The Tree of Life & the Smashing Pumpkins: Embracing Your Limitations

God sent humans out of the Garden of Eden to save them from eating of the Tree of Life and gaining immortality with a fallen nature (Gen 3:22). This is C.S Lewis’ definition of hell — living eternally with one’s own uncurbed vices.

God puts limits on us for our own good. 

I am in a season where I am brought face to face with my own limitations: physically, mentally, spiritually, temporally. I am realising that I just cannot possibly do everything I want to do — whether it be in a day or a year or in a lifetime.

You reach an age where there seems to be a sudden narrowing of possibilities. You can’t do it all. You can’t be everything to everyone. You can’t be everywhere. Your circle shrinks. 

But maybe it was always smaller, our circle, than we thought, and all that’s happened now is that our eyes are wider open. 

I’m thinking of the wisdom in Paul’s statement “Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life” (1 Thes 4:11); and consequently of all the time I’ve wasted.

Although the quote is originally credited to Georgie Bernard Shaw, Billy Corgan of the Smashing Pumpkins was, in his own cynical and self-absorbed way, correct when he belted out “Youth is wasted on the young!” (In the both intensely poignant and rambunctious epic “Thru the Eyes of Ruby”). 

But perhaps there’s freedom in a reduction of possibilities. 

Permission to let go. 

Permission to let be.

Permission to let God.

By nature we are limited to physical bodies that fail us, minds that grow weary, hearts that ache for more. 

But our souls yearn regardless — in the final estimation, we are too big for our boots. 

We are made for more than this life can provide. Squeezing water from a rock is not only exhausting — it’s futile.

So I ask God the question: “What are you teaching me in this season?” 

His answer: “It is enough, whatever you do. You are sufficient. These limits are for your good. Respect them.” 

What’s the outcome? I focus again on Him, the Lord and the Giver of Life, who has more than we can ask or imagine in store for us.

Therefore, somewhat unexpectedly, even in this season I proclaim: God is good!

*** 

Are you experiencing limits in your life?

Embrace them. I know it’s easier said than done, but trust God knows what He’s doing.

But hey, it’s just my two-bob as usual.

What Makes Good Friday Good? The Two Billion Dollar Question

As a child I used to enjoy sleepovers at my Nanna & Nonno's house, who being devout Italian Catholics had adorned every room with a crucified Christ. As I lay in bed trying to fall asleep, I would eye the spectacle warily in the darkness — or was it eyeing me? I must admit I was a little afraid. But going down the hallway to my sister’s room was out of the question, for a great statue of Mary loomed at the far end and the prospect of facing that in the darkness was far worse. I would huddle under the blankets and eventually fall asleep.

Yet now the image of Christ on the cross has huge significance for me, not perhaps as much significance as an empty cross (He is risen!) but significance all the same. 

It would seem that the crucifixion of Christ also has much contemporary significance, given that two thousand years later we hold a public holiday to commemorate it. A recent article in the Financial Review estimated that the economical cost to hold a public holiday is about two billion dollars.

So then, the two billion dollar question: What makes Good Friday good? 

Isn't it simply the day we attribute to Jesus' suffering and death on the cross?

Well yes, but some things are not as they first seem.

You see, when Jesus breathed the words, "It is finished," on a cross outside Jerusalem, the powers that be revelled in a seemingly unambiguous victory. 

The man who had claimed to be the Messiah - the coming king to whom the whole earth would bow in allegiance — hung safely and securely dead over the very city into which he had just ridden into claiming his kingship. 

He wasn't the first and he wouldn't be the last. At least this particular uprising was quelled quickly.

Or was it? 

There were immediate signs that this Messiah's death was not solito negotium (business as usual), nor was it an unambiguous victory. For one, a thick darkness settled over the land lasting three hours, the earth had shaken and rocks split open, tombs had spewed their inhabitant forth and ghosts were seen lurking in the streets. 

The Jewish temple sent reports that the massive curtain separating the altar from the ark of the covenant (on which God's presence was said to rest on the wings of cherubim), had supernaturally torn in two.

That's not the worst of it either. The very Roman centurion who participated in the execution and then witnessed these other-worldly events suddenly exclaimed, "Truly this was the Son of God!" (Matt 27:54). 

The enemy had overplayed its hand. 

For Jesus of Nazareth was not just another human Messiah whose rebellion was routed in a routine Roman crucifixion. As the centurion himself testified, he was the Son of God. He was also God the Son: Jesus was God incarnate. 

You can't kill God on a cross. You can't kill God at all. 

So while evil was relishing in a sure-fire victory, holding nothing back, dishing out all the human cruelty it could muster, God was absorbing it into Himself, rendering it defeated, no longer able to hold humanity under its sovereign rule of sin and death. 

Sin thus stripped of its power could no longer separate God from His creation.

Rather than a victory, evil suffered a crushing defeat. 

It is finished indeed.

In God's topsy-turvy kingdom, the cross, hitherto an instrument of death, became an instrument of life, as God's love for the world became manifest in His own body broken for the world. 

And so on Good Friday, we celebrate a good God. 

A good God who threw Himself in front of the cosmic train of our own self-destruction, to rescue us from the mess and the mission of the fallen world we live in. 

