Who is Really in Your Church?
What took place at Rephidim several thousands of years ago, is important for several reasons.  While the Children of Israel were journeying through the wilderness they were attacked by the Amalekites.  You can read the account in Exodus 17: 8- 16.  This incident has inspired artists and preachers over the years.  It was a formative experience for an emerging new leader of the Israelites.  It has been used as an illustration of the importance of intercessory prayer.  The occasion gave rise to a fresh understanding of God and one of the compound names of Jehovah.

I believe that there is another important lesson in this incident which is easily overlooked. It gives a powerful message to Christian churches today.  But you will not find it within the record in Exodus 17.  Instead you need to read Deuteronomy 25: 17,18.

Remember what the Amalekites did to you along the way when you came out of Egypt. When you were weary and worn out, they met you on your journey and attacked all who were lagging behind; they had no fear of God. 

Who were the ones that were lagging behind?  It is most likely those who had difficulty keeping up.  This would be likely to include the more elderly and those with young children.  How many parents walking with young children have been frustrated by their offsprings’ slow pace and ease of distraction!  Apparently, all were weary from walking. I can image that the line of people gradually became increasingly drawn out.  The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations has, “Every man for himself and the Devil take the hindmost" as a 16^th century proverb.  Tragically, it describes the attitude of many today.  But what is the application from Rephidim for our churches today?

Last Sunday, on arriving at church, I found myself musing on the description of the early church as recorded in Acts 2:44 “All the believers were together and had everything in common.”  It was the image of a church that was inclusive and caring that I pondered, aware that you can find yourself excluded if you are too young or too old.  Imagine my surprise when my colleague leading the service took as the basis for his talk, Ezekiel 34: 17-19 “Is it not enough for you to feed on the good pasture? Must you also trample the rest of your pasture with your feet? Is it not enough for you to drink clear water? Must you also muddy the rest with your feet? Must my flock feed on what you have trampled and drink what you have muddied with your feet?”  The thrust of his message was how self-interest and selfishness spoil things for others and breaks down community.

The “Church in the Wilderness” was under attack by the Amalekites who were picking off the most vulnerable.  Something needed to be done.  Whatever is read into this account in Exodus 17 regarding Joshua leading the response, or what went on up the mountain, if we fail to recognise that God cares about the most vulnerable and that the whole people of God are not whole without them, we would have missed the point.  If our churches are weak about their approach to the needs of the young and the old (as well as those who care for them), or others marginalised, then we have missed the point of what it means to be church.

One of the benefits of congregationally ordered churches is their ability to adapt, free from denominational legislation.  While I was the pastor at Herstmonceux, we abandoned a traditional approach to church membership and opened the sense of belonging to anyone competent to sign a covenant of fellowship.  Immediately, many who had hesitated about becoming ‘members’ became happy to sign up, identifying themselves as ‘part of the church’.  But this included several younger members of our congregation, whose faith in Jesus Christ had already been recognised.

As one who holds a memorialist understanding of Communion (or Eucharist, or the Lord’s table), I also saw no reason why any believer should be excluded from partaking of the elements simply on the basis of age.  At first, I would state that any children who were believers were welcome to partake subject to the approval of their parents.  That ended when a Christian father asked me by what right I had to made him an arbiter or judge regarding the sincerity of faith of his sons!  While I realise that some reading this come from Christian traditions that have a ‘higher’ sacramental view, and I have no desire to offend, I have concluded that we are inappropriately precious about who may and who may not eat and drink.

What is memorialised was inaugurated at a meal that included a poor group of disciples including one who would betray him, another who would deny him, and many who would abandon and doubt him.  Writing on this subject to the church at Corinth on this subject,the apostle Paul takes them to task about their failing to be inclusive of the weaker members of the church.  He also stated that it is for each person to judge themselves before eating and drinking.  No reference here to any external restrictions.

