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?

No worries

"'Mole, I'm afraid they're in trouble. Little Portly is missing again; and you know what a lot his father thinks of him, though he never says much about it.'

'What, that child?' said the Mole lightly. 'Well, suppose he is; why worry about it? He's always straying off and getting lost, and turning up again; he's so adventurous. But no harm ever happens to him. Everybody hereabouts knows him and likes him, just as they do old Otter, and you may be sure some animal or other will come across him and bring him back again all right. Why, we've found him ourselves, miles from home, and quite self- possessed and cheerful!'" The Wind in the Willows (Kenneth Grahame)

According to the popular saying, ninety percent of the things that we worry about never happen. Looking back on my own experience I can see I've wasted time and energy turning things over in my mind; things that have happened and I cannot change, or things I fear may happen and cannot avoid. Yet in retrospect, so little of my worry was justified. Things, generally work out far differently in reality from anticipation.

In the sermon on the mount Jesus instructs us not to worry. "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?". And yet with all that I know of him, all that the past demonstrates, all too often I find my mind slipping back into worry. Sometimes it feels as if worry is not something I have any control over. Even if conciously I do not think about the things that worry me, my body nevertheless exhibits the symptoms of subconcious worry. Yet life is clearly better when we don't worry.

Last weekend I spent time with my godson. At ten months his life is pretty simple. Provided his basic requirements for food, warmth, affection and sleep are met he seems a very happy chap. It made me think again about what it means to "become like a little child". He does not worry about the future, partly because he has no concept of it, and partly because he has loving parents who ensure that he is provided for. I suppose the latter is the most important.

Sometimes it is easy to wish that life were simpler - but perhaps ultimately it is. Because we have a loving heavenly father who promises to provide.

Home is where the heart is

"For the grim years where removed from the face of Aragorn, and he seemed clothed in white, a young lord tall and fair; and he spoke words in the elvish tongue to one whom Frodo could not see. Arwen vanilmelda namarië! he said, and then he drew a breath, and returning out of his thought he looked at Frodo and smiled.

'Here is the heart of elvendom on earth,' he said. 'and here my heart dwells ever, unless there be a light beyond the dark roads that we still must tread, you and I...'" The Lord of the Rings

The tail-end of Matthew six seems very appropriate for an era of 'credit-crunch'.

Do not store treasure on earth where insects and decay destroy or thieves may rob you. Where banks may fail or stocks may lose value in market crashes. Instead store treasure in heaven where these things do not happen. For where your treasure is will be where your heart dwells also. [My paraphrase]

In The Lord of the Rings Aragorn's heart is with the elves - and with one elf in particular. It is their nobility and the hope of what may yet be which spurs him on to achieve the daunting task ahead of him. In completing his quest, coming into the kingship and gaining the hand of Lady Arwen he gains all the other things as well. So it is in scripture.

At the end of Matthew six Jesus concludes his treatise on where our treasure lies with these words. "But seek first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness and all these other things will be added to you as well". This is not prosperity gospel. Jesus is not saying that we will be rich beyond dreams on earth. He himself was not a rich man. His followers did not come in to riches on his departure. But it is a promise of basic provision. Needs will be met. It seems to me, the kingdom of God is about letting go our grasp on the material to gain a greater treasure.

The kingdom of the righteous

"Anyone who breaks one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever practices and teaches these commands will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I tell you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven." Matthew 5: 19-20 (NIV)

It's nearly a year since I last wrote about the kingdom references in the gospels - although I hope that most of my intervening posts have been kingdom-focused too. I left off my search in Matthew 5, looking at the beattitudes. The next reference is perhaps even harder to grapple with.

What exactly is righteousness and how can we surpass the Pharisees? Clearly from the way that Jesus berates them, it has nothing to do with creating long lists of the things that God requires and imposing them on ourselves and others. According to the dictionary to be righteous is to be "morally upright, without guilt or sin". Like most of the Sermon on the Mount this seems like an unattainably high standard. Fortunately Paul's words in Romans bring some comfort here.

"[Abraham] did not waver through unbelief regarding the promise of God, but was strengthened in his faith and gave glory to God, being fully persuaded that God had power to do what he had promised. This is why "it was credited to him as righteousness." The words "it was credited to him" were written not for him alone, but also for us, to whom God will credit righteousness—for us who believe in him who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead.

