my life and my doctrine

I’ve recently been following many, generally painful and non-constructive, discussions on the SRE on trial page of Facebook. I don’t want to rehash the arguments here, but question an assumption of those who promote the ethics course. My bugbear is when people claim secular ethics as worldview-neutral and therefore isn’t a challenge to organised, for want of a better term, religion. If that were the case, how can it be considered for the SRE time slot? (However, I would like to add that this is more constructive than discussions about the appropriateness of SRE in schools at all. From what I understand, that’s not up for debate.)

This struck me as I heard about the recent French vote, in the lower house, to ban the burka.

Justice minister Michele Alliot-Marie says the approval was a success for French republican values of liberty, equality, fraternity and secularism.

I am yet to work out how it is a win for liberty. How a ban on public religious practise equals freedom. It seems to me, from a possibly ill-informed outsider looking in, that the desire for secularism is greater than the right to personal self-expression. In the end, it gives me the impression that secularism sits in judgment over religion and wants to push what it thinks is good or bad for an individual. Equality becomes less about equality, but uniformity. No longer the right the choose, but the assumption that all will choose the same.

Why did this particularly strike me this week?

I’ve been preparing sermons on 1 Timothy for later this year and have been dwelling on this very bold, very absolute, very modernist statement:

For there is one God, and there is one mediator between God and humanity, the man Christ Jesus, who gave himself as a ransom for all (1 Tim 2:5-6)

Paul doesn’t have any sense of diplomacy or tact as he states the truth. Regardless of what the prevailing view might have been in the cosmopolitan Ephesus, regardless of the culture of the day, there is one God. And there is only one God. And the only mediation between God and humanity. Jesus Christ who died, that we might know this one God.

I was preaching last night on Ecclesiastes 4 and looking at various aspects of relationships ‘under the sun’.

• Oppression (v1-3)
• Envy (v4-6)
• Loneliness (v7-12)
• Bad leadership (v13-16)

I made a passing comment when looking at loneliness that I didn’t think the three fold cord of verse 12 was about marriage, nor the trinity. I’ve since realised I should have substantiated that comment.

Verses 7 and 8 are about the futility, the vanity of not having an heir to all the rewards of your toil. Verse 9 starts a different train of thought with the proverbial statement:

Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. (Eccl 4.9)

Like a lot of Ecclesiastes, the writer (who I  refer to as Qohelet – a story for another day), makes a bold statement up front. He presents his conclusion and then goes on to justify it. It’s like a teacher who tells us the main point of the lesson at the beginning and then fleshes out what they mean by it.

What follows in v10-12 are three illustrations to support the main point of v9.

Three times Qohelet demonstrates that two are better than one. Maybe they are all illustrations of a road trip. As they travel and one falls, as they try to keep warm at night, or as they are set upon by another, it is better for there to be two rather than one. Maybe they are relating to the journey of life.

What does this have to do with a three fold cord?

Qohelet is talking about friendship, companionship or mateship. I don’t think this is referring in particular to a marriage situation. So I don’t think a three fold cord is two people plus God. There seems to be nothing in the context of the statement to suggest the particular relationship of marriage all of a sudden.

This is also why I don’t think it is about the trinity. There is no indication that the discussion has shifted to consider the relationships between the three persons of the trinity.

So, what does the statement ‘a threefold cord is not quickly broken’ relate to?

It seems like another proverb. Hence I think it most closely relates to the opening proverb of two being better than one. It builds on the argument that one on its own isn’t as good. Two are better, he says, and, as you know, cords of three aren’t quickly broken. ie a cord is strengthened when there are three. Now, I know nothing about cords and whether or not it is possible to do with four or more. I suspect maybe a mathematician or sailor could argue that any increasing odd number would be better than one. I certainly have never seen a cord of two. I don’t think you can plait two cords, so it wouldn’t make sense to refer to a two fold cord.

In some ways it’s another illustration from what we know of life, that the weight of numbers brings benefit.

I guess I don’t want to read into it, or any part of the Bible, things that aren’t there. Nor do I want to divorce a phrase or sentence from its surrounding context. If I think it makes sense where it belongs, then that’s more often than not, going to be my understanding.

There were two big questions raised after the sermon on Sunday night (Isaiah 6.1-7).

Firstly, I mentioned something about whether anxiety was a sin if we’re commanded in Philippians not to be anxious.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. (Philippians 4:6)

This was abbreviating a book review of Jerry Bridges’ Respectable Sins which was recently reviewed in the Briefing. The book review made me think it is definitely worth reading, to be reminded again of how easily our Christianity takes on aspects of our worldview that God is against. Other areas mentioned are impatience, selfishness, favouritism …

I’m sorry if what I said was insensitive to those thinking of friends and family with medically diagnosed anxiety issues.

