I wrote this for the local newspaper (pity they edited out the last half!):
How much of your Christmas is about ‘making out’, you know, sustaining a level of ‘make-believe’?
I remember growing up, wondering if Father Christmas was real, and trying to catch my parents out. I always had my doubts. Is it all ‘make-believe’? One year they went to extraordinary levels to maintain the ‘make-believe’ by even staging an argument as we got into the car to go to a Christmas Eve worship service. One of them stormed back off into the house, while we sat quietly in the back seat (we sat quietly because we didn’t want to get into trouble with our parents already in a bad mood!). When we got back from church, the presents were ‘magically’ under the Christmas tree (put there when they had run into the house after the ‘argument’)!
In a similar way I remember gathering with extended family such as grandparents, uncles, aunties and cousins, ‘making out’ we were all peaceful, happy, content and actually getting on well. Normally we got on well with each other (I have many fond memories of these times), but there were times we’d smile and laugh at each other, privately wishing we could be somewhere else.
The ‘making out’ of Christmas, and the façades of peace and joy and contentment don’t last long. There’s work to be done again soon. We can only be on our best behaviour for so long before our true self lets loose again. If we’re suffering in our health, we can only make out for so long everything’s ok. For many people there’s an empty seat at their Christmas celebration, which can’t be wished away by ‘make-believe’ – the reality of grief is too strong. The reality of families in conflict burst the bubbles of fantasy and well-wishes. Even the shiny Christmas wrappers and decorations will be packed away again. The ‘make-believe’ of Christmas doesn’t last.
When God came to earth as a child, he had no intention of ‘making out’. He came because of the reality – the reality that our relationship with him wasn’t right, the reality that we don’t always get along with each other, and the reality that death or the dying process scares us.
Jesus came into a real world – our world. He came to live among and save poor people, hurting people, sick people, wicked people, injured people, grieving people, and dying people. He could have come and said “Let’s pretend everything’s ok”, but he didn’t. The reality of our corrupted lives and broken relationships is too strong to ignore. He came to heal, restore, reconcile, forgive, and to give life and hope. The hope is real, not make-believe.
When the angels announced ‘peace on earth’, this wasn’t a ‘make-believe’ peace, but a real peace – a peace that leads to true contentment and joy; a peace that drives out fear. He reinforced the point when he announced many times during his life “Don’t be afraid” or “Peace be with you”. This is real peace, but you can’t talk about peace without talking about war. You can’t talk about forgiveness without talking about sin and wrong. You can’t talk about eternal life without talking about death. You can’t talk about the reality of faith without talking about the reality of no faith. We could make out death and sin and pain and suffering and war doesn’t exist, but it does. Make-believe doesn’t last forever.
You see, God came as a human in order to put things right. He came to forgive. Since all forgiveness comes at a cost, he paid the cost by his sacrifice for us. We did the crime, but he did the time. Despite the high cost, his forgiveness is a gift, better than any wrapped present we might receive this Christmas.
He fought the war against death so we might live. He rose again from death so that we know death is defeated. This is the hope we have through faith in Jesus – real eternal life where death doesn’t exist. The story of his life and suffering and death and resurrection isn’t made up. It’s real. We receive the benefits of his life and death and resurrection through trusting him – a real trust, not a make-believe one. Through trusting him, we receive peace and hope and forgiveness and life.
God came among a broken world in the real person of Jesus, born in Bethlehem; born to face our reality, born to give us real forgiveness, real hope, real peace, and real life. Really.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
"I know I'm a sinner, but I haven't done anything wrong!"
I've been a little quiet on the blog lately - I've been a little busy. This doesn't mean things haven't Crossed my life, it just means I haven't had much time to process the things around me and find time to actually write about them.
In one of the books I've been reading lately ('Confession and Forgiveness: Professing Faith as Ambassadors of Reconciliation' by Ted Kober), I came across the above quote: "I know I'm a sinner, but I haven't done anything wrong!". I almost laughed out loud when I read this! (By the way, it was spoken by a pastor!) Yet in another sense, it's deadly serious. How many Christians think they've done nothing wrong?
Many times I've heard one of two reactions to sermons where I sought to expose people's sin. One is "I wish so-and-so were hear to hear that!" To this I often wonder (and sometimes say), "But you were here. What did it say to you?" Don't we often want to point the finger at others but hate it when the finger points at us! This is more comfortable - just brush it aside and deflect the accusation to someone else.
This leads me to the second reaction: people think I'm picking on them when I expose their sin. Well, I admit I have felt moved to mention something in the sermon at times targeting a specific person, but most of the times I did this, they weren't at worship that day (or weren't listening at the time!). Instead someone else who I didn't even consider to be affected by this particular sin felt as if I picked on them. If anyone was picking on them, it was the Holy Spirit!
