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?

New beginnings

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it
John 1: 1-5 (NIV)

Twelve years is a long time. A lot of water has passed under the bridge since my last post. In many ways my life is completely different to the way it was when I started this blog. My Mum, afer many years of Alzheimer's passed away in 2017. I miss her but I said my goodbyes a long while before that.

In other ways life is much the same; I still find myself seeking the Kingdom. It still seems as slippery as ever. Sometimes absolutely, visibly breaking out around me. Other times tantalizingly just out of reach.

When I started this blog in 2007 I was planning to look at all of the references to Kingdom in the gospels. It was a task I never completed. In restarting the blog I hope that it is a task that I will return to. But there are other priorities as well. A broader look at the life and commands of Christ. As someone seeking for the kingdom it is to the Gospels that I return!

Lost in translation

I've been thinking about communication recently. How I can say something which makes perfect sense, only for it to be utterly misunderstood. After the event it can be completely obvious why. It seems the problem has many roots. Cultural variation on word meanings. Contextual elements that I am aware of that others are not. Preconceived ideas about my opinion or position. A poor choice of words on my part. And so on. It happens with my closest family and friends. If those who know me best do not understand; what chance a stranger?

This problem seems all the more important in matters of faith. Words I intend to comfort or reassure can unsettle or disturb. Words I read in Bible translations have changed in meaning since the time of the translator. W H Vanstone reveals in The Statue of Waiting the word used of Judas almost exclusively in all the gospel accounts should be rendered "handed over" not "betrayed".  A subtle change - but a profound shift in emotional energy in the accounts of Jesus' last days.

When all we have of our saviour's message are translations of words written 2000 years ago in a language he himself wasn't speaking, how can we be assured that we truly grasp his meaning? Perhaps not at all. NT Wright's assessment of Paul sees him at the pinnacle of first century theology, in a sudden realisation that the Old Testament was fulfilled in the person of Jesus, but not at all in the way his theology would have predicted.

In such a context, I have no choice but to find ways of letting the Bible surprise me. Keeping my mind open to reinterpreting the message of the kingdom as my understanding of the context broadens, or my appreciation of the character of God grows.

Contentment

"I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength" Philippians 4: 12-13 (NIV)

A few weeks back I was privileged to hear Lord Carey speak on this passage. On the Christian calling to be content. It is not a promise that we will perpetually be blessed so that there is nothing that could make us discontent, but rather that we will be provided the strength to remain content in whatever circumstance we find ourselves.

As I reflected on this I realised with surprise that was becoming my experience. I have visited my mother many times since the onset of her Alzheimer's. Whilst I still struggle often with what has happened to her I look forward to these visits. More than that. I enjoy these visits. Spending time with her is tinged with sadness, yes, at all she has lost. But it is still a joy.

In thinking this I wonder how many other joys I miss out on because I am not able to persevere through pain to that place of contentment.

The big silence

This inner peace of mind occurs on three levels of understanding. Physical quietness seems the easiest to achieve, although there are levels and levels of this too....Mental quietness, in which one has no wandering thoughts at all, seems more difficult, but can be achieved. But value quietness, in which one has no wandering desires at all but simply performs the acts of his life without desire, that seems the hardest."
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance(Robert Pirsig)

I'm currently fascinated by The Big Silence - BBC2's antidote to reality TV, as five ordinary people take on the challenge of an eight-day silent retreat. The starting point of their faith seems to make almost no difference to the outcome of their experience, with the self-confessed lady of 'no faith' finding the experience as deeply spiritual and enriching as the Christian who's aim was to deepen her faith.

It seems if we can convince ourselves to slow down, any one of us can encounter the living God. So why is it, when I know this that I continually allow the world to spin me up to it restless pace? Thank you once again, Christoper Jamison for making me not just stop and think, but simply stop.

Faith versus failure

"Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death." Romans 8:1-2 (NIV)

Failure is something that happens to all of us. We fall short of our own goals and expectations, let alone God's. The danger is that failure leads to self-condemnation. We descend into the spiral of "How can God possibly love me?". In the last week I have failed rather a lot. It left me questioning if I am still worthy of my calling. Yet Paul says that there is no condemnation. True he also says "What then shall we say? Shall we go on sinning that grace may abound? By no means!". So the lack of condemnation is not a license to fail. But it is an encouragement to repent, to get up and get on in the knowledge of God's acceptance.

Today I was very struck by God's words to Gideon. "Go in the strength you have". God knows our weakness. He knows our predilection for failure. But he still wants to work with and through us.

The echoes of silence

"Breathe through the heats of our desire
Thy coolness and Thy balm;
Let sense be dumb, let flesh retire;
Speak through the earthquake, wind, and fire,
O still, small voice of calm!"
Dear Lord and Father of Mankind (John G. Whit­ti­er)

Recently I have been thinking a lot about Sabbath and about rest. I am slowly coming to a realisation that I am approaching it the wrong way. Or rather that I am expecting the wrong thing. I find myself going into a period of retreat by offering it to God and asking him to meet me in it. I usually enjoy the time immensely but emerge the other end feeling faintly disappointed that God has not met me. It is as if I expect some blinding new revelation or a magical transformation of my circumstances. When this does not materialise I feel as if God failed to show up - or perhaps I failed to notice him.

What I do find, however, is that in subsequent days I am more aware of God's presence. Of his grace in my daily life. Of empowering and equipping to do the things I need to do. I have always faintly objected to the last line of the hymn 'Dear Lord and Father', because in Elijah's case it was not until the earthquake, wind and fire had abated that God spoke. In the stillness after. But perhaps the hymn writer is right after all. Because it was in the power of the silent voice that Elijah went on to do the difficult things God asked of him. As if in some way the silence was woven into the fabric of his soul, so he could carry it with him into the turmoil of daily living.