After a few weeks, we became bold enough to invite some of the children to serve the bread and grape juice to the adults.  That was a profound moment.  What was it that Jesus said about allowing children to come to him, and the kingdom belonging to them? (Luke 18:16,17)

So, who is in and who is out when it comes to fellowship in your church?  Church is based on the concept of fellowship or community.  That only truly exists if everyone is valued, understood and included.  The lesson that Israel needed to learn, and especially Joshua, was not that the victory belonged to Joshua and the army, but to the Lord of Hosts, for whom the weak and the vulnerable are precious and whom he will defend.

We would all do well to examine our attitudes to the weaker or marginalised within our church, and to the structures that affect them.  It is all too easy to neglect, as the early church found regarding some of the widows that were part of the church at Jerusalem.  We need to consciously and deliberately address this issue if we are to be a model of community to the world around.
Barry Osborne – 21^st April 2018

Who I AM

Microsoft has just taken me through a process to update the password that both opens my laptop and opens my Microsoft account including Windows 10.  It was a painstaking process of entering characters and codes sent by email and text.  This was particularly annoying as I have only this week sent password information to my executors and the Chair of trustees of Rural Mission Solutions.  I did this because a brother-in-law died without informing anyone of his password and nobody can get into his laptop!

I suspect that I probably have some twenty or so passwords on my computer covering various personal and work, to which can be added various pin numbers that relate to credit cards and entry systems. Some important applications require my fingerprints or facial recognition.  All of this is to prove that I really am who I say I am.

A further dimension to my identity is who I am to various people.  One person knows me as her husband.  Another knows me as his foster father.  Some know me as a brother or uncle.  Still others know me as a pastor, or a preacher, or an author or lecturer.  Some only know me as a customer.  Everyone knows something about me, but each only knows me in part.  No one on earth, not even my wife, knows the complete me.

Over the recent Easter period, my ministry has focused on the identity of Jesus Christ.  Since we were not around at the time he walked the earth, we rely on the testimony of the four gospel writers to explain to us exactly who Jesus of Nazareth is.  We know that two of these, Matthew and John, spent three years travelling with Jesus so had first-hand knowledge.  Mark probably had some direct contact with Jesus, but his mother was a close follower of Jesus, and it is understood that he also gained much information from Peter.  This leaves Luke, a doctor, who tells us that he made diligent enquiries to ensure he got the facts right.  These four witnesses combine to provide testimony as to who exactly Jesus is.  They do so in company with other witnesses so that we can be confident that Jesus was a real person, living at a real time, and in a real location.

Each presents us with a paradox.  We see someone who is clearly human.  But we also see someone who, in personality and performance is clearly something other.  The fact that he is unique makes his identity something we cannot really get our heads around.  To many who lived in the area where he had grown up he was “the carpenter’s son”, leaving them baffled by the extent of his wisdom and knowledge. In the gospel accounts, time and again his actions leave people asking, “Who is this man?”

As one of my readers you will be able to glean something about who I am.  Some reading this, are related to me and know me in a different context, so will have a different view.  Still others have sat under my teaching or experienced pastoral care, so will have those experiences from which they can build a picture.  But if you really wanted to know me you would need to move in and follow me around for a few years.  Two of the gospel writers did just that with Jesus and share their testimony with us.  The other two writers pass on the testimony of others, but even this is supported from their own experiences.

Matthew is clearly concerned to present Jesus as the promised Messiah, and probably wrote with a Jewish readership in mind.  Mark seems to want to present Jesus as a person of extraordinary action. From the start of his account, Luke seems keen to set his story in a specific time, and presents Jesus as Saviour, and gives us insights into Jesus’ interaction with people, and his compassion.  John, who had the greatest direct contact with Jesus, introduces Jesus from start to finish in a different way.  He boldly starts by presenting Jesus as divine, the creator of the world and the source of life.

It is impossible to read these four accounts, I suggest, without seeing them as honest accounts.  The fact that at the time of their writing, many who had personal contact with Jesus were still alive, and that thousands of people were discovering that they could come to know Jesus through believing, with most becoming willing to risk all for his sake, and even to die rather than deny him, all adds credence to their testimony.

