Can a person change?

John 3: 1-21 – Jesus and Nicodemus

God so loved the world

This passage is both inspiring and perplexing. It has been used as a wonderful promise and reminder of God’s love. It has also often been misinterpreted and used in a way that I think cheapens the gospel.

The promise: ‘God so loved the world’ (v16); ‘God didn’t send the son into the world to condemn the world, but so that the world could be saved by him.’ (v17) This, surely, means all people, everywhere[1].

The misinterpretation: ‘If you profess to believe a particular set of beliefs and pray a particular form of words, then you are a “born-again” Christian and you will go to heaven when you die, where you will live forever in eternal bliss. If you are not a born-again Christian, then you will be condemned to everlasting torment.’[2]

It is perhaps easy to see how this arises: ‘everyone who believes in him may not perish but have eternal life’ (v18); ‘Those who believe in him are not condemned; but those who do not believe are condemned already’. (v18)

I want to turn that round, reclaim the wonder of this passage, what it meant for Nicodemus in his encounter with Jesus, and what it can mean for us today; to focus on the heart of that encounter, and Nicodemus’ unspoken question: ‘can a person change?’[3]

Jesus and Nicodemus

John places this encounter between Nicodemus and Jesus near the beginning of his gospel and just after Jesus had cleared the temple in Jerusalem. The Jewish religious leaders will have heard about Jesus’ teaching and the miracles he had performed. They would have recognised that many people were starting to follow him. They recognised that Jesus’ action in clearing the temple was potentially threatening, and they wanted to know on what authority he was acting[4].

Nicodemus was a leading figure among the Pharisees, the religious leaders. He may have been sent by them to question Jesus further, or he may have gone on his own accord, wanting to know more. His greeting may have been as much a challenge as a statement of respect: ‘Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God’ (v2) – ‘Are you really?’ ‘Can you prove it?’

I can imagine Nicodemus as someone who was genuinely seeking to follow God, and to lead his people in following God. Perhaps he was longing for his people to turn back to God, follow God’s ways, and so be set free from their oppression by the Romans. The Pharisees believed that such liberation would come by the nation of Israel turning back to God:

‘If you fully obey the Lord your God and carefully follow all his commands… the Lord your God will set you high above all the nations on earth… The Lord will establish you as his holy people as he promised you on oath, if you keep the commands of the Lord your God and walk in his ways. Then all the peoples on earth will see that you are called by the name of the Lord, and they will fear you. The Lord will grant you abundant prosperity… in the land he swore to your forefathers to give you.’ (Deut 28: 1-11)[5]

Nicodemus may have been frustrated by the lack of piety in the people of Israel. Maybe he wanted people to change, to be holy, but just didn’t see that. Maybe he was even frustrated with some of his fellow religious leaders, compromising their purity. He may have been seeking something more from Jesus – ‘can people change?’ ‘Are you the messiah, the one who will bring about this change?’ ‘Are you going to bring God’s kingdom?’

Can other people change?

We can all probably identify people we want to see changed. Maybe our partner, our children, our mother in law; our boss or a difficult colleague at work; or maybe those who are different from us – immigrants, young people, those with mental health problems or addictions; maybe even the person sitting in the pew in front of you.

Pause.

A friend of mine, Dave Andrews, has amended the familiar serenity prayer, recognizing that this isn’t about changing other people…

God, grant me the serenity to accept the people I cannot change,

the courage to change the one I can,

and the wisdom to know that it is me.

Dave Andrews

Can I change?

In his response to Nicodemus, Jesus seems to cut through Nicodemus’ polite greeting with a profound challenge: ‘You want to see the kingdom of God? You want to be part of that kingdom? Well unless you undergo a change as radical as being born afresh[6], you can’t.’[7]

This brings us to the heart of Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus, and the heart of the good news that Jesus was proclaiming.

Nicodemus was an intelligent man, a leader, and someone who knew the scriptures. So, his question wasn’t a silly question. He knew that Jesus wasn’t talking about a person going back into their mother’s womb. I think he was pressing Jesus on a much deeper question: ‘Can a person really change? Can someone be given a second chance? How can someone start again and get it right this time?’ Perhaps even, ‘How can I change?’

And that, perhaps, is a question all of us ask at some point.

