Peter’s story is our story

Matthew 26:31-35
"Then Jesus told them, "This very might you will all fall away on account of me, for it is written: "I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered. But after I have risen, I will go ahead of you into Galilee." Peter replied, "Even if all fall away on account of you, I never will." "Truly I tell you" Jesus answered, "this very night, before the rooster crows, you will disown me three times." But Peter declared, "Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you." And all the other disciples said the same."

Peter  confidently declared he would never deny Jesus but Jesus said he would - not once but three times before the night was out. What made Peter so confident he would not and why did he do so in the end? ( Of course he subsequently redeemed himself with his martyrdom)

Peter’s story indirectly tells us about the nature of man. Original sin caused man to be cursed with death. It is that same curse that causes more sin because we fear death - we cling to life desperately wanting to live longer and in the process, we may even deny the very existence of God. In Peter’s case, he denies association with Jesus when he fears for his life.

Peter had been at Jesus’ side for a long time. He must have seen enough miracles to believe Jesus was no mere rabbi. He had been touched by the Word, enough to give up everything to follow Jesus. Yet, at that final stage, when it came to the crunch Jesus knew and predicted Peter’s reaction.

Peter’s declaration (and the other disciples as well) is a warning for us. Why? Because this declaration was done in the comfort of a peaceful setting, the Last Supper where all the disciples were enjoying fellowship with each other and with the Lord. Peter probably meant what he said too. What could go wrong? He was probably starting understand who Jesus really was. And maybe he thought that nothing would happen to Jesus. He was the Messiah wasn't he? What harm could come to Him? Nothing was at stake in that moment. And in such circumstance it is then easy to profess faith and loyalty.

If Peter, who knew our Lord personally in the flesh, could deny Him subsequently, how much more in danger are we? As Christians in our country today, we are like those disciples at the supper. We are blessed in so many ways as we live peacefully and comfortably, able to worship without fear of persecution. We declare our faith publicly, despite a modern liberal culture that venerates the intellectual atheist and ridicules Christians for being weak and simple-minded (And if we are honest, we might hesitate to speak up in such liberal company - and that is a post for another day)

So is it really that difficult to imagine a scenario in which we may deny Jesus? (The movie Silence by Martin Scorcese really brings this point home as it depicts how the early Japanese Christians were forced to recant their faith or face death.) What brought about this epiphany that we might not be very different if placed in a similar situation?

A recent conversation about the war in Gaza turned to how the Palestinians were really unwanted and unliked by so many (including fellow Muslims and Arabs). They were seen as troublemakers. Other examples of such stereotypes spring readily to mind. Germans during the Nazi era. The Japanese during the occupation of Singapore. They were/are evil people - there are Christians who even refuse the second great commandment to love everyone, saying they will never forgive these people. If Christ died for the most wretched sinner, how can Christians deny forgiveness to anyone?

It is easy to stereotype and demonise (de-humanise) because it simplifies things in our minds. To an extent, it is also a defence mechanism, to justify our own righteousness and supposed superiority. “We are not like that. We will never be like that.” We dare not contemplate that we are capable of such evil. We freely confess the’ easy’ sins in our lives, but we firmly reject the notion that we are capable of the horror of such extremes of killing, murder, and genocide. 

Are all Palestinians troublemakers? Did all Germans support Hitler? Did all Japanese support their imperialist ethos? (just watched an early Kurosawa film “No regrets for our youth” that covers this part of their history). Clearly not, if we give it any serious thought. Christians also understand that we are all sinners, and in that sense, no one can claim superiority of any one group (ethnic or some other distinction) over another. No one can claim with any certainty that they would behave differently.

So then, how do such regimes gain power? Some people definitely supported these regimes and profited, either financially or by gaining influence and power. And those would be the Judases of their era. The other necessary condition is that not enough people resisted or opposed them or did not succeed. And maybe some were persuaded to be more enthusiastic when presented with the early successes of the wars. Who doesn't want to be on a winning team?  I believe the majority were simply cowed or suppressed by those in power. Faced with persecution, prison and death, they acquiesced. They kept silent or looked the other way.

A Taiwanese friend once took issue with a commentator's view that if really pushed to the wall and without support from allies, Taiwan would have no choice but to submit to reunification. That friend said, "We will fight to the death!" (I suspect it was rhetoric more than anything). That is something said in the comfort of a hypothetical (albeit a very real possibility) scenario and even if you believe it yourself (at the time, like Peter), it is unlikely most would choose that option.

In a world where many believe this life is the only one we have, the fear of death or loss of status (in my opinion, loss aversion is the most powerful force in the world today) is a powerful motivator (or demotivator depending on your perspective). We sin because of the trappings of life. We fear missing out because we think this is all there is. Or at least it is all we know at the moment. And so we want to live life to the fullest, which is not in itself wrong. It is the circumstances we find ourselves in which tests whether we pursue enjoying the fruits of His creation in the right way. Gratitude, and not greed for more, is the key.

This is where the early Christians provide a wonderful example of the opposite worldview. There was absolutely no material benefit for holding on to their faith. On the contrary they faced persecution and death. It is to the modern mind, almost unthinkable that Christianity would survive these odds. But as Timothy Keller said in one of his sermons, only Christianity (of all the faiths) satisfied both the intellectual and existential demands of any valid worldview/religion. Early Christians were not simpletons who simply believed because it made them feel good - it was a likely death sentence for something they believed but could not see nor prove to anyone - an eternal life. So why did they persevere? They heard the direct testimonies of those who witnessed the resurrection and other miracles. They saw the apostles being martyred and for what? The apostles did not get rich but they kept preaching that Jesus died and was resurrected, and were willing to die for that. And that is the intellectual credibility and rigour that an atheist would have to overcome.

So in Peter's story we get almost a complete picture of all of our human responses to Jesus. We believe, because the Holy Spirit touched our hearts. We grow in faith because we start to recognise His impact on our lives - an answered prayer, an unasked for blessing. We believe that nothing will trouble us if God is with us, and yet we doubt when things do not go our way, and that's perfectly understandable. We forget His goodness when we are threatened. But He is merciful and will bring us home to Him eventually if we do not turn away.

Credit

“I became a servant of this gospel by the gift of God’s grace given me through the working of his power. Although I am less than the least of all the Lord’s people, this grace was given me: to preach to the Gentiles the boundless riches of Christ, and to make plain to everyone the administration of this mystery, which for ages past was kept hidden in God, who created all things. His intent was that now, through the church, the manifold wisdom of God should be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly realms, according to his eternal purpose that he accomplished in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Eph 3:7-11

What is the source of our success? It is surely because we have been blessed by God. It is very tempting to think we succeed through our abilities, our intellect, our decisions, our choices.

And if we stop there, we are merely serving our own pride. We need to go deeper. How did we come upon these abilities? First, a slight digression. What is success?