At times people have said to me I talk about sin too much. They argue it's off-putting to newcomers. They also argue "We all know we're sinners - you don't have to go on and on about it!" Hmmm, don't you think this is so much like the above quote?
Exposing our sin is uncomfortable. The Spirit probes through our conscience and jabs at our guilt, our shame and our brokenness. Yet like a doctor's scalpel, we need to get rid of the infection before we can experience true healing.
Sin breaks our relationships - our relationships with our families and friends, our work mates, and our sporting mates. Sin breaks the view of ourselves, leading to struggling self-worth. Sin breaks our relationship with God.
The reason sin needs to be exposed is so that the gospel will do it's saving effect. If we don't think we need a Saviour from our sin, what on earth do we need Jesus for? Jesus didn't come to be a miracle vending machine, but in order to save us from our sin.
Perhaps we mouth the words "I am a sinner" all too easily without realising the implications. Quite simply I have done wrong in God's sight. Full stop. No excuses. No attempts at self-justification. It is my own fault.
I go to worship, not always because I enjoy it (or even because I'm paid to), but because I need it. I am a sinner and I need a Saviour to save me from myself and my sin. Since I can't fix myself, I need God to come down and serve me. I need him to expose the sickness of my sin, my spiritual thirst, and my hunger for peace. I need him to announce his forgiveness so my joy and peace is restored.
Yes, I know I'm a sinner. I also know I've done plenty wrong. It takes effort for me to see that in myself and specify my sin, yet I can also lay those specific sins at the foot of the cross and receive the forgiveness of Jesus Christ.
I am a sinner. Jesus is my Saviour.
In one of the books I've been reading lately ('Confession and Forgiveness: Professing Faith as Ambassadors of Reconciliation' by Ted Kober), I came across the above quote: "I know I'm a sinner, but I haven't done anything wrong!". I almost laughed out loud when I read this! (By the way, it was spoken by a pastor!) Yet in another sense, it's deadly serious. How many Christians think they've done nothing wrong?
Many times I've heard one of two reactions to sermons where I sought to expose people's sin. One is "I wish so-and-so were hear to hear that!" To this I often wonder (and sometimes say), "But you were here. What did it say to you?" Don't we often want to point the finger at others but hate it when the finger points at us! This is more comfortable - just brush it aside and deflect the accusation to someone else.
This leads me to the second reaction: people think I'm picking on them when I expose their sin. Well, I admit I have felt moved to mention something in the sermon at times targeting a specific person, but most of the times I did this, they weren't at worship that day (or weren't listening at the time!). Instead someone else who I didn't even consider to be affected by this particular sin felt as if I picked on them. If anyone was picking on them, it was the Holy Spirit!
At times people have said to me I talk about sin too much. They argue it's off-putting to newcomers. They also argue "We all know we're sinners - you don't have to go on and on about it!" Hmmm, don't you think this is so much like the above quote?
Exposing our sin is uncomfortable. The Spirit probes through our conscience and jabs at our guilt, our shame and our brokenness. Yet like a doctor's scalpel, we need to get rid of the infection before we can experience true healing.
Sin breaks our relationships - our relationships with our families and friends, our work mates, and our sporting mates. Sin breaks the view of ourselves, leading to struggling self-worth. Sin breaks our relationship with God.
The reason sin needs to be exposed is so that the gospel will do it's saving effect. If we don't think we need a Saviour from our sin, what on earth do we need Jesus for? Jesus didn't come to be a miracle vending machine, but in order to save us from our sin.
Perhaps we mouth the words "I am a sinner" all too easily without realising the implications. Quite simply I have done wrong in God's sight. Full stop. No excuses. No attempts at self-justification. It is my own fault.
I go to worship, not always because I enjoy it (or even because I'm paid to), but because I need it. I am a sinner and I need a Saviour to save me from myself and my sin. Since I can't fix myself, I need God to come down and serve me. I need him to expose the sickness of my sin, my spiritual thirst, and my hunger for peace. I need him to announce his forgiveness so my joy and peace is restored.
Yes, I know I'm a sinner. I also know I've done plenty wrong. It takes effort for me to see that in myself and specify my sin, yet I can also lay those specific sins at the foot of the cross and receive the forgiveness of Jesus Christ.
I am a sinner. Jesus is my Saviour.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Idolatry - the root of all conflict?
I'm attending a conference on conflict and reconciliation in Sydney later in the year and I've been given some homework before I arrive. My first task is to read the book 'The Peacemaker' by Ken Sande.