A good God who allowed Himself to be nailed to a cross on behalf of us all, removing the power of sin and death from our lives.

A good God who invites us to join Him in this revolution, declaring Jesus as our Lord, Saviour, Judge, and King.  

A good God, who through his sacrifice offers us eternal life.

A good God who "so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him, shall no perish, but have eternal life" (John 3:16). 

That’s what makes Good Friday good.

And for today, it's not my two bob worth as usual, it's a nationally celebrated two billion worth. 

Picture: The 17th-century painting Christ Crucified by Diego Velázquez, held by the Museo del Prado in Madrid

The Gospel Jesus Preached: The Present Availability of the Kingdom of God

When you hear the word 'Gospel', what do you think?

I'm betting that you've heard something like this: Jesus died for your sins so you could go to heaven after you die.

It's the classic Romans 1 Gospel: warn 'em of God's wrath then tell them how to dodge it. 

Set 'em on fire then offer a bucket of water. 

The staple diet of nineteenth and twentieth-century evangelism. 

It's not that that statement is untrue, it's just not the whole truth, or even the main part of the truth. 

In the words of John Mark Comer, "It's not less than that, but it's so much more!"

Or maybe you're more used to hearing the Matthew 25 least-of-these A.K.A the social justice gospel. Just clothe and feed the poor, visit the prisoners, that kind of thing. Just don't mention God, or Jesus, or salvation. 

Chances are you've heard mixes of all the above. I doubt any church would teach all one or the other. But it does beg the question - what is the Gospel? 

The word 'gospel' means 'good news', and the good news that Jesus himself shared was both much more simple and much more profound than what you hear from many church pulpits today. 

When Jesus walked the shores of Galilee preaching the Gospel, he wasn't saving souls for heaven, he was bringing heaven to souls. 

Here are some of the records we have of Jesus preaching the Gospel: 

• Mark 1:15 "The time is fulfilled, the kingdom of God is at hand."
• Luke 17:21 "The kingdom of God is within you."
• Matthew 4:17 "Repent, for the kingdom of Heaven has come near."

As Dallas Willard put it, Jesus' gospel was about the present availability of the kingdom of God.

Jesus' Gospel proclamation was accompanied by power. When he announced the present availability of the kingdom of the heavens, it came bursting into the present reality, bringing healing, wholeness, restoration and peace.

The kingdom of God, or, the kingdom of heaven as it's sometimes referred to, is simply the place where God is. As Graeme Goldsworthy puts it: God's people, in God's place, living under God's rule. 

It's not just a future reality, but a present one also. 

You see it's not so much that Jesus is the way to God, but that through Jesus, God comes to us. 

When Jesus sent out the seventy-two disciples, he told them to preach this same Gospel. Specifically he said: "Heal the sick who are there and tell them that 'the kingdom of God has come near to you'" (Luke 10:9). 

The kingdom of God manifests when heaven intersects earth. The disciples excitedly brought back reports of lives transformed. 

By contrast, many street-preachers today stick to selling death insurance. 

The sure-tried fire-and-water method: convict them of their sin and God's wrath, then douse them in a cold bucket of the sinner's prayer and let 'em off the hook. Probably never see them again.

I wonder if a better starting point for preaching the Gospel today would be talking about the availability of God's presence and power like Jesus did?

I mean, if it was good enough for the Son of God...

I wonder if people would be more attracted to a God who loves them and longs to be present with them, rather than a God who is angry with them. 

I wonder if people would be more drawn to the God whose heart is for the renewal and redemption of the entire cosmos, rather than only that of individual sinners?

I wonder if they'd be more interested in hearing about God's coming new creation project and how we can enjoy everlasting life there for all eternity, rather than simply a disembodied life in heaven? (read my last BLOG "What Happens After We Die? New Creation as 'Life After' Life After Death").

I wonder if we simply brought people to a place where they could "taste and see that the Lord is good," as the Psalmist writes, and let God do more of the convincing and convicting and judging (Psalm 34:8)?

God is in the business of changing hearts and transforming people for the good, and his kingdom is presently available to those who whole-heartedly seek after it.

As always though, it's just my two-bob worth.

What Happens After We Die? New Creation As ‘Life After’ Life After Death

I was about 8 or 9 years old when Uncle Jack passed away. He wasn’t really my uncle, but in small towns in country Victoria that’s how it goes with close family friends. I can only describe him through the perceptions of a nine-year-old—kind, warm, encouraging. He called me “sport” and always spoke to me even though there were other adults in the room. I overheard him talking to my step-father one day, and his words have always stuck with me: “He could do anything he sets his mind to that kid, anything.” My chest expanded three inches on the spot. 

The family had an open casket funeral for Uncle Jack, and I remember seeing his body and feeling awe-struck by how utterly devoid of his presence it was. It wasn’t like he was asleep; he was simply ... gone. The part that made him him was no longer there. It was like an empty shell. 

The question I asked therefore was not, “why did he die?” but simply “where did he go?”

My step-father gave me a quizzical glance and put his hand on my shoulder, “he’s passed on son.”

“Yes, but where to?” 

A few glances went around the room, and it dawned on me that my curiosity was mistimed. I was meant to be sad, but I wasn’t, not really. I was absolutely certain, looking at his body. that he wasn’t “dead”, just “gone somewhere else.” 