Does rising to the top of your profession (or somewhere in the vicinity) constitute success? Most would not argue with that. I’m excluding of course a career in crime. And maybe politics as well. Heh. What about being a successful influencer with millions of followers? I guess it depends on the content, and the intent. (Note to self: this is actually useful for my coaching. If the focus is on the journey rather than the destination, we are more likely to achieve the right type of success that’s more meaningful and sustainable)

Ultimately it comes down to whether our success is an end in itself or if it’s a vessel, a gift, a means for something else. If we are not careful, it’s easy to rationalise that the success is the end that God wants for us. After all, even a social media account dedicated to Christian content can succumb to the temptation that it should be edgy, provocative and controversial to get more views. More views must mean greater success right? 

But it would not feel right. This is where those of us who are more objective or detached from the ‘success’ need to provide counsel because those most invested in the success would find it difficult to see clearly.

Let’s get back to the more fundamental question I asked earlier . What are these’ gifts’ we think God has blessed us with so that we can be successful? And it is definitely a thing.

“And he has given both him and Oholiab son of Ahisamak, of the tribe of Dan, the ability to teach others.”

‭‭Exodus‬ ‭35‬:‭34‬ ‭NIV

As I come back from London and take on another new chapter in my life, I pray that this is what He has directed me to and equipped me for. I have said many times that I wanted to be a trainer, just that my bosses didn’t really listen to me when I was in the department. And in the latter half of my career, it wasn’t really an option though all leadership positions carry that responsibility, even if it isn’t usually laid out in the job description.

How do I know that training was what He meant for me to do? I think it is partly that He gave me the ability to see that the need existed. I don’t mean that I’m the only one, or one of a few, who can be a trainer. But it is probably true that not many want to do this - except as a retirement gig when it’s one of few choices available. And it is also partly true that senior management in many organisations often put good people who might be great trainers in operational roles because they’re more valuable there in the short to medium term. Needs must.

I believe He also gave me the desire to serve others, and it is how I have tried to develop my officers, even though it isn’t always appreciated - or maybe I’m not that good. When they submit work to me, I ask questions and provide comments - both to understand their thought processes and for them to understand where I’m coming from. And I hear feedback that some don’t like it. It’s more work for me actually but I do want to help them.

There are also signs, though maybe not obvious at the time, that He gave me the words to provide guidance and direction in specific situations and incidents. He certainly blessed me with the words when I was asked to provide an article for the civil service magazine at short notice. And in some cases the words might even be costly to me personally (in the sense that I may appear naive, or too blunt or whatever) but they served a larger purpose. Of course the converse is also true. I have said things to protect myself when I should have say, taken one for the team. (This does not negate the point. The realisation that I could have done better, is key.)

And how do I know what gifts I have been blessed with? How do others know? It isn’t like in The Matrix, where you can download some software into your brain and then instantly have the ability to fly a a helicopter. God does not zap us with the gift. I think. At least He does not in most cases. Even in the verse above, it isn’t explicitly stated how Bezalel and Oholiab got the gifts.

It is I think a combination of different circumstances in our lives that lead us to develop these gifts. God may open some doors for us that we didn’t think of at the time, or didn’t think they were important. Or He may keep some doors we really wanted open, shut for a while. Would I be a better trainer if I had gone into it earlier in my career? Unlikely, since my experience would be narrow and limited. Did I even know there was such a thing as coaching? Not until I was given the opportunity to be coached. And then given the opportunity to be trained as one, which led in turn to acquiring the very challenging skill of learning to listen without judgement, without getting ahead of the conversation. It is still a challenge but something I’m more aware of.

Even the difficult circumstances we find ourselves in, provide new opportunities. It is in our response to them that we also learn new skills and get new perspectives. The tough times I have faced at senior levels of leadership mean that I have more stories that I can share so that others can benefit.

I’m excited at this new chapter coming up as it appears that things are coming to fruition and I get the sense that I can fully fulfill the plan He has for me, or at least one of the plans. May I glorify Him through my work.

“In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.”

Matthew 5:16 NIV

Origins of racism

““Look,” he said to his people, “the Israelites have become far too numerous for us. Come, we must deal shrewdly with them or they will become even more numerous and, if war breaks out, will join our enemies, fight against us and leave the country.””

‭‭Exodus‬ ‭1‬:‭9‬-‭10‬ 

I saw a video recently that suggested that the roots of anti-Semitism lay in the fact that the Jews have always become too successful wherever they are. For me this has become the most compelling argument, and also explains racism in general. The easiest example close to home are the anti-Chinese riots in Indonesia that erupt every so often.

There are other theories about the origins of anti-Semitism e.g. they killed Christ, and some of it is more modern such as their treatment of the Palestinians but the verses in Exodus provide the earliest description of such a movement. 

Today, right-wing politicians make increasingly bold statements that echo such sentiments, and tap into such fears. MP Enoch Powell said in 1968 that Britons were becoming “strangers in their own country” and was kicked out of the shadow Cabinet. The current PM Starmer used the unfortunate phrase an “island of strangers” to talk about the same issue of immigration and it was naturally compared to Powell’s speech.

The theme about the success of others leading to resentment is the easiest explanation. And thus we come back again to the issue of coveting and fear of loss. God can bless us abundantly, in ways we don’t even think about - our health, a roof over our heads, a stable environment in the home, in the office and in the country etc. But we tend to end up far more preoccupied with comparison ( the thief of joy, as the cliche goes) with others over the size of our homes, cars, holidays and such.

Who is your king?

“But they shouted, “Take him away! Take him away! Crucify him!” “Shall I crucify your king?” Pilate asked. “We have no king but Caesar,” the chief priests answered.”

‭‭John‬ ‭19‬:‭15‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Something struck me when I read or heard this verse recently.

The US is becoming a very dangerous place where truth no longer matters. All that matters to Americans is where you stand on Trump. (I think for the rest of the world, that is pretty much a foregone conclusion) Is he their king? Indeed Fox News even had someone asking if he was the biblical Moses. Not that the question even made any sense but that does not matter.

Trump is Caesar, and in this analogy he is also Pilate. He is the type of king for whom the truth does not matter, justice does not matter. All he wants is your fawning loyalty and if you give it to him, he will give you what you want (as long as it doesn’t undermine his power).

I commented previously on the idea propagated by some in the Christian community during his first term that he was anointed by God, despite 'evidence' to the contrary (depends on what we mean by 'anointed'.) It does not matter. Trump does not need to see that there is a significant community out there saying this. All he needs is the seed of the idea planted in his mind and he will exploit it to the maximum. The media will help him amplify it. The recent picture of him in the Pope’s garb is another example. Nothing is too outrageous, and some point out that he is constantly stretching the boundaries of what is considered acceptable. To normalise the extremes, so to speak.

So in a sense, Trump isn't the problem - sooner or later, someone like him would have tapped into the same sentiments that he did. His 'genius' was that he was the first one willing to go further than anyone had before - to reach into the darkness of our hearts, to tap into sin.

I believe the problem for some Christians who endorse Trump is that they believe he is the right candidate because he says what they want to hear. The Jews who wanted Christ dead were willing to acknowledge anyone who could fulfill their wish, and Pilate gave them what they wanted.

But that is the easy conclusion and not that helpful in a sense because unless we identify the cause, we may fall into the same traps. The real question is why do they hold these beliefs? For the Jews who wanted Christ's crucifixion, it was because He was a threat to them, their status, their authority. He did not fit their description of who the Messiah was supposed to be and what He would bring.  He took away their ability to determine the outcome - they forgot who the real authority and power should be.

