Just Good Friends

The nature of our relationship with God lies at the heart of all religion. In the long history of organised religion this has been understood in a variety of ways. Those religions that have left the clearest mark on human history are those that have built the grandest monuments or ruled the largest empires. Those religions which have taken a lowlier path have left fewer clues for historians to note.
Christianity has certainly left its mark on the world since it joined forces with the Roman Empire in the 4th century. Western history is as thickly strewn with Christian empires as the western landscape is with Christian monuments. However, the central figure of Christianity - Jesus - does not fit this grand profile at all.
Jesus did not claim any land, rule any people, build any monuments, fight any battles or write any books. He seemed quite disinterested in politics, law and ritual. He lived a simple life, focusing on those things that leave their mark in the daily lives of ordinary people, not in physical or social landscape.
When it comes to the nature of relationship that Jesus sought to have with the people around him, he did not live an elevated or separated life. He simply lived among the people he taught, as their neighbour and their friend. Just hours before his death Jesus reminded his core followers: "I do not call you servants ... but I have called you friends.”
Friendship should rightly be the defining relationship of Christianity - friendship that spans different cultures, different beliefs and different lifestyles; friendship that unites people with their neighbours and also with their God. There is absolutely no place for hierarchy in the life and teaching of Jesus. The true mark of Christianity is good friendship.

Faith in Doubt

In the world of religion, doubt is generally seen as a bad thing. Religious groups run much more comfortably when all the members share a common set of beliefs. When someone questions those accepted beliefs, or expresses an alternative understanding, they tend to be seen as a problem that needs to be solved. Through the long and tangled history of religion (and politics), very many people have been exiled, tortured or killed for expressing doubt. It is, unsurprisingly, a common feature of human culture that we keep our doubts to ourselves. It’s safer that way.

Thomas was one of Jesus’ core group of pupils, and the only one of that group who was not present when a surprisingly alive Jesus joined his disciples for supper just two days after his execution. It must have been very difficult for Thomas. While he was working through the first phases of grief following Jesus’ brutal demise, his best friends were bouncing around with unprecedented joy, claiming that they had seen Jesus alive. Thomas’s doubt is entirely understandable. His friends’ story was absurd. People do not calmly turn up to supper two days after their own (very public) death. It was a reasonable doubt.

I suspect that for the whole of the following week, Thomas was repeatedly criticised by his friends for not understanding things the way that they did. Since then, centuries of Christian tradition has looked down its collective nose at 'Doubting Thomas'. Jesus, however, did not criticise or reprimand Thomas for doubting; he simply showed his nail-pierced hands and feet and allowed Thomas time to recalibrate his understanding of reality.

There is nothing wrong with doubt. Doubt is a fundamental part of faith. It is what separates faith from certainty. And that is good, because certainty is brittle, whereas faith is robust.

Thomas wasn’t the only one of Jesus’ disciples to doubt the story of the resurrection. Matthew’s Gospel informs us that others did too. What marks Thomas out is that he was the one who was honest about his doubt. 

Most of us, like Matthew’s unnamed doubters, keep our questions and uncertainties to ourselves. We are secret doubters, afraid of how others will react if we admit the points on which our grasp of things is different from the prevailing trend. That is a weakness - both in us and in the communities to which we belong. It would be so much better if we learned to trust our uncertainties, if we could have faith in our doubts, and in the doubts of the people around us.

God's Style Statement

Projecting the right image is sometimes important. Some of us spend longer standing in front of our wardrobes than others, but all of us know that at certain times we need to take control of how others see us. Jesus had one of those moments on the day he arrived in Jerusalem, five days before his death.
The city was awash with rumours and theories about the unconventional rabbi from Nazareth. Some were saying that he was sent by God; others believed he was inspired by the devil. The more energetically the first group dreamed of making Jesus their king, the more carefully the latter group planned his execution. Jesus needed to make a statement that would direct people’s minds away from their pre-set fears and fantasies, and focus their attention on the priorities of God.
Jesus had spent a few years trying to tell people, and show them, what God is like, but they had consistently failed to shift from their deeply ingrained assumptions. It was time for a different approach. Rather than talk to people, he decided to show them the kind of Messiah that God had raised up. To achieve this, he chose to enter Jerusalem riding on a donkey.
I highly recommend doing an internet image search for “man riding donkey” (there is a small sample in the attached picture). Apart from the occasional paying tourist or comedy stunt, there is a certain consistency of style among the donkey riders of the world. Again and again you see low status, hard working people going about the dull routines of their lives. This was Jesus’ style statement. This is the kind of man he was, and that he intended to be. If Jesus was indeed God’s Messiah, God’s anointed one, then this is the kind of God Jesus represented.
A second internet image search for “religious leaders” brings a very different set of images, featuring a remarkable array of long robes and strange hats, with the occasional tailored suit. It would have been much the same in Jesus’ day, and Jesus deliberately chose a strongly contrasting image.
He decided to make a style statement - a message without words. He was the one appointed and anointed by God to reveal to the world what God is really like. He chose to do that by riding a donkey.

