My Bookshelf has Died

Treasures old

My heroes are all dead. The book of Joshua in the Old Testament starts with the words Moses:

‘Moses, my servant, is dead. Now, therefore, arise, go over this Jordan.’

The heroes I am referring to here are all the twentieth-century ‘apostles’; apostles in the sense that in their wake new Charismatic churches came into being that would not have done so otherwise.

Many wrote influential books, and I must have read most of them from the mid-1970s onwards, firstly as an antagonistic agnostic, then, later, as a believer.

This is a roll of honour but with a prophetic bite:

David Watson – CofE Vicar in York (d.1984)

Arthur Wallis – pioneer of Restoration churches (1988)

John Wimber – Vineyard Ministries, in UK via 1984 London and Brighton conferences in (1997)

Bryn Jones – Harvestime churches in Bradford, Restoration Magazine, and Dales Bible Weeks (2003)

Michael Harper – CofE Vicar who started The Fountain Trust and Renewal Magasine (2010)

David Wilkerson – American Pentecostal ‘Cross and the Switchblade’ (2011)

Lance Lambert – Halford House church Richmond then ministry on Israel (2015)

Barney Combes – Salt & Light ministries (2018)

Michael Green – CofE Vicar – apologist e.g. Runaway World (2019)

Francis MacNutt – Catholic author with a healing ministry (2020)

David Pawson – pastor, prophetic preacher, and author (2020)

Colin Urquhart – CofE Vicar, author of ‘When the Spirit Comes’, later Kingdom Faith churches (2021)

Juan Carlos Ortiz – an Argentinian Pentecostal wrote ‘Call to Discipleship’ (2021)

Yonghi Cho – largest church in the world in Seoul, Korea (2021)

Gerald Coates – Pioneer Churches (2022)

You may wish to add others. Terry Virgo of ‘New Frontiers’, survives them all.

In the UK, all of the ‘new churches’ can trace their roots back to at least one of the above, many of whom left denominational churches to form what became known as the Charismatic churches – ‘charisma’ being Greek for gift and in this context the renewal, restoration, or rediscovery of the gifts of the Spirit as, for example, in 1Corinthians12.

We are, therefore, at a Joshua moment, ‘Moses’ in the form of all of the above charismatic pioneers, has died. They have brought us so far…where now?

For many, I suspect, the answer will be ‘more of the same’ in honour of those who pioneered for the previous generation an their convictions, visions, and faith.

But there are two problems with this:

1. The Danger of Getting Stuck in a Rut - Denominational ruts.

When asked whether he thought the Vineyard Movement would become a denomination John Wimber gave the answer ‘Probably’. None of the above espoused denominational thinking and, rather, sought to be a blessing to the whole body of Christ. All the early conferences and bible weeks drew Christians from all denominations, Baptists, Anglicans, Pentecostals, Brethren…but over time their ‘distinctives’ have become denominations colloquially called ‘Streams’. Each stream having its own organisation, conferences, leadership training programs, bible/theological seminaries, church planting programs and so on. And they are all present in the major cities and towns across the UK, each one vying in the spiritual marketplace, if not for pre-eminence, certainly to make their mark. ‘Celebrations’, or city-wide gatherings, which used to draw Christians from all denominations no longer exist; attempting to have the above streams share one platform is problematic.

Each stream has become unmoored from its original purpose and fallen into the Wimber trap.

They will continue to reproduce their own.

The reality of the kingdom of God, however, is that it cannot be contained in old wineskins.

2. Gap in the teeth – theological gap

In May of 1738, John Wesley wrote in his journal: "In the evening I went very unwillingly to a society in Aldersgate, where one was reading Luther’s preface to the Epistle to the Romans. About a quarter before nine, while he was describing the change which God works in the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely warmed.” He had discovered, like Luther before him, that salvation, or a restored relationship with God, is obtained by faith and not by ‘works’ or human effort. Whilst he wished to remain faithful to the Church of England as one of its ministers, in the end, because of the hostility of much of the established Church towards his preaching, he ordained his own ministers and preachers, and the Methodist Church was born. At the heart of his preaching was the substitutionary sacrifice of Christ on the cross: Christ died ‘for us’, in our place. It is faith in this aspect of Christ’s death that leads to an individual’s salvation and being born again according to John chapter 3 ‘Unless a man be born again, he cannot enter the Kingdom of God’. By the end of his ministry approximately 70,000 had been ‘born again’ in England when the population was 8 million. Preaching themes such as ‘Justification by faith’, and ‘Under grace not under law’ flowed from this theological foundation.

In April 1906, the Azusa Street Revival led by William J. Seymour, an African-American preacher began in California. On the night of April 9, 1906, Seymour and seven men were praying, "when suddenly, as though hit by a bolt of lightning, they were knocked from their chairs to the floor" and began to speak in tongues and shout out loud praising God. The news quickly spread; the city was stirred; crowds gathered; and services were moved outside to accommodate the crowds; people fell down under the power of God; were baptized in the Holy Spirit, and the sick were healed. The Pentecostal experience, seemingly lost since the days of the Apostles, had returned. Many were rejected by their denominational churches and were forced to form their own assemblies which later became the Pentecostal Churches.

If ‘salvation by faith alone’ was restored to the church by Luther in 1500s, and then re-introduced in the UK in the 1700s through Wesley, ‘baptism in the Spirit’ was restored by events in Azusa Street in 1906 and brought to the UK via Pentecostal churches and, later, by Michael Harper in the mid-1960s in setting up the Fountain Trust meetings to which thousands of leaders and members of all denominations attended and received the baptism in the Spirit for themselves.

The gap

The theology underpinning much of the Reformation, and the Pentecostal and Charismatic movement is founded on the substitutionary death of Christ on the cross. There were always theologians such as Watchman Nee that called for this theology to be seen as one-half of the message of the cross, but this fell, largely on deaf ears. The other half, according to Nee and others, involves considering the scriptures that portray the death of Christ and His resurrection as inclusive as well as substitutionary. In simple terms, if the substitutionary sacrifice dealt with our ‘sins’ and procured for us the forgiveness of sins, the inclusive sacrifice of Christ on the cross secures our deliverance from sin. In the first, the sinner is forgiven, acquitted, and justified. In the second the sinner is crucified with Christ, is removed altogether only to be raised, in Christ, as a new creation. The first dealt with sins once and for all; the second dealt with the sinner once and for all.

A cursory inspection of two well-known Systematic Theologies, by Louis Berkhof and Wayne Grudem, will confirm that the main scriptures that deal directly with the inclusive nature of the crucifixion (Rom 6v1-6; Gal 2v20; Col 3v3,4) are either not mentioned or given very little importance and quoted as supporting scriptures of substitutionary atonement.

To quote Watchman Nee (The Normal Christian Life) ‘That Christ has died is a fact…and that you have died is a fact also. Let me tell you You have died! You are done with! You are ruled out!’

Galatians 2v20, for example, encompasses both aspects of the cross of Christ:

‘I have been crucified with Christ, it is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me. The life I now live, I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave Himself for me’

The Son of God…who gave Himself for me – substitutionary

I have been crucified with Christ – inclusive

In closing

If we are to fully receive the gospel of the kingdom as revealed in the New Testament we must be able to answer Paul’s question posed in Romans:

‘Do you not know that as many of us as were baptised into Christ Jesus were baptised into His death…knowing this that our old man was crucified?’ 6 v 3,6

This is the question facing the church at the present and, just as Seymour’s students grappled honestly with the question ‘Did you receive the Spirit when you believed?’ until the gift was poured down upon them from on High if we wish to make progress this question must be answered. It will herald a fresh understanding of our union with Christ in His death and resurrection and herald a fresh release from our attempts to ‘run the show’. And allow elders and leaders of churches to die to any notion of eminence or pre-eminence in their location and free them to seek out their brothers and sisters, fellow leaders, across a region so that the whole body of Christ is built up and freed from human control, knowing that Christ is our life, and that Jesus really is Head of the church.

In 1 Corinthians Paul makes it clear the church in Corinth had slipped into ‘streams’, each stream looking to an ‘apostle’ for their distinctive identity – ‘we’re with Paul’, or ‘we’re with Cephas’. Paul corrects them; it was never Paul’s ministry, or Peter’s mission. In our day we’re not to say, ‘we’re with New Frontiers’, or ‘Vineyard’, or ‘Kingdom Faith’…or the ‘CofE’, or ‘The AoG’, or the various African denominations. All those means of identification died in Christ. They may have a legitimate place in the blend of churches in a location, but it is ‘unto Him that the gathering of the people shall be’. Locked away in our streams and older denominations we are like Ezekiel’s rattling bones, and we face a choice, just like the people of God faced a choice once Moses had died; whether to cross the Jordan and press on. In this new day we can either stay put as rattling bones in the graveyard of our pioneering and apostolic heroes of the past or yield afresh to the Lord Jesus and all He has done for us on the cross and in His resurrection, believe that when He died, we died, that we are one with Him, and one with all who are in Christ. Christ is our life.

My bookshelf still has several of the books I read in the 1970s. They’re a bit battered now. Yellowing Sellotape holds some pages and spines together. Treasures old. But this is a new day when new treasures are being mined, new books will be written (e.g. Lance Lambert’s final book ‘Jacob I have Loved’), new songs sung, and churches will spring up that are as different as rock was to jazz, mobiles to landlines, or electric to petrol cars.