It was the fear of loss, one of the most powerful human motivations. The same holds true I think, for Christians who back Trump. What do they fear losing? The debates about LGBTQ, about transgenders, about abortion - these are all issues Christians hold dear and rightly so and in a sense I understand the concerns that Christians are losing their voices in the media/society as the liberal left became more militant in shutting down debate. They felt betrayed by the Democratic leaders and felt Trump was their only option (the other tragedy is that in such a 'democratic' system, they had no other choice but a seriously flawed candidate).

To drill down deeper, this fear is in a sense the fear of loss of status. This is a fear common across what was once Christian Western society that has drifted (or been pushed) into atheism. Christian beliefs are constantly mocked as being archaic and the refuge of the simple-minded. Unhappiness with this state of affairs is a very human response. No one likes being in the minority, not being in the “in group”. 

But we have a different destination, and it does not matter if our current “status” makes us the target of mockery and scorn. It does not mean of course that we take perverse pride in this, but to simply understand that it is the nature of sin. And the best way to overcome this is to remember the early Christians who were a persecuted minority. Did they embrace those who would retaliate against their persecutors? I’ve no doubt some did. And they would have lost. Betting on an earthly king will only lead you astray. The early church let their faith do the talking. They held fast to who their real king was.

The story has not ended

 “Then Joseph said to his brothers, “Come close to me.” When they had done so, he said, “I am your brother Joseph, the one you sold into Egypt! And now, do not be distressed and do not be angry with yourselves for selling me here, because it was to save lives that God sent me ahead of you. For two years now there has been famine in the land, and for the next five years there will be no plowing and reaping. But God sent me ahead of you to preserve for you a remnant on earth and to save your lives by a great deliverance.”

‭‭Genesis‬ ‭45‬:‭4‬-‭7‬ ‭NIV‬‬

In our darkest moments, this is a good reminder. God has a plan for us. Sometimes it means not giving us what we want. Sometimes it means suffering. Sometimes we are persecuted, bullied, oppressed. Sometimes we go down pathways, unsure where our destination is.

But even in such moments, we need to trust that some good will or is happening. The good may not be for us at that moment. (Joseph lost his family but went on to save a nation from famine, and in the process, regain his family.) Perhaps someone is more deserving. And that is God’s justice, if we are open to His message. What we feel we deserve, is often a product of our coveting. We are often fixated on ourselves, not on what God’s plan is. He loves us all, not just our individual selves. We are part of His team.

And if we find peace, we are far more likely to see the greatness of His plan for us, far more likely to fully embrace and realise what it is when it does happen to us. The Bible does not really tell us I think, how or when Joseph came to this insight but we know he must have because of how he treated and tested his brothers when he next saw them. He saw that he was part of a greater plan (even if he didn’t know what lay ahead), and that there might be redemption for his brothers.

And when it happens, wouldn’t it wonderful to see that moment as part of His continuing grace for all of us? We have not arrived, the story is yet to be completed, and there will be other blessings (and “disappointments”) along the way. The hope is that something changes in our hearts and in our perspectives so that we no longer see disappointments, but merely see them as rest stops, as opportunities for reflection, to try and discern what His plan is for us over the horizon.

Romans for everyone 1:1-17 (Part 2)

What is the gospel or good news Paul describes in this expanded greeting?

It is that salvation is at hand, available to all who believe that God sent his Son to grant us grace, that we are forgiven for our sins through faith.

In verse 5 Paul uses the term 'believing obedience' to depict the goal of the grace and apostleship which Paul and others had received. What does 'believing obedience' look like in a Christian's life?

To live according to God's commands such as his commandments, above all loving all others and telling them the good news. This means eschewing efforts to earn our own salvation through works. It means living a life freed from the pursuit of self-interest since our eternal reward do not lie in this world.

Why would news about the faith of the Roman church have spread far and wide?

It could be that they persevered despite being severely prosecuted, for choosing to worship

Paul had not himself founded the church in Rome or visited there previously. But as Romans 16 will tell us he had friends and relatives there. Why else does Paul want to visit the Roman Christians so desperately?

V11 Paul wants to encourage them, to impart a spiritual gift. A gift of faith, in order to harvest v12

Caesar's messengers didn't go around the world saying, "Caesar is lord, so if you feel you need to have a Roman Empire kind experience, you might want to submit to him." Jesus' messengers (or apostles - literally meaning 'sent ones') didn't say something indecisive like that about Jesus either.

In this context, how has Paul already, in this first chapter, proclaimed a rather risky message that might have tempted or others to be 'ashamed of the good news'?

It is that salvation is available by a simple act of faith. Faith that Christ is Lord. This declaration means all other loyalties including those expected of citizens, are secondary.

How are we tempted to be ashamed of the good news in our own society?

Faith is seen as anachronistic, a refuge of the weak and intellectually inferior. We are weak and feeble in our attempts to learn and defend our faith, especially when faced with “giants” who mock and ridicule what they may not understand. Alienation and distrust of all authority rules the day - which is understandable and to be expected. That after all, is the very nature of sin as man seeks to make himself god.

The Greeks, who had ruled the world centuries before the Romans, divided the world into two: Greeks and the rest. They called the rest 'barbarians' probably because their languages sounded like meaningless mumblings. For a true Greek. the Romans counted as barbarians. But it is a different division of the world that occupies Paul for the rest of the letter. Jews divided the world into two as well: Jews and the rest. They referred to the rest sometimes as 'the Greeks", because as far as they were concerned, the rest of the world was Greek-speaking.

How does the good news address the divisions in Rome which Paul highlights in verses 14-17?

The good news makes clear that all are sinners, Jews and Gentiles alike, and salvation is available to both through the simple act of faith. There is no inherently superior group that is chosen for salvation. Paul also makes the point that he owes a debt to both Jews and Gentiles - surely the Holy Spirit is speaking through him and making an important point.

Does your church reflect the racial barriers common in your community or does it transcend them? Explain how and why.

It transcends them in the way we’ve reached out. I’ve joined groups that served the needs of foreign workers who are different ethnically and religiously. We welcome all to our services.

Verse 17 introduces the key word righteousness or justice, which has the same root. the biblical idea of God's justice is that he will put right all the wrongs of the world. He promised to do this in a covenant he made long ago to Abraham and his family, a promise ultimately realised in Abrahams' great descendant Jesus.

How does the good news about Jesus show God's justice?

God’s justice is perfect and will not be compromised, unlike human justice in the courts of this world. It means all sin will face retribution and without Christ’ sacrifice, we will all be condemned. Instead, we have salvation because He loves us despite our sin - all we need is faith.

God has been faithful in keeping his covenant. Now we are called to have faith ourselves in response, as Paul highlights in verse 17. In so doing we enjoy a salvation (v 16) that provides a rescue from the bonds of death. This means not that we'll all end up in a disembodies heaven, but that God will rescue the entire creation from corruption and decay - and that he will give all his people new bodies, like Jesus' risen body, to love gloriously within his new world.

In addition to providing a future hope, how does salvation also provide a rescue for us from a present reality?

