Looking at the heart

We all make judgements about people. We make them instantly. The moment we see someone, we make judgements about them. We can’t help it. Within a fraction of a second we assess someone’s age, gender, race, social class, relative wealth, general health and prevailing mood. We are remarkably good at it. It is a key skill for our survival.
However, it is a skill that is nonetheless flawed and limited. As we grow up, we learn to make value judgements about different kinds of people. We adopt common generalisations, and come to value some people more than others. This is an entirely natural way of processing information, but it is also a fertile seedbed for racism, sexism and all manner of unhelpful isms.
Three thousand years ago, the prophet Samuel was tasked with anointing a new king for the ancient nation of Israel. The first king had gone off the rails and God was preparing to bring on a substitute. Samuel went, as directed, to the now-famous town of Bethlehem and announced to a man called Jesse that one of his sons would be the next king. Jesse's eldest son was quickly introduced to the prophet. Samuel was impressed. From his perspective as a seasoned political leader, Samuel saw in Eliab an ideal candidate - tall, distinguished, steady, and and experienced soldier - qualities needed in a king. God did not agree. God said to Samuel, "Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature. I do not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but I look on the heart.”
One by one, six more of Jesse’s sons were brought to Samuel and each one of them got the divine thumbs down. Somewhat confused, Samuel asked the old man if he had any more sons. Jesse’s reply was dismissive: “There’s the youngest. He’s only a shepherd.” Samuel insisted the youth was summoned. As soon as he saw David, Samuel understood what it is that God looks for in a person. David was different from his older, wealthier brothers. He was bright eyed, and - more to the point - his heart was in the right place. 
When we rely on our natural instincts to assess people, the assumptions of our upbringing and the prejudices of our community distract us. Like Samuel, we need to learn to look beyond people’s outward appearance. We need to look through the windows of their eyes into the state of their heart. When we learn to do that, we will begin to notice all sorts of things that God is doing in our world.

Recently published:

'The Scruffy Disciple'

the life and loves of a disciple of Jesus 

by Robert Harrison

So Well Known - Sunday 2nd October 2016

We know more about King David than any other character in the Bible. Not only do we have a wide range of surprisingly honest stories, spanning from his early teens to frail old age, we also have a stack of poems - lyrics to songs - that are reliably attributed to this remarkable man. So we don’t just know what David did, we know how he thought, and how he felt.
Many of David’s psalms reveal the insecurity of power, and show us a powerful man who was constantly looking over his shoulder for fear of attack. But there are other psalms that reveal David, son of Jesse, to be a deep and passionate thinker, attentive to the most fundamental questions of life.
In Psalm 139 David reflects on the experience of knowing, and being known by, God. "You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far away. Even before a word is on my tongue, you know it completely.” He further contemplates God's inescapable knowledge: "Where can I flee from your presence? If I take the wings of the morning and settle at the farthest limits of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me.” Then David switches from that wide poetic perspective to one of extreme intimacy: “You knit me together in my mother’s womb. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret. Your eyes beheld my unformed substance.”
There have been many occasions in the history of religion when the all-knowing nature of God has been used to frighten people into submission. But David expresses no fear. For him, the eternal presence of God is like a thick duvet on a cold night. God’s presence is the only place that he feels safe and secure.
Jesus, on occasion, was called ‘Son of David’. This can’t have been because Jesus was a warrior or a politician because he did not model himself on those aspects of his famous ancestor. Jesus was the ‘Son of David’ because he too opened people’s eyes to the gently powerful, merciful love of God. To employ the most famous poetic reflection of the young shepherd turned great king: "God is my shepherd. I will lack nothing."

Depths of Mercy - Sunday 25th September 2016

It feels easy to trust God when things are going well. We lazily assume that they are going well because God loves us and we are pleasing him in the way we are living. But what about when things go badly? What about when things go badly through our own fault? How easily can we trust God then?
Towards the end of his life, King David seriously offended God by conducting a detailed census of Israel’s potential army. Almost as soon as the census was complete, David realised his error: he had failed to trust God, trusting - instead - the strength of his military force. God took action to discipline the ageing king, and demanded that David choose from three proposed punishments. David made his choice immediately. He opted for the third, three days of plague, stating: “Let’s fall into the hand of God, for his mercy is great; but let me not fall into human hands.”
Even though David’s trust in God had evidently become somewhat flakey, he was quick to trust God’s discipline. He did not think of God as being terribly vengeful, but as being essentially merciful. One of the features of David's story is that he was evidently an experienced sinner, and as such, understood more than many people the depths of God’s mercy. If he was going to be punished, David had no doubt that he wanted to be punished by God.
It is when we entrust God with our failures and our disasters that we begin to experience the depth of his mercy. And it is as we begin to experience the depth of God’s mercy that we learn how to show mercy to others.