‘Moses, my servant is dead. Now, therefore, go over this Jordan’

The Seven Postcards Series iii

The Seven Postcards Series – a parable in three parts from beyond the beyond

Series 1. From Abram, and replies from Haran

Series 2. From John, and replies from Zebedee

Series 3. From Samuel, and replies from Neo

Neo, Day 5. Thank you for sending the postcards. You always set puzzles don’t you instead of spitting it out! I think I get it though. Here’s my first attempt. You set about my agnosticism and questions like bank robber, looking for an entrance. And you found it, didn’t you? It’s a while ago, but I agreed that I should examine the primary source, the New Testament. And we argued. And argued. Maybe you knew that I had always wanted it to be true, but what you told me seemed too good to be true – I remember saying that to you! You stopped being a bank robber, you turned into a Roman Legion and I was under siege, you pounding at my defences with talk of grace, of it being freely given, of being under grace not law, of the gift of righteousness, the gift of eternal life. That repentance was like the early disciples leaving everything to follow Him. And for me it was leaving any attempt to be good or to be like Christ and accept the gift and that He would do it. A free lunch? I scoffed. You said I couldn’t earn it. And I began to see. You told me about Eden, but it was Abraham that finished it for me. That it was the ‘faith’ of Abraham that God counted as righteousness. Anyway, that’s a few years ago now, and here I am reading about the faith of Abraham once again. I must go. Will continue. With annoying curiosity stirred, Samuel.

Samuel, Day 9. It was your last sentence that spurred me on to write again! It took a burning bush for Moses. And a few postcards in your case. Notice the similarities in both sets of exchanges. And I am Neo, as you say. But who am I to you? If you can answer that you’ll be on your way to solving the puzzle and, yes, it is a puzzle but more like a jigsaw than a chess puzzle. With chess, it’s the solution that is the end of the puzzle; with a jigsaw the solution paints a picture and is a start, not a finishing point. Also, you’re right to summarise the early battles we had over grace and the free gift of righteousness and eternal life, but you left out a gift and one that cost me and my generation everything. Maybe that’s what you hinted you would continue into? Yours, Neo.

Neo, Day 16. Before I try and answer your questions, I’m curious to know what persona you have shape-shifted into? No longer the bank robber or Legionnaire. Who are you to me? I think I can see the pattern here. Nahor was Abram’s father as was Zebedee to John. And both sons had to leave their fathers’ to…well, it was quite different in each case. Canaan and Christ. So, you are a father to me. In the faith I mean. That’s true. You always were and can still be even though we live on different continents. You stayed in Canberra and I’m currently in Cleethorpes. What do I know about your generation? I know you told me that great crowds left their normal churches and chapels to hear about the revival in Lewis and that it left you realising that no-one had preached about the gift of the Spirit. And then how you were seeking God and you experienced the baptism of the Holy Spirit. You were so excited you went to share your story with the Vicar and everyone else that would listen. And how the Vicar told you and your friends to leave immediately and not to worry the sheep. Is that it? How you were forced in the end to form groups, new churches. If I’m right, Neo, I am now more troubled than ever. Why the postcards? But why remind me? But I’m still curious. Why remind me and why now?

Samuel, Day 38. I apologise for the longer gap than usual. I’ve been unwell. The truth is, Samuel, I have weeks left. I thought I had more, but the doctors say not. In my heart, I’m closer to heaven. Did I tell you, I once heard angels singing? When I was much younger. Anyway, let’s not linger on this. Yes, you are right about the cost to my generation. It caused no end of strife in families. Typically, when a member of a Christian family who had worshipped together and had genuinely believed the gospel, was filled with the Spirit the family would be put under strain and the churches they were in. Especially when the gifts of the Spirit were practiced, like speaking in tongues or healing. And new songs were being written to capture the moment. Some whole churches embraced it all and become ‘renewed’ but individuals often faced a terrible choice, to stay put and try and squash the gift of the Spirit, or find others and form new churches. That’s what I and a number of others did. It was hard, Samuel, leaving people you loved. My Vicar never did understand. It caused him pain to lose so many from his own congregation. But they were too hungry to stay. Like young lions we were. But that’s my generation. I’m reminding you because I know you are restless.

Dear Neo, Day 42. I can’t quite believe you’re dying. Sorry to be blunt. I hope you are strong enough by the time this postcard reaches you to reply once more, as I think you’ll want to. The puzzle is coming together, isn’t it? Maybe I should call you Nahor, the father who left Ur but never made it to Canaan and settled in Haran. You had your griefs and sacrificed much but what you led your family into was a staging post, not the final goal. Yes, I am restless. And have been for some time. You pioneered what has become commonplace. To continue the analogies, there are many ‘Haran’ churches across the globe: Evangelical, bible believing, gospel believing, Spirit-filled churches full of individuals who would say they know they have received the gifts we have mentioned: righteousness, eternal life, and the Spirit. There is a liberty in worship. The organ and choir has been replaced by skilful musicians. And so on. If you sense a but coming you’re right. All this is what I call Romans 1 to 5. And then a diversion avoiding Romans 6 and 7 before preaching from Romans 8 and on. Neo, I feel like I’m holding a hot potato. If I write more I’ll take too much time. It breaks my heart to think I probably won’t see you again. Like the young lion you were, keep roaring to the end, my father. And write back.

“…more like an engulfing furnace…”

Dear Samuel, Day 53. So it’s true. You’re restless. I could tell. You’ve always spoken well about your church but I’ve been missing the fire I knew was in you. And it still is. Hot potato indeed! It’s more like an engulfing furnace…if you let it! I don’t fully understand, maybe I don’t need to. But I wanted to know one thing before I die: that you are still ‘of the faith of Abraham’? And it seems you might be. What you do next will show you whether you are. Just like for me there was no choice in the end. Whether it's Spirit or word the next step is the only important step towards Canaan. At least Zebedee met Jesus once but it was John that knew Jesus. Here’s my challenge to you. Pour it all out to your father. Tell me what you’re seeing, where you are going? Just like John who wanted to be close to Jesus, I know this is your heart, not to divide the church but to honour the word. But it will cost you.

Neo, Day 69. I will try and be succinct, Neo. Thank you, once again, for the postcards. I understand now. Haran churches believe in the substitutionary sacrifice of the cross. That Jesus died for them, in their place. That He took all our sins when He died. It’s prophesied in Isaiah 53 and elsewhere how the Messiah would suffer and die for His people. He took the punishment for our sins so that we could be forgiven. You and your friends rediscovered Peter’s starting point ‘Repent, be baptised for the forgiveness of sins, and receive the gift of the Holy Spirit’, and so you and the Pentecostals went beyond forgiveness and received the Spirit. You’ve told me, for many, it was the difference between walking by the sea and swimming in it. But tell me, how many believe the cross of Christ included them? That when He died, they died also? Read Romans 6 v 3 and 6 or Galatians 2 v 20 again, Neo. I remember you preaching from Acts 19 v 2 ‘Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you believed?’ So they said to him ‘We have not even heard about the Holy Spirit’. Many believed but hadn’t received the Spirit. But it’s Paul’s question in Romans 6 that seems to be relevant now: ‘Do you not know that as many of us who were baptised into Christ Jesus were baptised into His death?’ Try asking those you know. They will flounder, Neo. Try and imagine churches springing up that believe that the sinner, as well as sin, were dealt with on the cross, And believing this as easily as you did when you were filled with the Spirit. Only space left for the stamp. Far more to say.

My Dear Samuel, Day 76. It seems I still have some strength. It also amuses me how God seems to work in parables and metaphors. Here am I dying physically and there you are telling me that I’ve already died! I know I always preached ‘died to’. You’ve made me think. I feel a little like Moses now. Up on the mountain looking over the Promised land but not allowed to enter. I’ll die here, safe in the knowledge that the next step for the people of God is in motion. How about a name change? Samuel means listened to God, which you have. But Joshua seems to fit better now. And it won’t just be you. It's never one person. God will bring all the Joshua’s together. Dear Joshua, if you haven’t packed your bags, it feels like you’ll have to. It’s time for me as well. No need for more postcards, just a holy kiss from Haran to the Joshua church.

Waiting

It’s a Tuesday, hot and humid in July

Heat soaking through from all sides

A sweltering still afternoon.

Forlorn and yellow sycamore seeds,

Autumnal before their time,

Hang listless, like me

Waiting

Waiting, in my case, for the Covid

Power-drain to be repaired

And limbs refilled with

Will and purpose

And a mind to wake up

And imagine more than

Sleep

Progress: twenty sit-ups,

Only to lie long dormant.

Later, a poet, sent to trouble me

Whose words, like piano notes,

Danced me away.

But I have insufficient battle to be

Jealous

One day, I say to my boots,

You shall walk through Welsh mud again.

I long for wild weather, howling hill winds,

Black fingerless gloves, steaming mugs,

And crouching on a frozen summit,

On Sugar Loaf with

You

One day

The Seven Postcard Series - ii

Series 1. From Abram, and replies from Haran

Series 2. From John, and replies from Zebedee

Series 3. From Samuel, and replies from Neo

An Introduction to Series 1: News of John the Baptist’s preaching had reached Galilee. Zebedee sent his sons, James and John, to find out more. Fifty days after the sons left, John writes to his father…

Dad, Day 50. It’s so hot. Surrounded by hills either side of the Jordan. The rocks are too hot to touch after midday. But still people come. James is fine. We stick close to Simon and Andrew, we’re all well. In fact, more than well. We’ve all been baptised and not sure what’s coming next. You were right to let us go, though I worry about you and the boats. We’ve met a man, also from Galilee, Jesus. Heading home soon. I miss the lake. Tell Mother she should have come and not to have worried about you so much, old man. John

John, Day 75. Got your postcard yesterday. Your mother doesn’t know whether to stick or twist! The thought of you coming home is too much for her, she’s been out this morning on the boats, swearing at the men. I can’t control her. I’ve always held that God would come for His people. It’s too important to worry about fish. Not many of my friends believe me, think I was wrong to let you go. I tell them, I didn’t ‘let’ you go…I gave you and James to God when you were born. Take that! I’m well, son. Decided not to shave until you come home. Dad x.