But none of the four hides from the fact that understanding who Jesus is was a challenge.  Matthew, Mark and Luke record a journey Jesus and his disciple took to Caesarea Philippi.  This was an area distinguished by idolatry.  Here Jesus asks his disciples how people were identifying him.  He asks, “Who do they say I am?”.  He then asks them, “Who do you say I am?” Peter answers, declaring him to be the Messiah, the Son of the Living God. (See Matthew 16:13-20)   It is from this time that Jesus confirms his identity to his disciples and begins to explain about his forthcoming suffering and resurrection.

But the gospel writers reveal that his disciples still struggle to understand.  Peter tries to instruct Jesus on what he can do!  James and John, failing at that time to grasp the fact that the Son of God had humbled himself and become a servant, implore Jesus to give them special status in the kingdom.  Even after his resurrection from the dead, the reality that Jesus walked out of his grave seems hard to grasp.  He had to show them the physical wounds suffered on the cross, to converse with them and even to eat with them to demonstrate that he was really the same person they had followed for three years.

It is John, wo starts his gospel by presenting Jesus as divine, who includes the account of Thomas’ struggle to believe.  He had not been there when the other disciples had seen the risen Jesus, examined his body, and satisfied themselves that it was indeed the same Jesus.  I imagine that Thomas must have come up with possible explanations.  Had they hallucinated?  Was it mere wishful thinking?  Was it a ghost?  It is only when he meets the risen Jesus for himself and discovers that Jesus knew the evidence he sought, that he identifies Jesus as both “Lord and God”.

For me, this suggests that it is almost always our subjective engagement with Jesus that precedes our ability to identify who he is.  If we try to believe intellectually and objectively, we are only likely to become confused.  But when we come to him, and seek to know him, only then do we begin to identify who he really is.  We will also find, like the apostle Paul, years after coming to know him we are still wanting to know him more and better.

The four witnesses present the Jesus they came to know.  Each does so in the light of that personal knowledge.  For two thousand years Christian men and women have also been proclaiming the Jesus they have come to know.  It is down to us to share our testimony, to be his witnesses, not by reciting objective facts (though these may be useful), but by declaring our personal subjective experiences of encounter with the one who lived, died, rose again and lives today. We need to speak about the Jesus we know rather than the Jesus we know about.  Believing is not about intellectual acceptance of facts, it is about contemporary and continuing experience.  Only then can we accurately identify Jesus as Saviour, Friend and Lord.
Barry Osborne – 13^th April 2018

Totally Unexpected

A few years ago someone gave my wife a potted primula.  It adorned a window cill for a while, then I planted it in the garden behind our house, hoping it might survive.

That winter, much to our surprise it suddenly burst into flower right through a deep layer of snow.  It continued to flower for a whole year and through another cold winter. The flowers disappeared late last year but as soon as the garden was covered with several inches of snow this winter, up it came in all its glory again.  Up it comes before the crocuses and other Spring plants. Its vibrant life is totally unexpected, but gives great joy.

A deep gloom had settled on the eleven surviving men.  Their leader had been a victim of an extremely painful form of capital punishment.  Not that he had done anything wrong. They were trumped up charges and it was a mockery of a trial.  Added to that one of their number had hanged himself. They had mixed feelings about that. After all he was the one who had betrayed the Master.  But now the adventure was over.

Among them, Peter seemed to be the most depressed as he sat with his head in his hands.  It had started out so well for him. Sure, he had often put his foot in his mouth, and his impetuosity had got him into difficulties.  But he had sworn undying faithfulness, only to throw away three years by three times denying that he even knew the Master. And he could not free himself from that memory of the look Jesus had given him as he emerged from the High Priest’s house. What was it?  Disappointment? No, it was something else: understanding? However you describe it, that look was enough to reduce a grown man to floods of bitter tears. He was a failure.

Only John made himself busy taking care of their Master’s bereaved mother, comforting her as best he could.  The rest sat in huddled silence, overwhelmed by the sudden dreadfulness that marked the end of their mission.

Suddenly the door burst open as some of the women came in shouting excitedly about a stone rolled away and an empty tomb, and talk of angels.  Their words broke through the pained silence like a sword. Peter leapt to his feet and rushed to the door. He had to see this for himself. How could things have gone from bad to worse.  He hurried as fast as could towards the place where the man who had changed his life had been hurriedly buried in a borrowed tomb. His friend had abandoned Mary, and now ran past Peter, reaching the tomb first.  Sure enough, the great stone was rolled to one side and he could see the body had gone. He fell to the ground in grief.

