psalm 139 we read these words:

“Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there! If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me. If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,” even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you.

Some might find this idea that God sees all a threatening one. There is nowhere to hide! It is true that when you realise that the things you hide from others are known to God it can give you pause for thought. But then, the realisation that regardless of this Christ still died to gain your forgiveness dawns. What Grace that is!

And then you realise that this also means that you are never beyond the reach of God’s comfort and presence. That you are never alone, or unseen. That God is a “a very present help in trouble” (Psalm 40:1).

However much you screw up your eyes, you are not out of the sight of God. That, though, should be a comfort!

“Worthy are you, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honour and power, for you created all things, and by your will they existed and were created.” (Revelation 4:11)

“which he will display at the proper time—he who is the blessed and only Sovereign, the King of kings and Lord of lords,” (1 Timothy 6:15)

The sixteenth century astronomer Copernicus is mainly remembered for his insistence that the earth, in fact, moves around the sun. The so-called Copernican Revolution demanded that we no longer look at the earth as the centre of the universe, but rather we see it as simply another planet orbiting the sun.

A good few years ago I experienced something similar in my understanding of God. Much modern preaching and writing focuses on how God brings great benefits to the individual, and how prayer might aid us in our lives. All well and good, but over time it began to look as if God was simply there to meet our needs. A sort of divine benefactor and doctor rolled into one.

It was then that I began to see in the Christian tradition an insistence that God is Sovereign. I don’t mean that he is a monarch, but rather that he can do what he wants when he wants. He may choose to work through prayer, but that doesn’t mean he is trapped by it. God needs nothing from us, and anything he gives us is sheer grace. An astonishing act of mercy.

God can do what he pleases, and we should be very wary of sitting in judgment over him. We know very little in comparison to his all knowing knowledge. Better to trust that God is good, and that he works all things for good for those who love him. Sometimes, as the earth rotates around the sun, the days get shorter and darker but that doesn’t mean the sun itself has diminished.

“For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen.” (Romans 11:36)

That short verse from Romans, is a prayer of praise for a God whose depths and being are beyond the understanding of a mere human being. A little earlier, the Apostle Paul had exclaimed: “Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!” (Romans 11:33)

The more Paul had considered the being of God - both in Romans and elsewhere - the vaster he became. Beyond the vast horizons the Apostle was able to survey lay yet more of God. Of course Paul could not fully comprehend God! For anyone to be able to say that they fully understand God is to claim that they are in fact greater than he is. That their finite mind can contain the infinite!

Paul understood that in the end all we can do is describe God, relying on those things God has made known about himself. As the Apostle did this, the more he realised that in the end everything comes from God (he is creator, he is life) and so all belongs to God. God is the highest ‘good’ because moment by moment we owe our very existence to him. The very planet on which we move is the work of his hands, and reflects his beauty. The very fact that we can relate to God, and are reconciled to him, is the work of God the Son.

So it is that Paul could cry out that “from him and through him and to him are all things”! In the end, we owe all that we are to the eternal God.

“So you also, when you have done all that you were commanded, say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty.’” (Luke 17:10)

For much of the history of the church there has been an emphasis on the arts, on producing music or buildings which can evoke a sense of awe. Even the most ardent secularist can step inside a majestic gothic buildings - all height and pointiness - and feel something. A sense of awe, or scale perhaps. Or peace.

No end of gold leaf has been applied to walls and books, with windows casting their light like many jewelled trinkets. The inevitable gift shops at the exit of cathedrals will sell you headscarves covered in stained glass windows, CDs of choirs, and glasses etched with the building itself.

Why is this done? Those who through the ages commissioned would reply it was done for the glory of God. But does one who is all glorious need any glory from us? The simple answer is no. Does the great effort of the missionaries, whose graves are dotted in the remote corners of the earth add to the majesty of God? No. They may bear witness to the goodness of God, but they cannot add to his glory. He is already all-glorious. There is nothing more which can be gained.

We must be wary of thinking that we are doing God a favour with our devotion and energies. He needs no favours, but rather our actions are a rich response to his grace. A joyful echo of what we have received from him. The glory is not in the thing that is produced, but in the majestic God which prompted all of this in the first place. Like still ponds, we reflect back God’s light to him. That, to echo the Communion service, is our duty and our joy.

Given all this I thought I would appropriate to go through the passage section by section, rather than simply tackle it as a whole. Like a rich and tasty pudding, better small spoonfuls than spiritual indigestion!

“I have manifested your name to the people whom you gave me out of the world. Yours they were, and you gave them to me, and they have kept your word. (John 17:6)

Notice how Jesus here makes sure we understand that all the words which he has spoken and teaching he has given does not simply have its source in him. No, he is “manifesting” the Father’s name to his disciples. In Jewish thought someone’s name summed up their character, and in all his teaching Jesus has simply set forth the character of God.

But notice this too: this teaching has not been given to everyone, but rather those who God has given Jesus from “out of the world”. The choice of who will listen is God’s, and not everyone will hear what Jesus has to teach.

Now they know that everything that you have given me is from you. For I have given them the words that you gave me, and they have received them and have come to know in truth that I came from you; and they have believed that you sent me. (John 17:7-8)

Back in the third chapter of John we heard that God “sent his only begotten Son” (John 3:16) to the world, and he was sent with a particular message. Those who hear this message, who receive and accept it, realise that Christ came from God. Let us never try and pitch a loving Christ against a judgmental God as some are prone to do. No, all of this work is of the Father and the Son is the one who manifests this to us. To separate the Father from the Son (or either from the Holy Spirit) is to do violence to the very being of God. No. The mission of Christ is in fact a mission of all the Holy Trinity.

I am praying for them. I am not praying for the world but for those whom you have given me, for they are yours. All mine are yours, and yours are mine, and I am glorified in them. And I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, keep them in your name, which you have given me, that they may be one, even as we are one. (John 17:9-11)

Here, in this most personal prayer of Jesus, we find another deeply counter-cultural message: it is a dangerous thing indeed to attempt to merge the “world” with the “church”. Jesus prays not for the world, but rather for those whom the Father has taken from the world and given to Christ. We may be members of the state church, but let us not confuse church and state. One is a heavenly kingdom, the other an earthly one. One is eternal, the other fleeting. The call of the Christian is to be different, to be “salt and light” to the world around, to be united to Christ. It is to march to a different drum, to think in a different way.

While I was with them, I kept them in your name, which you have given me. I have guarded them, and not one of them has been lost except the son of destruction, that the Scripture might be fulfilled. (John 17:12)

As Christ prays for this band of believers, he speaks of his care of them. The Good Shepherd has guarded his sheep, and only one has been lost. This is not the result of a lack of care, but rather that Scripture might be fulfilled. The one who is betrayed is in need only of a betrayer, and that dread role fell to Judas.

Let us also notice that you cannot separate God from his Scripture. In this prayer between Father and Son, the fulfilment of Scripture is brought to the fore. This should give pause to those who hold that the Bible is merely a human document. After all, why would God seek to fulfil a simply human and fallible piece of writing? Why should God’s actions be constrained by a merely human pen? Surely this prayer speaks of the truth that in the Bible we find God’s words, which speak reliably of God’s actions. This is not to deny that it is written by humans, but rather to recognise the role of the Holy Spirit in inspiring those writers.

But now I am coming to you, and these things I speak in the world, that they may have my joy fulfilled in themselves. I have given them your word, and the world has hated them because they are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. (John 17:13-14)

And so Jesus returns from his mission, returning via the cross. His mind turns to those disciples who will be left. They have the word of the Father, but this word brings opposition. Christ himself was taken to the cross, and those who now hold his words find themselves hated by the world. After all, why should Christians expect better treatment than Christ? If Christ was simply a good man, one wonders why he was crucified. If he was a man who was bringing a radical message from God, well then one can see why those challenged by such a message might respond violently.

I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one. They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth. As you sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world. And for their sake I consecrate myself, that they also may be sanctified in truth.” (John 17:15–19)

Given all this opposition from the world, one might expect Jesus to place his followers into some safe corner. Not so, rather he prays they may be kept from the evil one. He prays they will know the truth of God’s word, which will give them firm foundations to live in a mixed community. In the same way that salt only fulfils its purpose once it is outside the salt cellar, the Christian most fully expresses the love of God when out in the world.