Dad, Day 102. We’re heading north and it’s getting cooler. Big changes Dad. Hundreds are staying with the John, the Baptist, but many have heard Jesus is in Galilee and they’re off, including us. John is sure he is the Messiah and will baptise us in the Spirit not water. What do you think? We’ve met so many different people. From all over Israel. Strange accents from Judea. Craftsmen, musicians, Pharisees, shepherds. If Jesus is in Galilee go and see him, Dad. Love to Mother.

John, Day 145. Mother and I have left for Capernaum to listen to your man, Jesus. The whole country, it seems has forgotten work. The roads are full of people, young and old. And some very sick. So many stories of miracles. Tears are in my eyes. The hope I’ve had for all these years. Can it be true? Hurry John.

Dad, Day 153. Quick note. We’ve arrived. Will send this immediately. Fishing tonight. Will be in Capernaum by the Sabbath.

John, Day 153 This is so much more than the miracles. Get here quickly. I’ve sent this card with Rufus. Hopefully, he will recognise you if you are on the road. Listen to this man, John. I bet you the synagogues won’t like it. It’s good they keep the traditions and the scriptures, but this man is bringing the scriptures to life. You need to be prepared to break ties with the synagogue, my son, if it comes to it. Love to James.

The two fathers: both gave their sons

Dad, Day 155. We’re a day away. We met Rufus. Yes, I know Dad. In my heart, I’ve left already, if they follow that’s good. But many won’t, you’re right. We’ve all seen the disapproving faces of the Pharisees who came to spy on the Baptist. I’m sure their poison will travel as fast as Jesus. So glad you and Mother have heard Jesus speak. Simon is ahead of us on the road. You’ll smell him before you hear him!! John and James.

The Seven Postcards Series i

Series 1. From Abram, and replies from Haran

Series 2. From John, and replies from Zebedee

Series 3. From Samuel, and replies from Neo

An Introduction to Series 1: Terah, Abraham’s father, had emigrated from Ur and taken the family with him intending to reach Canaan, but stopped short in Haran. God, however, had spoken to Abraham about leaving his father’s house to travel on to Canaan. The first postcard is from Abram (before his name change to Abraham) fifty days after leaving Haran.

Courier

Series 1. Abram and Terah

Dad, Day 50. It’s been bothering me. Why did you leave Ur? Anyway, I’m nearly there. There’s snow on the mountain near here and I can see the Sea. They call it Hermon. We’re high up but dropping down to the Bekaa. Lot’s a strong young man now, Haran would be proud. Beautiful Sarai sends her love. Write back. Your loving son. A. Kisses to mother.

Son, Day 75. You must tell me why you packed your bags and left, then I’ll tell you why we left Ur. I miss you. Your mother cries for you. To lose Haran was bad enough. Please try and understand. Don’t stop writing. We’re well. Business is good. The cistern is nearly complete. Nahor never stops. One for fish, the other for water. Terah, your Father.

Dad, Day 120. You know why I left, but I’m sorry Mother cries. I had to go Father. I know it was your dream to be here in Canaan, but God told me I had to leave your house to come here. I didn’t want to leave. I always thought we would reach Canaan together but it’s more that you stayed than I left. I don’t mean to be hurtful. I feel I am completing your dream. Please comfort Mother and tell her I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her. We’ve been able to settle at a place called Shechem. More next time. A.

Son, Day 150. I am not well. You must not come back. If God has told you to go to Canaan, you must stay there. Nahor sends greetings. He is happy for you and will look after Mother when I fall asleep.

I don’t know why I left Ur. When Haran died Ur died for me. But it wasn’t just grief. I had wandering feet. Our family and friends spoke against us. All apart from Grandfather Nahor. He was on my side. I did what he wanted to do before me, explore. Maybe it’s taken three generations to get to Shechem. I will die a happy man. Do not be sorry, Abram. You Mother sends her kisses. Terah, your Father.

Dad, Day 190. Your messenger came quickly. Tears stain this card. Thank you for telling me about Ur and Grandfather Nahor. It is a comfort. I feel I know myself a little better now. I cannot write any more words. My heart is full. I am the oldest now. And even if I do not inherit your wealth I have inherited your wandering feet and Grandfather’s. God’s blessings on you and Mother and brother Nahor from the trees and waters here in Shechem.

Brother, Day 250. Father died before your card arrived. He was at peace at the end. I miss you my brother. Many friends came for Father’s burial. Mother was strong. She will mourn for another month. It is to remember Haran, you leaving, and Father. She says she must, or she will be bitter. She needs that time to pour out her heart to God who has taken away her three rocks. She is looking for peace. Pray she finds it. Be strong brother. Tell Lot to get married and have a tribe. My blessings and peace. Please write. Brother Nahor.

Nahor, Day 320. Mother was always worried that I’d get here only to return. But Nahor, it’s difficult to know how to put this. When I was a child, I told you how the Lord spoke to me. Since I last wrote the Lord has appeared to me. I saw Him, Nahor. He has promised this land to my descendants. That’s why I’m here, I know that now. I told Lot what you said. I worry about him; now he’s rich he’s separated from me. Before you ask, no, Sarai is still childless, so it looks impossible to inherit the land. We press on, towards the Negev. A

It is written

John Chapter 3 - Windbreaks in Church? Part 2 of 2

John’s Chapter 3 - Part 2 of 2

The Eleventh Commandment

The Eleventh Commandment: Thou shalt not bring a wind-break to church

Part 1 explored Jesus’ vision for Nicodemus, and, by extension, for us that we must drop our rules-based attempts to please God and become wind-blown individuals, blown around by the Spirit of God; the more adventurous and less predictable life in the Kingdom of God.

Nicodemus replied: ‘How can these things be?’

Jesus continues: ‘Are you the teacher of Israel and do not know these things?’

Is this tongue-in-cheek or genuine astonishment?

Maybe a friendly put-down. Nicodemus was a man who taught others. He appears twice more in John’s gospel. In Chapter 7 he reminds the ruling council, the Sanhedrin, that Jesus should not be tried without being heard. And after the crucifixion, it is Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea who prepare Jesus’ body for burial. He had clearly sided with Jesus.

He may have taught others and yet, Jesus is pointing out, the scriptures always pointed to the life of the Spirit that was to come, through the death, resurrection, and ascension of the Messiah.

For example, in Ezekiel 36 v 26,27 ‘I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; I will take the heart of stone out of your flesh and give you a heart of flesh and I will put My Spirit within you and cause you to walk in My statutes…’

It was always there in the scriptures. Religious fervour and human efforts to obey the Law are doomed because we have ‘hearts of stone’ and our repeated failure to keep the Law, or any moral code or religious discipline, only serves to reveal the truth of the hardness of our hearts. But Ezekiel’s prophecy opens the hope that God will do the heart surgery needed, and come and live in us, so that we are empowered by His Spirit, just like Jesus.

Jesus was the forerunner. The Son. But through His death and resurrection – as he said ‘Unless a seed falls into the ground it remains alone. But if it dies it produces many seeds’ John 12 v 24. Each believer is to be – in the well-known words of C S Lewis - a ‘mini-Christ’. In technical language: the ‘only begotten Son’ (John 3 v 16) has become the ‘firstborn among many brothers and sisters’ (Rom 8 v 29)

Jesus was gently chiding Nicodemus for not knowing this. Jesus did not criticise his attempts of keeping the Law or trying to live a good life and one in reverence to God, but He did open, I like to believe, Nicodemus’ eyes to what God could do for him rather than what he could do for God.

Repentance in this context is the abandonment of trying to please God with religious observance or even trying to live a good life as an agnostic, humanist, or atheist. It is the taking down of any windbreaks and yielding to the Spirit of Jesus to do His work.

Yielding…trusting

Pastors, elders, Ministers, Vicars, Priests, leaders…must have faith in the wind of the Spirit blowing through the lives of your congregations, reminding everyone to trust in the Spirit and be ready. As Paul says ‘be filled with the Spirit’, which means go on being filled. It’s so easy to replace the spontaneous life of the Spirit with human planning and ability.

Jesus’ reply to Nicodemus ‘Are you the teacher of Israel and do not know these things?’ could equally be applied to many today: ‘Are you a Vicar, Priest, Minister, Pastor, Leader, Deacon, Worship Leader, Small Group Leader, Youth Leader and do not know these things?’

Nicodemus’ reaction seems to be thoughtful rather than to avoid its implications: it’s so easy to pretend to be offended when, in truth, all we are doing is running away. Judging from his actions later in John’s gospel he responded to Jesus’ words and took the courageous decision to leave the apparent security of his Pharisee identity and take the step to trust in Jesus’ words.

Things Fall Apart

Things Fall Apart

News from Downing Street 7th July 2022

The vultures gather

Flying in from the sunrise

Early from the west wind also

Carrying the scent

Circling now

Ready

For the prey to come

Dressed in suits, tie pins

And buttoned shirts

Serious faces crowding the cameras

Taking in the collapse

In real time

A carcass thrown

From the dark door behind

Sunlight dancing for the final time

From the blond mop

And small eyes and a sad heart speak

Weary words

‘The King is dead!’

But will the corpse occupy

The chair?