I flicked through it last night and noticed one chapter that talks about idolatry and how it can be the cause of much conflict. It seems to progress in the following order:
I desire
I demand
I judge
I punish
Without reading further, I started thinking about some forms of conflict and how this develops. For example, in family life (say between husband and wife or children), someone desires something - usually for oneself, starts to demand it (with all the subsequent nagging), judges everyone else wrong and cruel if he or she doesn't get their own way, and then punishes through verbal or physical abuse (or even by 'sulking'). Even the 'worship wars' or financial conflicts in many congregations follow a similar pattern.
With this in mind, I can easily see how conflict is often caused by putting oneself or ones' desires first, which is idolatry. In conflict therefore, what is my idol that is causing such offence that I need to repent of? How can I show grace instead of selfishness, mercy instead of punishment, and peace instead of war?
I'm looking forward to reading how the author suggests to deal with conflict in a biblical and Christ-centred manner.
Food for thought...
I flicked through it last night and noticed one chapter that talks about idolatry and how it can be the cause of much conflict. It seems to progress in the following order:
I desire
I demand
I judge
I punish
Without reading further, I started thinking about some forms of conflict and how this develops. For example, in family life (say between husband and wife or children), someone desires something - usually for oneself, starts to demand it (with all the subsequent nagging), judges everyone else wrong and cruel if he or she doesn't get their own way, and then punishes through verbal or physical abuse (or even by 'sulking'). Even the 'worship wars' or financial conflicts in many congregations follow a similar pattern.
With this in mind, I can easily see how conflict is often caused by putting oneself or ones' desires first, which is idolatry. In conflict therefore, what is my idol that is causing such offence that I need to repent of? How can I show grace instead of selfishness, mercy instead of punishment, and peace instead of war?
I'm looking forward to reading how the author suggests to deal with conflict in a biblical and Christ-centred manner.
Food for thought...
Friday, March 6, 2009
Some Luther quotes
I came across these this morning and thought them worth sharing:
Every man must do two things alone: he must do his own believing and his own dying.
Peace if possible, truth at all costs.
The fewer the words, the better the prayer.
How soon 'not now' becomes 'never'.
Every man must do two things alone: he must do his own believing and his own dying.
Peace if possible, truth at all costs.
The fewer the words, the better the prayer.
How soon 'not now' becomes 'never'.
Dishonouring His name by 'glossing'
I don't remember everything I read. I don't have a photographic memory. This is why I need to re-read them.
In my daily reading today (among other books, I'm currently re-reading Martin Luther's Large Catechism), I came across the following:
'By nature we all have this lovely virtue that whenever we commit a wrong we like to cover it and gloss over our disgrace so that no one may see or know it. No one is so audacious as to boast of the wickedness he or she has committed. We prefer to act in secret without anyone knowing about it. When someone is caught, then God and his name must be dragged into it, so that the dirty business may be made honorable and the disgrace noble.' (Large Catechism, 2nd Commandment, 59-60)
I was struck how true this still is. When we do something wrong and our conscience is struck by it, we either try to cover it up, excuse it, or sanctify it. By doing so we bring dishonour to the holy name of God we bear. It's therefore better to be honest and confess our wrong, make no excuses, and seek forgiveness.
We all sin. Glossing over, justifying, or making our sin seem honourable in some way doesn't get rid of it. It still stains us until we expose it and hand it over to be washed away by Christ's suffering, rejection, and death. We honour God's holy name by appealing to him in prayer, praise and thanksgiving.
I look forward to more gems of wisdom and insight over the coming days...
In my daily reading today (among other books, I'm currently re-reading Martin Luther's Large Catechism), I came across the following:
'By nature we all have this lovely virtue that whenever we commit a wrong we like to cover it and gloss over our disgrace so that no one may see or know it. No one is so audacious as to boast of the wickedness he or she has committed. We prefer to act in secret without anyone knowing about it. When someone is caught, then God and his name must be dragged into it, so that the dirty business may be made honorable and the disgrace noble.' (Large Catechism, 2nd Commandment, 59-60)
I was struck how true this still is. When we do something wrong and our conscience is struck by it, we either try to cover it up, excuse it, or sanctify it. By doing so we bring dishonour to the holy name of God we bear. It's therefore better to be honest and confess our wrong, make no excuses, and seek forgiveness.
We all sin. Glossing over, justifying, or making our sin seem honourable in some way doesn't get rid of it. It still stains us until we expose it and hand it over to be washed away by Christ's suffering, rejection, and death. We honour God's holy name by appealing to him in prayer, praise and thanksgiving.