Isn’t this desire to be born again in many of us?

Don’t we often want to start anew,

to leave behind past hurts, habits and old ways

that imprison us in the values of our society

and prevent us from growing towards greater freedom?

Jean Vanier, Entering into the mystery of Jesus through the gospel of John

Spend a minute in silence, reflecting on that. Are there things in my life that I would like to change? Do I want a second chance? It may be that I have made mistakes, messed things up and want to start again. It may be that my own life experiences have left me hurt and bruised, or shaped me in a way that leaves me feeling frustrated or imprisoned. It may be that I have tried hard, lived a good life, tried to do the right thing, all the while feeling a sense of condemnation that I am never quite good enough. It may be that I feel trapped by my own anxieties or responsibilities.

Pause

A resounding YES

Jesus’ answer to the question, ‘can a person change?’ is a resounding YES.

Jesus’ response to each one of us, if we are asking, ‘Can I change?’ ‘Can I have a fresh start?’ is a very clear, yes. ‘Yes, you can have a fresh start; you can be born from above; you can be healed, forgiven, made clean, set free. You can be part of my kingdom.’

If we can accept that, then we will be set free from the condemnation that comes, not from God, but from ourselves and other people; from being trapped in a life dominated by greed and violence, that ultimately stifles the freedom, joy and peace that would otherwise be ours. As one of my friends has expressed it:

‘For God loved this world so much he gave humanity one of their own so that whoever could see His kingdom through the eyes of faith and hear with the ears of faith would not waste life on what leads to death but have unimaginable life that defies human ability to understand.’ – Emma Griffiths

Later in John’s gospel[8], when the Pharisees bring before Jesus a woman who had been caught in adultery, condemning her for her lifestyle, for cheating on her husband, Jesus turned their condemnation back on them, and said to the woman, ‘I don’t condemn you. You are forgiven. Now you are free to start afresh. Go, and live a new life.’

How can I change?

Which brings us, finally, to Nicodemus’ question of ‘how?’

And the answer Jesus gives seems to be, ‘believe in me’.

I want to briefly explore that a bit further.

It seems to me that the crucial thing here is that Jesus is inviting us to trust him as a person. He isn’t asking us to blindly believe some abstract theological proposition, or to follow a particular formula for being ‘born again’. Rather he is inviting us to recognise that he came to this earth as the embodiment of God’s love, and through his life, his teaching and ultimately his death, to provide a way for people to come into God’s kingdom and live the way God intended us to live.[9]

This gospel is about growing in trust,

growing in a relationship of love with Jesus.

Belief is not trusting and adhering to an abstract doctrine,

it is believing and trusting in the person of Jesus and in his words.

Jean Vanier

Jesus offers two illustrations of how this might happen:

Healing

‘Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the desert, in the same way the son of man must be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may share in the life of God’s new age.’ (v14-15)[10] This refers to an episode from the early history of the Jews, after they had come out of Egypt and were wandering in the desert, when they were afflicted by poisonous snakes.[11] God instructed Moses to make a bronze snake which he put up on a pole, and anyone who was bitten by a snake, if they looked at the bronze snake, would not die. I’m not too worried about the how, why, or even whether this miracle happened. What is important, I think, is to see the implications of the story: that the Israelites were suffering and dying; that there was nothing they could do to save themselves; but that when they looked towards God’s solution, they were saved.[12] Each one of us needs to accept that we cannot change ourselves – it isn’t a matter of just trying to be a better person; we need to look beyond ourselves to God’s solution:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the people I can’t change;

The courage to change the one I can;

And the humility to admit that I cannot do this in my own strength

2. The wind

‘No-one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit [Greek, pneuma]… The wind [pneuma] blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.’

There is a vulnerability in trusting/following Jesus:

To open ourselves up to this new life

is like making a journey or going on a pilgrimage.

There may be times when we do not understand Jesus,

perhaps times of doubt, anger and rebellion.

Little by little, however, trust grows

until it becomes an unconditional trust in Jesus,

Son of Man and Son of God.

We become more open to him and to his love and friendship,

whatever happens, whatever the cost or pain.

Whatever the apparent silence or absence of Jesus,

we give him our trust and believe in him.

This is the gift of God, the gift of new life,

given to us as a tiny seed when we are baptized,

cleansed by water and the Spirit.