Or rather, relocated.

The scene has stuck with me throughout the years on my journey through faith to atheism and back again. Strictly speaking, it probably kept me agnostic rather than full blown atheist. If in death something in us is relocated, then there’s somewhere else to which we go, and if that's the case, there's probably someone or something in charge of that place. 

In my recent BLOG I shared a bit of my journey back to Christ through my daughter’s own curiosity about death, but here I want to answer a different question: what happens after we die?

Jesus was crucified along with two criminals. Whilst one was hurling abuse at him ("Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!" Luke 23:39); the other said simply: "Jesus, remember me when You come into Your Kingdom!" And Jesus replied, "Truly I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise" (Luke 23:43).

The word 'pardes' in the Old Testament's language of Hebrew roughly meant 'garden'. Translated as 'park' (Ecc 2:5), 'forest' (Neh 2:8), and 'orchard' (Song of Solomon 4:13). In the Greek translation of the Old Testament used in Jesus' day (called The Septuagint) the word paradeisos was used for the Garden of Eden. So paradise was used as a euphemism for resting in God's presence. 

Jesus told the criminal that it would be THAT DAY, that he would be in paradise, not some distant time in the future. The "you" being the part that survives death, the part of my Uncle Jack that was missing at his funeral. Jesus said it goes somewhere immediately, and not alone, but with him. 

So for believers in Christ, death is simply a relocation to God's presence with Jesus.

The apostle Paul expected to be in Christ's presence immediately upon his death, and he considered the prospect better than life.

Writing from an Ephesian prison he says, "For if we live, we live for the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord. So then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's" (Romans 14:8). And in his letter to the Philippians: "For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labour to me. Yet which I shall choose I cannot tell. I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better. But to remain in the flesh is more necessary on your account." (Phil 1:21-24).  

Paul did not expect to simply cease from existence; nor did he expect to be unconscious or delayed somehow from Christ. 

Paul knew that Jesus' open arms immediately awaited him. 

So after we die, whilst our bodies 'sleep', our disembodied consciousness is relocated to the presence of Jesus. I guess you could say, "we go to heaven."

But the way some talk about heaven can be quite misleading, because this is not the final stop.

This is life after death, but then there is (as N.T Wright calls it), "life after life after death." (Surprised By Hope - N.T Wright).

There is more to come. Something more that the simple phrase "going to heaven" can possibly contain. 

You see, we do go to heaven, but only until heaven comes to earth. 

But that doesn't do it justice either, because the concepts of heaven and earth are radically redefined in the final reality as New Creation. 

The heart of the gospel is that through Jesus the whole world is being set right and ultimate justice will come. The final end-state will a merging together of heaven and earth into what the Bible calls "a new heaven and a new earth." New Creation. A reality that began with Jesus and grows as each new believer is welcomed into the family of God. As Paul states (2 Cor 5:17): "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come! The old has gone, the new is here!" 

Even though we only in part experience that new creation reality in the present time, there will come a day when Jesus will bring this new reality in all its glorious fullness. A reality which he summarises as death being swallowed up in victory.

"The dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality" (1 Cor 15:52-53). 

Here's where we get to life after life after death. 

When Jesus brings this ultimate New Creation our consciousness will again become embodied. Our bodies will be raised up, levelled up as it were, made anew - immortal, whole, an amalgamation of flesh and spirit: Humanity 2.0. Geared for immortal existence in God's presence.

Our final state is not some disembodied soul wandering about the clouds of heaven, it's both a physical and spiritual existence in the New Creation.

There the distinction between the physical and spiritual has disappeared, evil no longer exists, and we will dwell with God (and each other) forever. 

This is the long-awaited for hope of the Old Testament, fulfilled in Christ: "Look! I am creating a new heavens and a new earth, and no one will even think about the old ones anymore. Be glad; rejoice forever in my creation!" (Isaiah 65:17-18).

And it is the final reality described in the final chapters of the Bible, as a long-awaited union between God and his beloved people.

"Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the old heaven and the old earth had disappeared... I heard a loud shout from the throne, saying, "Look! God's throne is now among his people! He will live with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or dying or sorrow or pain. All these things are gone forever" (Rev 21:1, 3-4).

The New Creation is described in terms of perfection: a place where we will rest from our toil, in a perfect new earth, with perfect bodies in a world free of brokenness and sin.

Salvation then, is not just about us humans, it's about the whole creation.

It is a reality for which creation itself longs for. In Romans 8:21-22 Paul says, "creation itself will be set free from from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.
For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now."

What of those who opt out?

The Bible also talks about unbelievers being raised up and embodied in the final day, yet without having been made a new creation in Christ by accepting His atoning sacrifice on the cross, they will not be able to enter the New Creation. Without Jesus as their Lord and Saviour, they will face God's judgement on their own terms. The Bible uses many metaphors to try to describe the prospect of this reality, usually with words like hell, ghenna, the pit etc., but the idea is that of an existence without God - an honouring of the terms they've chosen to live by in this life. I tremble to think of such an experience. But if you were to ask most atheists the idea probably wouldn't bother them much, because they don't know God anyway (nor do they wish to). 

But if the idea does bother you, consider this - Jesus opens his arms to you to offer the alternative. 