A nation waits

Holding its black and red flowers

Dark suits ready

To pay its respects

And disrespects

A legacy of too many dying

Without a hand to hold

And behind those eyes and

That dark door

Lie all the liberation from twelve yellow stars

And the howling tears

Of blue and yellow Mariupol

Of a red wall collapsing

Presiding over things falling apart.

John Chapter 3: Bring Windbreaks to Church?

The Eleventh Commandment: Thou shalt not bring a wind-break to church

Part 1 of 2

John 3v16 has become a bumper sticker and is daubed white and large on the rocks near Clifton Suspension bridge in Bristol and on some park benches near Severn Beach. And it’s a favourite of placards at sports events and demonstrations.

John’s Gospel

John 3v3 has somehow been airlifted out of Jesus’ day from the dry and dusty villages of Judea and Galilee and transported to cool California or other bible touting regions in the good ole U.S .of A.

‘For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son that whoever believes in Him should not perish but inherit eternal life’ John 3v16

‘Truly I say to you unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God’ John 3 v3

A few years ago at a dinner party, the host started a somewhat amusing rant about this and that including, in very derogatory language, a barrage of complaints lodged at the door of those unspeakable ‘born again Christians.’

It went through my devilish mind to say quietly, placing my napkin slowly down on the table and looking him straight in the eye, ‘It might interest you to know that I am a born again Christian’ and see if he would choke on his words or show me the door.

But in the interests of being British…I didn’t.

But the question remains: is there any other kind of Christian than ‘born-again Christians?’ Jesus didn’t seem to think so.

____________________________

Tempting though it is to write about the above two verses I actually want to address verse 8, in fact, the whole of the discourse between Jesus and Nicodemus the Pharisee, a man clearly impressed with Jesus, but too intimidated to address him openly during the day.

v1 There was a man of the Pharisees…who came to Jesus by night

Such a small but significant detail: by night.

He came to Him by night

He seems to present Jesus with a theological puzzle. One can imagine Jesus, perhaps staying at someone’s house, supper is over and everyone’s relaxing. Then Nicodemus knocks on the door and Jesus beckons him in. The disciples fall silent, curious to know what will transpire. They’ve seen this man hanging around before.

Little did Nicodemus know that the conversation was to have such a profound effect on John, Jesus’ closest friend and disciple, who many years later includes this conversation in his gospel.

Jesus ignores Nicodemus’ opening gambit and cuts to the chase - verse 3 as above.

Maybe I’m wrong, but I feel Nicodemus is older than Jesus. He has risked being seen finding out where Jesus is staying and coming alone. But now feeling Jesus’ welcome, after initial nerves and enjoying this opening salvo, he is expecting a long debate, the verbal jousting he is used to, banter almost, theological sparring. But in his heart, he is looking beyond the words and wanting some answers. What he hears not only changed his life but countless others through the centuries.

He replies: ‘How can a man be born again? Can he enter his mother’s womb a second time?’

You may be familiar with Jesus’ reply. It is because of the familiarity that I am writing this post. I find that many have missed another important detail, and a critical detail at that. One that lifts the whole of Christendom into a new dimension.

Jesus’ reply: ‘Truly I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of heaven…the wind blows where it wishes…you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is goes.’

Jesus is using the wind as an analogy of the Spirit of God. Just as in Genesis with the Spirit of God moving over the face of the water and Lord God walking in the cool breeze of the day.

So is everyone who is born of the Spirit

And this is where most commentators stop. Using this passage as part of teaching the biblical revelation of the Spirit of God, the Trinity, the promised Holy Spirit, and so on. It is incorporated, not without good reason, into the doctrine of the Trinity.

But Jesus’ reply was not simply information to improve Nicodemus’s grip on biblical revelation or correct his doctrine, His reply was ‘formation’. He wanted Nicodemus to know what it would be like to become a son of the kingdom once he was born again. Here are Jesus’ words:

‘So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit’

He is laying out a completely new blueprint of living to Nicodemus.

To paraphrase: ‘This is the ‘normal’ of the kingdom of God. Those that are born again of the Spirit, Nicodemus, are like the wind, you can’t tell where they’ve come from or where they’ll go next. So, unlike your life now, bound by all those rules and regulations. You’ll need to leave all that behind and have faith that the wind will blow you in this direction and then that. Look at Me. That’s what you’ll be like’.

And that’s what the church should be like.

That’s what church meetings should be like.

Those born again by the Spirit, when they arrive at the same place, maybe on a Sunday, but not exclusively, there’s no knowing what will happen. It’s a choice. Either everything can be pre-set, like Nicodemus’ world of regulations, tight liturgy, rehearsed like a formal ceremony with all the life squeezed out of it, or another journey into the unknown with a frisson of excitement in the air, wondering what the Spirit of God is bringing and in which direction He is blowing.

If this sounds scary and you’d prefer your Minister or Vicar to exert their control, well that’s a choice you will make. Whilst it’s important for elders and leaders to give oversight, one of their important tasks is to ensure that the people haven’t brought any windbreaks to church:

‘Whenever you come together each of you has a song, a teaching, a tongue, a revelation, an interpretation. Make sure everything is done to build up the body, the church.’ 1 Cor 14 v 26

This is entirely different to ‘When you attend church on Sunday, the leaders will have put the hymn numbers on a board and we will follow this liturgy so that each Sunday will be like the previous Sunday and on into eternity’

That way the Spirit of God is only allowed to speak through the preacher or in the song choices, usually by one person, the worship leader or choirmaster, depending on your tradition. Who is Lord? The Spirit of God or the Minister?

The natural reaction in all of us is to get our slide rules out, our spreadsheets, and our calculators. Our planning DNA comes to the fore. Leaders tend to be good organisers and organise they will do. It is so easy to cave into this pressure and temptation, even for those born again by the Spirit, to revert to human control…and human, soulish impersonation of the Spirit.

If you’ve tried ice skating, you’ll know what it is to cling to the side of the ice rink for dear life. But if you want to have the freedom on the ice you have to let go, be willing to fall over, look a bit strange…like a newborn baby…until you learn to move and balance in increasing orders of freedom.

Clinging on…or learn to skate?

It’s just the same for any who are born again by the Spirit of God. There are no windbreaks in the Kingdom of God.

Cubicle 2…or Navigating the 21st Century WC

For those born after 1980, WC is an acronym for Water Closet, itself a rather underused term these days and for many decades known as a loo, a toilet, the little room, rest-room, a Khasi, bog, a…well, you know.

Water Closet

I’m assuming for the sake of this post that you are male and in need of making full use of the facilities. I’ve only once used ‘the ladies’ and that was by mistake – the blobby ‘male’ ‘female’ cartoon outside the WC didn’t work for me. I escaped unscathed, wasn’t arrested, and curiously pleased that my stay hadn’t required me to read low-quality graffiti, and it smelt…different.

Back to the male urinals and cubicles.

First it seems more likely these days to have to join a queue awaiting your turn. Add to that the average length of use – which has similarly, and mysteriously, been extended – and there is a nervousness amongst the duly assembled. No-one speaks. Of course.

Time passes slowly and, finally, you’re the next one to find an open door. You hear the flushing and the shuffling inside cubicle 2 and, if you weren’t desperate before, your body seems to have taken over urging you onwards. The fella appearing from Cubicle 2 looks close to death, so you’re now very wary of Cubicle 2, but all is well.

Inside you long for a hook that isn’t hanging by one long screw so you can put you rucksack somewhere other than the floor or your lap.

And now your trouble begins.

There should be a law that demands of all citizens to leave at least a few leaves of the loo roll hanging for the next customer. Alas, things have ‘improved’ since the days when one could reach for a non-existent roll, the former resident presumably having taken it home for private use, or to throw on the football pitch, or whatever. Yes, things have improved. The rolls these days last about a millennium. So far so good. And they are security bolted into position. Only the ‘attendant’ (a term that doesn’t mean what it says – thankfully) has the on-line security code implanted on their DNA or held on a sub-cutaneous chip. However, can you find the beginning or the end of the roll? No. It’s worse than the cheapest sellotape.

No need to add anything?

This is why the average wait time for Cubicle 2 has risen to an astonishing 25 minutes. Occupants are reduced to twirling the massive inner roll clockwise then anti-clockwise several times before locating an end, but then it disappears once more. In exasperation, you consider tearing the roll and dealing with the consequences. Either way, if you’re a before and after gentleman, it all takes too much time. By the time you are ‘ready’, and lower yourself on the seat warmed by the previous occupant, your blood pressure now matches that of your treason to be there in the first place.

The minutes spent reducing the inner pressure are, as every fella knows, holy. You can commune with your Maker undisturbed. An oasis of privacy. Those are the precious 5 minutes of legitimate skiving in the working day, or savoured, away from family mayhem at home. It is a holy place to which we all retreat in times of need.

Shhhh…peace and quiet

In my house I cater for guests who need to fill those minutes with works of literature. A range of books from ‘What to do with Poo’ or Peter Cooke’s ‘Tragically I was born an Only Twin’ to Bill Bryson’s excellent book on Shakespeare is on a shelf just within reaching distance. Some have been known to occupy the bathroom for days on end. Washing-up can be avoided, chores postponed, and instead of the unmentionable noises, peels of laughter can be heard all the way to the end of the garden; I don’t know what the neighbours must think but there’s a limit to how much one can care.

Care, too, has to be taken not to lean back when one is in the sitting position. Not in my loo, I hasten to add but a 21st Century WC. Behind you is likely to be one or two black circles, buttons, recessed into the wall. If one or both are depressed whilst you are resting a noise, somewhat like a hovercraft or helicopter, builds to a crescendo as all the ‘contents’ in the loo are suddenly vacuum-pumped away. It’s best not to jump.

