Persecution

"I'm sick of your religion, religion, religion, while you go right on sinning. When you put on your next prayer-performance, I'll be looking the other way. No matter how long or loud or often you pray, I'll not be listening. And do you know why? Because you've been tearing people to pieces, and your hands are bloody. Go home and wash up. Clean up your act. Sweep your lives clean of your evil-doings so I don't have to look at them any longer. Say no to wrong. Learn to do good. Work for justice. Help the down-and-out. Stand up for the homeless. Go to bat for the defenseless." Isaiah 1: 14-17 (The Message)

I've shied away from dealing with the eighth beatitude. "Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." This is a tough message; the kingdom of heaven belongs to the persecuted.

Persecution is not something that I have had much experience of. When I was at school I encountered a bit of trouble for my faith - but the worst that ever amounted to was repeatedly having small bits of blu-tac flicked into my hair by one rather obnoxious young girl who took it upon herself to disrupt Christian Union meetings. It was painful to remove - but nothing compared to the ills experienced by many who profess the faith.

Last week a colleague of mine gave me an article from Open Doors magazine. It asks the question are we in enough trouble for our faith? It quotes a Beijing pastor:

"When you become a Christian you identify with God, and his enemies become your enemies. And so you become the object of a pursuit by the world and the devil. That is where the trouble comes from."

So the challenge became: how could the idea be brought back to the UK. "Find the defining evil in your area, in your society," said the pastor. "Become a threat to it through the power of God, and then watch for the persecution."

I'm not sure I know how to deal with this. To go looking for persecution sounds all wrong to me. But I believe in doing what is right for the right motives, and maybe a lack of persecution demonstrates that I'm not actually putting that into practice?

The word made flesh

"I seek you with all my heart; do not let me stray from your commands. I have hidden your word in my heart that I might not sin against you. " Ps 119: 10-11

It's been a while since I have written. Moving house, a bout of ill health and other preoccupations have kept me away. The last few weeks have been a spiritually dry place. I have yelled at God a lot. His answers are, more often than not, non-answers. I see this often in scripture. God does not answer man's direct question, choosing rather to focus his replies on strengthening our relationship with him.

Last weekend I was home again, helping my father look after my mother who's Alzheimer's continues to get worse. During this time he told me how little time he had to himself these days. He hardly even finds time to read his bible. Here is someone who has a real cause to yell at God. And yet his words were tinged with hope and joy not sadness or anger. He went on to tell me that many days he just picks a story in his mind and goes over what he knows of it. He has read the bible so many times it has become part of his thinking. So deeply ingrained in his soul that being deprived of the text is no hardship.

As I left, I stole two of my mother's Henri Nouwen books. She cannot read more than a few words without losing the thread these days so I figured she would not miss them. In one of them I found this.

The purpose of a fish trap is to catch fish and when the fish are caught the trap is forgotten. The purpose of a rabbit snare is to snare rabbits and when the rabbits are caught the snare is forgotten. The purpose of the word is to convey ideas. When the ideas are grasped the words are forgotten. Where can I find a man who has forgotten words? He is the one I would like to talk to.

In my thinking about the sermon on the mount I am drawn to conclude that the words are not the important thing, beautiful though they are. It is the lifestyle that is important. The concepts need to be so deeply carved into the fabric of our souls that we live that way without thinking. Looking at the example of my father I fear I still have a long way to go...

Peacemakers

"'Yes we will have peace,' he said now in a clear voice, 'we will have peace, when you and all your works have perished - and the works of your dark master to whom you would deliver us. When you hang from a gibbet at your window for the sport of your own crows, I will have peace with you and Orthanc.'" King Theodon to Saruman(The Lord of the Rings).

Peace, as I am fond of saying, is not the absence of war but the opposite of it. Sometimes the only path to it is through conflict. But what should my role as a Christian be in that? The seventh beatitude says "Blessed are the peacemakers for they will be called sons of God". I doubt somehow that Jesus had in mind the kind of peace-making that Theodon is talking about. Or the cynical attitude that led to the name Peacemaker being given to a handgun or a ballistic missile.