Much here to chew over. Much here on which to meditate. Here are some of the final words of Jesus, and his prayerful desire for those who follow him. As you read them, be encouraged by the prayers of Christ and watchful as you seek to live out the Christian life in a society which is increasingly secular in its attitudes. Rely on the words of God, contained in his scripture, and have confidence that God protects you from the evil one. Christian! The Father has taken you from the world and placed you in the secure hands of Christ. You will find no safer, or more secure place in which to dwell.

“The God who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in temples made by man, nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything.” (Acts 17:24–25)

Over the past twenty years of ordained ministry I have seen initiatives come and initiatives go. Many a hand has been wrung over the decline in church attendance, and suggestions have been made as to how this can be reversed. We need this! Let’s join with that! This thing is popular at the moment, let’s do that too!

In the end you get the impression that the God is simply not up to the job anymore, and needs us to help him out. He’s outdate, and his message is old hat. Better to get in the consultants and rework everything.

God, though, is all sufficient. That means he is not in need of anything or anyone. There is nothing we can add to God, and often patience is the hardest part of obedience. And obedience is the hardest part of being a Christian.

I am a fond reader of Church History, and especially of those times of great church growth which stir up the soul. Time and time again I read of preachers who are accused of being old fashioned and out of touch, but whose preaching is attended by many conversions. In the end we should remember that God is timeless, and so is his gospel. God is all sufficient, and so is his gospel.

Perhaps rather than helping God out we would let him help us out. Rather than making him ‘up to date’ we should realise he is timeless. If God is God, perhaps we would do better to trust him, his message and his methods.

“After this I will return, and I will rebuild the tent of David that has fallen; I will rebuild its ruins, and I will restore it, that the remnant of mankind may seek the Lord, and all the Gentiles who are called by my name, says the Lord, who makes these things known from of old.’” (Acts 15:16–18)

And the Spirit of the LORD fell upon me, and he said to me, “Say, Thus says the LORD: So you think, O house of Israel. For I know the things that come into your mind.” (Ezekiel 11:5)

Each morning I wake up with a plan in my mind. The diary is full, meetings are planned, tasks are lined up and prioritised. As the day starts things begin to crumble, as the unexpected begins. Little emergencies and emails. A month or so back I was shocked when I discovered that in my almost ten years in these parishes I had sent and received a third of a million emails! No wonder when I now plan my day, the words “it depends” are often in my mind.

And then there are people who, being people, often have mixed motives. Nothing unusual in that, of course, but you learn that there is a great difference between what are known as “presenting issues” and underlying issues. Both are important, and there is often more behind someone’s initial complaint. One of the key skills in the medical profession is diagnosis, getting to the heart of what is really going on.

So the days roll on with unexpected interruptions and issues which are more complex than they seem at first glance. No wonder we are often bewildered!

In sharp contrast, these two quotes bear witness to the certainty of God. “I will return”. “I know the things which come into your mind”. Whereas our plans are often contingent on other things, and less than certain, not so with the Almighty. What God says will occur, will occur. Yes, from our perspective patience is often needed, but that does not diminish the certainty. He does not get derailed by events.

he who is the blessed and only Sovereign, the King of kings and Lord of lords, who alone has immortality, who dwells in unapproachable light, whom no one has ever seen or can see. To him be honour and eternal dominion. Amen.” (1 Timothy 6:15–16)

What a wonderful word ‘blessed’ is. I do wonder if its use every time someone sneezes has robbed it of its glory, of its halo of sheer grace. To be blessed is to be the recipient of something which brings joy and is undeserved. It is to live in a state of thankfulness, knowing that someone else has favoured you.

Now when we say, for example, “blessed be the God and father of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Ephesians 1:3) it is important to understand that we are not giving to God something he does not have! Rather we are giving back to God something has given to us. It’s the same kind of logic behind the verse from Chronicles we use in the communion service: “all things come from you, and of your own have we given you” (1 Chronicles 29:14). It is the gratitude of sharing the blessing we have received from God, or acknowledging its source.

Similarly, When Paul writes that God is “the blessed and only Sovereign” he is not suggesting that he has received something from one who is greater, but rather that blessing is in his nature. By nature he is blessed, and that is the blessing he gives to us.

The idea of simply having what you deserve - “I deserve this good thing, this gift” - is corrosive to the soul. What better thing it is to view your life as containing blessings from God! These things are not deserved, but simply the outpourings of grace. Treat all things like a blessing, and it’s like living as if everyday were your birthday!

“You are good and do good; teach me your statutes.” (Psalm 119:68)

The goodness of God has come under increasing scrutiny in our modern, secular age. Whilst many simply shrug their shoulders when it comes to the question of God, others of a more atheistic mindset will object that notions of God are tyrannical. To believe in God, they will object, is to place oneself under some sort of transcendental dictator. So it is that Christopher Hitchens published a book titled “God is not great”, which had the subtitle: “How Religion Poisons Everything”. I think it’s fair to say that he would have taken a dim view of any talk of the goodness of God!

And yet we do affirm that God is good. In fact, he is the measure by which all other goodness is to be judged. Is something good? Well, let’s see how it measures up to God. Is in accordance with his will or not? This is why the Psalmist asks God to “teach me your statutes”. To live in accordance with the commands of God is, by definition, to be good.

But what about Christopher Hitchens?

Problems arise when we begin to construct our own systems of morality and then assume God must think like us. We used to own a Golden Retriever, and his system of morality was based around having access to food at all times. He would sit by you as you ate, eyes fixed upon your fork, wondering why on earth that piece of chicken was headed into your mouth and not his.

Fortunately for his health, we didn’t think like him. Not all food was bound for his stomach, even if he thought that was not “good”. When children are vaccinated, they cry as the needle pricks the skin. From their point of view it is not “good”, but their parents have other standards of “good”.

It is only as we live in accordance with God’s statutes that we can be a reliable judge of “good”, and experience the fullness of goodness. Let God, not Christopher Hitchens or anyone else, be the arbiter of “good”

And Stephen said: “Brothers and fathers, hear me. The God of glory appeared to our father Abraham when he was in Mesopotamia, before he lived in Haran,” (Acts 7:2)

Yesterday we saw that God has “life in himself”. He does not need to gain life from anywhere else, as he is life. The same goes for glory. He simply has glory since he is the God of glory.

So what, you might think! Well, we live in a world where a great value is put on self-worth and self-esteem. People look for affirmation from the wider society, and then object strongly if they do not receive that confirmation from others. Dignity is an important concept, and has to be gained from others.

In the end, though, this makes us dependant on other people and subject to their changing attitudes. Not so the God of glory. He can gain no dignity or worth from other people. Rather he is the true source of all dignity.

And what might this have to do with you? Well, what higher sense of dignity can you gain than that which comes from being a child of God? What greater sense of self-worth than knowing that Christ died for you? What greater boost to self-esteem than being a recipient of the love of God? A love which is eternal and changeless.

It is easy to acknowledge that we rely upon God for life, but not often easy to depend on him for glory or worth. Far easier to seek the approval of your neighbour, family and friends. Yet this is to put yourself in the hands of another, and to be subject to their whims. Better to seek the Lord in whom all wisdom is to be found, and who alone can give you a meaning which endures.

“But the LORD is the true God; he is the living God and the everlasting King.” (Jeremiah 10:10)

“Truly, truly, I say to you, an hour is coming, and is now here, when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who hear will live. For as the Father has life in himself, so he has granted the Son also to have life in himself.” (John 5:25–26)

There is nothing more fundamental than life. Have no life, and you will have nothing else. As if afraid of the advance of life, which inevitably brings us closer to death, we find a great obsession with youth in our wider society. Death remains something of a taboo, since it speaks to our own mortality. All of this not surprising: life is the foundation of existence, and to lose it is to lose everything else.

At the core of Christianity are two related claims. First of all is the claim that life itself comes from God. It is he who created all things, and he himself is uncreated. He gives life to everything else, but does not receive life himself. Why? Because he is life. All life derived from him, and he is pure existence. When Moses asked God who he should say that he had met in the burning bush, he was told: “Say this to the people of Israel: ‘I AM has sent me to you.’” (Exodus 3:14)

I AM. God just is. God has no beginning or end because he is simply ‘being’.

The second claim is closely related to the first. Jesus tells us that the Father has “life in himself” (I AM), and so does he. When killed, Jesus simply walked from the tomb. Why? Because he has “life in himself”. Life he grants to those who follow him, and hear his voice.