The hope is for our physical future selves. The rescue from present reality is that we are spiritually reborn, and we can face this world with a new-found perspective of gratitude. We no longer despair and instead we understand the world better as we come to terms with sin and how it infects everything and everyone. We know now there is a cure.

P.S. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. Our present reality is that we have become more aware of the injustice that exists, that go unpunished because of the corrupting nature of sin and the decay it brings to everything it touches. For a while, many were led astray by the promise of liberalism, that man can create a better, more just world. End racism and discrimination. End misogyny and other prejudices. If these truths are self-evident, why is there still rampant injustice?  Ultimately even the well meaning become corrupt because at the heart of it, it is about power. 

Irrelevance Part 3

As is often the case when I lapse into despair, I find comfort when I am not really looking for it.

I turned to my favourite podcast by Tim Keller. It is quite amazing that often, the podcast episode I listen to at the time uncannily speaks directly about what's troubling me then.

This episode was titled "Wonderful Counselor" and covered verses in Hebrews Chapters 3-5. Keller makes the point that Hebrews was written for a people who were facing tough times and on the verge of giving up. A main theme is that "life in this world is a journey... through a wilderness." and that the only way to get through it is by getting counselling. (The irony is that I am holding the designation of Counsellor here, and I need counselling). 

The writer of Hebrews is telling them (and us) that we are living in the wilderness - like the desert the Jews were wandering in for 40 years. Sure it is not the same type of desert, but it is a desert just the same in terms of the lack of things that provide real satisfaction, that deep meaning I wrote of in the previous post. Everything that might give us happiness (even spouses, family etc) is transient for we will perish eventually. God also seems to be absent because we are not getting what we want and in the process it can be very easy to harden our hearts against Him.

And that got me thinking as well about my time here. This is a wilderness here. Faith is in retreat, under assault and the foundations of society appear to be coming apart at the seams. Despair becomes second nature and it is a struggle to fight against it. It is deeply insidious and slowly comes over you. It is why I did not recognise it at first because my own faith provided some protection but over time, that resistance gets worn down. It is also no great surprise that mental health issues are so commonly discussed here as a big threat because the only true solution faith, has largely been discredited. People scramble around for solutions (that will give them their raison d'etre, their great meaning in life) and come up with stuff that circle the issue but can never get to grips with it.

But the part that spoke unexpectedly to me was related to the earlier point about how even things that would appear to be closest to the actual answer, like our family and friends, cannot give us the counselling that enables the spiritual rest we are looking for. And the reason is that only God can provide both types of counselling we need. Keller speaks of the ministry of truth and tears.

Jesus is the ultimate counsellor because He can speak the truth to us when we need it, and He is also able to shed tears with us when we need the compassion - Keller illustrates this in referencing John 11 when talking about Jesus' very different response to the same statement by both Martha and Mary when they said their brother would still be alive if Jesus was there earlier. And He can do it because He has the ultimate credibility - He has the authority to speak the truth, and He has suffered for our sins to be able to fully empathise when we are in despair.

Life often presents us situations that require one or the other. Sometimes we just need to hear the hard facts from our spouse, our parents, our friends - without caveats, without them pulling their punches. Because to do so otherwise means that they are not really helping. But sometimes we just need a listening ear and empathy, not a hard rebuke. Most of us are good at one or the other, or maybe decent at both, but we cannot be the wonderful counsellor that all people need.

This is also why the modern obsession to find the love of one's life, that one person who will fulfill this wonderful role if you are both to grow together, results in so much pain and suffering. Because we seek a perfection no human can provide. Nor are we able to be that perfect person.

It has been illuminating for me in that while I always knew or guessed that the answer to my troubles would lie in the Word, this episode has directed me to a deeper truth, a deeper understanding.

And it has given me insight as well into my next role as a trainer and coach. This new perspective about truth and tears really gives me a clearer description of the foundation that I rely on. The style of coaching I’ve learnt is about asking questions to get to a truth that has meaning for the client. This is done without judgement on my part, but it must evoke a feeling in them that they have come to a clear unbiased view of the truth that resonates for them. And sometimes this only comes about when I ask hard questions. At the same time, I can show empathy where appropriate, when they face situations that I’ve come across in my long career. I can describe the emotions I felt when encountering those very same predicaments, so that they know someone shares their pain, that they are not alone.

This feeling that no one understands your pain is a very human tendency. Tolstoy famously wrote, “All happy families resemble one another, but each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way “. The mistake with this quote I think is to read it literally. The deeper truth or real truth lies in his sentiment.

Irrelevance Part 2

What's with this irrelevance focus of late?

It has been a topic simmering in my subconsciousness for a while now, and I only just realised it when a recent incident proved to be the trigger that brought it to the surface. What is this irrelevance in the first place?

As always, Tim Keller's podcasts proved invaluable. One of the key ideas that his sermons revolve around, is the idea that all of us, seek meaning and validation in our lives. I am sure others have come to the same conclusions but he's the one who has influenced me the most so... It is this constant search for significance that drives all human behavior. There is a void within our soul that we yearn to fill because we sense intuitively that we were meant for something greater, that there is a reason for our existence. 

We want our existence to mean something, our efforts to make a difference to someone somewhere (doesn't have to be the world). We dread, no we fear being insignificant (irrelevant) - that our short time in this world is just a chasing after the wind. The book that really drives this home is of course Ecclesiastes. The lament in Ecc 1:2 "Meaningless! Meaningless! Everything is meaningless." is not just a cry of frustration. It is also a cry for help.

There are a few main paths we can take in our search for this. Some decide that influence and power over others is the way and so they seek superiority by accumulating wealth and status. Others find a cause that essentially fulfills the same objective about finding some universal truth - whether it is climate change, animal rights, LGBTQ or any other political cause. Many of these are worthy causes but they are also the most prone to excesses. Those who champion a certain perspective, but feel insignificant or unheard or powerless to make any effective change, are liable to lash out in their fury and anger. Just look at the recent cases of those who have carried out terrorist attacks - many of them write manifestos detailing their frustrations.  They are not just out to cause mayhem, but they come to some misguided conclusion that violence is the only way to make their voice heard. They will not be ignored.

Thankfully most of us, find less extreme ways to channel our energies. It may be a passion, a hobby that proves we are 'better', that we 'get it', that we are 'hip'. Indeed, this is the foundation on which social media is built. And some of us are fortunate enough to find some labour that fulfills us. Ecclesiastes 3:22 "So I saw that there is nothing better for a person than to enjoy their work, because that is their lot. For who can bring them to see what will happen after them?" 

I have been sufficiently blessed for large chunks of my career to find fulfillment in my labours.  Of course there have been low points, which I have shared with you often. But even in those moments, I have always managed to find a silver lining - there were still some who valued what I could contribute. I still mattered, albeit in a limited way. But these last few years, without any real support, without anyone to supervise, without any consistent and direct supervision, I have had to find my own way to feel that I was still making a decent contribution. I thought I managed it pretty well. But it takes its toll.

With every non-response, every tiresome and challenging discussion that goes nowhere, every illogical point to refute, I am getting hollowed out from the inside. I begin to feel invisible, that my efforts are like a meaningless chasing after the wind. It is impossible to explain this to anyone else. After all, I am living the life am I not? I am richly rewarded for my 'labour' am I not? But those things I can enjoy with the fruit of my labour are merely a temporary distraction and no substitute for the real satisfaction I seek. Meaning.