What I was and am keen to challenge us on is the little things we may worry about that are out of our control.

John Bartik’s reflections on Bobby McFerrin’s Don’t Worry, Be Happy are worth a read.

Secondly, I ended with the reminder that we needn’t feel guilt about sin if we’re forgiven.

6 Then one of the seraphim flew to me, having in his hand a burning coal that he had taken with tongs from the altar.  7 And he touched my mouth and said: “Behold, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away, and your sin atoned for.” (Isaiah 6:6-7)

I think there’s a difference between feeling guilty and feeling remorseful about sin. I understand remorse as something which also implies regret and repentance. ie a desire to not keep sinning.

I think feeling guilty about sin can lead to two problems.

1. You feel more and more guilt in which case you don’t trust God’s grace to forgive.
2. The guilt makes you want to try harder and be more godly so you don’t trust God’s grace to forgive.

The right response to recognising the sin in our lives is to repent, to say sorry to God and to ask him to forgive us. I think the danger is that all too often we want to say sorry and I won’t do it again, as though we can make ourselves more godly.

What do you think? Have I overstated my case?

I thought I’d reflect on our seven week series on Psalms. In particular the challenges and thoughts I’ve had preaching on some Psalms.

1. What I thought would be the biggest challenge at the beginning was working on preaching an Old Testament passage. How do I do this and recognise we live after Jesus? Is it okay to preach a sermon a Jewish Rabbi would agree with? I’ll admit now that I don’t think I had great success with this. One week the Psalm was almost overshadowed by reflections on a New Testament passage. Other times the realisation of our time felt forced and inappropriate.  However, I think it got better as I kept two things in mind. Firstly, the goal must always be to preach the passage, not my biblical theology. Secondly, I think some Psalms have quite a direct relevance to us today, without some ‘forced’ NT interpretation being added, which leads me to my second challenge.
2. How do I preach the Psalms as a genre? It’s wasn’t often that the preceding and/or following Psalms shed a great deal of light on the context of the Psalm in question. Only Ps 137, of the ones I looked at, had significant clues to determine historical context. And yet, the further I got through the series, the more I realised that the genre of Psalm doesn’t necessitate looking for a specific historical context before being able to understand it. As I mentioned in my reflections on preaching Ps 137, I’d underplayed the importance of the emotional response a Psalm is trying to elicit. Now, I could be wrong on this, so challenge me to think harder about this.
3. So, how important is it to attempt to recreate the same affective response? At the moment, I think it’s vital, for without it we can miss out on the Psalmist’s purpose in writing/composing. I’m not suggesting that the Psalms aren’t to challenge our thinking. Rather that our thinking needs to be so changed and challenged that our affections are affected too.

So, as we move on to the next series there’s a challenge from lessons learnt. All preaching ought to be based on the passage expounded and have an affectional response. If you come to evening church at St Matthias, let me know how you think this next series goes.

Last Sunday, after the sermon on Psalm 139, we had the longest question times I’ve been a part of at evening church. It gave me a greater appreciation for how good they are.

I must admit that I was initially quite scared of the concept. It was something I inherited from the previous minister. It would mean I’d have to know what I’m talking about when I preach. It would require having answers to questions I may not have thought about during my preparation.

Yet I also realise that it is a good thing. It gave the opportunity the answer some questions I didn’t address in the sermon. Surely this would be a more beneficial thing, as people would keep learning as they ask their questions of the Bible passage. Also, there would be things in my preparation which ended up on the cutting room floor and yet could still be of use. Lastly, it could be used to clarify what I’d said in case it wasn’t clear enough.

What was most encouraging about Sunday night was that the questions were of the clarifying kind. Further it also became an ongoing discussion, rather than a couple of unrelated questions. They kept building on the previous ones.

I’m now a big fan. Still scared of the curly question I may not be able to answer. But most of all, glad to be involved in a process that enable us to study God’s word and learn together.

If you go to church, what are your experiences of having questions about a sermon? What do you think of the idea of question time? Lastly, if you ever preach, would you do it?

Last Sunday I preached on Psalm 139 about God’s intimately personal knowledge of every single one of us. What struck me as I prepared and obviously struck a number of evening church people is David’s plea in verse 19-22.

19 Oh that you would slay the wicked, O God!
O men of blood, depart from me!

20 They speak against you with malicious intent;
your enemies take your name in vain!

21 Do I not hate those who hate you, O Lord?
And do I not loathe those who rise up against you?

22 I hate them with complete hatred;
I count them my enemies.

My challenge was that we ought to align ourselves with God, to long for his justice to be made known, to not dismiss those who take God’s name in vain. I asked,

Do you count them your enemies? Do you hate them? Do you loathe them?