In Finding Sanctuary, Christopher Jamieson says this:

People have to build peace in relationships and they do so by creating relationships founded on fairness and respect. [...] Yet the greatest test of building peace is how we react to unfair treatment at the hands of others. We need to respond to such treatment not only fairly but also compassionately; only then do we really build peace. Hating our enemies, for example, does not build peace. We must resist injustice, but the high calling of peace-building invites us not to hate those who perpetrate it.

Grace

"A great rabbi stands teaching in the marketplace. It happens that a husband finds proof that morning of his wife's adultery, and a mob carries her to the marketplace to stone her to death.

The famous version of this story is noteworthy because it is so startlingly rare in our experience. Most communities lurch between decay and rigor mortis, and when they veer too far, they die. Only one rabbi dared to expect of us such a perfect balance that we could preserve the law and still forgive the deviation. So, of course, we killed him." Orson Scott Card - Speaker for the Dead.

Over the years I have wondered about the lists of the Bible. The fruit of the spirit for example. Is this an exhaustive list or some examples? Has Paul researched and distilled the fundamental attributes which spirit-filled life results in? Or take the beatitudes. Is Jesus giving a set of exhaustive statements that if you do A then you get B? Is it only the pure in heart who see God? Is it only the meek who inherit the earth?

With a modern mindset it is easy to approach the bible as a user guide for life. A systematic set of instructions with associated punishments and rewards. The style, however, is more poetic than that. Jesus expresses attitudes rather than rules; grace rather than judgement.

The structure of the beatitudes is interesting. Recently I heard a theologian say that the repeated refrain "for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" is simply a literary convention of the day to indicate that this is a self-contained section. Possibly. I wonder, however, in parenthesising the statement with the refrain whether Jesus was not saying that all of these things are the kingdom of heaven. Seeing God, being comforted, being shown mercy...

For me the beatitudes represent a flavour of the kind of behaviours which characterise the kingdom. I doubt they are an exclusive set but they are, undoubtedly, a challenging set.

Am I hungry enough?

"Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled" Matt 5:6

In his book The Jesus I Never Knew Philip Yancey devotes an entire chapter to the beatitudes. In it he unpacks the concept that the beatitudes represent a "Psychological Reality".

Not only did Jesus offer an ideal for us to strive toward, with appropriate rewards in view; not only did he turn the tables on our success-addicted society; he also set forth a plain formula of psychological truth, the deepest level of truth we can know on earth. The beatitudes reveal that what succeeds in the kingdom of heaven also benefits us most in this life here and now.

He goes on to talk about the hopelessness which sits at the core of so many lives we would consider to be successful - the movie stars who are drug addicts, the comedians who are pathologically lonely - and the blessing which enriches the lives of many who we would look on as servants.

I love the way that The Message puts this beatitude: "You're blessed when you've worked up a good appetite for God. He's food and drink in the best meal you'll ever eat". So why is it that I so often find myself running after the things which don't fill me up? It takes a concerted effort to stop judging success by the world's standards. Even a daily focus on God has not stopped me straying.

Create in me a pure heart, O God

"Who may ascend the hill of the LORD ? Who may stand in his holy place? He who has clean hands and a pure heart " Psalm 24: 3-4

The sixth beatitude contains a lovely promise. "Blessed are the pure in heart for they will see God". Something to greatly desire. Yet the route to the promise is not an easy one. To see God we must be pure in heart.

In the opening chapter of Finding Sanctuary Christopher Jamieson talks about the doorway to our personal sanctuary as being virtue. Interestingly he defines virtue primarily in terms of our relationships with others, saying: "The basic starting point for entering sanctuary is the quality of your day-to-day dealings with other people". Our dealings with those around us demonstrate the grain of hearts.