Your time now ended, rucksack retrieved, belt and zips checked you leave Cubicle 2 and advance to the wash basins or troughs or sinks. And now you are presented with an IQ test. Various unspoken questions arise, choking any sense of feeling at one with the civilisation you have already spent several decades trying to master. Simple questions like ‘Which is the tap?’ Or ‘Do I press this knob, or ‘twist that handle’ or just ‘stand still and wait for a miracle’? Actually, the final option can prove successful. Having blunted one’s wrist pressing the non-tap tap, a violet glow hits your open palm and, once a human hand is detected, a ration of liquid soap is dispensed onto your hand if you weren’t shocked by the light and withdrew your hand. Then water appears from another pipe and away you go. Your hands are now covered in soap and the water has stopped. Once resolved your hands are cleaned and on you go to battle with paper-towels, pull-down towelling, air-blades, up-turned air-funnels and the like. Arguments for and against the efficacy of each method to re-distribute pathogen microbes into the air cloud your mind until your hands, semi-dried, are withdrawn and you walk away, hoping that by the time you have to shake hands with someone they are reasonably dry.

How does that tap work?

The ordeal over, you move on to the nearest café to collect your thoughts and collapse behind a flat white and an almond slice.

At the café, you have time to reminisce and long for the average 1970s loo with all its imperfections but lack of mental strife.

All that was needed back in the day was the nous to nick some loo roll from Cubicle A before entering Cubicle B, to suspend your sense of smell for the foreseeable, ability to hover above the non-existent seat, and be fairly philosophical about the chances of finding a functioning flush. Any holes burnt into the side walls with cigarette lighters or pen-knives were no trouble, after all, there are various uses for toilet tissues beyond the normal. And one’s foot can be employed to keep the door closed if you’re embarrassed about being interrupted, the locks having been loosened maybe years before. The water in the sink, cold, was left on by previous occupants, occasionally flooding the floor, and soap hadn’t been invented.

Immune systems of the average 1970’s homo sapien was robust.

Five Day Trip to Calais

Day Five, Monday

The very acceptable evening meal at Le Hovercraft was, of course, digested on top of the uncooked burgers from Dunkirk…spelt more correctly as Dunkerque by Sir Gaffa in his comment. His comment using a more Anglo-Saxon term referring to his post-burger fear ‘Will I, won’t I puke?’ needs to be honoured in this final Calais chapter.

But all was well. Our robust British digestive systems had seen off any threat from le continent.

I woke up to gentle Restaurant-disapproving-rumbles coming from the other side of the room quite early, maybe 5am, and eventually took myself off for a wander along the sea-front esplanade. It was a gloriously sunny and warm start to the day, quiet, still, and deserted.

Beach huts on Calais beach

Not that I was wearing my Panama but the walk gave me time to be filled with a ‘hats off to Calais’ feeling. Whoever pushed through the redevelopment of the seafront, the town square, and general ethos has lifted Calais from its image of a pre-Christmas cheap beer and booze-infested English supermarket. Or simply a town that one passes through, and he/she deserves the Gold medal that its neighbour just up the road has forsaken.

Again, it impressed me that the whole esplanade is graffiti-free. Not one black marker pen streak, or gang postcodes, no ‘I woz here’, no hearts with arrows, no swear words with letters missing…just clean surfaces that all ages enjoy. I ambled along the whole length recording different sounds and images mainly on sub-standard videos rather than photos…well no-one was around to worry over some old codger talking to his mobile phone.

Turning around at the end the whole scene changed. Looming up behind me was a huge invading black cloud. It made for a contrasting image, the yellow sand illuminated by the early morning sun, hence the stick-man-like shadows, set against the monstrous and ominous dark cloud.

Calais beach

It was just before 7 when I returned. Not a car was moving. Not one. Does anyone go to work? Maybe the truth was that Sunday night which had been so pleasant, with everyone eating out, that the whole population had simply given a characteristic Gallic shrug ‘Work? It can wait’. Maybe we can learn a few things from our French neighbours.

Eventually, though, the chess set was packed along with all our belongings, and we were sitting in the queue at the port ready to embark on the ferry crossing back across the channel.

We ended as we had begun, tucking into cooked breakfasts, this time care of Irish Ferries, before indulging in one of our stranger habits walking round the decks of the ferry, I’m not sure how many times.

With the white cliffs of Dover approaching fast we re-entered the sanctuary of Dover Harbour and before long were driving to Canterbury and meandering through its familiar streets to take the road to Chestfield and, ultimately, Whitstable.

The White Cliffs of Dover

A quick pit stop and I was away on the return journey to Bristol feeling quite jolly; the gaffa tape still holding the visors in position.

Until the next time, it’s a wave from Sir Seagull, vowing to renew his interest in ants, cows, chess and much else thanks to Sir Gaffa.

God speed.

Five Day Trip to Calais

Day Four, Sunday Evening

Power-nap completed we re-entered the day wondering what would befall us in terms of the evening search for a restaurant in Calais town centre.

Paul, in his response to the last post mentioned the curious noises that, apparently, I make to express doubt when exploring menus or discerning how much cutlery noise would be heard in a restaurant. Strangely, I think Paul would agree, it has a striking resemblance to the cows-of-wisdom he mentioned earlier.

The acid test though is whether it works. In Dunkirk…no…less said about Dunkirk the better.

High Street, Calais

Being locals now, we sauntered along the wonderful esplanade veering inland and across the bridge dividing the harbour from the sea and into town. A few cattle noises later we arrived at the restaurant we had sampled on the first night: the glass cage in the sun. On this occasion we didn’t bother asking about the tables in the shade, entering the cage as confident returnees. But were met with a second baffling ‘Non!’ There were three waiters standing around doing…nothing actually…and many empty tables but the ‘Non!’ was firm and professional and we had to beat a retreat.

Let me just say a few words about the atmosphere in Calais. It’s good. It has that outdoor European feel. At 9pm and on. There are one or two bars you might like to avoid if you don’t own a Harley and sport a beard the Danes, or a Russian Orthodox priest would consider manly, but generally, it’s…pleasant.

Wandering down the high street with the colourful plastic strips above we ended up at Le Hovercraft. Not, you might think, the most French or the most inviting of venues. Paul, cocked his ear waiting for the usual indecipherable sound, but nothing emerged from my lips so we entered, sat down at a table, and were presented with a menu.

Le Hovercraft - Welsh?

From the photo you may begin to see why we were not far from losing it entirely once more; encore une fois.

Sir Seagull: ‘Tell me, Sir Gaffa, am I missing something?’

Sir Gaffa: eyebrows raised

Sir Seagull: ‘The Welsh. I’m not aware of their historical connection to hovercraft?’

Sir Gaffa: ‘I think you might be onto something, Seagull’

Sir Seagull: ‘And, if I’m not mistaken, the hovercraft service from Pegwell Bay to Calais…’

Sir Gaffa: ‘Ended in 1982, Sir Seagull’

Always a man of sharp attention to detail, Sir Gaffa.

And then to see the word Welsh placed conspicuously as the first word on so many of the dishes on the right-hand side of the menu was too much and some tittering followed.

The food and wine was excellent, though, and the waitress: a distinct improvement on the troubled lady of Dunkirk. Would we recommend Le Hovercraft? Oui.

Amongst all this tourist visiting Calais, Le Chatelet, Abbeville, and Dunkirk were some reminiscing of days we held in common at Swalecliffe Free Church (Baptist) during John Hosier’s tenure as Minister. Halcion days. So many came from far afield the evening services, and students from Kent University. Monthly Sunday lunches were well attended. Memorable summer trips to Dales and Downs Bible weeks. A sense of expectation during church services. We also discussed griefs over reversals in church and personal fortunes, and harder times in life. And looking ahead.

Well, looking ahead over the sea on our walk back from the town centre was remarkable. The photo may not really do it justice. The rusty post-sunset reds on the horizon contrasting with the vast dark clouds stretching from horizon to horizon was stunning. https://youtu.be/1mUUK-gfn1w

End of the final day in Calais. It’s up and away tomorrow morning.

Sunset across to Dover from Calais

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Five Day Trip to Calais

Day Four, Sunday

Dunkirk, up the coast, was billed as the main event of the day but more of that later.

Defensive lines facing each other

First was our morning coffee at Grooves and a further chess battle. My version of the twenty or so moves over the course of the next half-hour may not be a true reflection of what happened. In fact, saying ‘half-an-hour’ itself maybe entirely inaccurate, as time has a habit of standing still with minds engaged in tactical analysis, strategy, and middle-game theory (these are all terms Paul used – I’m just passing them on).

Here's my account. At the halfway stage the pieces are arranged in truly defensive Maginot lines and tension is mounting for the first of a series of exchanges. Exchanges, I must add, that I survive better than in our previous matches. I try not to look over into Paul’s right-hand corner. I have a Bishop and Queen attack and possible ‘mate’. On my right flank, things are not looking too good. But I’m only two moves from victory. I shed a bishop and, if I’m remembering correctly, a knight, but gain both of Paul’s bishops. I’m now one move from certain victory. But why isn’t Paul looking forlorn? Nor has he toppled his King as a Gentleman surely would. Bit like Boris, he continues on, defeat staring him in the face.

And then Bam. I’m checkmated. Just like that. No mercy. Defeat number three.

O dear

But to play chess with the windows down, warmth from the Sun replacing the rain of yesterday, and in a café on Calais beach is an idyllic way to kick start the day.