This all came to a head when a decision that would affect me directly was not presented to me directly. It seemed another manifestation of the meaninglessness of my existence, that I did not matter and was being taken for granted. And I reacted badly but did not understand why at the time. After two hard days, I finally got it.

Next: how to deal with it.

Irrelevance

“ Death is nothing at all. 

It does not count. 
I have only slipped away into the next room. 
Nothing has happened. 

Everything remains exactly as it was. 
I am I, and you are you, 
and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. 
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. 

Call me by the old familiar name. 
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. 
Put no difference into your tone. 
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. 

Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. 
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. 
Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. 

Life means all that it ever meant. 
It is the same as it ever was. 
There is absolute and unbroken continuity. 
What is this death but a negligible accident? 

Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? 
I am but waiting for you, for an interval, 
somewhere very near, 
just round the corner. 

All is well. 
Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost. 
One brief moment and all will be as it was before. 
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!

Henry Scott-Holland. "Death Is Nothing At All." 

*************

I’ve been mulling over this which I shared with you, not actively but it’s been sitting there quietly in the back of my brain, bubbling and simmering away. I finally did some research and found that it was actually a poem based on a sermon that Holland gave at the funeral of Edward VII. Holland was a professor of divinity at Oxford.  The full sermon is here. My thoughts follow after that (in case you skip this but don’t…)

“Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when He shall appear we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is. And every man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself, even as He is pure.” — 1 John iii.2,3

I suppose all of us hover between two ways of regarding death, which appear to be in hopeless contradiction with each other. First, there is the familiar and instinctive recoil from it as embodying the supreme and irrevocable disaster. It is the impossible, the incredible thing. Nothing leads up to it, nothing prepares for it. It simply traverses every line on which life runs, cutting across every hope on which life feeds, and every intention which gives life significance. It makes all we do here meaningless and empty. “Vanity, vanity, all is vanity.” Everything goes to one place, good and bad, just and unjust, happy and unhappy, rich and poor, all lie down together in one common ruin. All are cut off by the same blind inexorable fate. So stated it is inexplicable, so ruthless, so blundering — this death that we must die. It is the cruel ambush into which we are snared. It is the pit of destruction. It wrecks, it defeats, it shatters. Can any end be more untoward, more irrational than this? Its methods are so cruelly accidental, so wickedly fantastic and freakish. We can never tell when or how its blow will fall. It may be, no doubt, that it may come to the very old as the fitting close of an honourable life. But how often it smites, without discrimination, as if it had no law! It makes its horrible breach in our gladness with careless and inhuman disregard of us. We get no consideration from it. Often and often it stumbles in like an evil mischance, like a feckless misfortune. Its shadow falls across our natural sunlight, and we are swept off into some black abyss. There is no light or hope in the grave; there is no reason to be wrung out of it. Life is the only reality, the only truth. Death is mere blindness, mere negation. “Death cannot praise Thee, O God; the grave cannot celebrate Thee. The living, the living, they can only praise Thee, as I do this day.”

So the Scripture cried out long ago. So we cry in our angry protest, in our bitter anguish, as the ancient trouble reasserts its ancient tyranny over us today. It is man’s natural recoil. And the Word of God recognizes this and gives it vigorous expression.

But, then, there is another aspect altogether which death can wear for us. It is that which first comes down to us, perhaps, as we look down upon the quiet face, so cold and white, of one who has been very near and dear to us. There it lies in possession of its own secret. It knows it all. So we seem to feel. And what the face says to us in its sweet silence to us as a last message from the one whom we loved is: “Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner. All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before. How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!”

So the face speaks. Surely while we speak there is a smile flitting over it; a smile as of gentle fun at the trick played us by seeming death. It is not death; nobody is dead. It would be too ludicrous to suppose it. What has death to do with us? How can we die? Everything that we cared for and loved exists. Physical death has no meaning, no relation to it. Reason refuses to bring the two together. There is no common term. Nothing that we see in this dead material now laid out under our eyes represents or involves or includes the thing that was or is alive. That which we loved is not here. That is all. It has dropped out. It has slid away. We are as sure of this as we are of our own identity. We cannot conceive any other possibility. Reason and imagination alike repudiate it.

And, as we stand there, death seems a very little thing. What really matters is the life with its moral quality, its personal characteristics, its intense and vivid charm, its individual experiences, its personal story; the tone of its voice, the pressure of its presence felt as surely now as once through eye and hand; the tenderness, the beauty, the force of the living will — its faults, and its struggles, and its victories, and its maturity, and its quivering affection. What has death to do with these? They are our undying possession.

Still are your pleasant voices,

Your nightingales awake.

For death he taketh all away.

But these he cannot take.

There is no severance, no gulf fixed. We can send our hearts over the silent frontier into the secret land. We hold converse with them that are gone from us. Not a tie is cut. They know it, we know it. The spirit bands hold. We can be content to bury this poor body, left behind, out of sight. It has nothing in it that really counts. We can be quiet and calm over it. There is no need for violent distress. All that matters shall go on as if death had never been.

Have we all felt like that now and again standing by the bed? True, we shall not be able to keep that mind. Alas! it will pass from us. The long, horrible silence that follows when we become aware of what we have lost out of our daily intercourse by the withdrawal of the immediate presence will cut its way into our souls. We shall feel it impossible to keep at the high level without a word, without a sign to reassure us of its truth. The blank veil will hang on unlifted, unstirred. Not a glimpse to be had of the world inside and beyond! How black, how relentless, this total lack of tangible evidence for the certainty that we believe in! Once again the old terror will come down upon us. What is it that happens over there? What are the dead about? Where are they? How picture it? How speak of it? It is all blind, dismal, unutterable darkness. We grope in vain. We strain our eyes in vain. “Oh, death is, after all, a fearful thing,” so we say with the old cringing fear that clings to the known, the familiar scene, and abhors the untravelled bourne.

Yes, but for all that our high mood was real, though it passes. It was a true experience; it gave us authentic intelligence. We were better able to win an insight into the real heart of things as we stood there by the bedside of the dead in spiritual exaltation, with every capacity raised to its highest level, than now when we are drawn under the drag of days, submerged, unnerved, wearied, out of spirits, disheartened. Therefore it is our reasonable act of faith to stand by our highest experience, and to assert its validity even when its light has faded out of our lives and we have sunk back under the shadows. Though we have returned to the twilight of the valleys, yet we will ever recall the moment when we stood upon the sunlit heights and saw the far horizons. It was a true value that we then gave to life and death. That act of insight cannot be disproved or discredited; even though there be a counter judgement which will not be gainsaid, and which still presses its conclusion and penetrating insistence.

Our task is to deny neither judgement, but to combine both. The contrasted experiences are equally real, equally valid. How can they be reconciled? That is the question. Only through their reconciliation can the fitness of our human experience be preserved in its entirety. How shall this be done? Is it not through the idea of growth? We are in a condition of process, of growth, of which our state on earth is but the preliminary condition. And this must mean that in one sense we know all that lies before us; and in another sense that we know nothing of it.

