Holy Excitement

If we could but show the world that being committed to Christ is no tame, humdrum, sheltered monotony, but the most thrilling, exciting adventure the human spirit could ever know, those who have been standing outside the church and looking askance at Christ would come crowding in to pay allegiance, and we might well expect the greatest revival since Pentecost.
Dr. James Stewart

I've always been a big fan of Star Wars - it was released when I was ten years old - and I still remember the feeling I had first seeing the advertising posters on the London Underground. This week the trailer for the new Disney+ Star Wars series Andor came out. Watching the trailer takes me right back into the same set of feelings. It stirs something deep within. That boy-hood thirst for quest and adventure. The longing for a narrative that is bigger than self. As Luthen Rael says in the trailer: "I need all the heroes I can get".

This week I was also reading a biography of Bill Bright. In it, I found the above quotation from Dr James Stewart. It echos a prayer that I have been praying for these last few months. A prayer for holy excitment. The gospel is dynamite. Jesus is the most compelling figure in history. So why is that that for many, Christianity is dull? To live our lives fully for him should be "the most thrilling adventure the human spirit can know". In recent months I have seen glimpses of such excitment, in my own life and in the lives of others. My prayer is for more. For an upwelling of holy excitement that is contagious. For a new generation of people, of heroes, so sold out for Jesus that it shows in their every action. For the accelerating pace of revival, as everyday people fall in love with Christ and share that love with their friends.

Holy Discontent

As Jesus went on from there, he saw a man named Matthew sitting at the tax collector’s booth. “Follow me,” he told him, and Matthew got up and followed him
Matthew 9: 9

The next person in Matthew's gospel that we see following Jesus is Matthew, the tax collector. Whilst the fishermen of chapter four might have been unlikely choices, Matthew is downright controversial. He works for the enemy. He is in the words of the pharisees "a sinner". Yet, once again, like the fishermen, he does exactly what he is told. He gets up, follows Jesus, and invites all of his friends to meet him. This is a stark contrast from the teacher of the law in Matthew 8. So why is it that Matthew when called leaves everything and follows, whilst the teacher of the law declares in bravado he will follow and then doesn't?

The clue seems to be in verse 12. "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick". Now to be clear, in God's eyes we are all in need of the doctor. As Paul says in Romans we have all sinned and fallen short. The difference is that Matthew recognises this, whilst the teacher of the law doesn't. Matthew's need to follow Jesus outweighs the discomforts of following him. Often our prayers are for an easy life - but it is those who are spiritually discontented who have the impetus to get up and follow.

The cost of following Jesus

A teacher of the law came to him and said, “Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go.” Jesus replied, “Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.”
Matthew 8: 18-19

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about the need for action when following the disciple-making Jesus. As we delve deeper into Matthew's gospel, this need becomes even clearer. Matthew eight contains two accounts of people who said that they would follow Jesus. Unlike the fishermen of chapter four, these men both state their intention to follow him, rather than receiving an invitation. In both cases, Jesus immediately raises the stakes. We never hear of either of these men again. The implication is that the cost is too high. Following him is not merely an intellectual decision. It has real-life consequences.

For the teacher of the law, Jesus issues a warning. If you follow me, you make yourself homeless. Discipleship is not a well-paid profession. It is a radical call to leave behind the things in which we place our security. By making our gospel purely about salvation when we die we allow ourselves the easy option of getting on with our lives and avoiding any sacrifice. Yes, Jesus death on the cross is the only sacrifice needed for our salvation, but it doesn't mean there is no other cost. As Bonhoeffer says "Salvation is free, but discipleship will cost you your life."

Following the disciple-making Jesus

As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew. They were casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. “Come, follow me,” Jesus said, “and I will send you out to fish for people.” At once they left their nets and followed him
Matthew 4:18‭-‬20 (NIV)

Recently I have found myself thinking a lot about discipleship. Wondering exactly what it is. An immediate glib response would be that it is following Jesus. The question is, however, what exactly does that look like.

Often as I have discussed evangelism with people it seems to come down to offering people the chance to accept Jesus. We give a presentation of the gospel like the four spiritual laws or the three circles, and ask people to say the sinner's prayer. Whilst I have nothing against these methods as a way of engaging people in a spiritual conversation, I don't really see them as having much to do with following Christ. Accepting him as Saviour, yes, but actually following him?

When Jesus called his disciples he did not give a gospel presentation. He simply asked them to follow him. Physically follow him. Stop what they were doing, get up and walk with him.

The implications of the gospel is that the twelve were disciples long before they were Christians. I wonder if by making evangelism all about decision rather than action we are missing an opportunity to truly disciple people?