This seed needs to be nourished in order to grow gradually,

often through pain,

into an unconditional surrender to God.

It can take time for our protective walls to weaken

and for the journey to openness to begin.

Born from above by water and the Spirit

we are called to gradually grow in love.

The seed of the Spirit has been planted in us.

We must learn how to nourish this seed

so that it can grow and bear much fruit.

This journey, our pilgrimage of love, begins and deepens

as we hear God murmur within our hearts:

“I love you just as you are.

I so love you that I come to heal you and to give you life.

Do not be afraid. Open your hearts.

It is all right to be yourself.

You do not have to be perfect or clever.

You are loved just as you are.

As you become more conscious that you are loved,

you will want to respond to that love with love, and grow in love.

Jean Vanier

[1] Perhaps ‘so that the world could be saved by him’ can be interpreted on an even wider level, and could apply to our world in terms of environment, society, culture.

[2] I might go as far as to say that this is actually a heresy or blasphemy. Since the very next verse states categorically that ‘God didn’t send his son into the world to condemn the world’ to use the previous verse in a condemnatory way to judge and exclude others is perhaps a heresy.

[3] John’s gospel suggests that Nicodemus was, indeed, changed, and became a follower of Jesus: John 7: 47-52; John 19: 38-42

[4] John 2:18: ‘what sign are you going to show us to explain why you’re doing this?’

[5] This was also emphasised in much of the teaching of the prophets, such as Ezekiel 36: 24-28 which Jesus alludes to in his emphasis on being born from above, of water and the spirit: ‘For I will take you out of the nations; I will gather you from all the countries and bring you back into your own land. I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you will be clean; I will cleanse you from all your impurities and from all your idols. I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws. You will live in the land I gave your forefathers; you will be my people, and I will be your God.’

[6] v3 ‘Unless someone has been born from above…’ Greek anōthen has a double meaning, ‘anew’ and ‘from above’.

[7] This ties in with Jesus’ equally profound challenges in Matthew 18:3 and Mark 10:15: ‘unless you change and become like little children you will never enter the kingdom of heaven’. I explore both of these in depth in my book, Growing up to be a child

[8] John 8: 3-11

[9] However, we need to recognise that Jesus’ invitation is an invitation. He does not compel us to accept it. And that may help to explain verses 18-21. To accept Jesus’ invitation is to make ourselves vulnerable, to come into the light and be seen for who we are. Many people will not accept that, and will remain, in a state of darkness. That, perhaps is what is meant by ‘those who do not believe are condemned already’: we are all in darkness, it is only by accepting the light that we can make a fresh start, born from above.

[10] ‘eternal life’ in verses 16 and 18: the Greek aiōnios signifies the age to come (aiōnes = ages). So Tom Wright translates as ‘This, you see, is how much God loved the world: enough to give his only, special son, so that everyone who believes in him should not be lost but should share in the life of God’s new age.’

[11] Numbers 21: 1-9

[12] This is reflected in the first 2 steps of the AA 12-step programme:

We admitted that we were powerless over alcohol – that our lives had become unmanageable;

We came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.

April 24, 2016April 24, 2016

The hills are alive!

“Take rest once more, O my soul,

for the Lord has been good to you.”

Psalm 116:7

Last week I was taken by surprise with an unexpected joy.

I had headed North to Kettlewell for a few days’ quiet retreat at Scargill House – a wonderful little community in the heart of the Yorkshire Dales. As I drove up through the traffic of M6, the drizzly rain somewhat reflected how my spirit was feeling. I had been struggling over recent weeks with a sense of heaviness: anger at some of the injustice around us; feeling perplexed by a God who seems to make it unbelievably difficult for people to find; grappling with some of the deep paradoxes of a faith that appears to provide more questions than answers. And then, that morning, I had heard the news that a dear friend, whom I was planning to see that day, had died during the night.

So I wasn’t quite sure what I was letting myself in for by going on retreat. I was steeling myself for three days of wrestling with the hard questions, shedding a few tears, and shouting at God.

As I drove into Wharfedale, however, the rain stopped, and by the time I’d settled into my room and had a cup of tea and my first helping of the wonderful cakes that the community magically produce each day, the sun was shining on the moors above.