God has “life in himself” and so all life is a gift from God. I wonder, how do you use it?

The LORD ... keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, but who will by no means clear the guilty. (Exodus 34:7)

The LORD is slow to anger and great in power, and the LORD will by no means clear the guilty. (Nahum 1:3)

Here’s a question: how is it that in the passage from Exodus we read that God forgives “iniquity and transgression and sin”, but also that he will not clear the guilty? Surely if you commit iniquity, or transgress the law, you are guilty of breaking the law. And will not be cleared. It might be, as the verse from Nahum demonstrates, that God is patient but in the end justice will be done.

The answer comes in that word: “forgiving”. Throughout the Bible there is a link between repentance and forgiveness. If you come to God sorry for your actions, acknowledging you have fallen short and desiring to change then God not only forgives, but through his Spirit strengthens your resolve to amend your ways. As the Book of Common Prayer Communion Service puts it:

Ye that do truly and earnestly repent you of your sins, and are in love and charity with your neighbours, and intend to lead a new life, following the commandments of God, and walking from henceforth in his holy ways: draw near with faith, and take this holy sacrament to your comfort; and make your humble confession to almighty God, meekly kneeling upon your knees.

Here is the reason for God’s patience. It is giving time for repentance, something the Apostle Peter understood: “The Lord is not slow to fulfil his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance” (2 Peter 3:9).

The move from iniquity to repentance is a move from guilt to forgiveness. It is a humbling thing, but also a liberating thing. It might not be natural to us, it might even take years, but the Lord is patient.

“As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full. “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you. You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name, he may give it to you. These things I command you, so that you will love one another.” (John 15:9–17)

I wonder if you noticed the extraordinary claim at the beginning of today’s passage? Read again: “as the Father has loved me, so have I loved you”.

I wonder if you can being to think about the love which exists between God the Father and God the Son? The perfect, eternal love which exists in the very heart of the Trinity. The love from which all other love derives its meaning? This very same love, Jesus tells us, is the love he himself has for his disciples. Extraordinary! Not mercy, not pity but the eternal triune love. What a wonderful, assuring statement! Who would not want to abide in that kind of love?

And then Jesus says something confusing: “if you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love”. Now you are faced with the question: do I have to earn God’s love? Is this more of a tyranny than anything else?

The short answer is, of course, no. The longer answer is to read on and see that this keeping of commandments is something which marks Jesus love for his father. This is to say that love is an active force, not a passive basking. It is love which prompts action, and motivates you in what you do. Christianity is not something which is inherited, or simply a cultural affair. It is the active following of Christ, motivated by his love for you. These commandments, you see, are not motivated by any malicious intent, or by simply a desire to get the other person to do something. As Jesus says, he is telling his disciples these things so that “my joy may be in you, and that your joy might be full”. The commandments, when followed, are pointers to joy and paths to contentment. To put is simply, it is living in the way you were created to live. This is why some talk of the Bible as being a manual for living: it is a true guide to being who we are at our deepest level.

So back to that commandment - what is it? Jesus continues: “this is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you”. That love has to be a command demonstrates how difficult it actually is. It is simply a matter to receive love, to enjoy its warmth, it is another to love someone you think is wrong or irritating. Or just plain unlovely. Sometimes it is difficult because of how someone else behaves, but often it is all the more difficult because what is behind our irritation is actually some bias we hold. Or, let’s be honest, because we see the worst of ourselves in someone else.

Yet, the commandment remains: “love one another as I have loved you”. As if to underline that Christ understands the cost this might bring, he continues: “greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends”. It may cost us our pride, but it cost Christ his life. Love is not simply an emotion, it prompts action.

Now before I carry on, perhaps it’s worth pausing for a moment. This passage is simply an excerpt from a much larger block of teaching, and you may remember that last week we looked at what Jesus had to say about abiding in him, and his use of the imagery of the vine. That’s the context for today’s passage, and it’s important to remember that our ability to love others does not simply come from our own willpower, but rather from the Spirit of God within. As we are rooted in Christ, his ‘sap’ rises within us and gives us life. Our ability to love another is watered by prayer, and motivated by the scriptures. It is a result of us looking at the world through Christ’s eyes, and echoing his love. We become a conduit: as God’s love flows into us, it flows out to others.

Returning to today’s passage, we find Christ calling us friends. Rather than blindly following orders, we are told what God is about and so we share in his mission. More than that, we are friends who have been chosen by Christ himself. We need not have been particularly loving people, or great moral examples, we simply need to heed the call of Christ. “You did not choose me, but I chose you”. What a humbling delight it is to have been noticed, let alone chosen by God. Chosen to go out and bear fruit.

Here then is a glimpse into the eternal purposes of God, a sight of his long laid down plan for humanity. He chooses people to abide in his love, to become more like him as they draw from him. He appoints people to bear fruit, and become a community of people who love each other with the love extended to them by God.

That is the church - the living body of Christ. Not simply a charity or a building, but a people called together by God himself. What an awe inspiring vision, what a wonderful prospect.

So, go and love each other as Christ loved you.

For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth. (Romans 1:18)

The boastful shall not stand before your eyes; you hate all evildoers. You destroy those who speak lies; the LORD abhors the bloodthirsty and deceitful man. (Psalm 5:5–6)

The LORD tests the righteous, but his soul hates the wicked and the one who loves violence. (Psalm 11:5)

Last July, “In Christ Alone” was voted the third most popular hymn in the UK by the audience of Songs of Praise. Seven years earlier, Justin Welby chose the hymn to be sung at his enthronement as Archbishop of Canterbury and it has become the most sung hymn written in modern times. And also the subject of controversy.

Tucked away in the second verse, which speak of the work of Christ, we find the lines:

Till on that cross as Jesus died,
The wrath of God was satisfied;
For ev’ry sin on Him was laid—
Here in the death of Christ I live.

It’s that word ‘wrath’ which some disliked. A few American denominations even removed the hymn from their hymn books, and let’s be honest talk about the wrath of God is not particularly comfortable. We are well used to the idea of a God of love, but wrath? That doesn’t sound right at all! Objections rise into the mind, “surely a God of love…”. “I can’t believe in a God who…”. Yet for all that, the passages above show that we cannot simply put our fingers in our ears and pretend it doesn’t exist.

So what to do? First of all, we need to realise that the wrath of God cannot (and should not) be separated from his love. It’s not as if God is moody, or subject to swings in emotion. It is true, though, that unrighteousness (or sin) is abhorrent to him. Think about Jesus making a whip of cords and running the money changers out of the Temple (John 2:14)!

Secondly, we should acknowledge that God hates sin and the all the consequences which flow from it, but he also sent his Son to deal with it. This is not an old man shaking his fist at the sky, but someone sorting out an issue which causes great pain. Christ’s righteousness covers over the unrighteousness of all who turn to him. In Christ, God provides us with a solution.

The wrath of God, then, is something which helps us to gain a deeper understanding of his love. Think of what love God has that he himself would sort out this problem. Think of what Christ went through as he bore this outpouring on his shoulders on the cross, and cried out “my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46). Think of what love would cause someone to endure all that.

And then remember that this was done for you.

Now, therefore, our God, the great, the mighty, and the awesome God, who keeps covenant and steadfast love, let not all the hardship seem little to you that has come upon us, upon our kings, our princes, our priests, our prophets, our fathers, and all your people, since the time of the kings of Assyria until this day. Yet you have been righteous in all that has come upon us, for you have dealt faithfully and we have acted wickedly. (Nehemiah 9:32–33)

Anyone who has set aside the law of Moses dies without mercy on the evidence of two or three witnesses. How much worse punishment, do you think, will be deserved by the one who has trampled underfoot the Son of God, and has profaned the blood of the covenant by which he was sanctified, and has outraged the Spirit of grace? For we know him who said, “Vengeance is mine; I will repay.” And again, “The Lord will judge his people.” It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. (Hebrews 10:28–31)

Surely one of the most persistent complaints of childhood is: “it’s not fair”. Whether it’s bedtime, the choice of food or visiting a distant aunt the youthful sense of justice is often offended. If a teacher dare rebuke a child, then they can expect the counter-challenge of being unfair since, inevitably, it was someone else’s fault. It’s just not fair!