Making Life Easier

When Jesus thought about the role that religion played in the lives of the people around him, he came up with the image of an ox, fitted with a cumbersome wooden yoke, trudging along, pulling a heavy load behind it. It is not an inspiring image.
We live in an age which is increasingly sceptical of organised religion. Many of the people around us would share Jesus’ impression. All too often, religion weighs people down and ties them up them up in its rules. What should be a liberating influence in their lives, becomes an additional complication, an additional expense - an additional burden to carry.
What Jesus observed was that for all the extra demand that religion put on people’s lives, it still didn’t bring them any closer to God. His life’s work was to show people that they could come to God and experience his love without any of the paraphernalia of religion, and without the heavy load of guilt that a law-based faith imposed on anyone who tried to follow it.
"Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
Sadly, the Christian religion has repeatedly failed to follow Jesus’ lead. Christianity has defined its own laws, and established its own set of religious rituals; it has repeatedly made heavy demands on people’s finances, and imposed tight controls on their personal lives. Christianity has placed on its followers the very same burdens of guilt and fear that Jesus was seeking to alleviate.
We need to follow Jesus’ lead. Our role, as carriers of his beautiful message, is to lighten the load of people who feel weighed down by the complications of life, and assure them that close relationship with God is easy, not difficult. Our role is to release people from guilt, and remind them that the only law that matters is the call to love God and neighbour.
If we are not making life easier for people, if our yoke is not easy and our burden not light, then we are not doing the work of Jesus.

Being Yourself - Sunday 11th February 2018

There is an intriguing story from the final days of Jesus’ life, that relates a moment when one of the many Marys anointed his feet using some staggeringly expensive perfume, causing a embarrassed debate amongst his disciples. John’s account of the incident states that the perfume was worth a year’s wages, and identifies Judas as the disciple who questioned whether it would have been better for the perfume to be sold and the proceeds given to the poor.
I find myself to be firmly on Judas’ side in this. Surely, to pour such an extravagance over Jesus’ feet was a pointless waste of resources which could have been used to much better effect elsewhere.
Jesus, however, defended Mary - boldly and strongly. And so I find my own attitude to be lovingly rebuked, along with Judas.
The story shows Jesus to be a man who is very comfortable in his own skin. Most of us would be hideously embarrassed to have someone attending to our feet in the middle of a dinner party, but Jesus seems untroubled.
Despite the moral outrage being expressed, Jesus allowed Mary to be herself, and to proceed with the action that she, in her own wisdom, had chosen. He made no attempt to control her, or correct or redirect her actions.
This is a consistent theme throughout Jesus' life. He did not attempt to control people, or tell them how they should behave. He allowed people to follow the paths that they have chosen, and continued to love them. Even on the last day of his life, Jesus did not interfere with the actions of the high priests, Pontius Pilate or Herod. He let them be themselves, even though that would lead to his death.
The history of religion (including Christianity) is very much a history of control. Religion regulates and restricts people’s lives, telling them what they may or may not do. Yet Jesus does not. He defended Mary’s choice - outrageously extravagant though it was - and commended her for it.
Our religions seek to limit and control our choices in so many ways, but God - it seems - loves for us to be lovingly and generously ourselves.

