Who’s Telling the Truth?

We are not withholding our affection from you, but you are withholding yours from us. 2 Corinthians 6:12.

Sounds very much like a “he said,” “she said” scenario. Who’s to say who is holding affection from whom? It’s Paul’s word against theirs. From Paul’s letters of strong censure to the Corinthians, they could argue his lack of affection for them. Paul, on the other hand, could argue it is tough love!

But winning an argument is not necessarily evidence of its truth. Deception, bullying, or just rhetorical outmanoeuvring can win an argument. We’ve all probably experienced, or even used, similar techniques. Considering these problems in assessing truth, who can know it? With powerful arguments ranged against our faith, how can we know that’s true?

Unfortunately, there is no final empirical proof of the truth of Christianity or the Bible. For most Christians, there is overwhelming circumstantial evidence for our beliefs, but in the end, our belief in God and the message of the Bible is by faith! Paul wanted the Corinthians to have faith in his love for them, as we claim our faith as truth.

The measure of a valid faith is it’s grounding in the certainty of a future hope. If there’s one constant in life, it is the desire for the happy ending. Tragedy leaves us in despair. From fairy tales and romance novels to the real circumstances of life, the human heart searches for perfect justice and security as the final environment for joy.

The Bible has such impact because it confirms our innermost sense that life does have meaning and direction, fulfilled in the God who created us, and who has prepared a place for us with Himself.  It is that certain hope for our future that confirms our belief in the present.

Hope is the destination; faith is the journey.

Order or Spontaneity

Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise; give thanks to him and praise his name. Psalm 100:4.

Ann is away this week, and I am thankful for a break, and a week to attempt to live an orderly life and get some work done my way. Take sleeping for example. I slip into a well-made bed at night, and slide out carefully in the morning. Smooth out a few wrinkles, and presto! The bed’s made!

Ann, on the other hand, explodes out of bed in the morning, leaving a trail of bedding disaster, together with pillows, socks and heating pads, buried among the rubble. The bed needs a remake from the ground up to ensure some comfort for the next night’s sleep.

So now, as I go about my daily routine, I’m thankful to find everything as and where I left it, furniture still arranged for my schedule, and no cleaning frenzy to dislodge stuff I’m working on. Everything set for an easy, sedate, organised, quiet routine. At last, the comfortable rut I’ve been seeking my whole life!

But. . .

It’s also dull, tedious, monotonous, and boring! The light of life has become a glimmer, and I feel only half alive. I miss the quiet efficiency and hustle that Ann displays for household chores, cleaning, cooking, gardening, shopping, studying and even visiting the needy—a calm competence that seems to belie her natural spontaneity.

I recall several years ago, an unprovoked and unexpected sense of Ann as a stranger in my home. It lasted for about a week. It suddenly seemed out of place for this beautiful, vivacious, outgoing woman to stay with this hermetically inclined procrastinating old hermit. I saw Ann and myself with new eyes.

Ann, I am continually thankful to God for you. You are a gift of God’s grace and love to me, and I love you just the way you are. Hurry home and mess up my life again. I miss you!

How Well Do I Know Myself?

We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all. Isaiah 53:6

Most of us have a problem recognizing our personal iniquity. Oh! We recognize it in others readily enough, and bemoan and berate the social and international violence that pervades our planet. But we consider ourselves living above all that; in fact, seeing others’ sins in which we have no part, gives us an arrogant sense of moral superiority

The hare may vaunt his superior speed to the tortoise, but he is no match for the jet plane that thunders overhead. Our goodness is in the gutter compared with the blinding holiness of God. So much so, that the price of our sin was the horrific death of Jesus on the cross—if I was the only person in the world, His death would have been no less necessary.

It’s sobering to realize that Christ’s death is the measure of our individual sin. The idea of hell is nonsense to those who trivialize their sin. In reality, the misery of hell is really the measure of sin’s vileness, and the ultimate sacrifice that is necessary to pay its debt and overcome it. Have we come close enough to the cross to measure that depth of our own sin?

Remembrance Day

Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. John 15:13.

The Bible League diary, from which I take my daily texts, has chosen an appropriate reading for today. We all have only one life, and to sacrifice it for another is to lose everything. Even posthumous adulation will give us no personal advantage. That’s not to say we shouldn’t remember them and the sacrifice they made for us. It is beyond measure.

What’s more to the point: what we are doing with the freedom we have gained? When life is prosperous and easy, it’s easy to take it for granted and fritter it away. Those who have had a brush with death appreciate the fragility of life and of making every moment count. Certainly, as we grow old and time left decreases, we may regret time wasted needlessly.

I cannot help but ruminate on the sacrifice most westerners seem unwilling to make in order to maintain the life we have inherited. Significant examples—and not the last I’m sure—Greek riots at austerity measures, French demonstrations against raising retirement to 62, and yesterday’s obnoxious student violence in England at raising tuition rates.

These entitlement demands fly in the face of, not only economic reality, but also the service our fallen gave for our current life standards. Without it, make no mistake, we would be subject to Nazi domination, Communist servitude or, even yet, Islamist cruelty. And without some economic sacrifice on our part, the west could easily slip back into the “dirty thirties.”

It comes down to us personally. What sacrifices are we willing to make to maintain even a remnant of our current prosperity? The life we hand to our children and grandchildren may well hinge on what we are willing to sacrifice for their security. That may be our lives for their freedoms, but more likely a reduced lifestyle for their financial well-being.

The pattern is clearly set by “the Son of Man [who] did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” (Matthew 20:28)

Feeling Forsaken?

About the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice, "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?"-which means, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Matthew 27:46.

It’s only too easy to feel forsaken. For the last two days I’ve had grumbling pains in my lower abdomen. Not sure what the problems was, even the hospital doctor had no firm diagnosis. I’m glad the problem seems to be easing itself and I am up to some work again.

But it was a reminder not to come to conclusions or make decisions when I’m not feeling well. The whole world looks blacker, personal goals seem remote, and there’s no doubt God seems further away. I remember feeling like that when Ann and I were pastoring a church that had dwindled to half a dozen people and had built a reputation to match.

After three or four years little seemed to be happening, and I cried to God to get me out of it. He didn’t, and it was eight years before the church built up sufficient numbers to be re-constituted with board and members.

I realized afterwards, that for a while at least, it was not necessarily my job to progress, but to hold the ground. My sense of being “godforsaken” was nothing to that experienced by Jesus on the cross. But in both instances, the sense of loneliness was part of the process in accomplishing God’s purposes.

And in that, we shared in the loneliness God felt when His creation forsook Him.