I look forward to more gems of wisdom and insight over the coming days...
Friday, February 6, 2009
Luther & Aesop
This morning I was reading an article titled 'Luther's Aesop' in a theological journal called Logia. I was interested to discover Martin Luther loved Aesop's fables even though they're pagan stories. He loved them so much he compared them with the writings of the prophets and the psalms. This doesn't mean he considered them to be the inspired word of God or that they should be used in worship, but he considered them to be very helpful to teach young people good morals in schools.
One was quoted that I thought worth sharing (that Luther had reworked):
Of the Dog in the Water
A dog ran through a stream of water and had a piece of meat in his mouth.
But when he saw the reflection of the meat in the water, he thought that it was also meat and he snapped eagerly for it.
But when he opened his mouth the piece of flesh he had fell out and the water carried it away.
So he lost both the meat and its reflection.
Teaching
One should be content with what God has given him.
He who disdains having a little will not have something bigger.
He who wants to have too much, will have nothing in the end.
Many lose what is certain for what is uncertain.
Perhaps Aesop's fables are worth extra consideration, even today.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Simple pleasures
Yesterday I enjoyed one of the simple pleasures in life - licking the chocolate bowl!
Julie was making a chocolate cake and all the girls had left for school. I was working away and she came in to offer the bowl to me to clean it up. I took it without much hesitation! Even though Julie scrapes it very clean, there was still enough for me to savour and enjoy.
Recently we went on holidays. This time we didn't spend great amounts on entertainment (except viewing a couple of films in some cinemas fitted out with worn out second-hand chairs), yet some of my fondest recollections was of the simple things: reading some good books, walking along beaches, watching birds fly and dance in the air, observing some dolphins play in the distance, attempting to body surf, going for walks, and spending time with family.
In this age of entertainment, perhaps we've forgotten to notice and thank God for the simple pleasures. I'm also convinced God doesn't always bless us in the big or impressive times, but through little, almost unnoticeable times, perhaps even in some of these simple pleasures. Unfortunately many expect great and memorable moments in worship or in their faith journey, only to be disappointed.
Although I'm the pastor and generally know what's coming on Sunday, I'm not looking to be entertained or looking to receive big 'Aha' moments, but I'm looking forward to more simple (yet holy) pleasures. I'm looking forward to singing ancient and modern hymns. I'm looking forward to hearing those around me, no matter how in tune they are or unimpressive their voices are, as they sing about their faith to me. I'm looking forward to saying the Creed which we say every Sunday (unfortunately often in a very monotone cadence). I'm looking forward to listening to God speak to me sweet words of forgiveness and comfort. I'm looking forward to holding a small wafer of bread and sipping some wine knowing Jesus is truly present in this holy (and largely unimpressive by worldly standards) meal. I'm looking forward to hearing those words of blessing which send me out on my way for another week of pain and joy.
Ahhh, simple pleasures!
Julie was making a chocolate cake and all the girls had left for school. I was working away and she came in to offer the bowl to me to clean it up. I took it without much hesitation! Even though Julie scrapes it very clean, there was still enough for me to savour and enjoy.
Recently we went on holidays. This time we didn't spend great amounts on entertainment (except viewing a couple of films in some cinemas fitted out with worn out second-hand chairs), yet some of my fondest recollections was of the simple things: reading some good books, walking along beaches, watching birds fly and dance in the air, observing some dolphins play in the distance, attempting to body surf, going for walks, and spending time with family.
In this age of entertainment, perhaps we've forgotten to notice and thank God for the simple pleasures. I'm also convinced God doesn't always bless us in the big or impressive times, but through little, almost unnoticeable times, perhaps even in some of these simple pleasures. Unfortunately many expect great and memorable moments in worship or in their faith journey, only to be disappointed.
Although I'm the pastor and generally know what's coming on Sunday, I'm not looking to be entertained or looking to receive big 'Aha' moments, but I'm looking forward to more simple (yet holy) pleasures. I'm looking forward to singing ancient and modern hymns. I'm looking forward to hearing those around me, no matter how in tune they are or unimpressive their voices are, as they sing about their faith to me. I'm looking forward to saying the Creed which we say every Sunday (unfortunately often in a very monotone cadence). I'm looking forward to listening to God speak to me sweet words of forgiveness and comfort. I'm looking forward to holding a small wafer of bread and sipping some wine knowing Jesus is truly present in this holy (and largely unimpressive by worldly standards) meal. I'm looking forward to hearing those words of blessing which send me out on my way for another week of pain and joy.
Ahhh, simple pleasures!
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