The sun visors holding firm we drove up the coast to Dunkirk full of images from the 2017 film and other histories filling our minds. Finding our way to the War Museum, we walked around the various rooms and watched a loop video re-telling the story of how the German army squeezed the French and British armies onto the beach at Dunkirk awaiting evacuation in the little boats and larger vessels in Operation Dynamo. It is impressive, simple, and arresting. Definitely worthwhile visiting.

Our relationship with France is so mixed. Dunkirk and then again in Normandy at the close of WWII showing, perhaps, that true entente cordial is a deeply human bond born from mutual suffering, not one that can be forged through political structures.

Walking from the museum and onto the famous beach via a beautiful pedestrian bridge curving up and over the sand dunes we met a long series of eateries pointing out onto the vast sands. Very unlike the wonderfully sparse and deserted beach at Le Chatelier,

Hungry now, we made the worst choice of our few days en France. The waitress was off-hand, plonked the menus down with a thump on our table, and walked off. Later she stood behind Paul, smoking and talking on her mobile. We ordered burgers. It took twenty-five minutes before they appeared – and they were undercooked. The waitress remained charmless and grumpy. One can only speculate why she works there. 1, maybe, out of 5. Such a contrast with yesterday’s experience in Calais.

Not only that but another restaurant boomed out incessant bass lines and drums that drowned out conversation and dominated the whole beach area.

So, how to sum up Dunkirk? Had I discovered the power socket feeding the mindlessly intrusive boom boom, and had the waitress taken the day off, Dunkirk sea-front could have received a Gold Award. On the day we were there…maybe a crumpled-tin-of-eternal-grating-medallion would have been more appropriate?

After lunch and worrying a little about food poisoning, we wandered over the sands on the beach. So beautiful. And clean. Many enjoying sunbathing, football, some in the water and so on. It’s impossible to imagine how utterly horrendous life on the beach would have been for the retreating armies between May 26th and June 4th 1940. Salutary moments.

Dunkirk - the beach in more peaceful times

The MG is not a silent and smooth drive but compared with the intrusive music (have I mentioned that before?) it was a haven of peace as we made our way back without the aid of dear Satnav…we’re officially locals now and know our way around. Mais oui!

Never before was a 4 o’clock cuppa tea more welcome…and a nap!

Five Day Trip to Calais

Day Three, Saturday (Part Two)

During many verbal jousts and much humour some serious subjects were juggled including meditation and wisdom. Paul, alias Sir Gaffa, left Secondary School with his brain intact – which is quite an achievement knowing the school he attended, and the ‘us and them’ ethos that paraded the corridors.

An evening of finding a restaurant, good food, and wisdom

Since graduating his education commenced in earnest. He is well-read and if the local library were to close he could open up his home to the simple folk of Whitstable and they would be enriched and entertained.

So we discussed meditation and wisdom:

Sir Gaffa: ‘I’ve been meditating on wisdom, Sir Seagull.’

Sir Seagull: eyebrow raised

Sir Gaffa: ‘The ant, Sir Seagull. It has no leader and yet…’

Sir Seagull: head tilted

Sir Gaffa: ‘You can learn a lot about wisdom from animals…’

Sir Seagull: ‘O?’

Sir Gaffa: ‘Take cows.’

Sir Seagull chokes on his tea and repeats ‘Cows, Sir Gaffa?’

Ants have no leader…

And so it continued. As most things do in the end, with or without the help of alcohol, things turned theological, but it was time to decamp into Calais town centre in search of food. The Airbnb host had recommended two restaurants. One, on the esplanade, received the thumbs down – the menu was quite limited and mostly fish.

By Sunday we were local yokels, but this evening we still used the car to drive into the centre and park. Employing Paul’s Google search, we trekked down this road, up that street, round that bend and found ourselves on the outskirts of the town centre, beyond the outskirts really, and staring at the Police Station. I asked an officer on his mobile outside the station where ‘X’ restaurant was, and he replied. Five minutes later we stood outside a rather beaten-up-looking establishment with one person sitting at a table.

My wisdom came into play at this point:

Sir Seagull: ‘Wise man once say if you can hear only cutlery clinking it is surely not wise to enter’

So back we went, past the policeman still on his mobile, round the bend, up the street etc and back to the town centre whereupon we entered a restaurant crowded with happy faces and conversation. Not a sound could be heard from the cutlery. We gave the various waiters and waitresses 5 stars. They were happy to struggle on in a unique French/English mix and made the whole evening enjoyable. The veal I had was exquisite.

And back to the flat to talk about the wisdom of cows and how they can communicate and cooperate, form friendships within the herd and so on.

We explored how cows and ants could teach the church a thing or two.

Plans for tomorrow’s visit to Dunkirk were mentioned as the dying embers of the day spluttered to a halt and healthy snoring took their place.

Five Day Trip to Calais

 Day Three, Saturday (Part One)

Calais to Le Chatelet

The sliding window-door from the studio flat led directly onto a lawn approximately a cricket pitch length to the locked gate leading onto the impressive, new, and completely graffiti-free Calais esplanade which runs for about a mile or so south of the docks.

First stop, Groove.

Worry not, Gaffa and I did not. Groove is a rather fine café on the beach between the esplanade and the numerous beach huts scattered over the sands. The staff were very patient; I took about 15 minutes to order deux Cappuccinos in my best French, which they then translated into English.

The side windows are lowered by remote control, so, one minute you are sitting quite relaxed chatting away and the next the froth on your Cappuccino is flying across the room along with your Panama.

This occasioned the first of numerous conversations about scales of measurement. Inspired by the sudden blasts through the open window, I began to wonder whether, in a restaurant setting, a more suitable wind scale than the traditional Beaufort could be based on cherry tomatoes and how they roll under provocation from a stiff Easterly. Menus could be marked with a number of cherry tomatoes depending on the strength of the wind, or the lettuce scale for zephyrs.

Flights of fancy occupied our minds until we set off for our first journey in the MG, to find Le Chatelet.

I’m attempting to write a novel set in 1799 involving a group of English and French spies a number of whom land in a cove in Le Chatelet. The extensive research I had carried out involved a Google map of France south of Calais until a small village appeared. No pictures, just imagination. Well, blow me down, after a lovely drive through virtually car-free countryside we staggered across sand dunes and onto a glorious sandy beach stretching as far as the eye could see in either direction. And there was the cove. Almost exactly as I had imagined it.

Le Chatelet

The beach was lovely.

Very few people. Further along, a huge, abandoned truck with no clue how it had arrived, or why it was there. One or two sunbathers, one runner, a group of hikers with ski poles (Why?), and that was it. Perfect. And it was warm and sunny. A small cage marked off four beautiful Gravelot eggs laid in the sand.

Abandoned truck, Le Chatelet

Relaxed now, Gaffa set about on his final solution for the sun visors as we drove further south to Abbeville – and into steady rain.

Whereas Le Chatelet was simple, remote, and a joy, Abbeville was a mystery and rather strange. It must have taken about half an hour to find the Centre-Ville; signposts took us up derelict and shabby back streets and poorly surfaced roads. Eventually, we parked across the fast-flowing river, La Somme, and headed into the bright lights of the town. The first café, with customary chairs and tables outside, was open. No-one serving. Rien. Next shop, the same. It was as if they had all been whisked away by aliens. Eventually, we found a café and sat outside, it had stopped raining and there was a table with dry chairs.

For some reason, the earlier discussion about tomatoes and lettuce leaves came back to bite us. Maybe it was the strange atmosphere in Abbeville, or perhaps the owner who stood in the entrance (outside) and smoked his cigarette about two feet from Paul’s side of the table. It’s difficult to pin down ‘reason’ when reason departs abandoning us to fitting with uncontrollable laughter, tears rolling down our cheeks. For a long time. And just when you think you’ve recovered another seizure takes hold.

We rallied and enjoyed looking round the vast church, almost cathedral size.

Abbeville

Then over to L’Hotel de Ville to find the public toilet. We were directed ‘Là’ with some pointing and descended below street level into the loos. In a corner sat a lady in a ticket-office-like booth. Initially, I thought we would have to pay for the privilege; that was why she was there. But no. I have no idea why the booth was there or what she was there for!! As I say, Abbeville, undeniably, was strange.

The rain had re-started.

In the town square is a very pleasant fountain. Four jets of water shoot on and off fairly randomly. Could one judge when they died down sufficiently to walk through the middle without getting deluged? Only one way to find out!

The drive back to Calais, a nice cuppa tea, and sanity restored was immensely joyful not only for the prospect of a cuppa, but also due to the latest attempt to hold the visors in place with gaffa tape. It held.

Love Wreck

Phase 1 The Wrecker

My vessel is cracked and

My defences lie shattered

Inside it’s all splinters.

Invaded I can’t…flow

Debris is everywhere.

Hit by Love

I can no longer hide

No longer hide

Phase 2 The Squatter

But when the wrecker comes

With forgiveness and

Demolishing grace

Then, from the ashes,

New houses arise.

He moves in:

No external life-coach

He

Phase 3 The Landlord

Few know the secret

Secret life

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Five Day Trip to Calais

Day Two - Whistable to Dover to Calais

A Five-Day trip to Calais

Day Two, Friday

An early exit was required to avoid the potential ignominy of missing the 11 o’clock Irish Ferries departure from Dover. Actually, avoiding ignominy was not our highest priority – finding a decent café serving a Full English was more on our minds and Sunrise Café overlooking the harbour did the trick.