Romans 4:20-24

Romans does not absolve us of the responsibility to live righteous lives, but it does indicate that there is hope when we inevitably fall short.

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?

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.

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.

The search for self

I've been in a bit of a head-spin this weekend. My thoughts circling like fighting cats. I'm still not quite sure which tail to pull to unravel the mess. I'm not even sure I can adequately frame the issue.

It started with the section on Thomas Merton in Finding Sanctuary by Christoper Jamieson. He writes this:

The real task of being true to oneself is as slow and profound work; it is not a fixed way but involves search and change. And in the end being true to oneself can only be achieved by listening to God. Keeping busy is a way of avoiding being true to oneself. 'In order to become myself I must cease to be what I always thought I wanted to be.'"

The question which this raised in my head runs something like this: is the search for one's true self diametrically opposed to the concept of self-sacrifice and self-denial? Is it not self-indulgent to commit vast amounts of time to that search? In a sense this is purely an intellectual challenge. My instinct says otherwise. In giving my life wholeheartedly to God it seems fitting that I will be released to be all that God intended. God did not create me a certain way just so he could ask me to painfully become something else entirely. So maybe it is just the emphasis of the statement that I find hard to accept.

When I was at university I knew a guy who was very hot on self-sacrifice. He had given up a whole raft of things which he knew to be wrong, in order to be a better Christian. The thing was, he wasn't very happy. To an outsider it was pretty clear that he regretted the sacrifice. He'd placed a whole load of things on the altar, not because he wanted to, but because he thought he had to. As a consequence they weren't really dead, but they followed him around, snapping at his heels.

The Christians who I have most admired have always struck me as very humble, centred people. Their focus is on God. He is the core of iron that runs though their gentle lives. It's never really occurred to me to ask them about self-sacrifice and it is not something that they have talked about. Yet I bet if I did ask I would find that there had been sacrifice there. Silent, under the surface sacrifice; undertaken willingly, not regretted and not returned to.

I know it's jumping forward, but the picture I have in my mind comes from the two-sentence parable in Matthew 9: 44. "The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field." It brings me back to what I wrote a few days ago. Love does not spring from obedience, but rather the other way around. If there is no joy in the sacrifice, then maybe the real treasure is still to be found.

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…

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…

Reject the false kingdom

In The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, by C S Lewis, a young boy named Edmund finds himself in the magical land of Narnia. There he meets a queen who promises to make him a prince and one day king of Narnia. Edmund, understandably is highly tempted by this offer and initially has no qualms in aligning himself with the queen. As the story progresses he finds the queen, who is really a witch, has neither the desire nor the right to make him king. What he does not realise is that, along with his brother and sisters, his claim to the throne is more real than her own.

The devil often offers us things which, if we but knew it, are already ours. Quick assurances or easy pleasures which turn out to not be quite what they seem. In Matthew 4 he tries this with Jesus, taking him to a high place and offering him all the kingdoms of the earth. The price? Bow down and worship me. Jesus rejects the temptation. This is not the kingdom he came to establish, and he will worship none but God.

It seems that there is no easy route to the kingdom. To take one is almost certainly to be deceived. Once gained, however, the benefits of the real kingdom are far better than the pale substitutes the devil can offer. The repentance John talks about means turning my back on the false kingdom. Rejecting the quick fix or the pat answer. It means getting down to business and searching for the kingdom. Investing the time in getting to know the mind of Christ. Sometimes I'm not certain I have that dedication in me - yet somehow I feel compelled to try.

The kingdom is at hand...

The very first reference to the kingdom comes in Matthew 3. Here we find John the Baptist crying out in the desert "Repent for the kingdom of heaven is near". His message carries immediacy. For John the kingdom is not some distant promise - a hope for the far future - but rather it is at hand and his reaction to Jesus shows that he recognises him instantly as the one of whom he has been talking

Later, in Matthew 11 we see John, in prison and plagued with doubt, send messengers to Jesus to ask if he had in fact been right. Jesus characteristically does not answer the question, but points to what is happening around him. If John's proclamation was true, that the kingdom was at hand, then perhaps what Jesus points to tells us a little of what the kingdom is. "The blind see, the lame walk, the sick are healed and the good news is preached to the poor."

If the kingdom was at hand nearly 2,000 years ago then it is here now. The kingdom is not something we are waiting for, but something we are called into. Right here, right now. Yet the kingdom Jesus points to seems very different to my daily experience.