A Rule of Life

“It is a very difficult thing to make a rule for another to live by. The rule which governs my life is this: anything that dims my vision of Christ, or takes away my taste for Bible study, or cramps me in my prayer life, or makes Christian work difficult, is wrong for me, and I must, as a Christian, turn away from it.” J. Wilbur Chapman

Reading this quote this morning challenged me to realise that it’s not always the ‘bad’ things that can do this but sometimes, often, it’s the things that can be considered good and right, the expectations others have put upon us as to how our Christian life should be lived, the normal – that can subtly draw us away from the abiding life.

Midday thoughts

“What can we gain by sailing to the moon if we are not able to cross the abyss that separates us from ourselves?  This is the most important of all voyages of discovery, and without it, all the rest are not only useless, but disastrous.”

Thomas Merton

“Accept me, Lord, as I am, and make me such as thou wouldst have me to be.”

Mary Livingstone
(Missionary in Africa)

“A humble knowledge of thyself is a surer way to God than a deep search after learning.”

Thomas á Kempis

Good Words for Today – Ray Pritchard

Praise lifts us.
Prayer strengthens us.
Trials purify us.
Failure humbles us.
Forgiveness heals us.
Friends encourage us.
God works in all these things for our good.

Blaise Pascal

After he had died, friends of Blaise Pascal, the genius mathematician and physicist and staunch defender of the scientific method, found a note sewn into the lining of his coat. It described his encounter with God in Jesus Christ. My prayer for you today is that you also might have such an encounter….

The year of grace 1654

Monday, 23 November…From about half past ten in the evening until half past midnight.

Fire
‘God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of Jacob,’ not of philosophers and scholars.
Certainty, certainty, heartfelt, joy, peace.
God of Jesus Christ.
God of Jesus Christ.
My God and your God.
‘Thy God shall be my God.’
The world forgotten, and everything except God.
He can only be found by the ways taught in the Gospels.
Greatness of the human soul.
‘O righteous Father, the world had not known thee, but I have known thee.’
Joy, joy, joy, tears of joy.
I have cut myself off from him.
They have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters.
‘My God wilt thou forsake me?’
Let me not be cut off from him for ever!
And this is life eternal, that they might know thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent.’
Jesus Christ.
Jesus Christ.
I have cut myself off from him, shunned him, denied him, crucified him.
Let me never be cut off from him!

Quote – William Stringfellow

Dynamic and erratic, spontaneous and radical, audacious and immature, committed if not altogether coherent, ecumenically open and often experimental, visible here and there, now and then, but unsettled institutionally. Almost monastic in nature but most of all… enacting a fearful hope for human life in society.

I Wish You Enough…

I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright no matter how grey the day may appear.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting.
I wish you enough pain so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.”

from Simple Church Journal

It is always good to review the basics of church which is, by nature, organic and living. Church is the people of God organically connected to God. At Pentecost, when the Spirit breathed upon God’s people, this organic connection came to life. Thus we see terms for the church like: ‘living church,’ ‘body of Christ,’ ‘seed planted that produces fruit 30, 60, 100 fold.’ When church is understood this way, its development becomes less about planning ‘how to build’ and much more about learning to facilitate the life cycle that is already inherent within it. The simple DNA of the living church is evident: 1.  Intimacy with Christ. The abiding living relationship with God is at the core of our life with God and the life that grows out of the church (God’s people). Jesus did not invite us to follow a religion of rules, nor did he mandate an order of service or church structure to follow. He did ask us to follow him. Out of that flows all of the life, joy, and power that we need to live fully in him and for him. 2.  Reaching out with love.  The experience of being loved by the God of the universe produces an outward desire to love and reach others with the same Gospel love. This is not a project nor a program, but a way of life that involves an outbreak of Jesus’ love toward others. 3.  Disciplemaking as a lifestyle. This is not about what we have to give to others, but it is about relationships in which we come alongside people while they discover that God speaks directly to them. We walk with them but the word and the Spirit of God become the teachers. The Bible, indeed, is far more powerful than we realize. It has the power to transform hearts and lives, all by itself, through the energizing of God’s Spirit. 4.  Gathering simply and in a participatory manner. Gatherings are family-based and allow every person to grow spiritually, care for one another, and exercise spiritual gifts. Healthy missional-family gatherings continue to encourage the upward, inward, outward processes of loving God, blessing one another, and reaching out to others. What we do see in Scripture are many different types of gatherings which took place frequently, naturally, and often spontaneously… They took place in normal, everyday settings and they fit into the rhythm of everyday life. 5.  Empower others to go, reach, disciple, and gather. This is the function of ‘leadership’ as it seeks to serve others who are becoming fruitful, vibrant, and reproductive. Everything is given away: spiritual authority, recognition, encouragement, opportunities to minister and serve. This leader empowers others so well that his or her own ministry goes virtually unrecognized. Where does one begin? It is difficult to get away from the idea that there must be a one-two-three blueprint to follow that will allow me to facilitate the growth of ‘a church.’ But it is more about lifestyle than planning and more about listening to God than following someone else’s map. Still, there is an intentionality that can move us forward. These five rhythms become essential to discovering how God would have us walk with him in the growth of his church. There are many tools and methods for walking out each of these rhythms (perhaps a subject for another post), but through prayer and listening, God is able to lead us to those tools and methods that will be best for our context. When we are diligent about walking out these rhythms, God will lead: Godward Rhythm: How can I root myself more deeply in His love? Missional Rhythm: What field(s) am I assigned to sow in? Where is my Calcutta? Who is my next ‘person of peace?’ Discipleship Rhythm: Who has God provided to mentor/disciple me? Who can I invite into a discovery, encounter with God through His word to walk alongside as he/she learns to follow God for himself/herself? Community Rhythm: Who am I called to build one-another community with? Reproductive Rhythm: How am I empowering my disciples & community to do the same (#1 – #4)? Five basic DNA elements of the living church and five rhythms to help guide us. Thoughts? (All quotes are from the Simple/House Church Revolution book.)

What Tolkien did so well, we do so poorly. -Tim Challies

Over the past few weeks I have been reading through The Lord of the Rings, slowly meandering my way through Middle Earth for the umpteenth time. Every time I read the books, I find myself drawn to something different, some new demonstration of Tolkien’s brilliance. One of the strengths that distinguishes his work from other fantasy is its depth. Tolkien did not simply write a story, he created a world. Before he wrote characters and narrative, he created mythology, planets, races, languages, and history. As we read about a small fellowship saving the world from peril, we realize that their actions are the culmination of thousands and tens of thousands of years. It is in their actions that races converge, that prophecies are fulfilled, that ages end and begin again.

In this reading, I have found myself especially impressed by the history of Middle Earth, and I rate this as one of Tolkien’s great successes. But it’s not merely that Tolkien obsessively created a history in its finest details, but that he faithfully sets his characters within it. He makes them small but significant players in a much wider, grander drama. They are always aware of those who have gone before and always thinking of those who will follow. The characters do not stand alone in the story, but always in the shadow of their forebears.

In this way, the narrative often unfolds slowly, looking forward and looking back. Even when there has been the drama of fast-paced action, Tolkien will often slow it right back down. This wonderful, plodding little passage follows close after a chaotic battle:

‘No, you do not understand,’ said Gimli. ‘No dwarf could be unmoved by such loveliness. None of Durin’s race would mine those caves for stones or ore, not if diamonds and gold could be got there. Do you cut down groves of blossoming trees in the springtime for firewood? We would tend these glades of flowering stone, not quarry them. With cautious skill, tap by tap – a small chip of rock and no more, perhaps, in a whole anxious day – so we could work, and as the years went by, we should open up new ways, and display far chambers that are still dark, glimpsed only as a void beyond fissures in the rock. And lights, Legolas! We should make lights, such lamps as once shone in Khazad-dûm; and when we wished we would drive away the night that has lain there since the hills were made; and when we desired rest, we would let the night return.

One of the great strengths of Tolkien’s work is its grounding in history. One of the great weaknesses of the contemporary church is its detachment from its own history. Few of today’s Christians have a clear sense of how the church came to be. They know of Acts and Reformation and Billy Graham, but the rest is a blur. They do not know their forebears, the ones who faithfully proclaimed and finally handed down the faith. They have no grounding in history—their own history.

This is not universally true, of course. I have been among some who cling tightly to their history—Reformed Presbyterians who love the Covenanters, Anglicans who esteem Cranmer and many of his contemporaries, Dutch Reformed believers who honor the men who framed their confessions. (I even went to one of their schools, Guido de Brès High School in Hamilton.) But for many others, they are completely unmoored from the past.

There are many reasons we ought to teach believers their history. History gives us purpose. History gives us hope. History gives us theological grounding. But as much as anything, history reminds us that we live in the shadow of those who have come before and that those who follow will, in turn, look back to us.

The characters in The Lord of the Rings know they are set within a wider drama that began ages prior and will continue ages hence. They are determined to act in ways that honor their forebears and leave a worthy example for their descendants. Their valor is motivated by their understanding that history has called them to this time, this place, and this set of circumstances. Their nobility is inseparable from their history. They speak and live as if every word of the mouth and every tap of the hammer will honor or dishonor those who have gone before and shame or bless those who will follow.

We’d do well to learn from their example. We, too, need to set believers within their history. We, too, need to teach them they are small but significant players in a much wider, grander drama. They must always be aware of those who have gone before and always think of those who will follow. They do not stand alone in the story, but always in the shadow of their forebears. What Tolkien did so well is what what do so poorly.