The hallmark of the kingdom

"Ooh, your love is a symphony, all around me, running through me.
Ooh, your love is a melody, underneath me, running to me.
Oh your love is a song..."
Your love is a song (Switchfoot)

If you were to ask anyone on the street what is the first word that comes into mind when they think of Christianity, I wonder what they would say? Somehow I doubt for many that the word woul be love. Yet in John's Gospel Jesus says love is the mark by which we will be known as his disciples. Our love for one another. It comes right after Jesus demonstrates his love for his disciples by washing their feet. It come not long before Jesus demonstrates his love for the whole world by sacrificing his life.

Practical love means not judging. Not excluding. Not obsessing over doctrine or theology. Practical love means getting our hands dirty and engaging with people where they are. Mind you, I'm not saying it is something I'm good at - but it is definately something to aspire to!

"If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing."

1 Corinthians 13: 1-4

Righteous not ritual

"I can see a swath of sinners settin' yonder
And they're actin' like a pack of fools.
Gazin' into space lettin' their minds wander,
'Stead of studyin' the good Lord's rules.
You better pay attention,
Build your comprehension,
There's gonna be a quiz at your ascension.
Not to mention any threat of hell,
But if you're smart you'll learn your lessons well!"
Godspell (Stephen Schwartz & John-Michael Tebelak)

I'm currently reading A Generous Orthodoxy by Brian McLaren. It's an intriguing book. McLaren looks at many strands of Christianity and concludes - by emphasizing the best of them, and ignoring or redefining the worst of them - that he is all of them. My own approach has often been to conclude that I am none of them, but my method is much the same. Take the best. Ignore or adapt the best. Admit that you are unlikely to be right. Refuse to judge others or feel 'superior' about their theological errors.

One important thing strikes me from his book though. Jesus ministry was a practical expression of God's love. Yet all too often we can treat it as if we are cramming for a theory test.

...many orthodoxies have always and everywhere assumed that orthodox (right-thinking and opinion about the gospel) and orthopraxy (right practice of the gospel) could and should be separated. In that traditional setting orthodoxy could be articulated and debated by scholars who had little responsibility to actually live by or live out the orthodoxy they defended.

A generous orthodoxy (Brian McClaren)

A misunderstanding...

"One Sabbath Jesus was going through the grain fields, and as his disciples walked along, they began to pick some heads of grain. The Pharisees said to him, 'Look, why are they doing what is unlawful on the Sabbath?'

Then he said to them, 'The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath. So the Son of Man is Lord even of the Sabbath.'" Mark 2:23,24,27&28 (NIV)

This story has really piqued my curiosity in the last week or so. It occurs to me this is one of the few places where we get to see behind the curtain. Jesus gives us a glimpse into God's motives for setting the Sabbath law.

The pharisees had come to a place where the written law was more important to them than God. They thought observance of the law in its own right was enough to grant access into the presence of God. But that was not God's intention at all.

In the Old Testament it is interesting that the law is given after the Isralites were rescued from Egypt. God had already redeemed them. He gave them the law, not to save them - but to show them how to live now that they were saved. He also gave them the sacrifical system because he understood they could never live up to the law. The principal sin of Old Testament Israel was not that it sinned, but that it turned to idols to make amends rather than trusting in God's provision. The pharisees avoided the mistake of idolatry - but they fell into the trap of trusting their own good works rather than God's provision.

And then along comes Jesus and tells them that not only is observance of the law insufficient, it is, in this case, misguided. God created the sabbath law not because he demanded it, but because he knew we needed it.

The longest night

"I hope no one who reads this book has been quite as miserable as Susan and Lucy were that night, but if you have been - if you've been up all night and cried till you have no more tears left in you - you will know that there comes in the end a sort of quietness. You feel as if nothing is ever going to happen again. At any rate that was how it felt to these two." - The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (C.S.Lewis)

It is impossible to fully comprehend the joy of Easter Sunday without appreciating the despair of Good Friday. Much like my Christmas Eve comment, it is all too easy to race forward to Easter Sunday. Yet Christ's resurrection only makes sense in the light of his crucifixion. Good Friday is sombre and bleak. It is the ultimate breakdown of relationship between God and man. Its sorrow a long shadow of the grief which would ensue if it truly where the end and not just the pause for breath before a new beginning. In holy week we see a model of the whole of history. Man's rebellion and God's salvation. Millenia of struggle compressed into three short days.

Understanding the pause helps too. The long night and empty day between the Friday night and the Sunday morning. For in some ways we're still in that pause. Salvation has arrived - dawn is already breaking. But for those on earth it feels like night still lingers on...