But Peter needed more and went inside.  For a few moments he stood alone in that empty space until he was joined by John.  What was really strange was that the strips of cloth that had wrapped his body and that which had been wrapped around his head were still lying separately there. Peter had no idea what to make of it.  Everything was so confusing.

But the confusion evaporated that evening. Peter and John had joined the others in the guest chamber of the house.  They had carefully locked the door. It would not surprise them if the religious leaders and soldiers came to arrest them.  And that was when it happened! Quite how they would never be able to explain, but he was there.  Right there, in the room despite the locked door.  It was really him, standing there and speaking words of peace, and showing them the wounds in his hands and his side. It was really him! Totally unexpected!  What was more, apparently the mission was to go on.

Something like that was hard to get your head around.  Peter had seen something like it three times before. There was that time in the house of Jairus when Jesus had brought his daughter back to life.  Before then, he had stopped a funeral procession outside Nain, grabbing hold of the bier and commanding the young man to get up. What a shock that was to the crowd as he sat up and started talking.  Then the most amazing time was at Bethany where his friend Lazarus had died four days before, and he came out of the tomb still wrapped in burial cloth when Jesus called him. But who walks out of his own tomb?

Maybe it was all too confusing.  Maybe it was his own uncertainty about his relationship to the man he had so vehemently denied.  He was like a broken chair that no one would ever comfortably trust again. Whatever the cause, Peter seemed to think that the answer was to go back to fishing.  So it was that he and some of the others spent a fruitless night on the lake. As the skies were just beginning to lighten they saw a man on the shore who called out to them and offered some advice.  As day breaks, fish that had been near the surface, swim deeper making catching them harder. But Peter had once before taken advice and had caught so many fish on that occasion that the boat nearly sank.  This time, again the advice was good and the nets were full. It was totally unexpected.

They had not recognised him at first, but John declared, “It is the Lord”.  As they neared the shore, Peter, impetuous as ever, jumped overboard and led the way up the beach.  They ate their breakfast in an awkward silence. Then Peter and Jesus had walked together along the shore.  It was not an easy conversation. Twice Jesus asked Peter if he really did deeply love him. Peter could only respond expressing a lesser kind of love.  The third time the question came, Jesus used the same expression Peter had been using. It had been bad enough to have sat round that fire, so similar to the one he had sat around that night he had denied the one he had professed to love to death.  Now it seemed that even the lesser expression of love Peter claimed he had, was being questioned.

That he deserved, but what he did not expect or deserve were the words Jesus also spoke recommissioning Peter.  If Peter’s faith had been found wanting, it seemed that Jesus still had faith in him. That was totally unexpected.

As someone who has tried to follow Jesus, and who has let the Lord down on occasions, I take comfort in reading of their relationship. The love of Jesus for me was expressed on Calvary. His patience with me is experienced day after day.  He is the great constant in a changing world and an inadequate discipleship.

On Easter Sunday 55 years ago I declared my faith in Jesus Christ before a packed church and stepped into the baptismal pool.  A burst pipe in the road nearby a few days before had resulted in a thin layer of clay on the tiled floor, and I skidded into the waiting arms of the man who had tricked me into giving a talk at a youth group in which I confessed openly for the first time that Jesus Christ was my Saviour.  

24 hours before that Easter Sunday Baptismal Service I had discovered that Jesus had endured the cross because he loved me, and there was no other good enough to pay the price of sin.

I went under the water for a brief moment, and rose to a new future.  It was not what I had planned. That had been yielded up on Hastings Pier the day before.  This was to be the future God had planned. It has sometimes been difficult, sometimes even painful, but I would not swap it for anything, for there is nothing better.  It has been a fantastic 55 years and totally unexpected! What is even more wonderful is that one day I will see Jesus face to face. Whatever awaits me after this earthly life is over is certainly beyond anything I could ever expect.