St David’s Day

The Desert Fathers’ creative subversion, their simple and radical renunciation, cut powerfully through the subtleties of religion and reminded ordinary people that behind all the argumentation was the simple Gospel challenge: “If anyone wants to be a follower of Mine, let him renounce himself, take up his cross and follow Me” Matt 16:24

David (Dewi) imitated the ascetic ways of the Desert Fathers establishing 10 monasteries mostly in Wales. Menevia, now St David’s in Pembrokeshire, being the main one. Notable statement – ‘They (his monks) should labour so hard that they want only to love one another. There should be no conversation beyond what is necessary’

The Priceless Gift in Every Trial – David Mathis

Thinking of some particular friends who are going through heavy trials at the moment…

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds . . .(James 1:2)

Few stories turn heads like solid joy in the midst of deep pain. Not only is this kind of unshakeable happiness a distinctively Christian experience, but it also amounts to one of the most powerful witnesses we can make before an unbelieving world.

It’s one thing to describe joy-in-trial from the outside and ponder it in theory, but it is something distinct to actually walk through it ourselves, experiencing it from the inside, in practice — paddling in the sea billows of sorrow, as one who is hurting and desperately wants the difficulty and pain to go away.

In and of themselves, our hardships are emphatically not joyful. That’s part of what makes them hard. What could it mean, then, in circumstances like these, to “count it all joy”?

Not Only Joy

When James charges us to “count it all joy,” he does not mean it all — all our pain, all our trials, all our hardship — is joy in and of itself. Pain is pain, not joy. Trials are trying, not sources of pleasure. Rather, what James has for us — and what the gospel of Christ provides — is a lens on life, and a true vantage point on reality, through which even life’s most painful trials have a vital part to play in our joy.

And not just “even,” but “especially.” In God’s strange and wonderful ways of ruling this world, life’s most painful trials serve a special purpose for our good. God often draws his straightest lines from life’s greatest difficulties to our deepest and sweetest joys. And not just in the long run, but even in the midst of trial. When trials assault our surface pleasures, we’re pressed to consider our deepest, fullest, richest treasures — and to tap those roots for sustenance in ways we simply do not when all is well.

James does not say, “Count it only joy.” We wince. We wail. We hurt. We ask, “How long, O Lord?” God does not expect us to receive our trials as only joy. In fact, Christians, of all people, should be most ready to receive pain as pain, tragedy as tragedy, trauma as trauma. We count, or reckon, our trials as joy, because we don’t simply feel them naturally to be so.

Not Just Tiny Trials

Don’t think that James only has little trials in view here. He says “trials of various kinds” because he means the big ones, too. It can be easy to see how God is at work in life’s little inconveniences, but our greatest tragedies press the hardest, darkest questions on our soul.

Has God abandoned me? Is he really in charge and also good? Is he even there?

James will not have us relegate his charge to “count it all joy” simply to the easy stuff. The very issue at stake is the hardest things — the “trials” of tragedy, loss, distress, despondency, and long-term despair.

Why Count Pain as Joy?

Verse 2 may be straightforward enough, but our souls need more than just a command to own this and see it come to life in us. Our minds and hearts need reasons, or at least a reason. Which is exactly what James supplies in what immediately follows.

We could rehearse many of the clear biblical reasons why we can “count it all joy” when we encounter various trials. “We know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28). We can write over every trial, “This light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison” (2 Corinthians 4:17). And we can say with the apostle, “I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us” (Romans 8:18). Or with Jesus, “Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven” (Matthew 5:12).

But James has something particular in mind: “for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness” (James 1:3).

God Keeps Us Through Trial

“Steadfastness” is not a word we use frequently today, and so likely this does not feel especially compelling at first glance. Another word for it would be endurance. Endurance on its own isn’t necessarily desirable (for instance, enduring in error). What makes it compelling is what we endure in. And what James has in view is very clear: faith in Christ. And for Christians, enduring in faith is what life is all about. If we do not endure in faith, we will be on the wrong side of what matters most in the universe: being right with God, and enjoying him forever, in Jesus.

In other words, one of the things God is doing when he tests our faith is he is preserving our faith. When he lovingly brings trials into our lives — and he does so lovingly for all who are in Jesus — he is working for us, and in us, one of the greatest goods imaginable. When he tests us, he is taking action to keep us. And he keeps us not just by protecting our present level of faith, and not just by growing, enriching, developing, and maturing our faith. But in testing our faith, he is keeping it alive.

God’s preserving work in us through our pain and difficulty is essential to what matters most, and James makes that connection explicit: “Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him” (James 1:12).

Faith does not flourish when it lies untested. It atrophies when it goes unexercised. And eventually it dies. So, when God loves us with his saving love, and gives us saving faith, he commits, because he cares for us, to inject our lives with various trials to train, grow, sweeten, strengthen, and mature what matters most in us. Our “various trials” in this life are not superfluous to our enduring in faith. And they are not just threats to losing our faith. They are one of God’s essential means through which he preserves the faith he has given us and keeps us as his own.