“Brethren, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be.” Think that well over. We are now the sons of God. That we can know for certain. That is a direct and absolute experience. And that means that we are already now that which we shall be hereafter. “There is no other world.” So said the crooked spirit of Voltaire. For the “other world” has come here. It is already over here with us, on our side. Its powers are ours. We are in possession of its resources. We have been born into it, born of its spirit, born in its freedom. Within us its secret is germinally lodged. “Our life is hid with Christ in God.” The channels are open; communications pass.

It is no novel world, then, into which we shall enter when we pass away, but our own familiar world in which we shall have had our conversation and fellowship. Therefore, from this point of view, death is but an accident. Nothing is broken in our vital continuity. What we shall be there will be the inevitable continuation and development of what we are now and here. We shall simply go on being what we already are, only without disguise, without qualification. We shall use the same forces, live according to the same methods, be governed by the same motives, realize the same intention. We are what we shall be. That is why, standing by the dead, we know nothing for them is changed. We are to use the same language as of old, to think of them under the same form, to follow them with our intimate and habitual familiarities. Yes, for they are what they were. Death does not count.

And yet, and yet, “it doth not yet appear what we shall be.” “It doth not yet appear.” Ah! How dreadfully true that is! Even though it be ever so true that this after state will be an outgrowth from what we are, yet we can have no notion beforehand of what the outgrowth will actually mean. We can see nothing ahead. No hint reaches us to interpret it. How can we picture it? How can we give it concrete and actual expression? We gaze and gaze, and the abyss is blind and black. Death shuts fast the door. Beyond the darkness hides its impenetrable secret. Not a sound comes back! Not a cry reaches us! Dumb! Dumb as the night, that terrifying silence! “It doth not yet appear.” Gaze as we may, we can make nothing of it. The very fact that it will be the inevitable result of what we are has its terrors as much as its consolations. Alas! what will the results be? What will show itself to be the issue of our days on earth? Who can say? And therefore it is a fearful thing to go out into the night alone, carrying the irrevocable past — to be changed we know not how, to remain in our alarming identity through the change, to be ourselves for ever and ever under unimaginable conditions which no experience enables us to anticipate or forestall. Dreadful, the darkness, the silence of the unknown adventure. We know nothing of what will befall. Only we know that all which is already ours, by living experience, by intimate attachment, will be gone. The warmth of the present companionship, the comfort of familiar habits, the loving intimacy of deep and dear associations, the tender presence of this fond earth, the joy, the love, the hands that touch, the voices that charm, the hearts that beat. Ah! woe, woe! They must be surrendered. We go out stripped of all that has made us intelligible to ourselves, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be. Death, then, must retain its terror, even though it is but a stage in our growth, the terror of the unknown, the terror of loss, the terror of finality to what have been hitherto the movements of our very life.

Yet, beloved, if we recall the idea of growth, then we can afford to be in ignorance of what lies ahead; we can afford to live solely in the present hour. We can afford to be stripped of our earthly investiture, and go out into the naked silence of the beyond, because still through being sons of God we have secured to us the very powers which will avail us in the untravelled land. We are already equipped with all that we can ever need. We shall hold in our hands the resources which will justify themselves under these strange conditions in the unseen world. We can never be found wanting if we are true to ourselves. We can never fail over these if we cling to what God has already given. The method by which we control life here and now is the very method which will hold good there. The strength which is now our stay will prove itself still our strength there. We shall use the same forces, we shall rely on the same assurances, we shall feed on the same food, we shall grow by the same process, we shall follow the same laws, we shall pray the same prayers, we shall rejoice in the same hopes, we shall speak the same language. All that is ours now will be ours then. For we are already sons of God; already we are in Jesus; already we are of His Body; already we live by His life and taste His pardon and His peace. The Jesus whom we see and know now, is the Jesus whom we shall still see and know then; only, since we shall see Him nearer we shall grow more like Him; since we shall know Him better, we shall be more closely conformed to His image.

Ah! why need we know more? Why should we be afraid of the great venture? We have Jesus now, and even now we can make ourselves more ready to draw closer to Him. We can begin to purify ourselves even as He is pure, to make ourselves more utterly His in the sure hope that at last we shall see Him as He is.

Brethren, today these two moods which we have rehearsed are peculiarly ours— the mood of violent recoil, the mood of quiet continuity. Today the white light of Pentecost pours itself around us, and we know ourselves to be in the possession of the first fruits of the Spirit. Yet the white light breaks itself against the blackness of a closed coffin, flung up before the eyes of all, to embody the irreparable disaster of a death which has touched the very heart of our National life. Sinister and silent the coffin lies there in the sunlight, and its very pomp of state makes its silence more sinister yet. We shall creep around it in dismay as it lies in Westminster Hall. Is this all that is left? Is this the end of that royal splendour of life? Ah, then death is a dreadful thing. It is blind. It is dumb. It is stupid. What does it hold in it? “We know not yet what we shall be.” “We know not.” We can tell nothing of what the change will mean to the dead. For a change it most certainly will be. “We shall be made like unto Him.” What will that not involve? What purging? What cleansing? How much of ourselves that is now part and parcel of our nature must go, must be cut away, if we are ever to be like Him? “We shall see Him as He is.” So the text says. Can you and I bear so to see Him? Dare we make the awful venture? Who can endure such a sight and not die? Who would not shrink from so fierce a test? So this unknown experience which awaits us on the far side is charged with the terror of the unknown. We flinch from it as we look merely at the isolated coffin awaiting its last burial, the symbol of disaster. Oh that we might be left inside the familiar conditions that are ours already! They may not be wholly good, but at least they are known. They are our own. We must cling to them with the desperation of habit. As for the far beyond, it may have its wonder and its joys. But we cannot be sure. “We know not now what we shall be.” If that black coffin were all, then, we should be left to these blind broodings.

So that black coffin harbours its black secret. But over it and round it and about it the light of Whitsuntide sweeps in to scatter all our fears. Why are we afraid? Have we not the gift of the Spirit? Has it not swept in upon us with a mighty wind? Is it not in our heart as a fire? Surely it has become our very own possession, one with our very life. And the Spirit which we now possess is itself the Life of all Life, the Life of the Life beyond death. It is the Eternal Life of God. And yet it is here, as our earnest of the hereafter, as our pledge and guerdon of all that must follow. What will follow we know not. Why should we? We must wait until we experience it in order to know. But whatever it is, it will be the outcome of what we are. It will be the work of the same Spirit who works in us today.

And in the power of the Spirit we are already passed from death to life. Death is behind us, not in front. “Ye were dead.” “Ye were baptized by the Spirit into Christ’s death.” The old sinful self, the man after the flesh, the old Adam in us, is already under the doom of death. It is stricken with a mortal blow. The grip of death has overtaken it. It is given over to death, with its greeds and lusts, with its envies and cruelties, with its meannesses and deceits. It is dead. It must be buried. We can commit it to the worm of destruction, to the avenging fire, without a shudder, without a fear. For it is not ours now. We have shaken ourselves free. We are in the Spirit. We have passed over to the other side. Now, even now, brethren, we are the sons of God; we have the Spirit of Him Who says: “I am the Resurrection and the Life; He that believeth on Me, though he die, yet shall he live. And whoso liveth and believeth on Me shall never die.”