© Barry Osborne 2018

The woman who worked with strippers

Her name was Sylvia and I met her on Hastings Pier.  It was Easter Saturday in 1963 and I was 17 at that time.  Once a month a group of Christian people took over the restaurant area.  Tables were cleared away and seating was laid out in theatre style. Each month a special speaker was invited and the event advertised.

It had been announced at our church youth group:  “Sylvia Smith will be talking about her work in Soho among prostitutes and strippers”.  Unsurprisingly, the topic sounded attractive to an adolescent male.  Several of us from the youth group turned up. I had been shopping at Freeman Hardy and Willis shortly before meeting up with my friends at a local coffee bar and still had my new plimsolls with me.  In those days, coffee bars were where teenager hung out.

We made our way across to the pier.  The room was already full but we found some space near the back.  Sylvia was a young and attractive woman with a voice that was pleasant to listen to.  These days I cannot remember a thing she said about her work as an evangelist in Soho, but I remember it sounded pretty exciting.  What I do remember is that she slipped seamlessly from talking about her work into a talk about the betrayal, arrest, trial and crucifixion of Jesus.  I had never heard a talk like it.

Sure, I knew the story pretty well.  In the fifties almost every kid in the UK was taken to a church Sunday School and I was typical.  However, as soon as I hit my teens I managed to break free by joining Sea Cadets. I hadn’t given up on God exactly; just abandoned church for something more interesting.  After all, my church seemed to have been run by a group of dusty old men, some of whom, in my opinion, were not that Christian. Church - the grown up version - contrasted to the more engaging Sunday School.  But I was free of it; free from moral constraints. Over the next four years my lifestyle became increasingly profligate, carefully hidden from my parents.

An incident at a drunken party followed by a trip to A&E at a local hospital provided a wake-up call.  But my best efforts at reforming my life were ineffective. Then a man I didn't know and who didn’t know me passed on a gospel leaflet to me in the street near my home and then went away and prayed every day for me.  That leaflet could have been written specifically for me at that time. It contained just one scripture reference: Jesus saying that whoever came to him he would never turn away. Reading it in my bedroom some time later, I said a short prayer asking if I could be accepted.

In the months that followed, my attitude began to change.  I joined a youth group at the church I had abandoned. There I made friends and fell in love (well, I thought I had) with Rosemary.  After I had attended for a few weeks, the church Minister announced that the following week I would be speaking on my favourite Psalm.  There had been no consultation about that, but sitting next to Rosemary (whose dad was also a Minister), I didn’t want to lose face. With the help of an inherited Study Bible, the following week I spoke on Psalm 23 referencing the imagery of sheep that had strayed and a shepherd who gave his life for the sheep.  It was sincere and wasn’t a bad talk. Unfortunately, Rosemary was not there to be impressed.

Afterwards, when I went to ride home, my bicycle seemed rooted to the spot.  I discovered the Minister had hold on the back of the saddle. “Now I know where you stand, when can I baptise you?” he asked.  Unable to come up with a decent excuse, I found myself enrolled in a series of pre-baptism session alongside Rosemary’s two brothers.  But, frankly, my faith was very weak so when it came to a final interview to see if I was a fit person to be baptised and admitted to church membership, one of the deacons, Rosemary’s dad, declared me unfit.  Fortunately the other interviewing deacon said that God had told him that I should be received even though my faith was weak.

Baptism in my church was by total immersion and the newly plimsolls I was carrying that evening on Hastings Pier had been purchased for the occasion which was due to take place the following day.  My baptism was meant to be a sign and declaration of faith, but it was a faith with many holes and somewhat uncertain. But as Sylvia moved into her Easter message things were about to change once more.

One by one, she focused on each person significant in the story.  We considered Judas who professed to be a disciple, but who for personal reasons betrayed Jesus with a kiss.  We considered Peter who had professed undying loyalty but under pressure denied even knowing Jesus. We considered Herod whose only interest in Jesu seemed to be to satisfy a personal whim.  We considered Pilate who, rather than do what he knew to be right, washed his hands of responsibility. We considered the soldiers who had carried out the death sentence, nailing an innocent man to a cruel cross.  After each description, Sylvia quoted the words that Jesus had prayed, “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do”.