Something Quite Different - Sunday 10th December 2017

Have you ever been in the classic situation, when speaking with someone who doesn't understand your language, of talking louder in the hope that they will then be able to understand? It seems to be a natural reaction to the situation, but we all know it doesn’t work.
The Christian Church and its message has been failing to resonate with the majority of people in the westernised world for many years now, and we are not going to solve this problem by delivering the same old messages again and again, but louder.
This challenge, that Christians face in many parts of the world, is nothing new. The prophets of the Old Testament had a similar experience; no-one was listening to them. God addressed this situation by doing something quite different. Enter John the Baptist.
John the Baptist walked away from the centuries-old Jewish traditions of divine law and sacrificial ritual. He made minimal reference to either law or ritual. His message was still Judaism, but Judaism-lite, very ‘lite' indeed. "Change your approach,” John challenged the crowds who were drawn to this new teaching. “The influence of God is all around you.” John had dispensed with Temple and synagogue, with law and tradition, and with sacrifice and regular worship. He replaced these staples of religion with a super-simple message of generosity and decency, combined with a zero-expense faith-action that anyone could do anywhere - emersion in water.
John’s Judaism-lite was an instant success. His message spread far and wide across the Jewish networks of the day. By the time that Matthew, Mark, Luke and John sat down to to write their Gospels, each in their own way began by saying: you’ve already heard about John the Baptist; now learn about Jesus.
John came as a warm-up act for Jesus, and we still need him today. Traditional Christianity has lost its potency. We won’t achieve anything by saying the same things, but louder. We need to follow John’s lead; we need to dispense with the over complex moral and religious packaging of our traditions. Instead we need to focus on the oh-so-simple message of John and Jesus: be honest, be caring, be generous, be forgiving - for this is the way of God.

Sing a New Song - Sunday 3rd September 2017

The psalms of the Old Testament repeatedly urge us to ‘sing a new song’. Of course, from the point of view of ancient Israel’s song writers this was a good way of promoting business, but there is more to their repeated lyric than that. These encouragements to sing a new song (including one in the book of Isaiah) all come from the period after the destruction of Israel and Judah, when the spiritual leaders of the Jews were looking to rebuild their nation and their faith.
That’s why they needed a new song. The old songs had failed. They needed something new.
Singing played a central role in ancient societies. It was a primary means of communication and information storage. Before people had books or wrote letters, they shared and remembered ideas using songs. After the total disaster of the collapse of their nation, their culture and their religion, the ancient Jews were very much in need of a new song.
We live in an age when organised Christianity, once supremely influential in Europe and beyond, is in ongoing and prolonged decline. Organised religion, which once commanded universal respect, is now considered with deep suspicion.
We need a new song.
The rising generation of young people have almost no interest in visiting exclusive religious institutions to sing exclusive religious songs.
We need a new song.
That said, this new song - whatever it may be - may not be a song at all. Communal singing in general has declined in recent decades. What we need is a new communication, a new way of placing the knowledge of God’s love and God’s way into the hearts and minds of ordinary people. For too long, churches have plodded on in the hope that people will come back. They won’t. Time doesn’t go backwards.
Whether of not it actually involves singing, we need a new song.

The Stuff of God - Sunday 27th August 2017

To read this, you are using (or have used) a devise that has metal at its heart. Have you ever paused to wonder where metal comes from? Metal can only be formed when a very large star explodes in a supernova. (Our own star, the Sun, wouldn’t be nearly big enough). So, what you are looking at right now is the direct result of an immense explosion in space. Quite literally, you are holding a piece of star dust. Indeed, you yourself are made of star dust.
That is amazing, but it is not the most amazing thing about us human beings. Far more amazing than the atoms that make up our little bodies is our capacity to care for each other, to disadvantage ourselves for the benefit of another person. Metal is relatively common in the universe, but as far as we can currently tell, the only place you will see love in action is right here on this rocky little planet we call Earth.
Where does love come from? Love is not forged in the heart of a dying star (romantic though that notion sounds). We may be made of star dust, but our faltering acts of love and care have an even more astounding place of origin - God.
Jesus’ disciple, John, summed up the essence of his rabbi’s message like this: “God is love. Whoever lives in love, lives in God, and God lives in them.” Sweeping aside all the ins and outs of religious law and tradition, John reduces human meaning to its most fundamental ingredient - acts of practical love. Love comes from God. Love only comes from God; it has no other source. And only love comes from God. Love is the very essence of God. When we chose to love and care for our fellow human beings, we are doing the work of God. And when we fail to love and care for our fellow humans, whatever our claims to have faith, we are nowhere near God’s page.
Love is the stuff of God. When anyone is doing love, they are doing God stuff, an God is working directly through them - whatever their background or belief system.
I’ll let John have the last word. “ Friends, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love."

