So how are those new year's resolutions coming along then? It's now the end of January, and if you're anything like me, you've probably long since forgotten that you even made any. We're often so full of good intentions, and sometimes we even manage to put a few of them into practice, but eventually we always run into our own limitations - resolutions fizzle out, our energy ebbs away, we discover the limits of our own abilities. We're finite creatures and ultimately, however much we might try and deny it, we're fundamentally needy: we're unable to be all that we want to be and we're dependent upon grace from outside ourselves.
That's why I love one of the big themes of John's gospel: Jesus' fullness. We are empty and needy, but Jesus is the one who is full within himself, and he longs to share that fullness with us. John 1:16 puts it like this: "from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace."
This fullness of Jesus is beautifully illustrated in John chapter 2 at the wedding in Cana. The bridegroom is at risk of being seriously embarrassed: his need and his finiteness is brought to the fore when he runs out of wine, a serious faux pas at a Jewish wedding at that time. Jesus' mum throws him in the deep end and gets him to help out, and so reluctantly he tells the servants to fill six stone water jars with water, which he promptly transforms into wine of outstanding quality - so good that the master of the feast can't help but comment on it. This is no Chateaux Le Plonk. And how much does Jesus make of the stuff? Well, we're told that each of these jars holds between 20 and 30 gallons, and there are six of them. Let's call that 25 gallons each, or about 680 litres. That's 900 bottles of wine!!! And people think of Jesus as a party pooper!
It's an absurd volume of wine, and I think the picture is abundantly clear, isn't it? Life with Jesus is one of overflowing grace. Ludicrous fullness that can hardly be contained. It's a little picture of what heaven will be like - a glorious banquet, a place of abundance where sin and death and sadness and emptiness is no more. Listen to these words from the prophet Isaiah:
"On this mountain the LORD of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wine, of rich food full or marrow, of aged wine well refined. And he will swallow up on this mountain the covering that is cast over all peoples, the veil that is spread over all nations. He will swallow up death for ever" (Isaiah 25:6-8)
Jesus gives out of his fullness: "from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace." And so my emptiness and my neediness and my finite limitations are irrelevant. In fact, recognising them is a positive thing, since they serve to make me all the more ready to receive what Jesus has to offer. It's wonderful news for needy people like me, and that's why Jesus is my hero.
At Euston Church we recently had a provocative Sunday sermon series from 1 Corinthian 7 by Charlie Skrine listening to what God says about marriage and singleness. It's one of those subjects that everybody has an interest in, and also one of those chapters of the Bible that everybody has a different opinion on how to interpret. Yet however ambiguous some aspects of Paul's teaching may be, it's hard not to agree that at the very least Paul sets forth a radically positive view of singleness. In a sex-obsessed culture which pretty much assumes it's a fundamental human right to fall in love and pursue a fulfilling sexual relationship with that person, whoever they might be and whatever your situations, the idea of being content to accept a single lifestyle and refrain from marriage just seems bizarre.
On the back of that sermon series, I decided to read Redeeming Singleness by Barry Danylak. It's a Biblical theology of singleness, tracing the theme through the Bible timeline and showing how the idea is developed over time, and how it's affected by the coming of Christ. It consists of six chapters, each of which I managed to read in a single sitting, making it quite achievable to read the whole book in a week. Starting with the book of Genesis he shows how the promises of the Abrahamic covenant with their emphasis on offspring play out in the rest of the Old Testament. He does a tour of the prophets, then shows how things are changed by Jesus' arrival, and what Jesus himself taught on the subject. He then ends up with a look at 1 Corinthians 7 itself.
I particularly enjoyed his overview of the theme of 'offspring' within Isaiah, and how with the coming of the Suffering Servant there's going to be a fundamental shift in how people become part of God's family: now the children of the barren woman will be more than the children of she who is married (Is 54:1), and to the eunuch who chooses the things that please God will be given a name that is better than sons and daughters (Is 56:5). It's not just that their reproach is taken away, but their situation is in fact better than those who simply have large earthly families.
He also uses the example of Daniel (for whom he presents evidence that he was probably made a eunuch in Babylon) to paint a truly compelling picture of the eunuch as the king's loyal servant - without any chance of a dynasty of his own he poses no threat to the king, and also without children to look after him in his old age he is entirely dependent upon the king's ongoing support and hence his own welfare is wrapped up in the welfare of the king - and so he faithfully serves his king undistracted by family concerns. The only question in Daniel's case is which king is he serving - when the rubber really hits the road it turns out that it's not King Nebuchadnezzar after all but the King of Heaven.