Two things hit me during that talk.  The first was how much my life showed similar weaknesses to each of the characters sending Jesus to the cross.  The second was the amazing love that Jesus demonstrated. Before that meeting if you had asked me why did Jesus die on a cross, my baptismal classes would have ensured that I could explain that he died for the sin of the world.  After the meeting, asked the same question I would answer, “because he loved me, undeserving as I was”.

The talk ended and a hymn was announced.  It was a hymn I knew so well I could recite the words of each verse.  As people began to sing I found myself struggling as I contemplated the final verse. It was Isaac Watts’ famous hymn, When I survey the wondrous cross on which the Prince of Glory died…  It took on a fresh and personal meaning in the light of all I had heard that evening.  As we sang “See from his head, his hands, his feet, sorrow and love flow mingled down.  Did e’er such love and sorrow meet or thorns compose so rich a crown?” it was almost as if I was there watching this man die and hearing those amazing words of loving forgiveness.

But I knew the words of the final verse, and knew my weakness was such that I dared not sing them.  I could not sing them unless God enabled me to really mean what I was coming. As that verse began, I found myself singing with an absolute sincerity.  “Love so amazing, so divine demands my soul, my life,my all”  I had felt the love of God that evening and knew that I had to surrender all I was and all my hopes and ambitions at the pierced feet of the man who surrendered everything for me.

Clutching the plimsolls firmly in my hand I walked home with a new eagerness as I looked forward to the next day; Easter Sunday and my baptism.  What it would be symbolising was now burning in my heart.

© Barry Osborne 2018

A Strange Souvenir

It was a strange souvenir for anyone to want. No doubt we have all held onto a souvenir at some time. It might have been a programme from a concert, something we brought back from a holiday, or possibly a child's favourite toy or an item to remind us of a person we have loved. But certainly, this was a strange souvenir the men wanted from that day of days.

The problem was that there were several of them but only the one item. It was a linen garment with one previous owner, a seamless robe. On one hand too good to tear up so that they could all have a piece. On the other hand it was pretty badly stained with blood. So the solution was to gamble for it. One of them produced a pair of dice and each took a turn threw them. The highest score would be the winner. A mixture of cheers and groans marked the outcome of each throw. Each man eager for the prize.

The owner of that robe watched them gambling for what had been his. Not long before the same men had stretched out his body and driven nails through his flesh to hold him tight to the wood. Then they had raised him vertically while they waited for him to die.

To the pain of the nails and the beating he had previously received, there was now added the discomfort of struggling for breath. He had not said much through the trial or when they ridiculed him. But now, in order to expand his lungs and gain enough breath to speak, he had to pull himself up by those nails through his hands and push himself up from the nails through his feet.

A lesser man might have used his elevated position to spit on his tormentors. He had been spat upon by many in the mocking crowd surrounding him. But this man somehow found the strength to draw a breath and pray for these men who had hammered nails through his flesh and now gambled for that blood stained robe. Not a curse, but a prayer,

The winner grasped his prize and held it aloft. The back showed bloody stripes where he had been whipped until his flayed back looked like a ploughed field. It would need a good wash before it could be worn again. Crucifixion was a dirty business and it would take more than a good wash to make him feel clean again. It was a strange souvenir, but it would always bring back to his mind the words of that prayer. “Father forgive them, they do not understand what they are doing”.

(c)Barry Osborne 2018

Lobsters Teach a Lesson to Churches

Lobsters Teach a Lesson to Churches

From our earliest moments, we come into this world needing comfort.  From the moment of that first cuddle, we progress through life with its struggles and occasional pain, welcoming moments when a loving action or kind words bring comfort.

People of a certain age will remember the early afternoon radio programme, ‘Listen with Mother’.  Partway through the programme, it was usually Daphne Oxenford, who would read a story.  This would be preceded with the question, “Are you sitting comfortably?”  I recall those halcyon days with nostalgic pleasure.  I also remember, once as a young child and having been distressed by a bad dream, I was taken onto my father’s and into his arms as he prayed with me.  Panic was replaced with peace.