Stand on the strong Word. In its strength you can even now use your remaining days to bury that which is already dead. You can strip off the clinging garments of decay, the deceits of the world, the flesh, and the devil. Has not the Spirit in you convicted you of sin? Has it not shown you the deadly thing that must be rooted out? In this light, this Pentecost, you know your sin, your own personal sin, the sin that is under condemnation.

Well, let this sin go, then. Uproot it. Cut it away. Bury it. Burn it out. Die to it. Kill it. You can, for you are a son of God, and the spirit of sonship will do its good work in you. It will slay in you the thing that offends. It will kill in you that sin which is the only sting in death. It will expel the devil from you who alone has power in death. It gives you the weapon. Trust the sword of the Spirit. Yield to it. Let the dead things go, and lay hold on life. Purify yourself as He bids you Who is pure. Then the old will drop away from you, and the new wonder will begin. You will find yourself already passed from death to life, and far ahead strange possibilities will open out beyond the power of your heart to conceive. For, “it doth not yet appear what you shall be.” Only, you will somehow become aware of what it might mean to become more and more alike to the Lord Jesus Whom you adore, as more and more in the infinite amazement of an ever-growing surprise you learn to see Him as He really is.”

*************

The poem is more well known because of its romantic nature and allusions. Plus it's a lot shorter and better suited to today’s ADHD-riddled society (TLDR). And stripped of its religious context, it provides a certain vacuous comfort to those left behind. Those who have the FOMO will latch on to anything that suspends their fear of irrelevance (in case you wonder about the title of this post).

It’s a sticking plaster.

If you do not believe in God and the afterlife, it is essentially meaningless. There is no “round the corner” where you will laugh after meeting again. There is nothing. You will fade from their memories, just as people do in real life when they are out of sight. The lament of loss is but a passing moment, a loss that most people fill with something else (unsatisfactorily) because it is a void that they fill with things and people but not permanence, because of their own impermanence.

This fear of irrelevance is however not absent from the rest of us, those who believe in God. We are not immunised. We are however, given the answer.

The sermon (and especially the last para which is key), cuts to the bone because it identifies the struggle. We can more easily change or cut out the sins that we consciously act on. But the sinful heart is much more resistant. The Spirit acts within us, to root out sin, and in the process we are forced to confront ourselves, the ugliness and pettiness we have, the cruelties we are capable of. It is no bad thing to confront this, as well as to understand that there is no magic switch the Spirit flips to change our hearts instantly. We will stumble and those who say differently are fooling themselves.

The pain of conviction is perhaps the thorn in our sides that Paul speaks of. We know we can and should be better, to be more Christ-like. But our sinful selves long for justice in this lifetime, we want to strike a blow ourselves rather than leave it to God. We want to be loving and charitable but find it difficult when we do not trust that charity is deserved or when we know it is abused. What then?

Do we allow injustice and abuse to continue? Do we call it out? How should we call it out? How should we respond? The only thing that comes to mind now is prayer.

Loving hearts

The commandment to love is a tough assignment in so many ways.

It is easy to love those you love, and who love you back, you know what I mean? Tolkien wrote this lovely poem (which I coincidentally came across recently) for his own wedding:

"Lo! Young we are and yet have stood

like planted hearts in the great Sun

of Love so long (as two fair trees

in woodland or in open dale

stand utterly entwined and breathe

the airs and suck the very light

together) that we have become

as one, deep rooted in the soil

of Life and tangled in the sweet growth."

How marvelous, how wonderful... To be of one mind, growing and growing old together. To be of one mind is a rarity (and perhaps in reality relies too much on one party subsuming their identity into the other's), and growing together can take so many forms and directions that provide as many pitfalls as there are advantages. There is however one way that will stand us in good stead and that is to grow together in faith.

But as usual, I digress and that will be taken up another day in another post. Back to the commandment to love all.

There is also the love of those we like. Even if they (as well as those who love us back) drive us mad at times. Then there are those we don't like - and who might drive us mad most of the time. How should we love them?

Is it a different form of love? Are there things we would do for 'loved ones' that we wouldn't for the rest? How far do we go? That is the first big test for us. How do we truly obey Christ's commandment? This post was partly prompted by a recent incident during my weekend golf game.

There are two early riser groups at Richmond, and we 'compete' (fastest fingers first) to see who can get the first tee time. There was some friction in the past, but we've become friendly with all of them with the exception of one chap who is rather rude. During a recent game, my friend A saw him searching for a ball and went to help him. I was immediately struck with embarrassment for my (inner) hostility towards the chap as I knew that I would not have volunteered to help. My friend A who helped the guy, has also been the recipient of some aggression from him and yet, went to help without a second thought.

How far I am from being a good servant, a good testimony for Christ, if such a small act that would cost me nothing was so hard to contemplate. My friend A was a much better testimony for his faith than I. And what if it will cost me something? And my thought immediately goes to the ultimate sacrifice that Christ made for us and how it shames my pettiness. We rationalise it away at times in some circumstances - a beggar may not be genuine and we should not be fooled. A fellow brother and his wife have a different perspective in that they will always give because there might really be a need, and it does not really cost them much.

Which sort of still kicks the can down the road. What if someone has a real need that you can fulfill, but it will cost you. Give till it hurts, they say. Though the following verses seem to suggest that may not be advisable.

2 Corinthians 9:7-8 says "Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work."

Even if you say you would not love anyone differently (and come close to sainthood in the process), I wonder if such a person would feel differently inside, while performing those acts of "love". The verses above suggest that if we harbour some reluctance or feel a sense of obligation to help, it isn't really an act of love? I say this because the verse raises the question, "how do we decide in our heart what to give?" 

I don't have the answer to that.

What I do know is that all we have, whether it be material possessions, good health and energy, or resources like time, come from Him as verse 8 tells us. And what is the purpose of being blessed in that way? For us to love. And if our hearts are disposed to loving and helping others, perhaps it becomes more and more instinctive such that we do not feel an obligation, we do not feel that we are giving up something for others - as the cliche goes, it is not something we give up if it was never ours to begin with. We are merely custodians of what His grace has blessed us with.

Dialectic

A conversation about the post "Inclusivity and exclusivity"

Think your main thrust would be that of addressing individuality?

What did you mean by "addressing individuality"?

So how I read your post was actually a focus on how people, at the end of the day, just wnat to enforce their own views and feel like their own version of whatever they believe in is right... think it is a legitimate problem in society today, just that I was trying to figure out if that was the main direction you were trying to go with

Yes. Though I didn't intend that to be the focus. It was more about how we should love those we disagree with. We must be inclusive. In a way, it is to make the point that inclusiveness is not, in itself the problem. Christ taught us to be inclusive.

Yeah but the source of the problem all stems from that (individuality), and I felt like that could have been illustrated a bit more to then make your point on loving those we disagree with.

Is individuality a problem?

I think so, because society (and your post) does go on about how my truth is right, and you have no right to tell me otherwise. They may not say that Christianity is wrong, but they will insist that nobody should be able to tell another what is right or wrong. For Christians, the society pressure to conform to these expectations has made many of us fearful and unwilling to stand up for what we believe is the truth.