This sense of fairness continues into adulthood, and much of modern debate centres around justice. Justice must be seen to be done, and should you find yourself in a queue on the ring road you will notice that the County Court in Hereford has been renamed the “Justice Centre”. Justice is a noble ideal, and one which is an echo of the character of the God who is just, and who deals justly. As we are judged by God, so we seek justice in our wider society.

Yet this should give us some pause. I wonder if you’ve considered what it would be to be judged by God, the God who knows the secrets of our hearts (Psalm 44:21). Jesus urges us: “you therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matthew 5:48), yet who can say they are perfect, except Christ himself? The problem with justice is that we ourselves often fail to live by the standards we demand of others, let alone the standard God demands of us.

We might like to demand justice, but do we want to receive it? “It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God” (Hebrews 10:31).

It is as we come to terms with the justice of God that we begin to grasp the wonderful, deep grace of his forgiveness. As we realise how far short we have fallen, the bloody, reconciling sacrifice of Christ on the cross becomes more precious. Justice will be done. But forgiveness is offered.

And without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him. (Hebrews 11:6)

Here’s a thought to chew over: God rewards those who seek him. Can there be any greater encouragement to those who search for God? Is there a greater reward which can be found than that which comes from God? Here is motivation indeed!

So how do we seek him, and do so in expectation of that reward? The verse we are considering today gives us some pointers. First of all, there is mention of faith: “without faith it is impossible to please him”. It is the first stirrings of faith which cause us to seek God. After all, you would not seek someone or something which you didn’t believe exists. To acknowledge the existence of God is an important first step since so much flows from that belief. If we believe God exists, then we believe he can be found. If nothing else, a long gaze into a star-filled sky tells us something about God. The very heavens tell of the glory of God (Psalm 19).

There is more than that, though. A belief in God soon results in the the question bubbling up: how do we know anything specific about this God? Starry skies are one thing, giving us a general sense of God, but what about the specifics: what is God like? To know anything like that, we have to rely on God communicating to us and so it is that the Bible claims to be this revelation of God. A revelation made initially to the people of Israel, and then fulfilled in Christ. A revelation now made to the whole world.

The best way to seek God then, is to read this revelation. It is to pray and live in the knowledge that God exists. It is to realise that the world revolves around him, and not around you! It is a revolution in the way you view the world. All big stuff, but remember God “rewards those who seek him”.

The LORD passed before him and proclaimed, “The LORD, the LORD, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin…” (Exodus 34:6–7)

When God passed before Moses, he proclaimed his name and then spoke of his own character. The range of words which he used are remarkable: “merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin”.

A basic theme of the Bible is God is holy, and we are not. When we look at the Ten Commandments, who can really say they have kept all ten? I suspect that none reading this would have committed murder, but as you go through the list it all gets a bit close to the bone. Who has really kept the Sabbath each and every week, not working? Has anyone not been a bit envious of their neighbour at times? This is not to say that we are the worst, but simply that we are not perfect. And as we are reminded in James 2:10 “For whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become guilty of all of it”.

The point of all this is not to depress you, but to help you understand what overwhelming mercy we find in God. The fact that he sent his only Son so that we might be reconciled back to him is sheer grace. The fact that Jesus’s death has washed away those sins which we commit is abundant mercy. The fact that he sticks with us is great patience indeed. That he forgives “iniquity and transgression and sin” is something to be cherished.

Our love of God is a response to his grace, and our desire to live according to his commands comes from deep gratitude. Well we might sing with the old hymnist”

Oh, to grace how great a debtor
daily I'm constrained to be!
Let thy goodness, like a fetter,
bind my wandering heart to thee:
prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
prone to leave the God I love;
here's my heart, O take and seal it;
seal it for thy courts above.

Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love. In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. (1 John 4:8–9)

So we have come to know and to believe the love that God has for us. God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him. (1 John 4:16)

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. (John 3:16)

Yesterday we looked at God’s overwhelming, weighty glory. His absolute holiness. With all this talk of purity and majesty it’s easy to come up with the idea of a forbidding God, a divine tyrant. A God before whom you would never be good enough.

The weighty otherness of God is to be held alongside his love. God is love, we are told by the Apostle John, and so he is the very definition of love. After all, what could be more loving than a God who is perfect, eternal, all-powerful and also love? If we want to really know what love is, we should refer to God. Equally, we should be very wary indeed of projecting our own less-perfect feelings of love onto God.

So what is love? Well, perhaps we might see the best example in the quote from John 3:16 above. It is an active love, seen in the giving of his only Son. Also it is sacrificial, since that giving of his only Son led to the crucifixion. More than that, it is reconciling since when someone puts their trusting faith in that sacrifice and leads to eternal life. This is what love truly looks like, it is not simply an emotion or a feeling but active and reconciling. It is the means by which God brings forgiveness, and restores sinful humans to a holy God.

The God of love has given us a way to return to him. That is what love is like.

For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen. (Romans 11:36)

Worthy are you, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honour and power, for you created all things, and by your will they existed and were created. (Revelation 4:11)

Glory is a wonderfully difficult to define word! What is glory? Can you see it? How do you recognise it? When we speak of the glory of God, or giving God glory, what on earth is meant?

The Hebrew word used for glory is helpful here, as it carries a range of meanings. At its core is the idea of weight, of heaviness. This develops into ideas of things being serious (we might way weighty) and impressive. It carries ideas of something being impressive or great. It’s the sort of thing which stops you in your tracks. And makes you think.

When applied to God, we can then see that God’s glory is closely linked to his power and his being. It almost like his holiness has been made weightily real before you, and is almost oppressive in its intensity. You can see this in the description of the tabernacle: “Then the cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle. And Moses was not able to enter the tent of meeting because the cloud settled on it, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle.” (Exodus 40:34–35).

This holiness is so gloriously present that it puts our own efforts into the shade. Isaiah, after his vision of the throne room of God where the seraphim cried out: “Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory!” said “Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!” (Isaiah 6:3-6)

When we give glory to God, we are giving him the weighty seriousness he deserves. God’s glory means he shouldn’t be taken lightly, or dismissed with a brief “I’m sure God wouldn’t mind”. People get nervous when the Queen enters the room. How much more the King of Kings!

I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit. Already you are clean because of the word that I have spoken to you. Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing. If anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch and withers; and the branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples. (John 15:1–8)

We once had a magnificent and luxuriant front garden. It wasn’t big (we were a small semi-detached house in Bristol) but it flourished. Long, hot summers were no problem and dry soil didn’t seem to affect it at all. The grass verges might turn beige, and the neighbour’s flowers wilt but our little patch kept on going. I’m not renowned for my green fingers (although I am a pretty good wielder of the lawn mower), but against all odds our cul-de-sac was graced by this flower bed.

How did we pull this off? Well, it turned out the water main was split near the front wall of the house. No need to water a garden which is already being watered from underneath! Before long a van was pulled up in front of the house, and the magnificent garden was dug up as the hunt for the leak took place. As the van eventually pulled away, we were just left with bare earth and a bill.

I’m no gardener, but I do know that soil matters. Good soil produces good plants, and arid soil produces little, except withered plants. In the end it’s what is under the ground which counts, and keen gardeners will happily shovel away with well-rotted manure. It’s true for plants and, Jesus teaches, it’s true for us to.

In today’s reading, Jesus asks us to consider from whence our nourishment comes. Where are you planted? What sort of soil feeds you spiritually and emotionally. What do you turn to for sustenance, and your understanding of the world? Ultimately, Jesus is saying that he himself is the only true source of life. We may be branches, but he is the vine which connects those branches to the soil and enables the fruit to grow. No connection, no fruit. No fruit and the branch is pruned away.

The question is, though: what does it mean to abide in Christ? It’s a nice image, but in practice how does it work?

When the Apostle Paul is writing to the church in Rome, he puts it this way: “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.” (Romans 12:2). Abiding in Christ is a matter of the mind, and of having that mind renewed. To go back to the image of the plant, it concerns that on which you feed your mind and what gives it nourishment. We are shaped by what we read, watch and hear - abiding in Christ is making sure you are shaped by him rather than whatever fads happen to be sweeping through society at a particular point in time.

If abiding in Christ means being fed by his words, then that of course means turning to the Gospels. Perhaps a chapter a day, or a section in the morning. Of course, we shouldn’t simply limit Christ to the Gospels but we should look to find his voice in the rest of the Bible. Some people like to read a section from the New Testament and a section from the Old Testament each day. There are many patterns of reading you might adopt, the point is that you pick up and read!