I wonder what the word, ‘comfort’ brings to mind for you.  Possibly, a favourite armchair or a warm bed.  In my second pastorate, someone gave our church a settee and armchairs.  We put them at the back of our worship area, and they became popular to a Christian farmer, who had already worked long hours before the morning service, and who often slipped in a little late (but as soon as he could) and collapsed into their comfort.  Those comfortable items of furniture had a ministry of their own!  What is the virtue of hard pews?

There is an interesting verse in the Acts of the Apostles which gives a picture of peace and comfort after a turbulent period of persecution.  It comes not long after the conversion of Saul.  In the NIV it reads, “Then the church throughout Judea, Galilee and Samaria enjoyed a time of peace and was strengthened. Living in the fear of the Lord and encouraged by the Holy Spirit, it increased in numbers.” (Acts 9:31).  In the Authorised Version of the Bible, where I first came across this passage, the words. “encouraged by the Holy Spirit” are rendered, “the comfort of the Holy Ghost”.  The Greek word paraklesis can be translated in many ways, but the ministry of the Holy Spirit is not to wrap us in cotton wool and gently rock us to sleep.

Which brings me back to lobsters!  Once killed, lobsters rapidly decay.  For this reason, they should be cooked and eaten soon after being killed.  Now banned in many countries, lobsters are sometimes boiled alive.  I think it should be banned everywhere.  It has been said that if the lobsters are chilled and then go into cold water slowly warmed, they relax and fall asleep before the water becomes hot enough to kill them.  While this might be true, even writing it makes me feel very uncomfortable.  Death by comfort!

My point is, are some of our churches so comfortable that we fail to realise that we are actually dying?  We like the hymns or the new songs, we enjoy the sermons (though few seem to bring about much change), and we enjoy being with our friends who share our beliefs.  Is it all too nice?  I remember first hearing a fellow preacher say that while he delights in hearing an occasional “Amen” of “Hallelujah” as a response when preaching, he would sometimes prefer to hear someone say “Ouch!”.

How can we tell if we are being lulled into a sleep that will lead to death?  We could ask, when was the last time that the sermon made me feel uncomfortable because it made me realise shortcomings?  We could ask, when was someone last converted in my church?  We could ask, how are we being motivated to engage with God’s mission?  We could ask, are there visible signs that we are growing in faith and discipleship?  We could ask, is church just too comfortable, leaving us complacent?

If your church is too comfortable, then what can be done about it?  I suggest you start times of prayer for revival.  Make sure that those who preach know that you appreciate being challenged and stirred – at least some of the time.  Pray that God’s word to your church will be heard and acted on.  Pray for the preacher and the affect of the message while he or she proclaims it.  Encourage a time of reflection on the message, and perhaps an exhortation to action, before you move into the closing hymn and go home to lunch.

Editors of news programmes use something called, ‘the dead donkey’.  It is a final benign and possibly silly story to end the news programme, so we are not distressed by the bad news.  Final hymns and coffee can do much the same but could in fact provide the space to determine the change and/or action as the alternative to the shot of weekly soporific comfort.

Is it time to bring back the “Ouch”?  If my words have disturbed you, please do not let them fail to bring about change.  Generally speaking, a real revival is long overdue, but it could start in your church – or maybe mine!

Barry Osborne -19^th March 2018

SPLLING THE BLESSING

I was recently asked to speak at a Lent Lunch.  The text on which I was asked to speak is Romans 15:13. “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”  As I pondered on the text and started to plan the outline for the talk, I was surprised that I had not thought deeply about is previously.

The outline was easy, and the talk went well.  I began by speaking about the nature of Christian hope.  I explained that this is not about wishful thinking, or the kind of optimism Mr Micawber exercised (“Something will turn up”).  It is about something not yet experienced but about which we can be confident.  I suggested that since hope is more commonly used for wishful thinking or uncertainty, we could do with a better English word to express what it means for Christians.  For me it is about eager anticipation.

