Pilgrim Soldier

One of the problems with college life is that it raises questions that make you ponder but then another question crops up in the next lecture and you forget what you were pondering as you ponder anew! Sometimes though a thought breaks through the morass of ponderings and takes up residence in the forefront of your mind. On those occasions it suddenly seems that everything points to that same thought and its just that you are seeing it from different angles! This is one such thought!

It’s a couple of years ago now that I suddenly realised that Jesus passed the mantle of being the “Light of the World” to us, his followers. It seems like quite a ‘thick’ thing to say because I’m sure everyone else had already grasped this. However, I wasn’t quite as quick on the uptake as others. I knew it but had never made the link to the same phrase being used about him. This isn’t the thought though, its just background!

What has come to me over the last few weeks and is something that I am desperately trying to work out in my own mind is what us being the “Light of the world” actually means. And what I’ve realised is that all too often we don’t use it correctly!

What happens when you turn the light on in a dark room? It illuminates the room of course and you see things as they really are. Of course there are shadows and we can see the dust on surfaces, but the light doesn’t point it out, it simply lightens the darkness! All too often we, and I include myself in this, go into dark places and start pointing out all the dirt in those places. Instead of simply lighting up the room we take it upon ourselves to show how dirty and dusty and shadow-filled that room is!

But if we look at what Jesus does in the Gospels we see a man who simply goes into the dark places of the world and sheds the light of his presence. He doesn’t point out the sin in the lives of those people he encounters, well he does but normally only when they are supposed to already be living in the light and are the religious people. Instead he simply allows people to see the dirt themselves and allows them to decide what to do about it themselves.

I’m beginning to realise that this is what we’re supposed to do as well. It’s about us taking God’s light out in the world’s ever increasing dark places and lighting up the room. We don’t need to point out the dirt because if our light is being truly effective, people will see it anyway. All we have to do is spread God’s light and give people the chance to see their lives in the light of God!

The following is part of my sermon for this morning. The sermon as a whole is based on the story of Peter walking on the water, and why he started to sink.

I believe that Jesus is desperately trying to reach out to many Christians who are floundering in their faith because they have taken their spiritual eyes of him. The tragedy is that many of those he is reaching out to, don’t even realise they have a problem! They are like the church in Ephesus that is spoken to by the angel in Revelation 2:

I know your deeds, your hard work and your perseverance. I know that you cannot tolerate wicked men, that you have tested those who claim to be apostles but are not, and have found them false. You have persevered and have endured hardships for my name, and have not grown weary. Yet I hold this against you: You have forsaken your first love. Remember the height from which you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first.

When we are first saved we are so in love with Jesus that we follow him unreservedly. We would get out of the boat and walk on water for him, but slowly but surely there is the danger that we allow the problems of our lives to divert some of our attention from Jesus. And slowly but surely we lose the gleam of that first love. We stop taking risks for him, whilst at the same time carry on doing the stuff that he has asked us to do. Our willingness to be busy for Jesus takes over from simply being with him, and we become like Martha in Luke 10:38-42 where she is so busy making sure everything is right, that she is in danger of missing out on simply spending time with Jesus.

And of course the real problem with Martha is that she didn’t even realise that what she was doing was wrong. In fact, she wanted her sister to join with her!

In Jesus’ response to this situation there is a sense of a gentle chastisement. “Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed.” I get the image in my mind that Jesus was gently patting the cushions next to him, trying to convey the sense that he simply wanted to spend time with her!

The root of everything that goes wrong in our faith is when we stop focussing on Jesus! When we concentrate on him then we can deal with whatever comes our way and our faith need not suffer. Of course it’s difficult, but its the only way!

The best thing in life really is free! Thanks Jon for the reminder!

For the majority of Jesus’ life, he lived in a small village called Nazareth. Other than an annual pilgrimage to Jerusalem for the Passover festival, the likelihood is that he would have not ventured many miles from his home. He lived, worked, worshipped and socialised in Nazareth. It was only when he started his itinerant ministry that he started to travel about a lot, and even then the geographical area he kept to was relatively small.

Today, many of us commute. We get in our cars or onto buses or trains and travel quite a distance to work, school, college, and of course to shop. It’s a reality in this modern world of ours. But at least we worship locally! Or do we? How many of us actually attend the Salvation Army corps nearest to us?

Let me be the first to admit my guilt here: For at least 13 years, I did not attend the corps that was nearest to where I lived, and for about two-and-a-half of those years I bypassed several corps to get to the one I did attend at that time. As for the number of churches I passed, I wouldn’t even like to guess! The reasons I did this – and why others still do – are varied and seemed entirely justifiable, but now I realise they aren’t.