But, like almost everything on this trip, the simple pleasure of a quiet breakfast with strong coffee and bacon on toast was transformed into a memorable few minutes of high drama as a young man, also enjoying breakfast, took it upon himself to explode in anger and turn the air a deep deep blue. He was a complete opposite of John Cleese. Short, wiry and lacking the strange finesse of a Cleese car-birching rant – this man’s every other word was an F-bomb.

A fitting start to the day which made a few days across the water in France seem all the more attractive.

On the journey from Whitstable to Dover it became apparent that the gaffa tape and small sections of Velcro I’d brought along were not keeping the sun visors in position. This became Paul’s (alias Sir Gaffa) mission to solve. Meanwhile, any sizeable bump in the road caused the visors to drop down in unison. My (alias Sir Seagull Scab) gaffa obsession was more with the unfortunate gap between the rear window and its housing knowing that the forecast for Saturday was rain, rain, and more rain.

Once in Calais after a very smooth crossing, we were directed about 500km around the outskirts before finally arriving at the block of flats that was to be home for the next few days.

And then into town to find a couple of refreshing beers.

It’s only when living in close quarters to someone that you learn about their likes and dislikes, hopes, dreams, fears…and unexpected commonalities. The apparent unrehearsed need to wear straw Panama hats is the first visual oddity a casual observer might notice. No-one else was. Where we differed was on ice creams and soft drinks. Sir Gaffa does like bright colours.

That left the evening meal.

Whilst Paul was seeking shade having forgotten his Panama, I was checking the level of wildlife aggression from the town square seagull population. We ended up corralled into a very pleasant glass-bounded outside area. There were tables in the shade but for some inexplicable reason, the waitress said ‘Non’ and Gaffa had to endure the warmth of the setting sun.

End of the first day. I tried not to fiddle with my itching scab whilst Paul was still muttering about his plans to solve the sun-visor problem on our journey south planned for the morrow.

I should close by acknowledging that in between the events of the day we began a series of thematic conversations: scales of measurements, the paucity of our French, football - specifically Leeds Utd and Portsmouth FC, chess, theology, double doors, poetry, counselling and philosophy, all things Welsh, physical decay and far more.

Sleep came quickly.

Five Day Trip to Calais

Not the traditional start of an expedition to France

Day One, Thursday

 I don’t know anyone who has slipped across to Calais from Dover on the ferry to actually stay in Calais.

 It appears that opinion is divided on the usual purpose for a Dover-Calais crossing three ways (1) Pre-Christmas cheap booze from the local Hypermarché (2) Driving to somewhere more interesting (3) embarked on the ferry by mistake.

 Think again!

 Here’s how the adventure started…

 Leaving Bristol for Whitstable

 There was a dual reason for stopping in Whitstable. My grandparents’ grave is at St John’s, Swalecliffe, and I fancied going to inspect the grave and maybe sit there and commune with God in the late afternoon sun.

 Before setting off I discovered that the passenger side front tyre had a a slow leak – approximately 2 lbs per square inch (a wonderful scale) per day. So, the first decision of the day was to take the racing green MG (F) 1993 to the Ron Costello’s.

 The photo tells you everything you need to know.

 Tyre fixed for a paltry £15.00 I motored up the M32 and along the M4/M25/M26/M20 and M20 before entering the feared Thanet Way and descending via Tesco’s to purchase flowers, and strawberries and cream, to Paul and Ruth’s.

 Climbing in and out of the MG is never easy but when one has a bad back and severe bursitis in both shoulders it is imperative not to laugh as this will only inflame one or both conditions…but the exit/entrance is not as swift as it could be.

 A cuppa tea with Paul and Ruth and daughter Stacey, the first of three defeats on the chess board with Paul, and a fine shepherd’s pie, I drove down to sleepy St John’s, Swalecliffe not far from the sea. Whilst walking through the graveyard to find my grandparents’ grave I was attacked by three large seagulls swooping and screeching just above my head. On the final bombing raid, one of these ecclesiastical creatures thumped into my head, knocking my sunglasses off and digging its claws into my scalp, leaving me with cuts and bruises and a lumpy scab!

The vicious seagull graveyard guard, St John’s Swalecliffe

I pressed on past the killing zone to the grave but couldn’t really settle with the close attention of the birds making their feelings known: I was an invader that needed to be repelled.

 As communing with God really was not possible, I made my way back to Paul and Ruth’s for tea and sympathy.

 And sleep. It’s up early tomorrow and off to Dover.

Passover, Pentecost, Tabernacles – foundations of the Christian faith

Passover = Pesach

Pentecost = Shavuot

Tabernacles = Sukkot

There were, in the Old Testament, three feasts of Israel that men were commanded to attend:

‘Three times you shall keep a feast to Me in the year: 

You shall keep the Feast of Unleavened Bread (Passover) you shall eat unleavened bread seven days, as I commanded you, at the time appointed in the month of Abib, for in it you came out of Egypt; none shall appear before Me empty; 

 and the Feast of Harvest (Pentecost), the first fruits of your labours which you have sown in the field;

 and the Feast of Ingathering (Tabernacles) at the end of the year, when you have gathered in the fruit of your labours from the field. 

Three times in the year all your males shall appear before the Lord God.’   Exodus 23 v 14-17

Preamble

The temple, and before that Moses’ tabernacle (tent), and the entire Old Testament sacrificial system were ‘shadows’ of the reality fulfilled in the New Testament through Christ:

‘Priests offer the gifts according to the Law and serve a copy and shadow of the heavenly as Moses was instructed when he was about to make the tabernacle. For He said ‘See that you make all things according to the pattern shown you on the mountain’…copies of things in heaven…for Christ has not entered holy places made with hands, copies of the true, but into heaven itself…Christ was offered once to bear the sins of many’ Hebrews 8 v 4 ff

If we reduce the teaching of the New Testament and the gospel to ‘having faith in Christ’ we impoverish our congregations.

We often need to be reminded that the term ‘Christ’ or ‘Messiah’ refers to the anointing of Jesus with the Holy Spirit. In the Old Testament only prophets, priests, and kings were anointed with the Holy Spirit. Sometimes oil was used to symbolise the anointing, such as when Samuel anointed David to be King, but Jesus as Messiah, the Christ, was anointed by the Holy Spirit to be Prophet, Priest, and King…King of Israel.

We place our faith in Christ because he fulfilled each of the three feasts which served as shadows and copies of the reality that was Christ. 

Passover

Passover (Pesach), was originally instituted to celebrate the Exodus from Egypt when Israelites daubed the blood of a lamb on their doors to ensure that the destroying angel sent by God would ‘pass over’ their house and the people inside. This is fulfilled in Christ, shedding His blood on the cross, as the lamb of God. Through His sacrifice, we are forgiven.

If escaping from Egypt for the Jews with Moses and escaping sin through Christ is important it is equally important to remember the purpose was not only escape ‘from’ Egypt under Moses but escape ‘to’ the Promised Land under Joshua. Equally, in the church, we must not only rejoice in our redemption ‘from’ sin, but also enter into our promised land, Christ Himself. We need faith to leave, and faith to enter in. The Israelites had to overcome many obstacles: Pharoah’s opposition, trials in the desert, and finally the battle at Jericho to enter in, and so will we. At heart, though, it was always a matter of faith for the Israelites, that God could do both, release them from Egypt and plant them in a new land. St Paul wrote ‘For indeed Christ, our Passover, was sacrificed for us’ 1 Cor 5 v 7. It is because of Him that we are redeemed from sin and because of Him that we can enter into our new identity, and new life, in Christ.

Pentecost

Pentecost (Shavuot) occurred fifty days after Passover. Pentecost means fifty. On the day of Pentecost after Passover, when Jesus was crucified, the Holy Spirit was poured out from on High. Jesus spoke to the disciples after the Resurrection:

‘John baptised with water but you shall be baptised with the Holy Spirit…you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you’  Acts 1 v 5,8

‘When the day of Pentecost had fully come…they were filled with the Holy Spirit’  Acts 2 v 4

In the Old Testament, Pentecost was celebrated to give thanks to God for the firstfruits of the harvest. Those who believed and received the gift of the Spirit were the firstfruits of the sacrifice of Christ on the cross.

Also, the Law was given to Moses on this day, but in the New Testament, the Spirit was poured out.

Just as each believer needs to know they are forgiven through the cross and placed ‘in Christ’, each believer must be baptised in the Spirit. This is Christianity, it is not an optional extra, for Pentecostals or Charismatics. It is the fulfilment of the feast of Pentecost. The church is not to be a human organisation managed and led by men, it is a living body led by the Spirit with each ‘member’ of the body baptised in the Spirit so that every time believers gather together the gathering is led by the Spirit who pours out His gifts as He chooses.

Tabernacles

Tabernacles (Sukkot)

‘And you shall take for yourselves on the first day the…branches of palm trees, the boughs of leafy trees…You shall dwell in booths for seven days…that your generations may know that I made the children of Israel dwell in booths/tabernacles/tents when I brought them out of the land of Egypt’   Leviticus 23 v 40

When Moses made the tabernacle according to the pattern God showed him, it was for God to dwell in. The Israelites lived in tents during their journey in the desert to the Promised Land, as did God. The tabernacle of the Lord was sited outside the camp and Moses would go in to meet with the Lord:

‘When Moses entered the tabernacle…the Lord spoke to Moses, face to face, as a man speaks to his friend’ Exodus 33 v 9-11

Just as Jesus was the true Passover Lamb, the Lamb of God, and poured out the Holy Spirit from heaven at Pentecost, so He was the fulfilment of Sukkot, the Feast of Tabernacles:

‘And the Word made flesh and tabernacled among us’  John 1 v 14

The Greek for ‘tabernacles’ is usually translated as ‘dwelt’, but the Greek word means ‘pitched His tent’ i.e. And Jesus spoke to His heavenly Father as a man speaks with His friend.