Ok I see what you mean. The issue in my view is not really about individuality. God created us with free will, and that means the ability to make choices, the very essence of individuality. But we have a problem with authority because that means giving up some choices, some 'freedom'. In a way it is a false argument because there are always choices to be made, even if you're not religious.

Inclusivity and exclusivity

I recently listened to a Timothy Keller sermon on Acts 8:26-40 which describes the encounter that Philip had with an Ethiopian eunuch who had gone to Jerusalem to worship. Keller describes how much of an outsider to the Jews/believers the eunuch is, from his origins to his status - both in his work as a treasurer to the queen, and his physical state.

And yet, Philip accepted him and baptized him. This serves as a reminder to us that we are to embrace all who come to accept Christ, no matter their origins. The easier example to recall is of course the person who was crucified with and defended Christ. All he asked was "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom" and Christ assured him "Truly, I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise."

There is no additional context provided, or at least none that we need to know. We don't know the background or history of this person, whether he was already a believer, but we know he was a criminal for he said, "We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve." It was probably a pretty serious crime if he accepted that crucifixion was justified.

And yet, Christ assures him in no uncertain terms he will be saved. No pre-conditions or caveats, just a simple declaration. "Today" He said. Not sometime soon, or somewhere in the future. Sceptics will of course disagree but as believers, we accept Christ is Lord, and therefore His words have the full weight of truth.

So Keller makes the point that Christianity is one of the most inclusive, if not the most inclusive of faiths. Regardless of race, status, and any other orientation. Christ does not care who you were and where you came from. He only cares where you want to go.

Keller however makes the point that Christianity is also the most exclusive of faiths. He posted this on Facebook - "The gospel is an exclusive truth but it's the most inclusive exclusive truth in the world." What did he mean?

First he deals with the idea popular in some circles that all religions are equal because we are like the blind men touching different parts of an elephant, each claiming to know the truth. Keller quotes Leslie Newbigin (who wrote a book "The Gospel in a Pluralist Society") who was suddenly hit by the insight that people who claim that we are all only seeing one part of the truth (the elephant), must be claiming that they can see the whole truth or else how could they make such an assertion? This is of course an arrogant position that the most fervent omnists and atheists will also push, based on a perspective very prevalent today in society in which people define their own truths. All based on the idea that we are better off if everyone was free to choose their own paths.

This has been the most ruinous idea in the last few years. Are people happier? The current idea that we must be inclusive and embrace diversity (the big elephant in the room - how far do we go? Let's make serial killers, pedophiles et al feel welcome) is not something borne out of altruism (at least not for everyone) but is largely political. So people who argue for the Church to officiate same-sex marriages, that LGBT people must be represented, are seeking to change the status quo in pre-determined directions.

We have to be careful here because left-wing agendas today seek to make everything a black and white argument. If you are against their idea or position, it is hate speech. Which makes the whole inclusive argument redundant. So clearly not everyone (especially those with differing ideas) should be included, only who they want and that I think is the very definition of what is political.

I am always reminded of the related argument of representation (another political argument) that only gay actors should portray homosexuals in movies - clearly then, directors would have a hard time getting mass murderers, psychopaths and assorted criminals released from prison to reprise their real-life experiences. So many of the ideas about diversity and representation become a bit murky when you dive deeper into them.

The left-wing establishment is trying to make the argument that inclusiveness is somehow a morally superior position. The truth is that it is but a slogan or brand that people can arm themselves with to prove or show that they are more enlightened, more cultured, less fanatical than religious "zealots" - we are easy targets. Inclusivity is in a sense, a fraud because it is a term that seems 'fair' and unchallengeable to mask the real intent. It would be far better, and also more honest for the LGBT community to simply argue their case more directly but that would weaken their political ground.

Christians and their communities need to understand this distinction so that they can have better conversations when pressed on the subject. I didn't say we should have a better argument because that implies someone wins and someone loses the argument. This is where Christianity is inclusive, and in fact is more inclusive than the LGBT community in a sense. We welcome all into the fold, so long as they love God and are willing to repent. Gays may accept Christ and will continue sinning (whether it be on the issue of sexual relations or other sins) because they (and us) cannot save ourselves.

What then is non-negotiable and exclusive? Surely it must be that Christians accept Christ is God, and that His word is the truth. And my layman reading of it (supported by most mainstream Christian views) is that homosexuality is forbidden. However as a non-scholar of the Bible, I would be the last to claim that this interpretation is definitive - I respect the view of those who claim the Bible has a different view about homosexuality. If they want to form their own 'church' with such views, that's their prerogative and we can only try to show love and hope they come to see the real truth. We are then from mutually exclusive communities that agree to disagree. And if both do so out of love, that is the best outcome in my view.

However there are those who hold radically different views from the mainstream and claim that only they know the truth and that the Church must conform to their view. From a liberal inclusive perspective, they can't have it both ways. They cannot insist we only see one part of the elephant, but that they see it in its entirety. This is where the Church must maintain its stance because to do otherwise would be to put the foundations of the Church on sinking sand (as the line in the hymn goes).

I may need to hear all the arguments from the LGBT community that want the church to embrace them to understand them better, but at least one version of it relies on seeing things in a certain context. This to me seems a slippery slope. There are then many things that one could justify based on context - including the persecution of those who do not conform as the history of the church shows. Slavery is another difficult topic. Maybe best left to another day.

Expectations and feelings

Continuing the train of thought about ‘fruitlessness’…

People seem to be more unhappy these days because they are constantly told how wonderful they are, how they can be anything they want to be, and so by implication most of the time, whatever job they are doing at the moment is unworthy, is beneath them.

Or even if they do not think that, it’s not something they are invested in. It is merely a means to an end. A good income so that they can pursue leisure. FOMO is a huge motivator these days.

Or they convince themselves that they like the job because they feel good about their job, or parts of it. Feelings are importantly but feelings are often fleeting, shallow and in pandering to them, we lose an opportunity. What do I mean? Well the tendency these days is to cancel, to avoid what’s causing these feelings because they hurt our feelings, and thus losing the opportunity to engage, to find greater common ground.

So at work, if we don’t engage, everyone loses. I’ve had recent encounters where I ask questions and seek clarification. Instead of engaging, the response is to double down, have an excuse/explanation, or both. I wonder if it’s just me, that my way of seeking clarity rub people the wrong way. Or maybe I’m just wrong but they’re too polite to tell me.

Coming back full circle to fruitlessness at work. The constant emphasis on the positive is a trap. As more and more questions remain unanswered, the circle of what provides satisfaction in one’s vocation shrinks more and more.

Fruitfulness at work is not about achievements, whether personal or collective. It's about being engaged. If you are not engaged, even good outcomes feel hollow and empty.  Conversely, if you are engaged, even bad outcomes can be a source of encouragement. It is however challenging to say this in today's environment, where negative things are frowned on.

Yes, it has been tough recently. I try to tiptoe around the subject but it is really challenging to do so about things like basic competence. So I am really trying to engage but I am not getting through. I am looking forward to working with people who are more receptive. Hopefully. I will find out more next week when I am home and have a chat with the team that is looking at my post-retirement job.