“The Word became flesh and moved into the neighbourhood.”
(John 1:14, The Message)

You see, I’m increasingly convinced that one of the major issues facing the Church today (and therefore by default one of the reasons so many of our corps are declining) is a lack of credible local witness.

Next time you go to your corps, have a look around your congregation and ask yourself how many of those people live within easy walking distance of the hall. How many have to catch a bus or drive to the corps?

We’re often great at offering services to the communities around our halls, but how effective are we at the day-to-day witness of simply being salt and light in those same communities? What sort of message does it send out when the majority of people attending our corps on a Sunday are not seen at any other point in the week? In fact, come to think of it, how many of us know the names of the kids who hang around outside causing trouble?

Too many of us spend too much time travelling too long a distance to our corps, and it’s normally for reasons that are about ourselves rather than others. Should we all then move house to be more local? It’s probably not realistic to expect that, although for some it might be what’s needed. Should we attempt to stop bypassing other corps when we go to worship our Lord? Quite possibly!

But of more importance than this is that we become visible in some way in our communities. If we want to reach out to the communities that surround our corps buildings, then at the very least we should be finding ways to involve ourselves personally in their lives. If it’s too difficult because of distance, then maybe we should be seeking ways to become more visible in the community in which we live.

I believe that when we get involved locally, both as individuals and as fellowships which are led by the Spirit, then we will start to see God at work in the things we do. When we start to worship where we live, or live where we worship, then we cannot fail to see God at work. When we serve the communities in which we live as a fellowship of God’s people, then God’s light will be evident to those around us. You see, how will people see the light of God in their communities if the Christ-appointed “lights of the world” aren’t there to turn the lights on 24/7? Some might say that it is enough for us to pray for that, but surely only the permanent presence of Christians living as salt and light will really flick the switch and keep it on.

After all, Jesus came to earth and moved into his neighbourhood of Nazareth. Shouldn’t we move into ours too?

First published at theRubicon 10 April 2008

In his book on Christian Community, “Life Together” Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote these words:

“The Old Testament day begins at evening and ends with the going down of the sun. It is the time of expectation. The day of the New Testament church begins with the break of day and ends with the dawning light of the next morning. It is the time of fulfilment, the resurrection of the Lord. At night Christ was born, a light in the darkness; noonday turned to night when Christ suffered and died on the Cross. But in the dawn of Easter morning Christ rose in victory from the grave.”

At dawn on that first Easter morning, almost 2000 years ago, there was no hope; there was only desolation in the hearts of that handful of women who made their way to the garden tomb to anoint the body held within. It must have been a sombre and soul-destroying walk from their rented rooms to that borrowed grave.

Imagine for a moment the horror there must have been when they saw the tomb lying open. Surely it must have brought into their minds the ultimate finale to the events they had witnessed. Not only had Jesus been brutally flogged; not only had he been nailed to a cross; but now his burial place had been desecrated. How much more were they doing to have to bear?

But then, as they peered through the entrance to see the damage they feared had been done, they saw an angel; an angel who pronounced that Jesus was no longer there but had risen to life again.

This is the message that is the centre of our hope; this is the message that forms the centre of the gospel which we are called to proclaim!

This was no ordinary resurrection, if there can be such a thing. This was not the sort that we read of in the Old Testament or even like those in Jesus’ miracles. No this resurrection was unlike any ever witnessed, either before or since, for Jesus died full of our sin but rose empty of it. He took our sins to hell and then left them there so that we could stand blameless before our God.

This is the hope of this morning’s dawn; this is the hope of Easter; this is the hope of the gospel; that Jesus died and rose again, so that all who declare Jesus as Lord may not only live in eternity with him, but may also be signposts of that hope in this dark world.

This is the power of the Cross, that the man who contained the fullness of God himself died to free us from the burden of sin. He paid the price that we rightfully should pay, because He not only loves us, but is love. The result is that when we come before God we can stand before him in the sure and certain knowledge that because of the cross our sin have been redeemed!

Over the last couple of days I’ve been listening to an interview between Shane Claiborne and Krista Tippett that I downloaded from the American Public Media section of iTunesU. It’s well worth downloading if you get a chance as Claiborne is truly inspiring in the outworking of his faith.

The interview is full of sections that would be great to quote but the one that struck me most was something that Claiborne attributed to Mother Theresa:

In the poor we see Jesus in his most distressing disguises!

Whilst still listening a thought immediately popped into my head:

… and far too often we turn our faces away from him.

Why, despite everything that the Bible says about God’s particular regard for the poor, do so many of us find it difficult to put our belief into practice when it comes to this particular area?