Politely Different - Sunday 26th February 2017

Being different is a fundamental feature of any religious commitment. Faith leads us to a different perspective on life, to different priorities, different principles, and these call us to step aside from the default behaviour of those around us. When this happens, the manner in which we go about being different is at least as important as the difference itself.
The prophet Daniel was taken away from his home and marched 1000 miles to a strange city where he knew nothing of the language, the culture or the customs. Having been identified as a young man with great potential he embarked on an intensive course of cultural transformation. He was given a new name, learned a new language and was thoroughly trained in the ways of Babylon.
However, Daniel did not want to lose his Jewish faith, and sought to be different in some significant way. So he resolved to keep to the dietary customs of his national and religious heritage. He declined the rich food and drink of the Babylonian court, and resolved to eat only vegetables, and drink only water.
The important part of this story, however, is the way in which Daniel went about this. He was polite, and courteous. He discussed the idea with his superiors, and adapted his plan to accommodate their concerns. He also proposed a trial period after which his plan could be reassessed. This was far from being a defensive or self-righteous protest.
In the decades that followed, Daniel held firmly to his dietary difference and his routine of private prayer. He did so politely and discreetly, and earned great respect for his beliefs at the highest level.
It is to be expected that people of faith will be different in some aspects of their lives, but this is not a justification for imposing our opinions or our practices on others, nor inconveniencing them in the cause of our own beliefs. We need to be helpfully different, respectfully different, self-sacrifically different and - like Daniel - politely different.

The Right Gift - Sunday 6th November 2016

We all know the experience of receiving a gift that we neither liked nor needed. Sometimes we receive such gifts with gracious delight, like when a young child presents us with their latest artwork. On other occasions we look at the miss-chosen gift with a sense disappointment that someone who knows us so well, understands us so little.
As people of faith, our religion is our gift to God, so it is wise for us to consider what kind of gift God likes to receive. Is your choice of worship something that genuinely delights God, or is it simply your own preferences that you are following?
This question goes back a long way, and it seems that we humans have a bad habit of giving God what we like, without considering what God likes. Through Isaiah, God said to the worshippers in Jerusalem, "I do not delight in the blood of bulls or goats. Incense is an abomination to me.” Through Amos he said, "Take away from me the noise of your songs; I will not listen to the melody of your harps.”
So what does God like? Isaiah, Amos and the the other Old Testament prophets all give the same answer. Jesus’ brother, James, put it like this: "Religion that is pure and undefiled before God is this - to care for orphans and widows in their distress.”
If you really want to put a smile of God’s face, give some of your time or money to help someone who is not able to help themselves.

Tender & Humble - Sunday 10th July 2016

Middle-Eastern emigration into Europe (via Turkey) is nothing new. It was happening in the 1st Century as many Jewish people sought a new life in the established Roman cities of western Turkey. Among those migrating Jews were many who embraced the teaching of Jesus.
These migrants, like others before and after them, held firmly onto the customs of their homeland, in particular to their God-given law. This determined difference caused suspicion and tension, and there were repeated attacks on the migrant communities. (This is an all too familiar story!)
St Peter wrote a letter to the oppressed migrants, which is as remarkable for what it does not say as for what it does say. He said nothing at all about maintaining the Law of Moses, which was so important to his fellow Jews. He did not advise the Jewish-Christians to stand out in either their Jewishness or their Christianness. Instead, he simply advised them to accept and respect their new surroundings, and live well and honourably.
Peter was applying the message and example of Jesus into this situation. For Jesus, the measure of godliness was not in explicit religion but in ordinary, practical love. Peter summed up his advice to the unhappy migrants saying: “finally, all of you, have: sympathy; love for each other; a tender heart; and a humble mind.”
This is a glorious gem of practical advice. Whenever we find ourselves in stress or conflict, we need these words to echo in our minds: “have a tender heart and a humble mind”. That will mark out the path that Jesus trod before us.

Religious Rules - Sunday 28th February 2016

Religions define themselves by their rules. Specific requirements concerning dress, food, personal behaviour, intellectual belief and religious ritual are the defining features of every religion. If you want to be part of the religion, you have to keep the rules. And, to keep you on your toes, you are reminded that these are not random rules, they are God’s rules. Christianity, as a religion, is no different.
But Jesus rejected that approach. He didn’t dismiss the religious laws; he exceeded them. “You have heard it said, ‘You shall not murder’. But I say to you that if you are angry with someone, you will be liable to judgement.” Jesus quite deliberately set the qualifying mark so high that no-one could reach it. "You have heard that it was said, 'You shall not commit adultery. But I say to you that everyone who looks at a someone with lust has already committed adultery.”
Jesus calls us to to stop defining ourselves as being good enough, because we can never be good enough. Only perfect love is good enough, and none of us are perfectly loving.
This would be disastrous if God wields a divine clipboard on which all our faults and failings are minutely recorded. But that is not what God is like. God is perfectly loving, and, being perfectly loving, he loves us even with our imperfections. God knows what we are like and still loves us. And - better than that - the more we get into a mess and a muddle, the more God loves us. That is what perfect love is like.