The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune...

"We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body." 2 Cor 4: 8-11

The last few days have been quite hard. A series of items of bad news from different directions. I guess that is the experience of many in troubled times. I'm still not sure that I know how to deal with any of it. In the midst of all the bad news though I read the passage above. Paul sounds so confident. He states the case as fact. We are not crushed, not abandoned, not destroyed and not in despair. Perhaps he's right. But I would be lying if I said I was not discouraged.

A couple of times this week I have muttered under my breath "It would be nice to have some good news for a change, Lord." And I know that sounds almost like sacrilege, because what is the Gospel if not good news? But that is not entirely how I meant it.

This weekend I visited my mother again. Yesterday she seemed very low. She almost didn't engage. As I have said before (in my posting the Long Defeat) it is heart-rending to see her slowly slipping away. Today by contrast she seemed happier. We sang a bit. We walked. I quoted old films and made her giggle. She even managed a sentence of four words at one point. It was nice to see her smiling. I guess this is good news. But somehow it doesn't quite feel like it.

The sufficiency of grace

An out of the blue comment spurred me to look back at what I've written here. It's been a long time since my last post. That's not because the quest for the kingdom has been abandoned. It is just an increasing realisation that so much of the journey is intensely personal. My energies have been directed more toward private journal than public blog. So what has changed? In many ways not a great deal. I'm still in the same job. My mother still has Alzheimer's - she is now transitioning into full term care. I'm still searching for vision. I'm still shouting at God. He's still being gracious enough to whisper back occasionally. Health, stress and circumstances I don't like (but can't change) still cause me more worry than I believe that they should.

Some things, however, have changed. Just slightly. Perhaps even I've changed a bit. It feels like I've learned lots. My language has changed. It's almost as if I've run out of words. I no longer know what to say to God. That does not stop me going into his presence. If anything it spurs me to spend more time there. I cannot quite unpick whether this lack stems from the noise of the city and the cares of the world pushing them out - or a realisation that so many of my words of old were a futile attempt to control God rather than let him control me. Now when I find my prayers relating to my perception of my needs and the request for my solutions I feel this little voice in the back of my head saying "Do you trust me, Ian?" to which I can but reply "Yes Lord, I trust you. (Or at least I'd like to)". The other phrase which is resounding in my mind is that wonderful promise from 2 Corinthians. "My grace is sufficient for you." The only reply I can frame to that runs roughly thus: "Yes, Lord, but sometimes it really doesn't feel like it."

So what is repentance?

In starting this blog, I feel I may have made a mistake. I really don't want it to appear that I know where I am going with this. These are issues that I am wrestling with. The problem is that as a writer I want to write something neat. Something that reads well. I am finding it hard to present my inner struggle without sounding like I've already reached my conclusions! Maybe as I push deeper the uncertainties will become more apparent. Anyway...

It would be easy to race on into Matthew, but I can't get past this just yet. What exactly does it mean to repent? The definition of the word is relatively clear. To turn away from wrong-doing. The application is less so.

I have heard it said "you get what you focus on" and, whilst I don't entirely buy this, there is a grain of truth within it. There is a story told about a group of novice parachutists jumping from a plane to land in a huge empty field with a single bush in the middle. As each one jumped the instructor said to them, "Whatever you do, don't land in the bush." Most of them focused on the bush for their entire descent, and as a consequence that is where they landed.

Over the years the church has had a lot to say about sin, and about all the things God expects us not to do. As a consequence many of us become either resigned to or paralysed by our failures. We forget the grace of God. Yet the message of the cross is surely that sin is dealt with. If we ask forgiveness God does not dwell on our sin, and I don't think he expects us to either.

If we concentrate on sin we become insecure, judgemental and critical, and the church becomes an unwelcoming place for the outsider. I know I am often guilty of this. In consequence Jesus, whilst totally honest, was very welcoming to the outsider. The people he was hardest on were the religious leaders who made it hard for people to approach God.

I used to equate repentance with saying sorry. A long list of wrongs to apologise for. Now I am not so sure. Asking for forgiveness is clearly important, as is genuine penitence, however, I am increasingly unconvinced that the focus of repentance should be on wrong-doing. Paul tells us in Corinthians 5 "If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!" In turning away from wrong-doing we have to turn towards something else. I am starting to wonder if what we repent to is far more important than what we repent from.