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God" (John 3:16-18).

So when life gets difficult, I remind myself of how temporary and fleeting our current life is. 

One day we will live in perfect relationship with the world, with others, with God, and with ourselves. 

We will meet God face to face and enjoy eternal fellowship with others.

I look forward to meeting Uncle Jack again and thanking him for his prophetic words over my life.

I look forward to endless possibilities, limitless knowledge, everlasting joy.

I look forward to enjoying the creation in all its freedom and fullness.

What do you look forward to? What will your eternal reality be? 

The way I see it, you can either have more of the same if you live without Christ, or immeasurably more than you could think, ask or imagine if you live with Him.

Choose Jesus, choose life, choose New Creation, choose limitless possibilities.

As always though, it's just my two-bob worth.

 

My Testimony: How Freud, Penny Lane, & My Seven Year Old Daughter Led Me Back To God.

 

My daughter Violet was seven years old when Penny Lane died. Penny was our beloved Golden Retriever (and yes, she was named after the Beatles’ song). While grieving, Violet became intensely interested in the question of what happens after death. It didn’t make sense to her, that our beloved Penny Lane, who had been around since before she was born, was suddenly and simply… gone. 

I had been wrestling with God for seven years up at that point. Having walked away from my faith after a terrible experience at church. I had then studied World Religions. Philosophy and Anthropology at university, searching for the answer to what was essentially my daughter's question writ large - is there something more than physical life? Is there a God?

But fast forward seven years, when my daughter asked me that question my focus shifted from a concern for truth to a concern for comfort. She was grieving and needed hope. Ironically, although I wasn’t a believer myself, you might say my concern was pastoral. I sifted through all the religious possibilities - Hindu, Buddhist, Sikh, Islam, and settled on Christianity because there lay the most hope. 

“People go to heaven,” I said, “to be with Jesus.” 

“Oh. Okay then.” She replied and went off to play.

I didn't let go of the question quite so easily however ... it got me thinking. 

Freud said, in Future of an Illusion, that he envied the believer for the freedom that their belief afforded them; the practical benefits of believing in a benevolent Father God who providentially orders their lives for the good. The hope of life after death and the comfort of knowing that although the world is full of injustice, it will ultimately be set right by God. 

I must admit, since entering the ministry myself, I have pondered this question more than once: do people on the inside of the faith have as high a view of Christianity as an atheist like Freud?

Although he ultimately thought belief in God a delusion, he recognised the deficit caused by a lack of belief. He had what I call faith envy. 

I’d had faith envy too. 

After I left the church, I seemed to come across Christians everywhere: in the music community, in my university, at the pub. They seemed to me to possess a confidence and self-assurance that I lacked. 

Anyway, back to my daughter's question - "What happens after you die?"

Freud's diagnosis was that Christians greatly benefited from their delusion. I figured the benefits would be real whether Christianity was true or not.

What if I took my family to church so they could enjoy those benefits? Did it really matter what I personally believed? 

I mean, I loathed sport, but still trekked around town every Saturday morning taking the kids here, there, and everywhere because I recognised it was good for them. Was church really that different?

So we started going to church again. 

I insisted on sitting up the back for a quick get-away. During the services I mostly crossed my arms and tried to ignore what was being said. As far as I was concerned, I’d already settled the issue and I lacked the energy to have my cage rattled again.

But a curious thing happened. 

Over the course of a few months, I’m not sure whether I got tired of the energy required to keep my walls up, or whether it was something else, but I began to simply suspend my disbelief.

As I did so I began to feel less assured of my previous convictions. I began to realise just how shaky the ground was on which I was standing. 

The church I had left had serious problems, but was it possible I had thrown out the baby with the bathwater? Was it possible that God really did exist? 

If not, what was this stirring within me, responding to worship and the Word of God being preached?

My original idea of joining the community was working - the children had made friends and the church was welcoming.

My plan to remain aloof and detached was failing.

My heart began to feel strangely stirred by the music, vaguely warmed by the Word. 

This provoked my intelligence into a three-month obsessive pursuit of “the truth”. I pursued God the way I’d been taught in my Arts degree, like an object to be studied, using logic and reason and science. My mind desperately trying to catch up with my heart. To understand, catalogue, illuminate.

I spent each night after work researching, reading Christian apologetics, watching YouTube videos, sorting and sifting through various views and perspectives. 

But I reached an impasse — my mind could only take me so far. 

You can argue eloquently for or against the existence of God easily enough, it turns out. Reaching a conclusion requires something else.

I’d been playing a solo gig in town one night, performing Aussie classics in a pub, singing and playing guitar on autopilot as my mind wrestled with the issues, the reasons for and against, the proofs, the counter arguments. 

I was over it. When I got home, exhausted, in the middle of the night, something inside me broke.

I fell to my knees and silently cried out to God to do what I couldn’t - to make himself known to me. If there were words to my prayer they might have been, “I believe! Help my unbelief!”  

The response was both instantaneous and indescribable. I lacked the Christian conditioning to say that I was filled with the Holy Spirit. 

What I did say at the time was that God’s presence had suddenly filled the room and made me different. 