The silent saviour

"He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth." Isaiah 53: 7

"...we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory. I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us." Romans 8:17-18 (NIV)

This holy week if one thing has struck me, it is the poise of Jesus in the face of his suffering. His prayers in the garden reveal that he is not without doubts, not without questions, not without fears. Yet despite that, he approaches it head on. He rides calmly to Jerusalem knowing how it will end. He responds to his accusers with simple dignity. He does not fight. He does not succumb to anger. He does not even grumble or vent his stress on his followers. As Good Friday approaches it makes me wonder about my own approach to hardship. Ultimately I may trust God for the outcome but all too often that does not stop me from expressing my bitterness at the process.

A thrill of hope! The weary world rejoices

"But amidst all these rejoicings Aslan himself quietly slipped away. And when the Kings and Queens noticed that he wasn't there they said nothing about it. For Mr Beaver had warned them, 'He'll be coming and going,' he had said. 'One day you'll see him and another you won't. He doesn't like to be tied down - and of course he has other countries to attend to. It's quite all right. He'll often drop in. Only you mustn't press him. He's wild you know. Not like a tame lion'" - The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. (C.S.Lewis)

On Christmas Eve I find myself thinking about God's timing. History pivots on this night. The old testament leans forward towards it. The new testament is possible only because of it. The message renders Romans 5:6 as "Christ arrives right on time to make this happen. He didn't, and doesn't, wait for us to get ready."

As an evangelical it is too easy to race on forwards to Easter. To view this night solely in the context of the future. But perhaps tonight we, like Mary, should treasure the moment in our hearts. For God acts when he chooses to act. His coming, his transformation, his salvation are on his terms, not ours and our understanding of his actions is so very limited.

In the words of the carol

"Led by the light of faith serenely beaming,
With glowing hearts by his cradle we stand.
So led by light of a star sweetly gleaming,
Here come the wise men from orient land.
The King of kings lay thus in lowly manger;
In all our trials born to be our friend.

He knows our need, to our weakness is no stranger,
Behold your King! Before him lowly bend!
Behold your King, Behold your King."

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.

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...

Good news

"Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, preaching the good news of the kingdom, and healing every disease and sickness among the people." Matthew 4: 23

After his baptism and time in the wilderness Jesus begins to travel. What is interesting to me is that people seem eager to hear what he has to say. He calls a number of people to follow him and they do. People flock to hear what he has to say. Okay, so many of them are just there to be healed or perhaps have come along for the spectacle, but the central message is magnetic. Good News.

In the twenty-first century, the church has a patchy reputation. People often see us as kill-joys. They certainly do not associate us with good news. Sometimes I think that secretly I don't either. If I did, why do I so often choose to be of the world as well as in it? And yet I wonder if integrity was the key to Jesus' magnetism. The fact that he lived what he believed wholeheartedly. He was honest enough not to reduce the gospel down to a religious system, but rather to live each moment as an expression of his relationship with God.

The message of the gospel is counter-cultural and it's difference is part of what makes it attractive. By blending in, am I watering it down? Am I turning it from good news to bland news. Living differently is hard. All too often I give in, but I guess I'll never really know if it works - unless I try…

The powerhouse of silence...

After his baptism the second act that Jesus undertakes before commencing his ministry is to withdraw into the desert and fast. We are not told what he did for most of this time, but I think we can make a good guess. Throughout the gospels we find Jesus periodically withdrawing to quiet, lonely places to spend time alone with God.

Mark 1 verse 35 is a good example: "Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed." In the short yet powerful book, Out of Solitude, Henri Nouwen makes the following observation on this verse:

The more I read this silent sentence locked in between the loud words of action, the more I sense that the secret of Jesus' ministry is hidden in the lonely place where he went to pray, early in the morning, long before dawn. In the lonely place, Jesus finds the courage to follow God's will and not his own; to speak God's word and not his own; to do God's work and not his own.

The time Jesus spends in his father's presence is the powerhouse for his ministry. It is how he centres himself on his purpose.

I am currently working my way through the book Finding Sanctuary by Christopher Jamieson (the Abbot of Worth Abbey). The book, subtitled Monastic steps for Every Day Life, is a remarkably accessible look at applying the Rule of St Benedict to ordinary living. In it Jamieson describes quietness as the carpet of our personal sanctuary.

Silence is not an end in itself; it is there to let inner silence grow so that the inner life might flourish. A gardening analogy may help here: if you have not been used to silence, the first thing you will notice when you enter into it are the distractions inside yourself - the weeds. Even when you pull them up and throw them away, they grow back again quickly and you wonder why you bothered. But you need to keep weeding in order to let the flowers grow. The flowers in this case are the words from God that can grow if you have cleared a space for them.