So I put on my boots and headed out for a short stroll up through the woods before evening prayer. As I climbed up to the crags, my spirit seemed to lift within me, as a symphony of birds surrounded me. Out on the top, the skies were now clear with a bright sun slowly sinking towards the western side of the valley. I found myself running over the mossy banks, my soul jumping and dancing inside, just like the two little deer that I had startled on my way up. There’s no way I could explain this immense feeling of joy.

Eventually as the dusk started to gather around me, I wandered back down through the woods, and as I approached Scargill House I could see the community gathering for prayer in their amazing Scandinavian-style wood chapel. Running down the last few hundred yards, I left my boots at the door and thought I might just slip quietly into the chapel to join the others for evening prayer.

That was not to be. The chapel at Scargill is set up in such a way that as you enter, you are in full view of everyone who is sitting there in pious contemplation!

So, feeling rather sheepishly like Maria von-Trapp-to-be, I took my place just as the community was settling down to a time of silent contemplation on Psalm 114.

“Why was it, O Sea, that you fled,

O Jordan, that you turned back,

You mountains that you skipped like rams,

You hills, like lambs?”

Psalm 114: 5,6

I suspect that God, too, was having a bit of a chuckle.

April 3, 2016April 3, 2016

Banksy on the mount I: The Beatitudes

Now when he saw the crowds,

he went into the urban jungle

and began to paint…

.

The Beatitudes…

Blessed are the poor in spirit,

for theirs is the kingdom of heaven

Blessed are those who mourn,

for they will be comforted

Blessed are the meek,

for they shall inherit the earth

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,

for they will be filled

Blessed are the merciful,

for they will be shown mercy

Blessed are the pure in heart,

for they will see God

Blessed are the peacemakers,

for they will be called children of God

Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,

for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Banksy on the Mount: a series of reflections

February 8, 2016February 8, 2016

A Sacred Gaze

encountering Jesus through art

in Lent or in Ordinary weeks

This series of eight meditations draws on the art of Sieger Köder, selections from Psalm 107, and passages from the gospel as aids to being open to God, encountering God’s presence and love, and reflecting on personal and global issues.

The meditations can be used through Lent, Holy Week, and the week after Easter, but can also be used at other times throughout the year, as a series, or as individual meditations.

Each meditation is ‘located’ in a particular time of day, but can be used at whatever time works best for you.

It is our prayer that you will find them a helpful source of inspiration, comfort and challenge.

Click here to go to the meditations

February 7, 2016February 7, 2016

Walking together – being transformed

Walking together – being transformed: Holy Trinity Church, Coventry, 7th February

2 Corinthians 3:12 – 4:2

Luke 9:28-36

The Transfiguration

The Transfiguration
Saint Elias Orthodox Church
Austin, Texas

The transfiguration must be one of the most puzzling events in the gospels: Jesus, appearing to three of his disciples, in glory, together with two Old Testament characters, Moses and Elijah. It is a popular subject for iconographers: showing the terror of the three disciples, the stature of Moses and Elijah, and in the centre, the transcendent glory of Jesus.

So what is the transfiguration all about? What does it have to do with Walking with Jesus? And what does it have to do with our other reading today, of Moses and the veil?

It is worth looking at the two characters who were with Jesus:

Moses – representative of the law, tradition, rules and regulations;

Elijah – representative of the prophets, vision, justice

Both represent something very good. The law and tradition give us something solid to build on: the past, our history. The prophets give us a vision of and hope for the future. We need both.

‘Only be careful, and watch yourselves closely so that you do not forget the things your eyes have seen or let them fade from your heart as long as you live. Teach them to your children and to their children after them.’ (Deuteronomy 4:9)

‘Where there is no vision, the people perish’ (Proverbs 29:18)

Jesus himself affirmed the law and the prophets:

‘Don’t suppose that I came to destroy the law or the prophets. I didn’t come to destroy them; I came to fulfil them.’ (Matt 5:17)

So, both are good, but neither of them are ultimately able to transform us completely.

It is as though there is a veil over the reality that we are seeking. So 2 Corinthians talks about the veil that Moses wore after meeting with God (this is described in Exodus 34: 29-35), and how, even then in the first century AD, a veil is worn when the scripture is read. Paul goes on to describe how a similar veil covers our minds, so that we cannot fully understand what we read in scripture: ‘Indeed, to this very day whenever Moses is read, a veil lies over their minds’ (2 Cor 3:15). In Paul’s earlier letter to the Corinthians, says, ‘As for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end. For we know only in part, and we prophesy only in part.’ (1 Cor 13: 8,9)

Moses and Elijah both encountered God (Exodus 33: 18-23; 1 Kings 19:9-13). Neither, however, was permitted to see God’s face:

‘Moses said, “Show me your glory, I pray.” And [the Lord] said, “I will make all my goodness pass before you… But, you cannot see my face; for no one shall see me and live.”’ (Exodus 33: 18-20)

Removing the veil

I think that one of the key points of the transfiguration is that now, in Jesus, that veil is removed, and we are able, through Jesus, to know God for who God is; as it were, to ‘see God’s face’.

So, in the icon, both Moses and Elijah are able to look at Jesus, in his glory, without any veil. Jesus himself said, ‘Anyone who has seen me has seen the father’ (John 14: 9). John starts his gospel stating that ‘Nobody has ever seen God’ (John 1:18), but that Jesus has made God known:

‘And the Word became flesh, and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth’ (John 1: 14).

So Paul, in his letter to the Corinthians which we read today, says that ‘when one turns to the Lord, the veil is removed’ (2 Cor 3: 16). It is as though he is saying, if we look at Jesus, and walk with Jesus, we will begin to see what God is truly like.

And, in doing so, we ourselves will be changed, transformed:

‘And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.’ (2 Corinthians 3: 18)

So this is about each one of us being transformed, changed into Christ’s likeness, each of us becoming more of the person God intends us to be: our true selves.

How are we transformed?

This is all about grace – we are being transformed; it is not about us struggling to change.

According to Richard Rohr, only two things in life are truly transformational: great love and great suffering.

Jesus is the essence of this transformation through suffering and love: we see this, for example, in him washing his disciples’ feet, the last supper, his crucifixion.

That is something, too, that I have found in my experience.

Four years ago, many of my friends sat with me in Holy Trinity Church, as we remembered my wife, Helen’s life, and shared our tears over her sudden death.

But Helen, in those two weeks before she died, in a beautiful retreat centre outside Manila, discovered something of what it truly means to be God’s beloved child: standing under a waterfall, making rainbows, and knowing the amazing grace of God’s love washing down over her.

Helen making rainbows in the waterfall at Tanay, Manila, January 2012

And I, too, over the past four years, have experienced something of that same grace. Of knowing that I, too, am God’s beloved child. Through the tears of losing Helen, the stillness of quiet dawns in the months that followed, the peace of silent retreats in Wales, and the new-found joy of marrying Lois, I believe that I, too, am being transformed.

Which brings us to the question of how we are transformed. Both of our passages today suggest that we are transformed by looking at Jesus, contemplating his love, gazing into his face.

Tom Wright puts it like this:

‘And all of us, without any veil on our faces, gaze at the glory of the Lord as in a mirror, and so are being changed into the same image, from glory to glory’ (2 Cor 3:18)

However, we cannot just look into the face of Jesus. He isn’t here, we can’t see him. So it has to mean something more than that.

Perhaps it is more to do with the whole concept of walking with Jesus: spending time with Jesus, getting to know him, finding out who he really is, and listening to what Jesus might be saying to us about who we really are and how we can live life fully.

This painting of the transfiguration by Sieger Koder I think captures the event quite differently from the typical icons. In Koder’s painting, the disciples, rather than falling away in terror, are portrayed in attitudes of prayer or contemplation. The transfiguration occurred in the context of these disciples spending time with Jesus over three years, listening to his teaching, getting to know him, walking with him.

So, for us, being transformed is a consequence of spending time with Jesus, listening to his teaching, getting to know him, walking with him.

As part of that, we, like the disciples, can spend time in contemplation, perhaps using our imaginations to enter into the presence of Jesus and to listen to him: to, as it were, gaze into the face of Jesus.

I want to explore briefly what it means to walk with Jesus and get to know him. I will pose three questions which I would encourage you to go away and spend time with. I will give some pointers, but leave it to you to fill in the substance.

What do we see when we spend time getting to know Jesus?

Not our usual image of success/power/beauty: ‘He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him… like one from whom men hide their faces; a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering’ (Isaiah 53:2-3)
Jesus knew that he was God’s beloved child. There are two accounts in the gospels of God speaking directly about Jesus. Both record God speaking of Jesus as his own, beloved son:
- At his Baptism: ‘This is my son, my beloved one, I am delighted with him’ (Matthew 3: 17)
- At his Transfiguration: ‘This is my son, my chosen one’ (Luke 9:35) or ‘This is my son, my beloved; with him I am well-pleased’ (Matt 17: 5)

Ideas for contemplation:

Read through one of the gospels. As you read, make a note of what it tells you about Jesus: what was he like as a person? What were his priorities? How did he interact with other people? How did he relate to God?

How do we walk with Jesus?

Through stillness and silence (but beware, this can be painful)
Read, with fresh eyes, the life and teaching of Jesus (e.g. Beatitudes, Sermon on the Mount)
Encounters with those who are suffering, those who are broken (Matt 25: 31-46)
Embracing our own suffering and brokenness (2 Cor 4: 7-12)

Ideas for contemplation:

Take some time just to be still; find a quiet place where you can be uninterrupted. Try a centering prayer or one of the approaches to contemplative prayer on this website, and allow God to speak to you in the silence.

What happens when we walk with Jesus?

We see something more of our true self
We recognise that we, too, are God’s beloved children
We are transformed to become more like Jesus (our true self) = beatitudes; fruit of the spirit (love-inspired transformation, not 8 Essential Qualities!)

Ideas for contemplation:

Write a letter to yourself, as if from God. What would God want to say to you in a letter?

Spend some time with the following Examen questions:

In what ways have I been transformed to be more like Jesus over the past few months?

In what ways might God be wanting to transform me over the next few months?

‘But remember: that transformed version of you is known and present to God right now. God dwells in eternity, and is already intimately acquainted with this version of you. If you can trust this, then you can reach out and allow God to help you step through the veil between time and eternity. On the other side, in the hidden place where he waits for you, you can be your truest self. That is the self that can be naked and unashamed, that can look, unflinching, straight into the face of God. And when we look into that face and know ourselves beloved, it will be the most natural thing in the world to lay all that we have and all that we are at his feet.’ – Susan Pitchford, The Sacred Gaze, p50

It is by spending time with Jesus: walking with him, gazing into his face, taking his life and teaching seriously, and above all, by knowing that we, like Jesus, are God’s beloved children, that we are transformed.

I want to finish with an amazing tale of transformation from two of our friends in Servants, who spent 16 years living in a slum area in Cambodia.

Amongst our neighbours in Chbaa Ampou in Phnom Penh, the person in whom we most saw all this worked out was our friend Om Khuen. A deeply sincere Buddhist, she was the most gracious, caring person we knew in our community. And yet, there was no earthly reason she should have been. Like most Cambodians, she had suffered enormously under Pol Pot’s regime. Moreover, she’d been press-ganged into a forced marriage by the Khmer Rouge, and was trying to make the best of it even though he was a hopeless alcoholic, more often drunk than sober. She worked hard, running a shanty “grocery store” in our slum (really a bamboo bed with a tarp strung over it), but she never made any money – mainly because her clientele were so poor, and out of her big heart she kept extending them credit. She struggled almost single-handedly to keep her family of three girls and a boy together.

And then, during our first year in Cambodia, another horrible tragedy struck her family. Vibol, her son and oldest child at 21, the apple of her eye and as an apprentice gold-smith, part of the family’s hope for a better future, was murdered. Not far from where we lived, he’d been mugged for his motor scooter, and had fought back. He was stabbed multiple times and bled to death.

Life moved on, as it always does. But below the surface, deeper things were putting down roots in Om Khuen’s heart. One day, seven years after that horrible murder, Om Khuen dropped by to see us, her voice quivering with emotion. She told us that after all these years of observing the Christians in the village, seeing how they behaved, and weighing it all up, she had decided she wanted to become a follower of Jesus, too. We were, of course, both thrilled and stunned. But then, a few weeks later, our excitement over Om Khuen’s decision—and our respect for her as a person—grew even greater.

Om Khuen had been eagerly attending the cell group (Bible study) gatherings in our neighbourhood, and one evening Om Kheun dropped in to share with Susan and me something she believed God had spoken to her. She had read in the gospels that Jesus calls us to forgive those who have wronged us (to forgive their debts). With this new insight, she had examined her heart and found that there was

something tainting her relationships in the village. Over the years, she had extended so much credit to other families that it now amounted to hundreds of dollars (a huge amount in a little slum economy). Om Kheun realized that she felt angry and frustrated with those who owed her so much, because she would be so much further ahead in life if they paid their debts. But she also realized that those poor families were deeply ashamed of the debts they would never be able to repay, and they avoided her as much as possible. She neither wanted to feel bitter, nor to be avoided. Inspired by what she read in the gospels, she decided to wipe the slate clean. Taking her record book in hand, she went from family to family, and before their eyes, drew a line through their debt, declaring it ‘forgiven.’ At the stroke of a pen, they were set free—and so was she.

Kristin Jack (Servant’s Quarters, November 2015 p9-10 www.servantsasia.org)

I want to be part of a church in which we are seeing that kind of love-inspired transformation.

December 30, 2015

the time of your life : three meditations for the new year

“Live your life on purpose: this is the time of your life!”

“Look at those children, they’re having the time of their lives”

And you? Watching you, are you having the time of your life?

Am I living the life I love? Or loving the life I’m living?

Or are we scrambling about on the edges of our lives?

Frustrated and dissatisfied somehow – this wasn’t how it was meant to be.

“Something is pushing them

to the side of their own lives.”

-Philip Larkin

It’s time to stop, pause and watch ourselves.

Somewhere in the leisurely days of Christmas and New Year, there is a pausing time, and quiet space …

Claim it!

Click below to open three short meditations for the new year:

Pausing at New Year

December 28, 2015December 28, 2015

Refugee: A sonnet for Epiphany by Malcolm Guite

This sonnet by Malcolm Guite brings a contemporary relevance to Herod’s slaughter of the innocents in the first century. Click on the link to listen to the poem.

Refugee

We think of him as safe beneath the steeple,

Or cosy in a crib beside the font,

But he is with a million displaced people

On the long road of weariness and want.

For even as we sing our final carol

His family is up and on that road,

Fleeing the wrath of someone else’s quarrel,

Glancing behind and shouldering their load.

Whilst Herod rages still from his dark tower

Christ clings to Mary, fingers tightly curled,

The lambs are slaughtered by the men of power,

And death squads spread their curse across the world.

But every Herod dies, and comes alone

To stand before the Lamb upon the throne.

December 19, 2015January 25, 2016

O Radix: to become more rooted

Lois and I have been inspired and challenged today by Malcolm Guite’s sonnet, O Radix – based on one of the seven advent ‘O Antiphon’ prayers.

So much of our lives end up being un-rooted, superficial, flitting around in ever-increasing busyness. As we looked back on 2015 (a truly good year), we realised that we, too, have filled our moments up with things: trips away, activities here and there, clutter, doing rather than being. As Guite puts it,

“We surf the surface of a wide-screen world

and find no virtue in the virtual.”

So as we look ahead to the year to come, with all its promise, we are wondering how we can make it more rooted. Here are some of our thoughts – how much we will achieve this remains to be seen:

By strengthening and valuing our family roots – spending time with parents, children, grandchildren;
By being more present to the present – being more engaged in what we are doing, saying no a bit more, not spreading ourselves too thinly;
By putting down our roots where we are – here in Coventry, trying to do more locally, cutting down on time away;
By caring more for our local community and environment – trying to build a bit more simplicity into our lives, respect for others and for our world.

O Radix – Malcolm Guite

All of us sprung from one deep-hidden seed,

Rose from a root invisible to all.

We knew the virtues once of every weed,

But, severed from the roots of ritual,

We surf the surface of a wide-screen world

And find no virtue in the virtual.

We shrivel on the edges of a wood

Whose heart we once inhabited in love,

Now we have need of you, forgotten Root

The stock and stem of every living thing

Whom once we worshiped in the sacred grove,

For now is winter, now is withering

Unless we let you root us deep within,

Under the ground of being, graft us in.