I described it to a friend like this: "I felt like I was taken apart and put back together again." Something flowing, surging, wave after wave going through me. Jesus' own words resonated deeply with my experience: “Whoever believes in me, as the Scriptures have said, out of his heart shall flow rivers of living water” (John 7:38). 

The experience aside however, the point is, I knew in that moment that God is real, that Jesus is Lord and that the Holy Spirit means business to those who seek.

My seven-year hiatus was over. I was back. I wept with joy. Next the only reasonable words I could think of came to my lips: “God, I am yours.”

All this from my daughter asking a simple question.

It’s been the ride of my life, honestly, with more twists and turns in the eight years following that event than in the thirty something preceding it. I’ve been stretched and challenged in more ways than I could imagine, but through it all, with the very real peace, joy, and freedom from God that Freud envied. 

It turns out Freud was correct about the benefits of the Christian faith, delusion or not.

I want to encourage you therefore, to listen to those small voices that come along, whether it be from a child or something else. 

God is always speaking to you. His voice never stops speaking. In Psalm 19 it says that it goes out to all the earth, His words to the ends of the world.

The seemingly disparate threads of your life are not as accidental as they seem. 

For me, a deceased pet, the curiosity of a child, and the dark musings of an atheist all led me back to God.

I know what you’re thinking — do I really believe God used Freud, my daughter, and my pet dog to get me back into church?

Well there is biblical precedent for God using odd ways to speak to people. I mean, He spoke through a donkey to Balaam the Prophet. If He can use a donkey...

Who or what is God using to speak to you? To nudge you? 

Follow the inquiry, ask the hard questions, step out of your comfort zone. 

It might be that you feel disconnected from church like I did, disconnected from your beliefs. But He never disconnects from you. In Psalm 139 the writer says that God knows every day of your life before one of them comes to be. He's got his finger on the pulse.   

Pursue God and dare to believe. 

For He is as real as your next breath and has been pursuing you since the day you were born.

Why? Well simply because He loves you. He made you, He rejoices over you, and He wants you to come home. 

Life with your Creator God is unbeatable, His presence inimitable.

Why live without?

But as always, it’s just my two-bob worth.

"Bless the Lord, O my soul,

and forget not all his benefits,

who forgives all your iniquity, 

who heals all your diseases, 

who redeems your life from the pit,

who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy,

and satisfies you with good so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's." Psalm 103:1-5.

We Need You! Why Jesus Conscripts Sinners 

Journal Entry. Simon. About 30A.D

I began following Jesus around Galilee a year or so ago, witnessing the power of the Gospel he proclaims, not only in the breathtaking words he says, like "the Kingdom of God is within you!", but also in the demonstration of that reality – people healed from lifelong diseases, demons being cast out, and let us not forget his first one — turning water into wine! We disciples particularly enjoyed that one!

Somehow through Rabbi Jesus, heaven and earth meet, and the rule and the reality of God comes bursting into the present. Through him, the effects of sin and death are reversed, as God's presence brings wholeness, healing, and freedom. Hallelujah! 
 
Sometimes we wonder if it's all too good to be true, but how could we deny it when it is happening all around us? We are excited about what is next. Just the other day, after Rabbi Jesus returned exhausted from spending a day healing the sick, he went to bed, and we all sat up speculating well into the early hours of the morning. 

With him, surely anything is possible! Shall we march on to the capital and overthrow the Romans? Shall we send them back to the hell hole they crawled out of? Shall we take control of the city and watch the people flock in from all over the world as the prophecies come true? “Tremble before him, all the earth!” Psalm 96:9

We will see, I guess. The possibilities flitter across my mind as we trek along the Via Maris. On our right the Sea of Galilee glitters in the afternoon sun, flecked with the fishing boats of our brothers who are out making the most of the afternoon winds which stir up the fish and fill their nets. As we approach Capernaum, a small square building stands resolutely beside the road, its white-washed walls glimmering with the yellow hues of the afternoon sun. 

I spat. Tax collector. I know this one, his name is Matthew, although he's also known as Levi. He is watching the fisherman as they come in, his small eyes darting from their nets to their baskets, coldly calculating, one hand tapping lightly in the window sill, the other scribbling on a ledger. I never could understand how one of our own kind, a Jew, could sell out his brothers to the Romans. Here he was growing fat off our revenues as our little ones starved. 

As we approach him I feel a throbbing in my neck and hear my heartbeat thumping in my ears. I think of the fireballs of Sodom and Gomorrah, and I turn to our Rabbi to make a suggestion. 

But Jesus is already looking at Matthew, a playful smile dancing across his lips. Oh, this is going to be good!

As we walk by, Jesus cups his hands to his mouth and takes a deep breath.

"Follow me!" He cries.

What? Did I hear that right? There's no hint of sarcasm or anything untoward in his tone. He simply cries out and then keeps walking, that small smile still dancing across his lips.

I look over and Matthew is hastily sliding his window shut. It looks like something spooked him for sure. But wait, he's shoving things in a bag, he's bursting out the door off the side, and now he's shambling toward us.

What is going on? 

*** 

The above is a creative extrapolation of just two lines in the Bible. Matthew 9:9-11.

'As Jesus went on from there, he saw a man named Matthew sitting at the tax collector's booth. 

"Follow me," he told him, and Matthew got up and followed him.'