And then there is prayer, a conscious turning of the mind to God. You might keep lists of people, and group them by day, week and month. I’ve come across people who find an undated diary useful, and pray for people on their birthday or other significant anniversaries. The prayer itself might be said kneeling, sitting, standing or walking. Some pray silently, some out loud and others write prayers as if they were letters. Still others do all three at various times. There is a great liberty in praying to one who is closer than your very self - you don’t have to worry you wont be heard.

But what if you are dry? What if all this is becoming a rote chore? Here the Psalms can be of use, to read a Psalm and echo its petitions is a way of praying with scripture. The Lord’s Prayer itself is a matchless model for prayer, each line can form a mental heading for a list of requests. The prayers at the beginning of Paul’s letters give us a pattern for praying for others, or you might simply sit in silence and become aware of the presence of God.

The practice of abiding in Christ is a lifelong task, something which deepens and becomes more rich over time. Like all long journeys, it relies upon the first step. Even if that step is a small one. Over time it becomes embedded in the way we think, and the decisions we make are forged in the chamber of prayers. To abide in Christ is to have your will come into alignment with the divine will.

This is how the Christian bears fruit which glorify God. As Jesus says: “apart from me you can do nothing”. As Jesus warns: “if anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch and withers; and the branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned”.

The soil of Christ is rich indeed. Christian - put down your roots!

In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will (Ephesians 1:11)

When I drive north to Scotland I turn right, and head south to Ross-on-Wye. All the time I’m driving I am getting further from the grey granite of Aberdeen, but my Sat-Nav insists that this is the quickest way to the border. Head south to the M50, and then it’s motorway most of the way. It might be fewer miles to trundle up the A49, but you have to deal with the traffic in Hereford. And tractors. And that level crossing at Onibury. No, better to go south to the M50 first.

The Westminster Confession of Faith speaks of God “working all things according to the counsel of his own immutable and most righteous will”. It might well be that God’s will is beyond our fathoming, and that we seem to be heading in the wrong direction but if God is God (and he is) then we will get there just as he intends. The absolute, sovereign, creator God completes what he wills.

That is not to say that in the process we are steamrollered, and are reduced to mere robots. No, our wills are involved but it is just that God works at a deeper level. Our wills inevitably align with his overall purpose. It’s often the case that you can see the activity of God most clearly in retrospect. As you live your life you are convinced you are in control, but as you look back you realise God was there all along.

To have this confidence in God’s will is something which will keep you going through the darker turns of life. Rather than just fatalism, it is knowing that you are being shepherded by a God who both loves you and sent his son to die for you. The prevailing will of God is the most wonderful thing.

I am the LORD, and there is no other, besides me there is no God; I equip you, though you do not know me (Isaiah 45:5)

“Besides me there is no God”. In a world which is skeptical about absolute truth, here is one absolute which we cannot avoid. We may not be aware of the existence of God, or reject his existence outright, but neither of these things affect the fact that he does exist. A goldfish could carry out a full survey of his bowl, and even peer out through the glass, before concluding that all that exists is contained in his watery domain. It would not mean that the one who pinches in the fish food each day ceases to be. In the end we need to accept that our human knowledge runs out, and that there are things which will remain beyond our understanding.

The absolute truth of the existence of God brings with it other absolutes too. God is good, and so all other goods should be measured against his standard. God is love, and if we want to know what love should look like, we look to him. In other words, God calibrates all the things we might call virtue. They only have some sort of meaning with reference to God.

This is why the Christian can confidently judge whether something is good or bad, there is an absolute standard which we can use. If you reject the existence of God, you have to question if there can be a morality at all. Who gets to decide? Who calibrates what is good, and what is bad. Surely all that is left is just personal taste.

No, to have an absolute God is to us a firm foundation for life and for society. Absolute truths might be rejected, but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist. It just means you don’t like them.

Our God is in the heavens; he does all that he pleases. (Psalm 115:3)

The LORD of hosts has sworn: “As I have planned, so shall it be, and as I have purposed, so shall it stand,” (Isaiah 14:24)

The Covid-19 pandemic has brought with it a curb on freedoms. At periods we have been locked down at home, and other times we can go out, but not to the shops or hairdressers which we once used to frequent. Last year church doors were locked, and we are still not permitted to sing our praises to God. All of these are enforced by the authorities, equipped with fines to issue. Grumpy we may be, but in the end we are not as free as we were a couple of years ago.

And then there are the limitations which creep up as the birthdays tick by, and the bloom of youth fades. Energy dissolves into aches, and once easy movements are accompanied with grunts and sighs. Our freedom is not restricted by any external authority, but simply the slow decline of the body. Also, if we are honest, our choices are often undermined by our own weakness. I may choose not to eat chocolate for a week, but the bin full of wrappers testifies that my willpower is weak.

Outside forces, bodily limitation and a weak willpower. Are we really free at all?!

Unlike us, God’s freedom is not limited in any way. He is not subject to anyone else’s rules and regulations, not does he change or age. He is all-knowing and all-powerful, and so his will cannot be defeated by another. He is entirely free, whereas our freedom is limited. What he decides, comes to pass - whatever we might say to the contrary. God’s will is deep and unlimited, and for that we should be thankful. He cannot be defeated

And one called to another and said: “Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory!” (Isaiah 6:3)

And the four living creatures, each of them with six wings, are full of eyes all around and within, and day and night they never cease to say, “Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!” (Revelation 4:8)

In the Hebrew language, the way you emphasise something is to say it twice. So the King of Kings is the mist kingly king, the Song of Songs is the best song and the Lord of Lords is the greatest lord. In two places, however, this doubling of words is taken to an even higher degree: when it comes to describing the holiness of God, he is described as “holy, holy, holy”.

Holiness describes God’s moral perfection, his purity and his utter sinlessness. Since he is the creator of the heavens and the earth, he defines what it is to be perfect, to be holy. This utter holiness then leads to his otherness. When we measure ourselves against the holiness of God, we look rather shabby. It’s all very well looking at your neighbour and thinking that you are a better person, it’s rather different to look at God and judge yourself!

One of the great themes of the Bible is: God is holy, and we are not. When Moses approaches the burning bush, he has to remove his shoes since he is on holy ground. He is to come no closer. When the law is given on the mountaintop, the Israelites are warned not even to touch the mountain. Like the sun, we might feel the benefits of God’s holiness but we cannot look directly at it. It is a thing of awe.

No wonder God is addressed by the heavenly host as thrice holy. Holiness is at the heart of his majesty. It is what makes him both pure and other.

to the only wise God be glory forevermore through Jesus Christ! Amen. (Romans 16:27)

The great explosion of the internet has demonstrated that there is a world of difference between knowledge and wisdom. It is now a perfectly straightforward task to gather information about something or other. Google away and you can build up your knowledge, but that should not be confused with wisdom. To be clever doesn’t stop you being daft. Knowledgeable people simply make better informed mistakes.

Wisdom is knowing what to do with the knowledge you have.

To understand that God is wise, means that he is timeless and trustworthy in all that he says. There are parts of the Bible which might pull you up short, or which grate against modern opinions. There are other parts which don’t seem to make much sense in a world where personal gain is valued. Why should you give away some of your money? Why should you care for the weak? Why did Jesus not speak out at his trial? Why did he allow himself to be crucified?

The short answer to all of these is: because it was the wisdom of God. A wisdom which takes a wider view, and transcends modern fads, fashions and trends. The history of the world is littered with horrors which seemed wise at the time. As soon as we discover we can do something, we assume that we should do that thing. The philosophies and practices of a previous age now seem outrageous, and statues are pulled down. But what is to stop our generation being viewed in the same way by our great-great grandchildren?

No. Better to seek the wisdom of the “Immortal, invisible, God only wise”.

When Abram was ninety-nine years old the LORD appeared to Abram and said to him, “I am God Almighty; walk before me, and be blameless,” (Genesis 17:1)

And the four living creatures, each of them with six wings, are full of eyes all around and within, and day and night they never cease to say, “Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!” (Revelation 4:8)

To think of God as Almighty comes pretty easily. In some senses the word “almighty” has become a surname for God, and he is called “God Almighty” in the same was as Jesus is often referred to as “Jesus Christ”. The word is familiar, and many of the prayers in our services begin with the phrase: “Almighty God…”. To think of God as Almighty is easy, but it may be that our familiarity has robbed the word of some of its power.