Emotional Dilemmas - Sunday 18th September 2016

Emotions are part of being human. In addition to our intentions, understandings and beliefs we have feelings which can scoop us up and sweep us off in unintended directions. Some emotions are desirable companions: joy, laughter and love. Others are unwelcome guests: sadness, anger and grief.
After King David was driven into exile by his son, Absalom, the only way he could return to his home was if Absalom was defeated. Before the inevitable battle, David pleaded with his generals to be gentle with the young man. The generals ignored the king’s request. Absalom was dispatched; David’s reign was restored, but his son was dead.
David collapsed into searing grief. It is perhaps not a surprise, as he was a poet, that his grief was hauntingly poetic: “O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would that I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!”
It was good for David to express his grief. Grief needs to be expressed. But there was a problem. Because David was grieving loudly and publicly, his victorious troops were sneaking back to the city like defeated men. The chief general, Joab, gave David a stiff talking to, the gist of which was: ‘If you don’t get your act together and show some appreciation for your soldiers, you will lose your kingdom a second time.’
Emotions are great asset to human society, but they can also be a challenge. Their great power can be a force for either good or ill. Some people are emotionally manipulative; others are emotionally repressed.
David needed to express is grief. He also needed to pull himself together and do his job. We all face such moments. The best guide in the emotional jungle is, love. Jesus’ advice is hard to beat: “Treat others as you would have them treat you."

When things go wrong - Sunday 11th September 2016

Things go wrong. Occasionally they go horribly wrong. The news is filled with such moments, but we don’t need to look that far. In our own lives, something goes wrong most days. The question is: what happens next?
Do you dissolve into tears or flare into anger? Do you look for someone to blame, or blame yourself? When things go wrong we experience an urgent need to respond somehow.
When King David was well settled into middle age, things went horribly wrong for him. His son, Absalom, usurped his kingdom, causing him to dash into exile. As David hurried away from Jerusalem, his life’s work in tatters, he was followed by an old enemy, called Shemei, who threw stones and curses at him in equal measure. One of David’s generals offered to kill the man. David was indignant at the suggestion. “It may be,” he replied, “that God has told Shemei to curse me.”
In the middle of intense disaster, David was trying to discern what God was doing in the situation. Perhaps God had raised up Absalom. Perhaps David had had his time. Perhaps Shimei was right to curse him. On the other hand: perhaps God would restore David to his throne, and repay him with good for the cursing he was receiving. David needed time to answer those questions.
Ancient European religion believed there were two sets of equally matched spiritual forces in the world: good and evil; life and death; light and darkness. Much of that primitive thinking has seeped its way into Christianity. King David, however, had no such thoughts. For him there was only one significant spiritual force: God. And he had learned to trust God when things went badly just as much as when things went well.
Christians often assume that nice things come from God, and nasty things come from sin or the devil. That is far too simplistic. When things go horribly wrong - and they inevitably will at times - we would do well to follow David’s example: trust God, and pause to consider what he might be doing.

Failure & Potential - Sunday 4th September 2016

David, Israel’s greatest king, the writer of psalms, ‘man after God’s heart’, revered as a prophet…saw a beautiful woman - Bathsheba - taking a bath, learned she was married, invited her to his bed, made her pregnant, fell in love with her, and killed her husband so he could marry her.
That would bring a sudden end to most people’s careers, whether or not they were a political or religious leader (David was both).
God moved swiftly. David’s multiple crime was uncovered, and severe punishment detailed.
It is here that the story takes a surprising turn. David apologised, quickly and unreservedly. God, equally quickly and unreservedly, forgave him. David continued to be Israel’s greatest king, a writer of psalms, a man after God’s heart, and revered as a prophet.
And there’s more: David’s relationship with Bathsheba was accepted and blessed by God. The child of their adultery died, but their second son - Solomon - went on to be Israel’s next greatest king, and was the ancestor of Jesus.
When God forgives, he forgives totally, because he values our strengths above our weaknesses, our potential above our lapses, our achievements above our failures. God knows that we sometimes sink to dismal depths, but he also knows that we can rise to soaring heights. He doesn’t want our failings to get in the way of our potential.