That night Jesus and his disciples ate at Matthew's house and we are told that "many sinners came and ate with him". Not just one. Many. This attracted the attention of the Pharisees and also the disciples of John the Baptist, both of whom challenged Jesus about both the type of people he ate with and also the festive spirit with which he dined. 

Jesus said to them, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick... For I have not came to call the righteous, but sinners."
 
Why?

Why doesn't Jesus choose the religious who have shown excellence in their calling and who have capacity to teach and learn, or disciples like John the Baptist's who are disciplined and self-sacrificing in the service of God?

This is a question that many Christians still struggle with today. 

I recall a time a few years ago when a man from prison visited our church and spent the entire worship set down on his knees, hands in the air, tears streaming unselfconsciously down his lined and weathered face. You could sense the unease in the room.

Another pastor relayed to me that someone had came into a church asking to be baptised because they had came to know Jesus, and the church referred them elsewhere. They weren't what you'd call 'clean cut'. They weren't the type you took home to meet your mother. Their lack of good manners and pedigree might have been an affront to the sensibilities of those already in the church.  

I wonder what Jesus would have done? Probably went to their house and ate with them.

Sinners are chosen by Jesus.
Sinners are comfortable with Jesus.
Sinners are commissioned by Jesus.

I think it's because they know how much they need him. 

They have zero self-reliance. 

One of my favourite ministry moments hails back about four years, when during an Alpha course a young lady in her late twenties suddenly exclaimed to the group: "I found Jesus and he's f#$%ing awesome!"

I reckon Jesus could do more with that attitude than he could with a religious one. 

Jesus can work with addiction.

Jesus can work with guilt and shame.

Jesus can work with uncertainty and fear.

Jesus can work with doubts and questioning.

Jesus can work with bad manners.

Because all these are fertile soil for his grace to take root.

What Jesus can't work with, is pride.

Pride rejects grace. 

Pride denies Jesus, preferring its own efforts.

Prides says, "thanks but I've got this."

Whereas sin is native to a fallen world, pride is something we contrive to cover it up, creating a barrier to the grace of God.

Just as a potter works with soft clay; Jesus calls sinners because they’re malleable.

When Jesus defeated sin on the cross, for once and for all, the power of sin became broken over you and me. We still live with its effects, and we still slip back into old habits now and then, but it no longer has the final word. The cross does. And as our eternal life is formed within us we will turn more and more to that joy of the Spirit and sin will no longer be as attractive. We become more like Jesus so that we we can share his goodness with the world.

Jesus commissions sinners because sinners are comfortable talking with sinners.

He doesn't, after all, only bring salvation TO us, but he brings salvation THROUGH us.

God can use those who have nothing to proclaim except for "Christ crucified" in a powerful and mighty way to spread the Gospel. 

I think back to Matthew the tax collector. I wonder if he's the same one Jesus talks about in Luke 18:13: 'But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, "God, be merciful to me, a sinner!"' 

Matthew would not have been able to go back to making his living. He would have burnt all his bridges to follow Jesus. He had to be all in. 100% or nothing. He had nothing of his own to rely on, turn to, or brag about. The only thing he could've offered people was Jesus and his Gospel.

This is what we, the church, should aspire to.

The alternative is too awful to think about.  A community of people who have it all together and look down on everyone who doesn't. A community that judges people instead of welcoming them. A community that trusts in its own righteousness.

I'm sure you don't know any churches like that. 

For me, I praise God that I am a sinner saved by grace. 

I praise God that He has called me, is in the messy and probably infuriating process of conforming me to the His image of his Son, and that He commissions me to carry his heart and message to others.

That is the only thing I can brag about, and I reckon that's a good thing.

But hey, it's just my two-bob as usual.

 

"EXAMINE YOURSELVES!" What Paul Really Meant Regarding Communion.

What did Paul really mean when he wrote to the Corinthian church saying that they should 'examine themselves before they eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For those who eat and drink without discerning the body of Christ eat and drink judgement on themselves..." 1 Cor 11:28-29? 

Well, first of all, I don’t know because I wasn’t there. So we should always proceed cautiously before making sweeping statements from a letter written to specific audience in a specific place in a specific time. 

Yet …  a quick read of the surrounding passages should alert us to the tragic extent that these verses are (usually) taken completely out of context in church.

Did Paul really mean, (as many a well-meaning yet misleading preacher has put it) that one must search their hearts for unconfessed or unrepentant sin before approaching Communion with Christ, and if not they should refrain from participating?

To you, O well-meaning preacher imploring for our self-examination, haven’t you heard the maxim that ‘one pointed finger means there are three pointing back at you? 

But if you won’t examine yourself, at least examine the passage. 

I heard a brilliant line recently: "If you take the text out of context what are you left with?" Did you work it out? If not hang in there: I'll tell ya at the end.

The heading to this passage (1 Corinthians 11:17-34) in the NIV says, "Correcting an Abuse of the Lord's Supper."

What Abuse Is To Be Corrected At The Lord's Supper?

Is it that sinners are being welcomed to the table? Well … that would put us at odds with many other key passages in the Bible. What about the prophet Isaiah who cried out, “Come all you who are thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat!” Or the Spirit Himself who declares in one of the Bible’s great closing statements: “Come! And let the one who hears say ‘come!’Let the one who is thirsty say ‘come’; and let the one who wishes take the free gift of the water of life” (Rev 22:17).