To say God is almighty is simply another way of saying omnipotent, that he has all power. It means that there is nothing in all of creation which can overpower God. All creation is of his making, and he has power over it all. God cannot be resisted or overcome. He is All-Mighty. He cannot be overwhelmed or conquered. God cannot be defeated or overthrown. What he decides, happens. He is all-powerful and omnipotent. He is almighty.

This should be a tremendous comfort. I’m sure you’ve had the experience of making a promise you just couldn’t keep. Circumstances changed, events got in the way and things were no longer possible. Not so with God, what he says he will do, he will do. This is the God into whose hands you can safely place your life. This is the God who calls you to turn and follow him. No wonder we sing with wonder:

Ponder anew what the Almighty can do,
if with his love he befriends you.

“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. He who is a hired hand and not a shepherd, who does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and flees, and the wolf snatches them and scatters them. He flees because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep. I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep. And I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd. For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life that I may take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it up again. This charge I have received from my Father.” (John 10:11–18)

The image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd is an enduring one, finding its way into many stained glass windows. Christ strides out, sheep slung across his shoulders, returning the wandering beast to the safety to the fold. In rural areas such as these, where sheep dot the fields and wriggle through hedges onto the roads, it is particularly apt. Shepherds might now be seen on a quad bike, but nonetheless we can still understand the care which they give and sympathise with the long hours of lambing.

Shepherding in ancient Israel was a somewhat harder life. In a rough climate, with no hedged in fields, much of the job was leading the flock to water. Grazing areas had to be found, often requiring a long trek in the unforgiving sun. Shelter would have to be found, and injuries tended. Sheep, being essentially stupid, always needed close attention and they would grow to recognise the voice of the shepherd. Even to this day you can find mixed flocks grazing or watering in the middle east, and as the shepherd calls out and begins to walk off a number of the sheep - his sheep - will follow.

Protection was needed too, as the plains of Israel were home to predators. When the boy David wanted to confront Goliath, King Saul was not impressed with the youth. The shepherd-boy made his case:

“Your servant used to keep sheep for his father. And when there came a lion, or a bear, and took a lamb from the flock, I went after him and struck him and delivered it out of his mouth. And if he arose against me, I caught him by his beard and struck him and killed him. Your servant has struck down both lions and bears, and this uncircumcised Philistine shall be like one of them, for he has defied the armies of the living God.” And David said, “The LORD who delivered me from the paw of the lion and from the paw of the bear will deliver me from the hand of this Philistine.” (1 Samuel 17:34–37)

No wonder in Psalm 23 we read “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” It’s a comfort to know your shepherd is well armed! If the LORD is your shepherd, what have you to fear?

And now Jesus stands before the Jews and says that he is the Good Shepherd. As he continues to speak, he goes on to reveal the scope of his mission. He may be addressing Jews, and be their Messiah, but he also has other sheep from other folds. His is not a sectarian task. His sheep do not simply come from one place or one background. It was for the whole world - not one nation - that Jesus came. His voice is recognised in many languages, his sheep come from all nations. God is not limited to one people, but reigns over all.

What is more, he says, he is prepared to die for the sheep. Now, we might be impressed with the devotion which leads to such a sacrifice, but to ancient ears this would have sounded odd. After all, what use is a dead shepherd? Who will look after the flock then? Strike the shepherd, and the sheep will simply scatter so that they can be picked off one by one. Yet what Jesus has in mind is a laying down of his life, in order to take it up again. He will not stay in the valley of the shadow of death, but walk through the valley. The death is a means to an end, and not an end in itself. Since Jesus is the source of life itself, he can both lay it down and take it up at will. He has that authority. Which is astonishing. Here is the Good Shepherd indeed!

Let me finish with one further implication of all this: if Jesus is the shepherd then you are a sheep, which, frankly, is not much of a compliment. Sheep are not the brightest. They stand ready to drop dead at any moment, and for no discernible reason. They wander off, and then cannot remember where to wander back. They are reliant on the shepherd, and cannot tend for themselves. To have Jesus as your shepherd speaks of absolute reliance upon him. It means you follow where he leads, and don’t follow your own path. It means trusting in Christ for your very life and protection. It means eating and drinking from the pastures where he leads. It means following Christ, and Christ alone.

Oh sheep, as you wander Jesus seeks you out! Can you hear his voice, calling you home in accent clear and urgent? As you stray, look up and see the shepherd coming to you. Here is one who alone can safely lead you though death, and bring you to the heavenly fold. Listen to no other voices, and follow no other paths. There is but one good shepherd. And he seeks you out.

“Great is the LORD, and greatly to be praised, and his greatness is unsearchable.” (Psalm 145:3)

So far I have been describing a vast God, a God who is utterly unlike us and who exists in a way to which we struggle to relate. It doesn’t take long for the question to arise: is it possible to know anything about God? The human brain is limited, and our senses are limited. How can we possibly understand God at all? Some have even gone as far as to suggest that it is impossible to know anything about God at all. Others have gone in the opposite direction, and have sought to bring God down to a more human level. Both approaches are wrong.

The way through all this is to acknowledge that we cannot understand God completely, but we can understand something of him. We can see his handiwork in the work of creation, and learn of his character and purposes in the words of the Bible. We can describe God even if we cannot define him. We need God to reveal himself to us, and we rejoice that he has done just that through the words of Scripture, and supremely in the person of Jesus.

It is important to understand that out understanding of God will always be limited, and always reliant upon God telling us what he is like. To try and reinvent God, perhaps through attempting to make him more palatable to the present age, is simply to invent an idol. No, we need to allow God to be God, and to trust that all that we need to know about him he has revealed to us. The wonderful thing is that God has chosen to reveal himself at all, and that we can spend a lifetime in contemplating what has been shown. Thinking on these things, the Apostle Paul was brought to the heights of worship, a worship which we can echo as we think on these things:

Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways! “For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who has been his counsellor?” “Or who has given a gift to him that he might be repaid?” For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen.” (Romans 11:33–36)

“Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever you had formed the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God.” (Psalm 90:2)

“To the King of the ages, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honour and glory forever and ever. Amen.” (1 Timothy 1:17)

If you were to look back at old issues of the Romford Recorder from around 1980, there you would find a black and white photo of what I can only describe as a cherubic choirboy. There, above an immaculately starched ruff, stood the head of an angelic chorister. Large eyes gazed off in heavenly rapture, the perfectly formed mouth stood open in soundless praise. Rich, lush hair finished off this vision of sublime youth. Above the image, the headline informed you that this youth, this best of Essex, was to compete in the final of the Redifussion sponsored Choirboy of the Year.

If it were possible for me to go back in time, I would go up to the young boy. Would, I wonder, he recognise the once handsome face, now ravaged by time? I would addressed my ten year old self, and said: “don’t bother mate, you won’t win. The trip to London, and the visit to Hamleys, will be great but don’t hold out your hopes for the first prize. All you’ll be getting is a small single-speakered cassette player”. Fortunately for the innocence of youth, time travel does not happen.

When we speak of God being eternal, we mustn’t imagine a deity whizzing back and forth through time. God’s eternity means he is beyond all limitations of time, and is present at all times. We may have yesterdays, todays and tomorrows, but God does not. For him all eras of history are now. As Peter describes it: “do not overlook this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.” (2 Peter 3:8)

We needn’t look back to the events recorded in Scripture and think that they deal with a different God from whom we are separated by millennia. God is as present to us as he was to them. He is much “I AM” now as he was then. For God, forever is simply now.

But will God indeed dwell on the earth? Behold, heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you; how much less this house that I have built! (1 Kings 8:27)

Am I a God at hand, declares the LORD, and not a God far away? Can a man hide himself in secret places so that I cannot see him? declares the LORD. Do I not fill heaven and earth? declares the LORD.” (Jeremiah 23:23–24)

I must admit that when I first came across the doctrine of the immensity of God I was a little amused. Of course God is big, I thought, why make a fuss about it? As I read on, though, I realised that I had made precisely the kind of mistake this understanding of God seeks to guard against

I once stood on top of one of the Twin Towers in New York, looking out from the roof of the largest building I had ever seen. Yet just over the way was an equally massive tower, its twin. Although both these buildings were vast, they were simply part of the skyline of Manhattan. Look out from the roof, and the mast on top the the Empire State Building was higher still. Go to New York today, and there are five skyscrapers taller even than that.

