For those who want a change from the Gospel

Trinity 8 – 1 Kings 3:5-12 (Related)

I know it’s not very PC nowadays, but personally I have found material on stages of male development really helpful. A man, it has been suggested, lives his life (or ought to live his life) through six stages: Beloved Son, Cowboy, Warrior, Lover, King and Sage. I won’t go into it all here[1], but I want to focus, as our reading suggests, on the sixth and final stage, that of being the Sage. I think that’s where I am: after having run my own parishes, led my own churches and directed a parachurch organisation, I moved gradually from being the King of these particular castles to being the grey-haired old man with not as much energy but plenty of experience, and a mind which has learnt to reflect on it so as to be able to help and, I hope, inspire others. I now work training the church leaders of the future, and my experience has become wisdom.

Wisdom is a massive topic in the Bible, and it even forms an important OT genre, the so-called Wisdom literature to be found, among other places, in Proverbs, Ecclesiastes and Job. Proverbs in particular is full of admonitions to young people to pursue wisdom, to embrace it (or, usually, ‘her’) in order to live good and godly lives, although in my experience older people are much more concerned with wisdom, and much better at showing it, than younger people are. So what does the Bible mean when it talks so much about wisdom, and why is it such an important idea?

Solomon is a pretty good guide in helping us to explore this subject. He has just become king, succeeding his father David, who, in spite of a spectacular fall, is still remembered as Israel’s greatest ever king. He is a hard act to follow, so Solomon is no doubt daunted at the task ahead of him. So when God comes to him in a dream and offers him whatever he wants, he is already wise enough to realise that what he most needs is wisdom. Our text tells us more about this encounter, and in particular outlines five characteristics of Solomon’s heart. It is worth saying here, though, that when the OT uses the term, it is not about intelligence of academic success. The term refers to what the French would call savoir-faire, or ‘knowing what to do’. It is about how to live life well, not how to gets lots of letters after your name.

He is aware of others.

He knows that he stands on the shoulders of giants, and in particular he knows that he owes a great debt to his father David. It can be part of the arrogance of younger people that they can see no value in what has gone before, and feel that they have to throw everything out so that they can now do it properly. My area of research, about the abandonment of liturgical worship in youth-orientated churches, is a clear example of this attitude. We have nothing to learn from the fusty old attitudes of the previous generation, because we are young, full of the Spirit, and know it all. Solomon appears to be in awe of his illustrious father.

He understands spirituality.

Furthermore, he gets why David was such a great king: he remained (mostly) faithful to God. He could see that his father’s success was a direct result of him knowing that he had been chosen by God, and that he owed him obedience. David wasn’t simply a great man: he was a godly man. Presumably he understood that any greatness for which he himself might be destined would similarly spring from a relationship of obedience to God.

He exhibits humility.

We might feel his protestations that he is ‘only a little child’ (v.7) a little overblown, but behind it all is the awareness that the task ahead of him is one for which he is not really equipped. Again, this is in stark contrast to many younger people who feel perfectly ready to take on the world. Indeed this is what Eldridge’s ‘Warrior’ phase is all about.

He knows the value of listening.

The Hebrew phrase ‘a discerning heart’ is more accurately translated as ‘a listening heart’. This, along with humility, is a key characteristic of those who are strong leaders but not dictators. To be able to listen deeply both to God and to those whom we are leading is a key element in leadership, along with the ability to remain steadfastly on track even when others would try to divert us or tell us that we are wrong. This is a key skill in leadership, and learning both to listen and to stick to your guns is not an easy thing to do, particularly in a world where ‘democracy’ and ‘collaborative leadership’ have become the order of the day. If a leader is ‘someone whom God tells before he tells anyone else’, the ability to remain true to God’s call and vision whilst not riding roughshod over others is vitally important. I have seen far too many churches in paralysis mode because ‘people won’t like that’.

But there is one more thing we know about Solomon. We won’t find it in this passage: we have to read on further into his life and reign.

He has the ability to blow it.

Whilst this passage speaks in unremittingly glowing terms about Solomon’s potential greatness, we soon learn that even in spite of being the patron saint of sages he is capable of losing the plot and acting really stupidly. I find that terrifying. I like to think of myself as having successfully entered sagehood, and I like the idea that my accrued wisdom and experience are now helping others to live well themselves. But I am also painfully aware that I can be just as unwise as Solomon pretty easily. The calls of Proverbs to young people to thirst after wisdom might seem a bit to premature, but I know that at my ripe old age I too need to keep seeking wisdom from God, and yearning to remain wise

[1] … but you can read all about it in Eldridge, John (2006) The Way of the Wild at Heart. Nashville, TN.: Thomas Nelson.

For those who want a change from the Gospel

Trinity 7 – Isaiah 44:6-8 (Related)

Today’s passage raises a question which is as relevant today as it was in the time of the OT. There is not, and has never been, any doubt that Jewish religion is thoroughly monotheistic. The central affirmation of Judaism, the Shema, calls on the people to know and believe this: ‘Hear O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one’ (Dt 6:4). But what exactly does that mean? Whilst we think we understand the phrase, it can actually mean several different things, all of which are hinted at somewhere or other in the OT.

Does it mean, for example, that Yahweh is the only God for Israel? We know that the worship of Baal worked a bit like the Anglican parish system: you worshipped the particular Baal in whose patch you lived. Move away, or go on a journey, and you would have a different Baal looking after you. This mindset raised huge questions for the Israelites when they were exiled to Babylon. Should they now be joining in with the worship of the local Babylonian gods, since they were now on a different electoral roll? The prophets who were calling people to remain faithful to Yahweh weren’t necessarily denying the existence or the validity of other gods: it was just that Yahweh was the one for them.

Or does it mean, in a similar vein, that among all the gods Yahweh was the greatest, and therefore the best one to worship? That’s the kind of theology behind the worship song ‘Our God is greater’. Other gods might have some power, but Yahweh’s was far superior to anyone else’s, so he was the best one to worship. That just makes sense.

This also raises questions about the mission of Israel. Was their job to call all nations to the worship of Yahweh, or rather was it simply about remaining faithful to their own God and leaving the rest to get on  with theirs, inferior though they might be? See what I mean? A seemingly simple statement may not be quite as clear cut as it at first appears.

It is generally reckoned, though, that our old friend Deutero-Isaiah took this debate to a whole new level, and today’s passage is typical of many such passages in his writing. He is the first prophet to state clearly and emphatically that Yahweh is the only God full stop. Anything else which claims that role is a nothing, even though they might be given physical bodies by their adherents. The chapters around this passage are a scathing condemnation of so-called ‘gods’ who cannot move, but have to be carried around, who cannot see, hear or think, who are completely unable to predict the future, and who at best could be most useful as firewood for cooking your tea. ‘Apart from me there is no God’ cries out the prophet in Yahweh’s name, and the rest of the chapter expands on this rather in the manner of a stand-up comic who uses sharp observation to tell us all what is really going on and make us laugh at ourselves because that’s exactly what we do.

Once we grasp this truth, the mission of God’s people becomes manifestly clear. It is to show all the other nations just how wrong and misguided they are, and to call them to come to the true and only God and follow and worship him. From him alone is wisdom for living to be learned; in him alone is hope and salvation.

You don’t need me to apply this vital message in today’s multi-cultural world. Most Christians presumably believe that Jesus is our God, and many have presumably chosen to believe in him because they think he is the best. But when it comes to our attitudes towards other so-called gods, that is not so clear. It’s probably not a good idea for Christians to worship Vishnu, but is it OK for Hindus? The rise of the pluralism which believes in the equal validity of all systems of belief, which asserts that all roads lead to the same place and it doesn’t much matter which one we follow is a taken-for-granted assumption in our tolerant postmodern world. If we buy that, what does it say about our mission? It seems very non-PC to suggest that the job of Christian mission is to tell others that they are wrong and that they need to believe what we believe in order to be right (which is actually what pretty much all religions really believe, by the way). Maybe Deutero-Isaiah has something important to say to today’s Church, as important as it was for 5^th century Israel.

For those who want a change from the Gospel

Trinity 6 – Isaiah 55:10-13 (Related)

These words form the final section of what we have come to know as ‘Deutero-Isaiah’, the second of three major parts into which the whole book falls. It began in Is 40 with words of comfort to the exiles, who had spent long enough being punished in Babylon and were now due to return home. The next 13 chapters expand on this good news, and paint a picture of who God is for a generation who had been continually exposed to Babylonian idols, and no doubt had begun to wonder whether their own God still had any validity. But in this, the final chapter, God’s future promises begin to broaden out, and his purposes are set against a wider backdrop.

The people must have been relived, when they got over the shock, that after so long God was on the move again. The nation had become powerless as immigrant slaves, and so the idea of a powerful God to set them free must have been immensely appealing. But actually this chapter gives a different message, and the final few verses tell the people a bit more about their relationship with God. The images used are from creation, and there are clear links with the stories which they knew so well from Genesis. Water comes down from heaven and soaks the land, so that fruitfulness results. But this isn’t all up to God: the original creation narratives contain repeated calls to the creation to be fruitful and multiply. Plants must be tended and cared for, and very soon after the sovereign acts of creation by God alone, things move on and there is a partnership.

Whilst it is not easy to extrapolate this message from v.10-13 alone, it makes sense of the earlier verses in the chapter, which call in different ways for a human response to divine activity. God is there, and is sovereignly active, but the people must choose to come to him (v.1), to listen to him (v.2), to seek him (v.6) and to turn to him (v.7). If we do that, then he will do his part and create afresh from the chaos and darkness of exile a land of fruitfulness, prosperity and joy.

We might say, therefore, that the message of this passage is that ‘God helps those who help themselves’, or, perhaps more accurately, God helps those who are willing to work in partnership with him. Here lies a central truth in our Christian gospel: whilst our salvation is all through grace, we have to work it out ourselves. God gives the growth, but after we have prepared the soil and nurtured the plantings. Christians can easily fall into one of two camps: those who are activist and feel that they have to do everything themselves, and those who are superspiritual and believe that if we pray enough God will do it all for us. Both groups have a point but miss the point.

I have found this to be an important lesson in my ministry, particularly among small, scattered rural congregations, just about managing to keep the show on the road, desperately longing to see growth and some people under 80, but struggling to know what on earth they might do about it. Many have been praying for decades to see the next generations becoming part of their churches, yet they are doing very little to make that happen, and may even be doing a lot to prevent it! Leaders, of whom there are fewer and fewer on the ground, seem as hopeless as the people they lead: one priest in my last diocese confided that he had absolutely no idea how to grow his church, which made me wonder about his ministerial training, and what everyone had thought they were training for. There is enough wisdom about to be able to answer questions about how our churches can be more effective, and actually it isn’t rocket science. Just ask the 20% of churches which are growing. But this text reminds us that all growth comes from a partnership between divine action and human co-operation. If Christians were truly to come to God, listen and seek him, and change as a result, we might paradoxically see more of his action.

For those who want a change from the Gospel

Trinity 5 – Zechariah 9:9-12 (Related)

In my final job before retirement one of my roles was to help local churches to write ‘vision statements’ in order to plan for the future. We thought about visionaries as being those who were able to see what could be rather than merely what is, and we talked about ‘writing your history in advance’. Most of the time parish visions were either too small, merely more of the same, or too vague, as in rapid and dynamic growth without the first idea of how they were to achieve it, and, if it was that easy, why they weren’t already doing it. Vision can be powerful, but it also has to be realistic. The next job for me was to help parishes write action plans to help them toward achieving their vision.

Like the book of Isaiah, Zechariah appears to be the product of different historical settings. Just as Isaiah falls into three sections, Zechariah is a game of two halves. Chapters 1-8 seem to have a very clear historical setting, in spite of some of the visions being a bit obscure. But as we move to chapters 9-14 the feel changes. The language is more general; the historical data more vague, and the whole thing seems much harder to pin down to a particular historical setting. The first half is clearly a warning about what God intends to do to send his wayward people into exile, but the second seems more like a vague ‘vision statement’. Sometimes God uses his prophets to tell people in great details what he is about to do, but at others we get a much more vague account of his general intentions, rather than a detailed timetable and action plan.

As such our passage for today can tell us more about God than about the history of the nation. We get an insight into the nature and character of God from his intentions for his people. As a father I always wanted my kids to grow up healthy and happy, to form positive relationships and to become useful and godly citizens. The way they were to work all that out was more their issue than mine! So we might read this passage as a list of things God wished, and wishes, for his people.

1)         Relationship

Here as elsewhere in the OT, Jerusalem or Zion is personified as a daughter, thus casting God in the role of father. The wishes of a father for his daughter are obvious, and no doubt we get our instincts from the Father in whose image we are created. God wants to treat us, his people, as the best possible father would want to treat his beloved kids.

2)         Peace

The next image is of rest from enemies, a particularly poignant motif in the light of Israel’s recent (and in fact less recent) history of warfare, defeat, exile and slavery. God does not mean his people to be an oppressed minority, any more than he wants his Church to be. He certainly does not want us to be oppressed by others who hate us, but rather that through us others should be blessed and find peace themselves.

3)         Freedom

Israel, like many nations throughout history, knew only too well what it meant to be enslaved, often in lands far from their home, and to be treated with cruelty. God’s son was born into an occupied nation who were often treated cruelly and taxed heavily. Zechariah reminds us that this is not part of God’s long-term plan for his people.

4)         Stability

Those who have led nomadic lives will know how important ‘home’ is, and how unsettling it can feel either to be far from home, or not even to know where home is. I have found paradoxically that having retired to Sheffield, with no intention of ever moving away, Essex, which I left in 1979, and where we have very few remaining friends or family, has become increasingly important to me. God knows that we need somewhere to call home, and that wherever we hang out hats doesn’t quite hack it. So just as Abraham and Moses set out towards the place which God had promised for them, so the people are to begin to journey home once again, just as we are all journeying towards our eternal home.

5)         Victory

The paradox at the end of this passage is that the gentle and humble King, whom Jesus knew himself to be, so acting out this passage in his final entry into Jerusalem, is still a warrior. This reminds us, perhaps, that our humble King is not as ‘nice’ as we’d sometimes like to think, and that evil will be finally defeated, and destruction destroyed from the new heavens and earth.

Like all expressions of general hope, this passage begs many questions, including questions about why life is so different from the wonderful world described here. It also makes us want to cry out, as God’s people always have done ‘How long, O Lord?’ When are you going to make all this happen? On this God is infuriatingly vague. Our job is simply to be assured that this is his vision for his people, to hold steadfastly onto it, and to live in that direction.