Are we then to stop sinners partaking in Communion? Should we change Isaiah’s words to “come all you who are perfect,” and the Spirit’s to “let the one who is sinless say ‘come’?!

Without trekking around the rest of the Bible, the present passage alone tells us that this is precisely the abuse that both Paul is warning against, and that our well-meaning preacher mentioned above is perpetrating: drawing boundary lines of distinction within the people of God.

Let me explain. 

Paul is speaking into an issue in the early church which led to conflict between himself and Peter and the church in Jerusalem. The issue was to do with how to blend Jewish and non-Jewish believers together into a new family of God. Did the non-Jewish converts to the Christian faith also have to become Jewish converts? And if they didn’t were they to be considered “less Christian” in some way? Paul's answer was a resounding ‘no!’, and so when Peter began eating at a separate table from the Gentile converts to make a distinction between them, a sort of elitism crept into the church. You can read the story in Acts 15 where Paul confronts Peter about this very issue.

So when Paul says they should “examine themselves”, he's talking about whether or not they are opening up their table to everyone, or whether they are making people eat separately and thereby creating elitist circles in the church.

Paul’s advocating for radical inclusivity and lavish hospitality, not closing the table to people who are not  perfect.

Just read his conclusion: "so then, my brothers and sisters, when you gather to eat, you should all eat together" (1 Cor 11:33).

Is it possible then that to discern 'the body of Christ' is to discern which people comprise it? I.e Who is part of the corporate “Body of Christ” and who is not?

In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul writes about those who make up the church being "his (Jesus') body, the fullness of him who fills all in all." In other words he uses the phrase 'the body of Christ' (here and elsewhere) to refer to Jesus' followers. 

In this 1 Corinthians passage he is raising (again—as in Galatians and elsewhere) the issue of the Jewish/Gentile equality in the Messiah Jesus. 

He's saying in effect, “Look, if you're still going to put divisions between Jewish and Gentile Christians, it's like you're saying Jesus died for nothing. And if you say that you are not accepting the sacrifice and Lordship of Christ and therefore are damning yourselves..."

Again, a good hermeneutical principal is to let Paul interpret Paul. In his letter to the Ephesians he says: "He himself (Jesus) is our peace, who has made us both one and broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility, that he might create in himself one new man in place of the two, by abolishing the law of commandments expressed in ordinances, so making peace, and reconciling us both to God in one body through the cross, thereby killing the hostility" (Ephesians 2:14-16). 

Jews and Gentiles, coming together through the atoning work of Christ on the cross, creating one new redeemed humanity. Old distinctions done away with, all equal in the Lord. This is Pauline theology at its core.

So back to the question: what happens when you take the text out of context? 

That's right, you're left with a con. 

Okay, I'm sure its unintentional on the preacher's behalf, but still...

If someone uses this passage to say "examine yourself to see if you are sinning and if you are, then don't come to the table because you are unworthy..." they are saying the very opposite of what Paul intended. 

This particular passage aside, this instruction doesn't even stand up to basic Evangelical theology. 

For if Jesus is your Lord and Saviour, you are saved by grace through faith, and your sin has nothing to do with it. We all sin, saved or not! Should the one who recognises their sin withdraw from fellowship at the table? Nay! They should rather identify with the humble sinner who beats his chest and says, "God have mercy on me a sinner" (Luke 18:13-14), and of whom Jesus said, "I tell you, this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God." Who was the other man? The Pharisee who said proudly, “God I thank you that I’m not like other people…” In other words, who considered himself pretty good in the eyes of God thank-you-very-much! 

I have spoken with those who stay seated, yearning for Communion with their Risen Lord, as they should, yet withheld from His healing presence by misleading theology. Some do it for months on end, until they feel like they performed well enough that week to deserve it. One person told me through tears that has not had communion for six months, because they weren’t “pure enough”(!). 

I must admit, this ruffles my feathers. 

Also, as a church leader I would not want to be the one coming between our Lord and His precious redeemed.

This is not to say that one shouldn't examine themselves for unconfessed or unrecognised sin before approaching the table of the Lord. It's just not what this passage is about. And to that premise I simply offer a different conclusion: if you find sin (and you should) then approach the throne boldly through grace, with tears of repentance and a heart of worship for your Lord and Saviour who has redeemed you from it, and partake in fellowship with your fellow redeemed sinners with joy and humility. 

If you don’t find sin, then you, my friend should keep your bum firmly planted on your seat until you do. Jesus said: “Healthy people don’t need a doctor—sick people do. I have come to call not those who think they are righteous, but those who know they are sinners” (Mark 2:17).

And for the preacher who continues to draw boundary lines within the community of the people of God —examine yourself! It’s for reasons like this that James writes: “Not many of you should become teachers, my fellow believers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly” (James 1:1). 

Read these verses (1 Cor 11) again in their full severity, but this time in the context that you are one they are addressed to, church leader, not the people in the pews, and you are doing precisely the thing Paul is warning against: not correctly discerning the body of Christ. The passage threatens you with judgment and condemnation. Geez. You're welcome. 