God’s immensity doesn’t mean that he is simply a very big being, bigger than anything else. It means that he is present everywhere. There is nowhere where he is not: as the old prayer has it, he is “everywhere present and fillest all things”. He is omnipresent, as the Psalmist points out:

“Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there! If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me.” (Psalm 139:7–10)

This means that we need never fear we are beyond the notice of God, or beyond his reach. We may feel a particular sense of God’s presence in an ancient church building, but he is as present in the plumbing aisle at B&Q.

“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.” (James 1:17)

“For I the LORD do not change; therefore you, O children of Jacob, are not consumed.” (Malachi 3:6)

My goodness how we change. As we age, the aches begin to dog our joints and names seem to evaporate from the tip of the tongue. Things which our twenty-year old selves thought were dull and boring, become familiar and comforting. The values which thirty years ago were heralded as timeless and obvious, are now held to be outmoded and bigoted. What is to stop today’s values suffering the same fate in a few decades?

And then there are the smaller, fleeting changes which occur hour by hour. Joy turns to sorrow, anger flares up and then ebbs into regret. Compassion pricks our conscience, and sympathy brings tears. At times life is an emotional rollercoaster which doesn’t seem to stop.

Around five centuries before Christ, Heraclitus of Ephesus argued that change is the very essence of existence, claiming: “everything flows”. Not so God. Around the same time as Heraclitus was writing, Malachi was prophesying: “I the LORD do not change” (Malachi 3:6). There is no change in God.

But doesn’t this mean we have a cold, inert God? Isn’t a changeless God, who is not subject to decay or the whims of emotion, simply like a rock? The short answer is: no! The slightly longer answer is that God is quite the opposite. God is entirely alive and entirely active. He cannot become more alive, since he is perfectly alive. He cannot be more compassionate, because his compassion is already entire and pure. In other words, God does not change since he is already perfect, and already as alive as it is possible to be.

Like those who first heard Malachi we should take this as a comfort. God’s love for us does not wane or change, and it is already pure and total. God’s goodness is entire and eternal. He is a firm foundation for our faith. He is utterly reliable, and a safe haven for all our hope.

“Therefore watch yourselves very carefully. Since you saw no form on the day that the LORD spoke to you at Horeb out of the midst of the fire, beware lest you act corruptly by making a carved image for yourselves, in the form of any figure, the likeness of male or female, the likeness of any animal that is on the earth, the likeness of any winged bird that flies in the air, the likeness of anything that creeps on the ground, the likeness of any fish that is in the water under the earth.” (Deuteronomy 4:15–18)

One consequence of the spiritual nature of God is that his is invisible. One consequence of this invisibility is that whatever image you might wish to make of God is, by definition, an idol. When God gave the Law on Mount Sinai (also known as Horeb) the Israelites saw no form, so they should not presume to make any form of God. The Temple at Jerusalem was unique in antiquity in that it did not contain a large statue of the god in whose honour it was built. As around AD100, Tacitus sought to explain this oddness to his readers:

“The Egyptians worship many animals and images of monstrous form; the Jews have purely mental conceptions of Deity, as one in essence. They call those profane who make representations of God in human shape out of perishable materials. They believe that Being to be supreme and eternal, neither capable of representation, nor of decay. They therefore do not allow any images to stand in their cities, much less in their temples. This flattery is not paid to their kings, nor this honour to our Emperor (Histories, Book V)

As a nation we have a centuries long history of Christianity, and as a result we find the idea of statues of gods odd. As a result it is tempting to think that we are immune from this particular form of idolatry, but it is possible to construct idols in our heads. It is possible to think of God as a being like us, as having limitations, and dealing with us as an equal (even if he is a more powerful equal). Idols in the mind, however well intentioned, will do just as well as idols carved out of stone.

The Israelites were warned not to imagine God as having any form, as being like anything which he has created. What nonsense it is to imagine God as being simply a larger version of something he has created. That would be like imagining Mary Berry is in fact a large Victoria Sponge!

“God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth”. (John 4:24)

“To the King of the ages, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honour and glory forever and ever. Amen.” (1 Timothy 1:17)

God is spirit. In this phrase Jesus gives us something close to a definition of God, a description of what God is: spirit. This is something wonderfully alien to us who cannot quite understand what it is to be spirit, but then that is not surprising. To say that God is spirit is to distinguish him from everything that he has made. The world is physical, but God is spirit. God is distinct from his creation, he is of a different order. He is not a spirit, but is spirit.

As we have already seen, this spirituality of God means that he is infinite and not bound by any physical laws. He is not something made up of component parts, but is a pure and complete spirit. No wonder when asked his name by Moses, he replied “I am” (Exodus 3:14). God is pure being, pure existence. He simply is. We may not be able to comprehend all this, but we can echo the Apostle Paul as he lifted up his mind in praise to “he who is the blessed and only Sovereign, the King of kings and Lord of lords, who alone has immortality, who dwells in unapproachable light, whom no one has ever seen or can see.” (1 Timothy 6:15–16)

God is spirit, and yet we are material. God is infinite, and we are not. So how can we understand him at all? Through worship “in spirit and in truth”. We need to have God explain himself to us, and so we have Christ who is “the truth” (John 14:6). We have the scriptures which transmit that truth to us. To worship God in truth is to put aside speculation.

Yet we are to worship in “spirit and truth”, and so that truth is applied to us by the indwelling Holy Spirit who opens our eyes to God and strengthens us to live spiritual lives characterised by “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control” (Galatians 5:22–23).

God is spirit. He is not simply a bigger and better version of human beings. He is other. He is spirit.

“As they were talking about these things, Jesus himself stood among them, and said to them, “Peace to you!” But they were startled and frightened and thought they saw a spirit. And he said to them, “Why are you troubled, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? See my hands and my feet, that it is I myself. Touch me, and see. For a spirit does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.” And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet. And while they still disbelieved for joy and were marvelling, he said to them, “Have you anything here to eat?” They gave him a piece of broiled fish, and he took it and ate before them. Then he said to them, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you, that everything written about me in the Law of Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms must be fulfilled.” Then he opened their minds to understand the Scriptures, and said to them, “Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead, and that repentance for the forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things.” (Luke 24:36–48)

The resurrection has taken place. The women at the tomb have run with their astonishing message to the disciples, and Peter has run straight in to the empty burial chamber. Jesus has appeared to two disciples who were making their way to Emmaus, who at first failed to recognise him. As he broke bread with them, the penny suddenly dropped and they said to each other: “Did not our hearts burn within us while he talked to us on the road, while he opened to us the Scriptures?” (Luke 24:32). These two return to Jerusalem, to the disciples, to tell them the news. The eleven are there, with others, marvelling at the fact that Jesus had appeared to Peter and in come the two from Emmaus. It is then that, as we can see from today’s passage, Jesus suddenly appears.

What we find in this passage from Luke are essentially Jesus’s final words to his disciples. He appears to build them up in their faith, and then send them out as witnesses of what they experienced. He does not wish to appear simply to impress them, but to equip them. What the disciples are to experience is nothing less that a turning upside down of all that they know. No wonder Jesus greets them with a simple “peace to you”.

The fact that Jesus simply appears causes a fearful reaction. Is this some sort of ghost, or a wraith standing before them? Those who suggest that the resurrection is simply some sort of wish fulfilment by the disciples have to deal with the fact that the resurrection was the last thing on their minds! Jesus appears, and they don’t welcome him as their risen saviour. They fear they are looking at a spirit.

This fear is dispelled by Jesus insisting that he is really and physically there. This is no ghost - touch and see! Feel the wounded hands and feet and believe! The man standing before them is the same man they saw fixed by those hands and feet to the cross. The same man they saw taken down and laid in the now empty tomb. Jesus will go on to explain all of this in terms of the Scriptures, but first he proves to the disciples that he is there as the same man they have walked with for three years.

All of this of is overwhelming: they “disbelieved for joy” and so Jesus goes on to further reassure them. After casually asking if there’s any food around, he eats a piece of broiled fish before them. No ghost here!

But what to make of all this? As the apostolic minds spin, how can they understand what they are seeing? In answering these unstated questions, Jesus reminds them that he had taught them that scripture had to be fulfilled. He zooms out from the present astonishment so that they might understand all this in the context of Scripture. Jesus insists not only that the Scriptures refer to him, but that he also fulfils them. All the loose ends found in the Law of Moses, the Prophets and the Psalms are tied up in him. This is no simple resuscitation like Lazarus, but an event with cosmic consequences. To understand who Jesus is and what he did you need to look not only at the Gospels but the entire Old Testament. You need to understand that within the Scriptures we can trace a plot line which builds up and then ends upon the risen Christ.