It seems to me that the outward demonstration has to be driven by an inner change, and the inner change is not something we can effect in our own strength. In C S Lewis' book The Voyage of the Dawn Treader Eustace - who starts off as a nasty piece of work - places a bracelet on his arm and wakes to find himself changed into a dragon. The bracelet which fitted his arm as a boy, is too small for his dragon limbs and is very painful. To ease the pain he wishes to bathe in a pool - but Alsan tells him first he must undress. He makes several attempts to peel off a layer of skin - but all are inadequate. Finally Aslan offers to do it for him.

The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought he had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I have ever felt. [...] Well, he peeled the beastly stuff off - just as I thought I'd done the other three times only they hadn't hurt - and there it was lying on the grass: only so much thicker, and darker, and more knobbly looking than the others had been. And there was I as smooth and as soft as a peeled switch. [...] As soon as I started swimming and splashing I found that the pain had gone from my arm. And then I saw why. I'd turned into a boy again.

Eustace's experience reflects my own. My efforts are feeble. My resolutions get broken before the ink is even dry. I need God's help for this. My prayer is the prayer of David from psalm 51: "Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow."

Small is beautiful

I'm not quite sure how to approach the beatitudes. They are so counter-intuitive. Are they a promise for the future or a statement of fact? Is Jesus saying that they are ideals or reality? It is easy to see them as being a nice piece of speaker's rhetoric; a poetic statement of contradictions which sounds profound but contains no real substance. Yet somehow I think they are more than that.

Take the third one for example. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. On the surface it seems all wrong. We know it is the rich, the powerful, the ruthless who run things. And yet do they truly inherit the earth? Is anything they create built to last? History is packed with empires which crumble when their founder dies. This is true in the business world too.

In the book Good to Great Jim Collins comes to the surprising conclusion that what sets apart the most successful leaders is "a paradoxical blend of personal humility and professional will." Humility at the heart of success? Maybe Jesus knew what he was talking about after all.

The more I think about it, the more convinced I become that the establishment of the kingdom is not something which can be franchised. The most successful examples of kingdom life spring from small groups of people engaging with their communities in projects that they are passionate about. As such projects grow there is the temptation to become more professional. To move away from the model of Christ and to take on business principles. The danger of this is that the workers become employees not disciples. It doesn't always happen, of course. There are some excellent Christian charities with dedicated staff. I believe, however, that these are the exception, not the norm. The kingdom is about the insignificant rubbing shoulders with the disenfranchised and both being transformed in the process...

Out of the depths

"Out of the depths I cry to you! Oh Lord hear my prayer. Listen to my cry for mercy. If you kept a record of sins who could stand before you? But with you there is forgiveness, so you are worshipped. I wait for the Lord and put my hope in his word. My soul waits for you, oh Lord, more than a nightwatchman waits for the dawn." Psalm 130: 1-6

The beatitudes intrigue me. They are beautiful and strange. They seem to sit at the core of Jesus' teaching, and yet they are very enigmatic statements. The first tells us more about the kingdom: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."

I'm not sure exactly what it means to be poor in spirit. I wish I could remember what Yancey said in The Jesus I Never Knew but I have lent my copy to a friend! Maybe an understanding of what it it is to be poor could help. The current trendy definition of material poverty is "lack of choice", but I'm not sure how useful that is here. A more conventional definition of material poverty would be a substantial lack of the basic resources needed to daily living. So how does this translate into the spiritual realm?

The Message expresses this beatitude as "You're blessed when you're at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule." I love that. I remember reading it on a hill above Buttermere last summer and thinking that the end of my rope seemed a long way behind me.

I'm not sure about the accuracy of this translation, but the feel of it rings true to me. I think that spiritual poverty is more about acknowledgement than absolute status. Some people do not recognise the need for spirituality. Some think that they have it all figured out. Some shun help and struggle on with a brave face. It takes courage to admit spiritual poverty. Yet this scripture seems to say to me that it is only when we admit to it and looking for resources beyond our own that we start to see the kingdom.