Why not?
Is it because you’re not totally aligned with God?
Is it because you don’t think God would notice or care?

This raised a number of questions:

• Aren’t we as Christians to hate the sin but not the sinner?
• Aren’t we as Christians to love those who hate us and pray for those who persecute us?
• Aren’t we commanded not to judge others?
• Isn’t it hypocritical to hate those who hate God since it is only by grace that we have been saved?

Here are some thoughts for us to reflect further.

1. Where in the Bible do we find the concept of hating the sin but loving the sinner?
   Psalm 51.5 says, ‘Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me.’ This suggests that our sinfulness is part of our nature since before birth. (cf Rom 5.12-21) I think it is both hard and dangerous to attempt to distinguish what we do from who we are. We aren’t to think of God’s character independently to his actions toward us or creation. So, why would it be appropriate for us?

2. What are the consequences if we do separate character from actions?
   There are two consequences I’m not comfortable with, if we push this idea. Firstly, it could suggest that we can be a sinner with no responsibility for our sinful actions. Secondly, if God loves the sinner and hates only their sin, what does this mean for his coming judgment (Heb 9.27)? Is it against sin only, in which case every sinner is loved and welcomed into heaven? I don’t think the Bible teaches that everyone will end up in heaven, because of passages like John 3.36: “Whoever believes in the Son has eternal life; whoever does not obey the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God remains on him.”

3. Is it impossible to love and hate at the same time?
   One thing that seems assumed in some of these questions is that love and hate are opposites. Yet, to love someone is to care for them, to want what is best for them, to be self less. Our supreme definition of love is found in 1 John 3:16: “By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers.” I’ve heard it said and agree with the idea that the opposite of love is not hate, but apathy – a total disregard and lack of care.

4. So, how should we treat a non Christian now?

   1. This question assumes that we judge others and assess whether or not they are Christians. The Psalm describes the wicked as ‘those who hate you, O Lord’ and ‘those who rise up against you’ (Ps 139.21). It suggests those who are against God and presumably therefore it is possible to tell from their way of life.
   2. As many pointed out, we are to love our enemies. In the light of God’s judgment what better way to do this than to hold out the word of life (Php 2.15-16)? Jude captures the urgency of this when he writes, “to others show mercy with fear, hating even the garment stained by the flesh.” (Jude 1:23) It reflects love shown in mercy and hate.
   3. As Amy pointed out we must never forget that we have been saved by God’s grace. Therefore we are in no position to be judgmental of others by some internal, personal standard. Rather our goal must be to be aligned with God, to think his thoughts after him.

We are confident that God is love (1 John 4.7-8). This love isn’t just an abstract characteristic of God. Rather, as John continues, “In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him.” (1 John 4:9. Cf John 3.16). God’s love is shown in action. It is shown in God’s actions to save us from judgment that we might live. It is shown in mercy to save because of a hatred of sinners.

I’m sure there is plenty more to say, but would love your comments, thoughts, further questions or feedback.

I tried something different last night in my sermon on Psalm 137. The purpose of the sermon was to help us feel the emotion of the Psalmist as he laments being in exile (v1-4), as he pledges himself to Jerusalem (v5-6) and as he longs for God to bring justice to avenge His name (v7-9).

I spoke in the first person, as though I was the author/composer of the Psalm. In preparation it seemed like a great way to communicate more strongly the feelings, the inspiration and the desire of the Psalmist as he expresses himself in song. While this is all achieveable, and there a few other differences which contributed to this as well, I still had a few concerns before the night.

How much poetic license do I have as a preacher as I step into the shoes of the Psalmist? There’s a quite a bit we can determine about the context of this particular Psalm. I think it’s written just after the return from exile in Babylon, reflecting on their time there (v1).

Most of all, I was wondering whether a different means of communication would overshadow the message communicated. It was easier to try funny lines as an Old Testament character observing the world today. It was easier to make the experience for those in church more ‘fun’. Yet, would it be a help or a hindrance for those listening to hear God’s word and the challenge for them today?

In the end, I ran the idea by a few people beforehand – other preachers from other churches, a few of the more mature members of evening church and even gave a practise to Jo and a friend in the afternoon.

If you’re a preacher, would you do it? More importantly, if you were there, what did you think of it?

I recently mentioned in a sermon on Psalm 1 that the Bible is an incredibly vivid book. I was encouraging us at Evening Church to read our Bible more than we listen to other people’s sermons. I referred to a video of Ryan Ferguson’s dramatic reading of Hebrews 10-11. Here’s the link if you’re interested.

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-8919399424910324675

The Bible well read speaks for itself.