So it is that Jesus opened the minds of the disciples so that they might understand those Scriptures. He taught them about what was said about the messiah, much hoped for in the lines of the Old Testament. He demonstrated that it was foreseen that this Messiah would in fact suffer, and not be a triumphalist leader. That this Messiah would rise from the dead on the third day. He also taught them more, implications which would change their lives.

This act of the Messiah, Jesus insisted, would lead to the opening up of a way back to God. Repentance and forgiveness of sins are now possible because of this Messiah, this Jesus: “in his name”. We don’t look for forgiveness because of anything we might do, but “in his name”. We stand before God “in his name”. The name of the one who was raised from the dead, appeared before the disciples, and ate fish so that they might know he was truly, physically raised.

And this, says Jesus, is not simply a Jewish affair. The disciples are to go to all nations. All nations. They are to proclaim this new mode of life, life in his name, to all peoples. Working their way out from Jerusalem, they are to encompass the whole world.

I wonder if they trembled at the thought of all this? The vastness of the commission? Yet Jesus assured them that they had what they needed, and would be given yet more. They were simply to act as witnesses, to say: this is what I saw, this is what I experienced. At its core Christian evangelism is simply bearing witness, but it is bearing witness whilst being strengthened by God. Stay put, Jesus urges them, until you are clothed with “power from on high”. Wait until Pentecost, and then go.

Here then is the resurrection. A physical resurrection, long foretold in the Scriptures. An event which enables those selfsame Scriptures to be truly understood. An event which then puts Jesus - his name - at the core of the unfolding revelation of God, and which sends out the disciples to bear witness to these events. Every church, every Christian that you see today is but an after-echo of that event. The world was changed that day. Will you be changed too?

Can you find out the deep things of God? Can you find out the limit of the Almighty? It is higher than heaven—what can you do? Deeper than Sheol—what can you know? Its measure is longer than the earth and broader than the sea. (Job 11:7–9)

Behold, these are but the outskirts of his ways, and how small a whisper do we hear of him! But the thunder of his power who can understand? (Job 26:14)

Infinity is a hard thing for the human brain to comprehend. Our lives are so full of limitations, that we take it for granted that all that exists must similarly be limited. We can only be in one place at a time, and we exist only at one place in time. If you look into the heavens on a clear night, slowly the layers of stars reveal themselves and you become increasingly struck by awe at the immensity of it all. It’s hard to imagine the distances you can see, distances so vast that it takes hundreds of years for the light to get to you. If you were to look at Orion, and pick out the middle star of the ‘belt’ you are looking at light which left the star 1,342 years ago. In AD679.

The idea of the infinity of God is rich. It demonstrates his perfection, as he is not limited by anything. There is no lack in his holiness, or possibility that it can be greater. It underpins his eternity, as Psalm 90 testifies: “Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever you had formed the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God.” (Psalm 90:2). God’s infinity also undergirds the fact that he is everywhere present, and knows all things. An infinite God is always at hand, and always present to us. As the Psalmist rejoices:

“Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there! If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me.” (Psalm 139:7–10)

Oh what it is to have a God who is infinite and perfect.

“But the LORD is the true God; he is the living God and the everlasting King.” (Jeremiah 10:10)

“For they themselves report concerning us the kind of reception we had among you, and how you turned to God from idols to serve the living and true God, and to wait for his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead, Jesus who delivers us from the wrath to come.” (1 Thessalonians 1:9–10)

At Jesus’s trial, Pontius Pilate utters the telling question: "what is truth?" (John 18:38). It’s a question which still echoes through the lecture halls of universities, and the comment pages of newspapers. More often than not you find that people no longer find the question relevant. There is, they insist, no such thing as absolute truth. It’s all relative, what’s true for me might not be true for you. As Oprah Winfrey might ask, “what is your truth”?

What, indeed, is truth?

We find in both old and new testaments an insistence that God is true. This plays out in two main ways. First of all, he is true in the sense that he exists, in contrast to the false gods. Unlike them, he is the “living God” and not simply an inert idol. He lives, and is active. He hears and answers prayer. Whilst we might forget about God between Sundays, he nonetheless exists.

There is more, though. God is true in that he does not lie. As Jesus says of himself: “I am the way, and the truth, and the life” (John 14:6). God is truth, and since he created the heavens and the earth he alone has the power and authority to define what truth actually is. You might go as far as to say that something is true, if it agrees with the God who is truth. He is the measure by which we discern what is, and what is not, true. This is why the idea of “my truth” simply cannot work. Truth is not defined by us, or our feelings in a matter. Gravity exists whether we want it to or not.

God is the “living and true God”. The more you align ourselves with him, the more you experience life and truth.

“Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart.” (Deuteronomy 6:4–6)

In the ancient world, there was an assumption that each group of people had their own god. These gods were geographical, and when you entered a new place you would make sure you made some offering or another to the local god. The heavens were populated by a host of gods who would often fight with each other, and if you defeated a neighbouring tribe of people then it stood to reason that your god had defeated their god too. Just to be on the safe side, when the Romans conquered a nation they added the local gods of that nation to the pantheon of Roman gods.

Against this background Judaism stood alone, with its insistence that there is in fact only one God. The verses from Deuteronomy quoted at the top served as a very early creed for the Jews, and to this day are known as the Shema (from the Hebrew for’ hear”). They are insistent that God is one, and what is more is known by name. Notice that three times the name of God (‘LORD’) is given in the opening verse. What of the other gods of the nations? Well, they were viewed as false gods of human invention. Isaiah is particularly scornful of the man who makes idols:

He plants a cedar and the rain nourishes it. Then it becomes fuel for a man. He takes a part of it and warms himself; he kindles a fire and bakes bread. Also he makes a god and worships it; he makes it an idol and falls down before it. Half of it he burns in the fire. Over the half he eats meat; he roasts it and is satisfied. Also he warms himself and says, “Aha, I am warm, I have seen the fire!” And the rest of it he makes into a god, his idol, and falls down to it and worships it. He prays to it and says, “Deliver me, for you are my god!” (Isaiah 44:14–17)

So it is that Christianity has at its heart the understanding that there is but one God, a point Jesus made when asked what was the most important commandment of all: “The most important is, ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’” (Mark 12:28–30)

“Consecrate a fast; call a solemn assembly. Gather the elders and all the inhabitants of the land to the house of the LORD your God, and cry out to the LORD.” (Joel 1:14)

On 15th October 1642 Parliament passed a bill which called for a gathering of “divines” in London to revise the Thirty-Nine Articles, which stand as the statement of faith for the Church of England. These divines were to be people who were learned in the faith, and among their number were theologians, bishops and ministers of other denominations. These would meet with thirty ‘lay assessors’ who would ensure accountability to parliament, and all together they numbered 151 people. The idea was to gather a wide and diverse body of theologians who would together draw up the doctrinal foundations for the Church.

King Charles I, however, wasn’t amused and failed to give the act Royal Assent, so on 12th June 1643 Parliament simply issued an ordinance bringing the Assembly into being. A couple of weeks later the assembly met in the eastern end of Westminster Abbey, in the grand chapel built to house the tomb of Henry VII. Discussions began in earnest, and as winter fell the whole body moved to the Jerusalem Chamber in the Abbey, where there was a large fireplace.

Three and a half years later, the Westminster Confession of Faith was brought to Parliament, who sent it back for revisions. They wanted to have Bible verses attached to each statement so that they could be satisfied the chapters were not simply flights of fancy. Eighteen months on, it was adopted by Parliament on 20th June 1648. The following year, the King was beheaded, the Church of England formally adopted the confession, the role of bishops was abolished, and Presbyterianism was introduced into the country. When the monarchy was restored a decade or so later, Bishops returned to their palaces and the Westminster Confession of Faith was quietly forgotten in England.

So why do I mention all this? Over the past couple of days I have written about the importance of knowing God as he is revealed in the Scriptures. To my mind, the second chapter of the Confession does a sterling job in setting forward a Biblical view of God and I thought it would be helpful to spend some time looking at quite what the Bible has to say about the God we worship. After all, as one has put it: “What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us” (Tozer).