You can tell that the book is written by an academic and at times you have to do a bit of the work yourself in figuring out why the things he's teaching you are so encouraging for daily living as a single person, yet at the same time he writes from personal experience as a single person himself, and you can tell that these are truths that matter to him. All in all it was a very helpful read that has done me a lot of good, and I highly recommend it.
I admit it: I want to be a hero. I love the sense of smug self-satisfaction I get after successfully leaping out of bed before 7am. I love anything that marks me apart from the rest of humanity and helps me feel like I might be special after all.
The trouble is, in lots of ways, I'm pretty mediocre. I'm downright average. In fact, in some departments I'm full on sub-standard - just ask my physiotherapist about my weak knees! One of the things that going to university in Cambridge does to you is that it quickly shatters any illusions you may have had about being exceptionally clever or talented - every day you're bumping into people a hundred times smarter than you, and they almost certainly play the piano like a pro too. God makes each one of us differently with a unique set of gifts, and the simple fact is that some of us get a fuller measure than others. We may be equal in dignity, but that doesn't mean we all stand the same chance of being hired by NASA to help send a rocket ship to Mars.
One of my common responses to my own limitations is to seek to live vicariously through other exceptional individuals. I think that's what lies behind my choice of blog subscriptions: many belong to obscure software developers toiling away in unglamorous roles, but boy do they get stuff done. These guys know how to code! And maybe they're hot on the accordion too just for kicks. I'm almost certain that's why I follow Apple's every move with such baited breath: it's pure and simple hero worship, basking in the glory of geniuses who consistently manage to design things people want to own.
Thing is, my desire to be a hero brings me into conflict with the God who made me. I want his job, wanting people to worship me and recognise how special I am. There's only room enough in this universe for one Supreme Being, and that makes me God's enemy. That's why this week I'm loving Romans 5:8-10:
"But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us... while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son"
It turns out I'm not a hero, I'm a sinner. But it also turns out that I don't need to be a hero to find value and worth - Jesus is a hero in my place. Without doing anything to deserve it or earn it, whilst I was still God's enemy, Jesus died to rescue me. I don't need to stress about not being a hero, or try desperately to prove to myself that I am - he's already accepted me by dying for me. No striving necessary, only simple, humble trust.
That's why I'm starting to write this new series of blog posts, 52 reasons why Jesus is my hero: to help myself recognise just how much of a hero Jesus really is, and to try to turn my gaze away from myself.
I've been doing a lot of thinking lately on the theme of procrastination and how hard it is not to waste the precious time we've been given. A friend of mine put me on to a very helpful essay by Jonathan Edwards, the latter day Puritan who lived during the 18th Century. The essay is absolute gold dust and well worth a read first-hand, but for many of us accomplished procrastinators, it's simply too long! It's also in somewhat antiquated English which doesn't make it all that easy to read if you're not used to the style. So I thought it would be helpful to write a little summary of the essay in simple English - I hope fans of Edwards won't find this too offensive!
Though it's of value to all people, whether religious or not, the essay is essentially a sermon on Proverbs 27:1:
"Do not boast about tomorrow, for you do not know what a day may bring."
Even if you're not normally a fan of the Bible, I think there's some real wisdom in here that bears a moment of consideration - so do keep reading.
To put this into practice ("Don't boast about tomorrow") will involve two things:
Here are some examples of what it would look like to rely upon future time:
The reason why it's daft to rely on future time is simple: we have absolutely no grounds whatsoever for relying on that future time existing. God hasn't promised that we'll live to see tomorrow, and nor can we rely on it. As much as modern medicine may have lulled us into a false sense of security, people still get sick and die suddenly, even at a young age. Accidents happen. There's simply no reason to presume that we'll still be here tomorrow.
Edwards offers the following tests for whether we might be relying on tomorrow:
If you answered 'yes' to any of these things, it's probably a sign that you're relying upon there being a tomorrow.
So how should we live our lives? Well, the massive advantage of not being told exactly how long we've got left is that it enables us to live every day as though it could be our last - that we should be ready for the end to come. You could be dead by this time tomorrow - you've no reason at all to rely upon it being otherwise. As you're about to open that Facebook tab or check your email one last time, remember that it might be the last thing that you ever do.
Here are two motivations to stop relying on future time: