In 1971, when I lived in London, I was working with a friend, Alan Power, on a film about people living rough in the area around Elephant and Castle and Waterloo Station. In the course of being filmed, some people broke into drunken song - sometimes bits of opera, sometimes sentimental ballads - and one, who in fact did not drink, sang a religious song "Jesus' Blood Never Failed Me Yet". This was not ultimately used in the film and I was given all the unused sections of tape, including this one.
When I played it at home, I found that his singing was in tune with my piano, and I improvised a simple accompaniment. I noticed, too, that the first section of the song - 13 bars in length - formed an effective loop which repeated in a slightly unpredictable way. I took the tape loop to Leicester, where I was working in the Fine Art Department, and copied the loop onto a continuous reel of tape, thinking about perhaps adding an orchestrated accompaniment to this. The door of the recording room opened on to one of the large painting studios and I left the tape copying, with the door open, while I went to have a cup of coffee. When I came back I found the normally lively room unnaturally subdued. People were moving about much more slowly than usual and a few were sitting alone, quietly weeping.
I was puzzled until I realised that the tape was still playing and that they had been overcome by the old man's singing. This convinced me of the emotional power of the music and of the possibilities offered by adding a simple, though gradually evolving, orchestral accompaniment that respected the tramp's nobility and simple faith. Although he died before he could hear what I had done with his singing, the piece remains as an eloquent, but understated testimony to his spirit and optimism.
...We don’t finish this service boldly resolving to keep God’s law. We don’t finish by binding ourselves to the commandments and putting ourselves under curses. No, we finish our service by acknowledging that we’re needy, weak beggars, desperate for the Bread of life. And as we come forwards, Mark’s not going to press a To Do list into our hands. He’s not going to give us a lecture or a pep-talk. He’s going to give us Bread and Wine. Because the Christian life is not about our commitment to Jesus, it’s about His commitment to us.
And how zealously Christ is committed to us. He was torn apart like Bread for us. He was poured out like wine for us. He took on Himself ALL the curses that were ours. And He bestows on us ALL the blessings that are His. He’s given to us freely and completely, to be ours forever.
So as we go from here this morning, it’s not with resolutions to try harder. If we leave church with resolutions we’ve failed already. We leave with Christ Himself – Christ given to us, apart from our performance, apart from our commitment, apart from our resolutions. He’s ours. And we are His...
...[For the anorexic], salvation means atoning for myself, bymyself: bearing my punishment in my own body. As I seek to recreate myself, my body becomes the scapegoat. I hate it and identify all that’s wrong in my world with this lump of flesh. Yet at the same time, I also worship it, ritualizing and relishing every aspect of my self-imposed atonement.
Through the rituals, I separate myself from my messy, sinful flesh with its overwhelming desires. I will punish my body while I concentrate on the real me – almighty willpower. With my secret knowledge of exercise and nutrition, I can soar above my own fallibility. I can split myself into two and rise anew, born again to a new kind of humanity.
The Gospel of the Blokey-Hearted doesn't seem to be going away any time soon, so maybe I need to bang some old drums again. For those who missed the rants first time around, here's
And here's a repost regarding a distinct but related problem: when blokey attitudes define marriage...
Today I heard one more story of a keen young gospel soldier recently married. From what I can tell the wife is feeling abandoned, isolated and increasingly desperate. And the husband is pressing on in his ministry service for the Lord!
If I had a minute with the young gun I'd ask him to read about John Wesley's disastrous marriage. Just after John married Molly he wrote to her from the road to inform her of his views on marriage and ministry: "I cannot understand how a Methodist preacher can answer it to God to preach one sermon or travel one day less, in a married than in a single state." (Read more here). It should be a cautionary tale for every young gospel soldier.
But the Wesley model is not dead. I still remember the ringing endorsement our own marriage union gained from a leading UK evangelical while we were still engaged. "You're marrying well there Glen," he said, "She's a doubler." He was referring to a calculation that there are (apparently) ministry doublers and ministry halvers. Thus the question to be asked about every prospective bride is, "Is she a doubler?"
Now that might be a question you ask a prospective PA or church worker. But if that's the first question you want to ask your bride-to-be then, seriously, that's the proof right there. It's not meant to be. And you're the problem! If the prospect of being fruitful and multiplying with this woman inspires a ten year business plan, call it off now. The kind of multiplication God has in mind is multiplication in which you commit to each other for their sakes. And, fellas, the more you want to use her for other ends, the less multiplication's gonna happen!
And I'm not just trying to make a cheap gag here. The Lord has designed marriage to be a multiplying union. But in His economy it turns out to be fruitful as and when you are brought to commit to each other in deep oneness. I mean this physically but I mean it in every other way. The way to ministry multiplication can only be through marriage multiplication which can only happen in and through the union and communion of husband and wife. That's got to be the beating heart of it all.
Single people should definitely seek the Lord's wisdom about who to marry. Wesley should definitely not have married Molly. If two people have massively different expectations of what Christian service will entail then that's a real warning sign. But what first needs to be sorted out in our thinking is the very nature of marriage itself. It is not a ministry multiplication venture. It is a covenant union, joined by God, reflecting Christ to the world. And out of this union comes a multiplication of spiritual and physical children. Under God it cannot help but be fruitful and multiply. But under God He will bring fruitfulness in very unexpected ways. It will not be a multiplication one spouse's prior ministry plans. The old individual plans must die. This will be a new union with a totally new kind of fruitfulness - much of which simply cannot be predicted.
But an understanding of marriage that is anything like a contractual business partnership will strike at the very heart of the covenant union.
I pray for this young couple, that there would be a death to the old individualist/contractual understanding. And that out of that death would come new life in their union and communion. And, yes, that out of that there may even come a wonderful fruitfulness. But it will be His fruitfulness His way.
Last week I spoke of Jesus as infuriating. In Luke 8 His mother, His disciples, Legion, the haemorrhaging woman and Jairus come to Him with perfectly reasonable requests. If such appeals were put to the public vote, we'd all recommend that Jesus grant them. Yet He grants none of them - certainly not in the way that they are asked for.
And if you were any of these poor unfortunates, you would be - at the very least - bewildered. Probably you'd be angry, despairing and very tempted to leave the whole Jesus-caper behind.
But then, what should be said to these followers who have had their dearest hopes dashed? How can Christians be comforted when their deepest desires have been denied?
Some people's first instinct will be to put the blame on these followers. Perhaps they didn't ask right. They didn't have enough faith. Or there's a moral or spiritual failure that's 'blocking the channels of God's grace' or something.
But that's not it. The requests were fine in their own way. And Jesus' refusal is not because they didn't ask right.
So if we're not going to blame the followers, what do we tell them?
- You might invoke the raw power of the Lord. Now is the time to learn that God is God and you are not. Will you submit to His divine right to rule?
- You might notch it up to the inscrutable wisdom of God. Now is the time to learn that God's ways are not for Him to justify, they're just for you to accept.
- You might teach the Christian that, yes, God wants nice things for you but, on the other hand, He also wants your godliness. So here is some suffering to balance out the good times. Submit to the regime and you'll grow in character.
There's actually some truth to these three inter-related approaches. But that's what makes them so dangerous. Power, wisdom and suffering are essential issues to grasp in the Christian life. It's just that a theology of glory teaches one kind of power, wisdom and suffering, and a theology of the cross teaches a very different kind.
A theology of glory will teach that God's power and wisdom estrange Him from us in one direction and our suffering estranges us from God in the other. Hard times actually reinforce the distance between you and God and "godliness" means accommodating yourself to that distance. It means not getting above your station, or pulling Him down.
But a theology of the cross teaches a very different power and wisdom. Christ's power and wisdom are demonstrated as He descends into the darkness. And suffering is precisely where we find our deepest communion with Jesus. Hard times are times of presence.
That might sound ok in theory. But does that mean, once I've embraced a theology of the cross, my problems will be easier to handle? No. In many ways it makes them far harder. With a theology of the cross, it's as though we're sinking in quick-sand and we cry out to our rescuer to offer a steady hand. In response He dives into the pit and sinks without a trace. Now what??
Here's what. He grabs our foot and pulls us under with Him. His rescue does not evade, it enters the depths. Only through suffering does the rescue come. Somehow the way out is the way down.
But none of this happens at a distance. Jesus does not zap us with trials from on high and wish us well. He plunges down, drawing us to Himself.
Think of John 11. We are told explicitly that He loves Lazarus and He loves Lazarus's family (v5). AND He declines to heal him (v6). He comes into the heart of the mourning and weeps at the tomb even though it's a funeral He could have prevented. Jesus' power and love are there for all to see, yet it makes His refusal to heal all the more galling (this is exactly what the crowd murmur about, v37). He loves and He refuses to heal.
What's He up to? Well He tells Martha. He is the Resurrection and the life (v25). And this is God's glory (v4,40). Because He's the Resurrection, therefore death is the path.
It's not just that in spite of His love, He let's Lazarus die. It's because of His love, He let's it happen. Suffering is not a disproof of His love, but a sign that He is utterly and completely for us. He is relentlessly for resurrection.
But notice, He's not the Repairer, He's the Resurrection. We constantly call on Him to patch up the old world, our old life, our old bodies. But Jesus is not committed to that. He's not the Repairer, He's the Resurrection. He's not committed to clawing this old world back from the brink. He's committed to taking it down into the death it deserves and rising anew on the other side. It's a theology of glory that has Jesus at a distance, dispensing carrots and sticks to improve the "old man". In a true theology of the cross, Jesus comes very near to put the old man to death and rise up into something new.
That's what He's doing in the world, and it's what He's doing in your life. He's not partly concerned for patching up your life and partly concerned for giving you enough trials to form your character. He's not balancing your good against 'holiness' or 'godliness' etc etc. He's not inscrutably zapping you with trials that only omniscience could fathom. In a sense, what He's doing is very simple. He is single-mindedly bringing you through the death you're desperate to avoid and giving you the life which is really life.
You want a healing. He is the resurrection. Which means you'll get a death you never bargained for. But a life you never dreamed of.
Emma's book is coming out this week. It's a phenomenal read. Brilliantly written, brutally honest, incisive, touching and hopeful. You'll be hooked from the first sentence.
Emma has struggled with anorexia both as a teenager and as an adult. This book tells her story, but more than this, testifies to the grace of Jesus who met her in the darkness and brought her out.
This book is not just for sufferers and those who care for them - although it will be vitally helpful for them. It's a testimony to Jesus. It's a meditation on the gospel and how it addresses a deadly mental illness, so emblematic of our culture's struggles with food, body, performance and identity. It's one of the most compelling and vivid accounts you'll ever read of the lies that can enslave a person and how the truth sets them free.
In your families, in your congregations and among your friends, there are people struggling deeply with food issues, body issues, OCD, burn-out, anxiety disorders and depression, to name just a few. The body of Christ with the word of Christ has medicine. I don't say "the solution" because "solution"-thinking is a hair's-breadth away from the philosophy behind much of these issues. But we do have gospel balm that the world knows nothing of. Yet Christians are often too scared to get close to these issues.
Too often we palm "problem people" off to medical and psychiatric professionals, expecting them to fix it. Medical and psychiatric help can often be crucial, but A) it's by no means certain you'll find such help - many of these services are incredibly over-stretched, and B) your friendship, prayers and words of grace are absolutely critical alongside professional help.
Emma and I have seen too many people struggling alone with deep problems because their churches have no idea how to help. Christians feel out of their depth and too easily abdicate pastoral responsibilities to the world.
I hope Emma's book makes people see, "Yes we are out of our depth here. But that's precisely where Jesus works - out of our depth." I pray it will equip God's people to see that we have a gospel big enough to handle the biggest issues. And that churches will start to be the places where these problems aren't hidden or exacerbated, but addressed and healed.
Emma's book is coming out this week. It's a phenomenal read. Brilliantly written, brutally honest, incisive, touching and hopeful. You'll be hooked from the first sentence.
Emma has struggled with anorexia both as a teenager and as an adult. This book tells her story, but more than this, testifies to the grace of Jesus who met her in the darkness and brought her out.
This book is not just for sufferers and those who care for them - although it will be vitally helpful for them. It's a testimony to Jesus. It's a meditation on the gospel and how it addresses a deadly mental illness, so emblematic of our culture's struggles with food, body, performance and identity. It's one of the most compelling and vivid accounts you'll ever read of the lies that can enslave a person and how the truth sets them free.
In your families, in your congregations and among your friends, there are people struggling deeply with food issues, body issues, OCD, burn-out, anxiety disorders and depression, to name just a few. The body of Christ with the word of Christ has medicine. I don't say "the solution" because "solution"-thinking is a hair's-breadth away from the philosophy behind much of these issues. But we do have gospel balm that the world knows nothing of. Yet Christians are often too scared to get close to these issues.
Too often we palm "problem people" off to medical and psychiatric professionals, expecting them to fix it. Medical and psychiatric help can often be crucial, but A) it's by no means certain you'll find such help - many of these services are incredibly over-stretched, and B) your friendship, prayers and words of grace are absolutely critical alongside professional help.
Emma and I have seen too many people struggling alone with deep problems because their churches have no idea how to help. Christians feel out of their depth and too easily abdicate pastoral responsibilities to the world.
I hope Emma's book makes people see, "Yes we are out of our depth here. But that's precisely where Jesus works - out of our depth." I pray it will equip God's people to see that we have a gospel big enough to handle the biggest issues. And that churches will start to be the places where these problems aren't hidden or exacerbated, but addressed and healed.
From the very first verse, Job is presented as a blameless and upright man.
The LORD is proud of Job's matchless virtue (1:8; 2:3). Job fears God and shuns evil. And even when calamity falls he does not sin by cursing God (1:22; 2:10). Instead, through all his laments and complaints, the LORD is still able to conclude in chapter 42 and verse 7 that His servant Job has spoken what is right.
And yet, in the verse immediately preceeding this Job has just said:
I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes. (Job 42:6)
Uh-oh, we think. Someone's got self-esteem issues!
But no. In fact Job hasn't been esteeming himself at all. He hasn't been contemplating himself. This is not the fruit of meditating on his sins or even on his sufferings. He hasn't been berating himself because he's a stupid, fat, ugly, unpopular, awkward, friendless failure. He hasn't had a thought about himself for four solid chapters.
Because for four solid chapters he has borne the brunt of the LORD speaking out of the tornado. Job's eyes have been dramatically lifted from himself and fixed on this Warrior Creator Commander called Yahweh. He has experienced the LORD's unanswerable wisdom in surround sound. And so in verse 5 Job summarizes exactly where his self-appraisal has come from:
5 My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you. 6 Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes." (Job 42:5)
“I despise myself” says Job. By comparison with the LORD – upright Job falls flat on his face, confesses himself to be a sinner and says “I despise myself”. And that's a good and right and true and psychologically healthy thing to do. Not that Job wondered to himself "What would be the correct response to meeting my Maker?" It just came out. But as it came out it was extremely healthy.
Now there is a wrong despising of self. There is someone who is not looking at the LORD at all. Instead they look at themselves. They are self-absorbed and with their gaze fixed firmly on their belly-button they are despising themselves. We’ve all been there to some degree or another. And it’s wrong. But mainly it’s wrong for where the self-hater is looking. The object of gaze is the issue - we must get our eyes off ourselves. Then, when looking to Christ, a true appraisal of self will follow - we are (in Tim Keller's words) more wicked than we had ever realised but more loved than we had ever dreamed.
So there is a wrong despising of self - it's when you’re focussed on yourself.
But... there is a right despising of self – when you’re focussed on the LORD.
Isaiah has a similar experience. In Isaiah 6, he sees Jesus in the temple seated on the throne (cf John 12:30f), high and lifted up, the angels are calling out ‘Holy, Holy, Holy’, the temple is shaking, smoke is everywhere and Isaiah cries out:
5 "Woe to me! I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the LORD Almighty."
Isaiah wasn’t feeling particularly sinful that morning. He wasn't running through a list of his prior misdemeanors. No-one was reminding him of past sins. Isaiah felt no guilt at all that morning... until he saw the King. Then he said “Woe to me, I’m ruined!”
Or think of Peter fishing with Jesus in Luke chapter 5. He’s in the boat with the LORD of Isaiah chapter 6. And they have a miraculous catch of fish. And Luke 5 verse 5 says:
When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at Jesus' knees and said, "Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!"
Peter confesses to being a sinner when he sees the glory of Jesus. Peter hasn’t just remembered some sins from his murky past. He’s not even thinking about his sins, he is simply looking at Jesus and saying “I do not match up.”
Of course the ultimate place to look to find a true estimation of yourself is to Christ crucified. That's the sinner's fate. And that was your death - you died with Christ, the old man crucified. You will never be able to feel your way towards this verdict. Preachers, no matter how keenly they focus on individual sins you've committed, can't whip up this sentiment. And turning to yourself in order to work it up is itself sinful. Instead I look to the LORD high and lifted up (Isaiah 6:1 <=> 52:13). I allow the cross to be God's verdict on me. I am co-crucified with Christ and therefore reject the old self completely. And yet
I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. (Gal 2:20)
The true and right self-hatred is fundamentally to allow the cross to be God's verdict on the old you. And your true and right self-appreciation is not gained by trusting in the new you. No, the life you live in the flesh you live by faith in the Son of God. Trust His love for you shown decisively right when you were most hateful.