The second point that the text suggested to me is, ‘the source of our hope’.  Paul prays that the God of hope would fill them with peace and joy and cause their hope to overflow.  It seems to me that he is stating that our hope as Christians comes from God.  But is God the source of our hope, or the object of our hope.  The writer of the Letter to the Hebrews in the New Testament, keen to encourage confidence talks about “two immutable (unchangeable) things” (Hebrews 6:18).  As Christians, our hope is based on the promises God has made to us.  His promises will never fail, and he supports this with his own unchanging nature.

Some people worry that their faith is not strong enough.  But the real issue is not the strength of our faith but where we place our faith.  If you are trying to skate on ice that is paper thin, you can believe as hard as you like but you will still get wet!  You would do far better to tentatively trust yourself to ice that is many inches thick.

Trusting promises is not something new to most of us.  We often visit shops where we exchange a small piece of paper for a basket load of shopping.  Of course, it would be ridiculous if we thought a piece of paper was of equal value to a basket of shopping.  It is not the value of the paper, or even the quality of the printing that that gives it value.  It is the words “I promise to pay the bearer on demand the sum of £20” and the signature of the Governor of the Bank of England.  We put our trust in the person making the promise, backed up by the resources of the Bank of England.

But what particularly grabbed my attention in this verse from Romans 15:13 were the words “fill” and “overflow”. Paul prays that as the Christians in Rome placed their trust in the one who has given us precious promises of eternal life with him in glory, that they would find God filling them with joy and peace. Note that he adds the word “all” to that joy and peace.  No doubt we could all do with a little more joy and peace, but what is on offer is a total or absolute experience of it!  I don’t want to settle for less.

These blessings come from our trusting in God.  In a world that casts dark shadows across our lives from time to time, we can experience joy and peace instead of dread and anxiety, simply by trusting in an unchanging God and his unchanging promises. But note, there is one more thing to experience.

Paul’s prayer, or his aspiration for the Christians in Rome, was that their hope in God would be an overflowing experience.  The hope, peace and joy available from the God of hope, does not come by the glassful, nor even the bottle full, not even on draught.  It comes from everlasting source that is God himself.  The Greek word used here means to have something in abundance – above and beyond.  It means much more than is needed.

So intrigued was I with this concept that I looked to see where else overflowing was mentioned in the epistles in the New International Version of the Bible. Remans 5:15 speaks of grace that overflows. 2Corinthians 4:15 speaks of an experience of grace that cause overflowing thanksgiving.  2Corinthians 8:2 speaks of overflowing joy during severe trials.  There are two other references to overflowing thankfulness. 1Thessalonians 3:12 speaks of our love for one another and everyone else, increasing and overflowing.

I have personal experiences of overflowing.  You may be aware that I have an inherited problem of what is called an essential tremor.  My hands shake: sometimes slightly, sometimes more noticeably.  Under stress, or in cold weather, or having carried anything heavy it is very noticeable.  At such times, if I have a cup of coffee in my hands, it is as well not to stand too close!  I usually ask for cups not to be filled as this will reduce the risk of spillages.

Imagine a church where every Christian was so filled to overflowing with hope and consequential joy and peace, that it was constantly spilled, so that the overflow touched the lives of others around.  Are you filled and overflowing?  Who, then, is feeling the effect of your overflowing by the power of the indwelling Holy Spirit.  God grant that we may be so filled and overflowing that increasing numbers experience the splashes!  Let’s be spilling the blessing and not spoiling the blessing.  Amen?

Barry Osborne - 03 March 2018

From the Diary

Despite the cold, snow and icy weather of the past few days I have been able to get out and bout and share God’s word in schools and various meeting.  We give thanks for the privilege of bring God’s word to others, and for the obvious blessing it has brought.

Please pray for safe travelling and God’s blessing on his precious word over the coming days this week.

We rejoice that someone has shown interest in developing some aspects of our vision for ministry to and with young people.  Please pray for Gordon Banks and me as we meet this Wednesday with Joy to explore this further.

Please pray for the Churches Group for Evangelization meeting in London on Thursday.  Unfortunately, I have had to send my apologies this week because of personal circumstances.  I will miss the fellowship with good friends who share my passion for evangelism, and I pray that it will prove very helpful.  They will bring me up to date afterwards with what God is doing across the churches.