Promises, promises - Sunday 28th August 2016

I wonder how many promises I have made which I have never fulfilled, and long forgotten. Plenty, I’m sure.
Some time after David became king of Israel, he remembered a promise he had made years earlier. The promise had been made in private to someone who had long since died. He could easily have set the memory aside. But he didn’t. Also, to keep this promise was likely to cost David a vast amount and could significantly benefit his political enemies. Nonetheless, he went out of his way to fulfil the obligation he had made.
The promise had been made to Jonathan, son of the then king of Israel. David had become locked in a deadly rivalry with Jonathan’s father as it became clear that David, not Jonathan, would be the next king of Israel. Facing the prospect of his own death in that process, Jonathan asked David to care for his family. David promised that he would.
However, when Jonathan and his father, Saul, died in battle, David’s political supporters were quick to assassinate all King Saul’s immediate heirs. The family was wiped out and the new king, David, took over all their land and property.
Some 15 years later, David remembered his promise to Jonathan. He could easily have dismissed the memory. Instead he searched for any remaining relative of Saul and Jonathan to whom he could show kindness for Jonathan’s sake. He discovered a crippled grandson of the former king, who had been rescued from the slaughter by his nurse, though permanently injured in the process.
David met the disabled young man and restored to him all the land and property that had belonged to King Saul. David kept his promise, not to an acceptable minimum, but to the maximum. That is the kind of man David was.
St Paul described David as a man after God’s heart. David was honourable, generous and forgiving. That’s what God is like.

Passionate People - Sunday 21st August 2016

Some of us are practical, some are spiritual, some intellectual, and some of us are passionate. King David was a passionate man. His passions got him into trouble at times (more of that in two weeks time) but his passions were also a great asset. Among David’s great passions, he was passionate about God.
When David finally brought the symbol of Israel’s God (the Arc of the Covenant) into his new capital, Jerusalem, he danced with all his might and all the people danced with him. We don’t often see our national leaders behaving like that!
Not long after, David looked up the hill from his new palace to the old and shabby tent which housed the Arc of God, and his heart stirred again. He wanted to build God a fantastic new home, at least as magnificent as his own.
And here’s the significant bit: God declined David’s offer. He didn’t want a magnificent Temple and was content with the tent. However, David was not criticised for making an inappropriate suggestions. His passion for God was acknowledged, appreciated, and gently redirected.
We need passionate people. We need people to be passionate. But passion requires freedom, and freedom requires a generous supply of forgiveness. David could be passionate because he knew that God was forgiving.
If we - as society - are not able to be forgiving, passion will be stifled, caution take over, and life will lose its dynamic edge.
We need passionate people, and we need to be quick to forgive them.

Inside out - Sunday 24th July 2016

We all make judgements based on outward appearance. It’s inevitable. Whether we are simply choosing who to sit next to on a bus, or appointing an employee, or even selecting a potential lover - we base much of our judgement on what we can see.
When God sent the prophet Samuel to anoint a new king for Israel, he instructed the old man which town and family to visit, but did not advise him on which of Jesse’s sons to choose. Samuel took one look at the eldest son, Eliab, and quickly concluded that he had found his man: a tall, dignified, mature warrior - obvious king material! But God gave Eliab the ‘thumbs down’. “You humans look on the outward appearance,” God told Samuel. “I look at the heart.”
Samuel worked through all seven sons present and God rejected them all, leaving Samuel to ask Jesse if he, by any chance, had any more sons. Jesse responded, “There’s the youngest, but he’s only a shepherd.” (Clearly not king material!)
David was brought. He was young and inexperienced, but it was his heart that God was looking at. He was the man.
When it comes to yourself - God doesn’t love you because of your skin colour, your age, your choice of clothes, your height, or your weight - of course he doesn’t. But we still follow Samuel’s error and judge other people by such things.
Next time you meet a stranger, do your best to look beyond the obvious externals and try to perceive what they are like inside. Look at them as God looks at them. You may be surprised.