Over the last couple of weeks I have been experimenting with this. Trying to weave silence into my life. It has not been easy; there are distractions from without and within. Jamieson suggests starting with five minutes a day and working up from this. Most days I fail even my five minutes. The clamour of my head is just too loud. Yet in persevering I am beginning to see some of the benefit. Moving towards God does not offer any easy answers, but it does provide a new perspective. The kingdom does not reveal itself easily, but perhaps the process of searching for it is required to change us so we can dwell in it?

Holiness

It is interesting to note how Jesus begins his transformation. Matthew's gospel shows Jesus undertaking two concrete actions before commencing his public ministry. The first is a symbolic act, baptism.

New Testament Christians associate baptism with Jesus' death and resurrection - symbolising death to sin and new life. John, however, did not have the benefit of Paul's letter to the Romans. For the Jew it is likely that baptism would have been seen as a purification ritual. Such rituals were performed to cleanse people or objects. To make them fit for worship. The old testament outlines many such rituals for making things pure. For setting things apart, or making them holy.

It seems to me that the concept of holiness has become devalued. We think now of holiness as being an aloof perfection. Holy people are not comfortable to be with because they will judge us and look down on our failings. Yet Jesus is the ultimate in holiness, and for the most part he seems to have been a very approachable person. People were fascinated by him. 2,000 years have gone by and people are still captivated by him.

This throws down a challenge to me. In repenting; in realigning my life towards the kingdom of God; in being transformed I should be becoming more approachable. More open to those around me. More visibly Christ-like. It is a high standard to attain.

Fortunately we are not expected to attain it unaided. The baptism of John was symbolic. John says of it "I baptise you with water for repentance, but he will baptise you with the holy spirit." The baptism of today should be more than symbolic. Baptism in water is external. It cannot actually change our hearts and attitudes. The baptism of the spirit is internal. The spirit wells up inside and powers the transformation. But this will happen only if I let it, and all too often I don't.

Transformers...

"Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind." Romans 12: 2

This week I saw the movie Transformers. Lots of slick CGI and overly fast action sequences interleaved with some clumsy, moralising dialogue, good old fashioned heroics and a fairly standard good versus evil plot. The best bit for me were the sequences where the robots transformed. In the space of a few skidding yards Optimus Prime changes from a truck into a towering biped robot, and turns to face the enemy. Despite the transformation, however, you can still see the elements of the truck from which he has come.

Transformation is one of my favourite biblical concepts. Although the actual word occurs only three times in the new testament, the idea is deeply embedded. In Matthew 3 and 4, we see Jesus change from a carpenter from Nazareth into a rabbi, from a private to a public figure. The gospels tell us almost nothing of his early life, and then after his baptism and retreat into the wilderness he explodes into action.

In Matthew 4: 17 he takes up John the Baptist's cry: "Repent for the kingdom of heaven is near." That word again. Repent. Turn about. Change. Transform. Reconfigure yourself for life in the kingdom.

Unlike Optimus Prime, I fear I cannot transform in a few seconds. For me it is a gradual sometimes painful process. Bits of me turning more towards God, bits turning away. Paul's take on the subject in Romans is at least encouraging. Be transformed. Not transform yourself. Transformation is something which happens to us rather than something we do. At least - I hope so…

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.

Setting out

Most journeys are easier with a roadmap. Especially trips to unknown destinations. The roadmap to the kingdom is an old one. The pages are partially obscured by centuries of comments from other travellers. Some are helpful, many less so. And this is no conventional map. We see tantalizing glimpses of the destination and hints as to the route, but the junction by junction directions are strangely absent. Perhaps this is because it is a personal journey. Everyone's route is different. Like a mountain with no paths, we must all pick our own way to the summit. For all the uncertainty, however, we must be assured that there is a summit and it - like the starting point - is the same for all.

In John's gospel we see the question of an early traveller:

Thomas said to him, "Lord, we don't know where you are going, so how can we know the way?"

Jesus answered, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me..."

I have a lot of sympathy for Thomas. There is a tendency to look down on him - one of the lesser disciples. He is forever tarred as a doubter. But Thomas has two things going for him which place him ahead of many. He wants to go where Jesus is going, and he's not afraid to admit his ignorance. Over the years I have come to realise that so much of what I have been taught with so much confidence, comes from people who aren't certain, but are afraid to say so. In my journey I hope to find some answers. I hope also to admit when I don't find any. After all if it had not been for Thomas' question, we might have missed one of the deepest statements in the bible.

In an expedition to find the kingdom the only place to start is with the person of Jesus. He is more than a map, he is a guide. We find his thoughts on the kingdom scattered through the gospels. By my count there are 139 references to the kingdom of God in the New Testament of which 105 come in the gospels (and 49 of these are in Matthew). So it is with the Gospels that I will begin...