In the meantime, let us practise lavish hospitality, and celebrate the equality of our uselessness in our own strength and ability to save ourselves, and each of us approach the communion table with a heart of joy for our Lord who has forgiven us all, and set us free to together comprise the body of Christ, the fullness of Him who fills all in all.

Amen and amen.

But hey, just my two-bob’s worth as usual.

What Kind Of God? A Kind Kind Of God

A quick Google search reveals the following top ten desirable character traits: honesty, optimism, courage, confidence, creativity, compassion, integrity, patience, discipline, flexibility.

Does that sound like someone you would like to be?
Does that sound like someone you would like to be with?

Of course these aren't chosen in a vacuum but are situated in our culture. These are the traits deemed necessary by the algorithm gods for success in the modern world based on a fast moving life within a zero-sum game where the winner takes all. 

The loser, well ... loses. 

What if our mission was bigger than our cultural maxim of getting rich, finding a mate, pursuing pleasure, and leaving a legacy?

What if, say, the mission was to recreate the world - a new heavens and a new earth, populate it with a regenerated new humanity (that fulfil their original mission of stewarding and ruling over it) and living with them forever? 

This is, incidentally, God's mission according to the Bible! 

What kind of God would be needed to pull that off? 

What would God's top ten traits be?

Well I don't think courage and confidence and discipline would cut it - as cool as those traits are.

I once took my children to a youth event where the preacher shared with them how wrathful and violent God is. After a gory sensory description of a Roman scourging and crucifixion he reached his final climax in a fervent frenzy: if they didn't accept Jesus they would all burn in hell. As the altar call came and a few shaky hands went up around the hall, my youngest - only seven years old at the time - turned to me and whispered, "Daddy, I don't think he knows the same God we do! We should tell him about our God!"

I had to agree with her. Not about telling him. I suspect he was quite happy with his angry god thank-you-very-much. But I did scoop my children up and high-tail it out of there pretty quickly. 

The thing is, the Bible makes no effort to hide who God is. 

John, one of Jesus' disciples simply writes: "God is love" (1 John 4:16).

Not has love, feels love, or shows love. (Although all of those are true).

God IS love.

It's who he is.

In Paul's letter to the Ephesians we read:

'But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ - by grace you have been saved - and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus' (Eph 2:4-6).

Read that again. 

Because of his GREAT LOVE (for us), he is rich in mercy.
Because of his RICH MERCY, he opens his arms to all who spurn him (all of us).
Because of his GRACE (the immeasurable riches of it), he saves us.

And he doesn't stop there.

He makes us alive, truly for the first time, by filling us with his Spirit, and birthing a new creation within us: a life that surpasses natural death.

Then he raises us up, elevating us to kingly status as he draws us out of the depths of our earthly existence and places us into the heights to dwell also in the heavenly plane.

Then he seats us with him, by his side, relaxed, assured, bathing in his eternal presence.

But Paul writes on, telling us why he does all this: "so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus' (Eph 2:7).

He does this all because he is KIND.

Is it just me, or do we not hear much about the KINDNESS of God. 

For that matter, it's not something we value very highly in anybody. 

In all the character traits lists I researched earlier, kindness was not in any of them. 

My guess is that is because kindness doesn't get you very far in the world.

Kindness is considered quant at best, weak at worst.

But back to God's mission - to save and shape a people for stewarding and sharing in his new creation - apparently kindness is a crucial, paramount, and effective way to convey his grace.

Usually when I hear grace spoken about in Christian circles it's in context of God's wrath, as mentioned in my daughter's experience earlier.

But this verse situates God's grace in kindness, not wrath.

What if we started talking about God, not as angry, but as kind?

God is kind. It sounds weird, given its connotations of weakness and quaintness.

Yet according to this verse, kindness is the chosen tool God uses to convey his grace to us, so that we then show it to others (so that in the coming ages he might show...).

What if we spoke more about his kindness in regards to the cross?

 I wonder how many more of those young souls would have responded to a kind God that night out of intrigue and love (as opposed to fear), and not only responded, but enjoyed, grew with, and stayed with that God? I know many, many people who grew up with the idea of an angry god and become lost, as it inoculates them to the true, kind God later on.

What if Jesus died for you, not to check God's wrath, but to convey God's kindness. 

To save you, make you alive, to raise you up, to exalt you - so that you can show God's kindness to others?

He died because of the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward you.

So much grace you can't measure it, and it overflows in kindness.

It seems then, that God's grace is instinctive and natural to his character; it simply flows out. It is not then, a secondary response to his wrath. 

What if we described God as Paul does in Ephesians 2?

Merciful (being rich in mercy), loving (because of the great love with which he loved us), forgiving (even when we were dead in our trespasses), creative & powerful (made us alive together with Christ), a generous (by grace you have been saved), hospitable (raises us up and seats us with him), visionary (so that in the coming ages he might show), graceful (the immeasurable riches of his grace) and ... kind (in kindness toward us).

Now here's a list to aspire to:

Merciful, loving, forgiving, creative, powerful, generous, hospitable, visionary, graceful, and kind.

Here's the God my daughter was talking about. 

Here's the God I know. 

Here's the God who is love.

What kind of God? A kind kind of God. 

But hey, just my two-bob’s worth as usual.