The fulfilment is not confined simply to Christ. Just as the sacrifice of Christ on the cross as the Lamb of God enables everyone to be ‘saved’ from the judgement of God, and to know that salvation, so the fulfilment of Tabernacles is for the church as well as Jesus because the church is in Him, in Christ.

‘Do you not know you are the temple of God and the Spirit tabernacles (dwells) in you?’ 1 Cor 3v16

‘Do you not know your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you…’ 1 Cor 6 v 19

‘You are the temple of the living God’  2 Cor 6 v 16

The Feast of Tabernacles as recorded in John’s gospel in chapter 7 is another occasion when Jesus was in Jerusalem:

‘The Feast of Tabernacles was at hand…about the middle of the feast Jesus went up to the Temple and taught…on the last day of the feast, that great day of the feast, Jesus stood and cried out, ‘If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink…out of his heart will flow streams of living water’. This He spoke concerning the Spirit, whom those who believed would receive, for the Holy Spirit was not yet given.’   John 7 v 2 ff

In the desert the Israelites had no water and no source of food; this was supernaturally provided; manna for food each morning and water coming from a rock. This is now fulfilled in the New Testament with the streams of living water coming from the seemingly most unlikely place – the hearts of those who believe in Him, Jews and Gentiles.

Churches are the ‘ekklesia’ or the called-out ones who are ‘living stones’, as Peter calls them, or ‘temples of the living God’ as Paul describes us.

Interestingly, Jews celebrate Sukkot (Tabernacles) today by arranging palm branches or similar as a loose-fitting roof as they gather underneath. The story of their exodus from slavery in Egypt and their journey through the wilderness using these temporary structures is retold.

For Christians, this symbolises our exodus from the slavery of sin and our pilgrimage or sojourning in this world. And our rooves, individually and as churches, should not be permanent hard structures but open enough to the heavens, to heaven in fact. Open to heaven in the sense that we are the temple now, where God is present.

All three feasts are permanently fulfilled in us:

Redemption from the slavery of sin - Passover

Open to the baptism of the Spirit - Pentecost

Completely dependent on God as our life – Tabernacles

Churches today tend to reflect one or two of these feast fulfilments rather than all three simultaneously.

In very approximate terms Evangelical churches are secure in preaching, teaching, and believing Jesus as the Passover Lamb of God. They know and preach salvation from sin, that our sins are forgiven, but not Pentecost. Until the minister or others within an Evangelical church see that Pentecost opens the way for the baptism in the Spirit, and experiences it, the church will be left with a Passover-only foundation.

Pentecostal and Charismatic churches (of any denomination and none) will preach Passover and Pentecost: forgiveness, relationship with God restored, and the baptism of the Spirit. But how many preach Tabernacles? A cursory examination of a few commentaries that attempt to tackle the relevance of Tabernacles to the church offset it to after the return of the Messiah and the winding up of this age (Rev 21 v 3). Whilst all three feasts inevitably have an eternal dimension that finds their greatest fulfilment in the age to come, Tabernacles, just as with Passover and Pentecost, has a Now dimension that is often not preached.

But Tabernacles? Does your church meet under a partially open roof? In other words, do your leaders facilitate openness to the Spirit of God when you meet? Or is the meeting pre-organised? The songs, the notices, the teaching, prayers and so on. Some churches have a written liturgy others have an unwritten liturgy…but you can set your watch by when the children are allowed to go to Sunday school.

A church that has all three working together simultaneously and seamlessly knows it is the body of Christ and its meetings are not only spontaneous but scriptural:

‘Whenever you meet together, each of you has a song, a teaching, a tongue, a revelation, an interpretation, let all things be done for edification’ 1 Cor 14 v 26

If the leadership in a church is not permitting this to be the norm something is wrong. There is no room for human control in the church, there is one head of the church, Jesus. Just as our heads coordinate our body’s functions so Jesus will coordinate His body, the body of Christ.

The extent to which each feast is fulfilled in our understanding and experience will be the extent to which we can minister the life of the Spirit to others. A believer may have been appointed as a Vicar, Pastor, Minister, homegroup leader, worship leader, Sunday school, or youth leader, but he or she can only minister what they have received from heaven.

If a church congregation is caught up in believing all three feasts and how they are fulfilled in Christ and in then in them, they are unlikely to want to appoint one person to take up an overall leadership role – this is reserved for Jesus Christ. In Acts, the apostles appointed elders, plural, never just one elder.

Elders, then, are responsible for teaching the congregation and encouraging growth toward spiritual maturity, laying the foundation of the three feasts, amongst other tasks. They will also be open to the ministry of prophets, teachers, evangelists, or visiting apostles – see the account of the church at Antioch in Acts 13. All meetings will be open to the leading of the Spirit because Jesus is head of the body. Elders’ meetings, diaconates, leaders’ meetings, home group meetings, musicians and worship meetings, pastoral…and so on, none are business meetings in the sense that they are led by a chairman through a predetermined agenda. The agenda is not set by man. All meetings, the scripture says ‘whenever you meet’ are transformed.  

As in the other churches in Acts, there is no mention of one leader or of human decision-making processes at play in Antioch: ‘As they ministered to the Lord and fasted, the Holy Spirit said, “Now separate to Me Barnabas and Saul for the work I have called them’’ ’ Acts 13 v 1,2

If you are a Christian living in Europe or another Western country, and reading this, you are so because of this meeting in Antioch; it was Paul and Barnabas who carried the gospel around the Mediterranean to Rome, to Greece, possibly to Spain, and beyond. The origins of Christianity in Europe lie in this one meeting and the simple phrase ‘as they ministered to the Lord the Holy Spirit said…’ not as the Vicar held a strategy meeting with his churchwardens, or the Baptist minister worked through a list of projects with the diaconate, or the Pentecostal Pastor with the elders. All meetings had rooves open to heaven where everybody gathered knew that God now dwells (tabernacles) with His people and He has the pre-eminent place.

I think we’d all agree that the meeting as described in Acts 13 that led to Paul and Barnabas being appointed as apostles (apostles meaning ‘sent ones’) was a successful meeting!

We need to preach all three feasts to have a clear foundation – the ‘Christianity’ that will flow from such churches will be just like having Jesus in town…because that is precisely what it is.

Book Review: The Magnificent Moustache & Other Stories

When I read through the five stories, I asked myself ‘Would I have read these to my children when they were younger?’ And the answer is a resounding Yes!

Many of the very old children’s stories allow the child to escape into worlds unlike their own such as Cinderella meeting and marrying a Prince, these stories also. The setting for two of the stories, Tea’s the Thing, and The King and i, is in the Royal Family and The Magnificent Moustache, for example, has a 7th Viscount and Lords and Ladies as principal characters. And we meet a Welsh Dragon in the final tale.

Each story contains an entertaining mix of humour, tension, and happy resolution – perfect for a bedtime story – and, for the intended age range, could be read by the child in one sitting. The language is accessible but also introduces the reader to a few unfamiliar words, such as indiscriminately, elixir, and propagating so the collection doesn’t play too safe.

The imaginative content of each story is matched by vivid descriptions, but you never feel bogged down in unnecessary detail, each tale is told at an engaging pace which is maintained from cover to cover.

Like all good stories, there are important messages tucked away as the plots unfold. Whether it’s that we can escape ruts we fall into, gently ridicule the ridiculousness of life, make a fresh start after a tragedy, or overcome bad habits, each story conveys its core moral purpose very well without being preachy.

If I was to pick a favourite scene it would be the Queen’s butler, Jeffries, as he ‘bowed and exited as calmly as he could. Once out of the room, he sprinted back along the corridor and slid down the bannisters at alarming speed – a thing he hadn’t contemplated for over twenty years – saving every spare second in order to see how the tea blending experiment was going in the kitchen.’

In one paragraph everything is turned upside-down. The adult becomes a child, sprinting and sliding down the banisters. The cool-headed butler is flustered and panicking, and the Royal kitchen is given over entirely on a fruitless mission to blend a perfect cup of tea for Her Majesty rather than preparing a feast. Finally, an unpredictable twist saves the day, leaving the Queen as unruffled as all Queens should be. Brilliant.

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The Magnificent Moustache and other stories

Available as an e-book or as a paperback.

Purchase on Amazon or order at all good bookshops.

Signed copies are available from Jenny Sanders directly for £9 +p&p and you can message her via her social media accounts below:

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Also, please visit Jenny’s blog

Dancing Through Chaos

Baptism – beyond the controversy Part IV

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In our last of four blogs on Baptism - getting beyond the controversy we continue with Part IV: ‘By one Spirit we were all baptised into one body’ 1 Cor 12 v 12. The gospel repairs the broken relationship between man and God…we are reconciled not just with God but with each other…if we allow the Spirit to baptise us into one body. Is this more difficult for us in the West which prides itself on the freedom of the individual? 
Click here to read Part III

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Baptism into one body

1 Cor 12 v 12 ‘By one Spirit we were all baptised into one body’

So far, we have seen that the New Testament teaches that believers are those that have been baptised into Christ Jesus (Rom 6v3/Gal 3v26). Then we have looked at how Jesus baptises us in the Holy Spirit (Acts 1 and 2), and now, how the Holy Spirit baptises us into one body, the body of Christ.

None of these ‘baptisms’ involve any water!

We have been so taken up with the controversy over infant baptism v believers baptism that it takes a jolt to even realise what the New Testament teaches about being baptised into Christ Jesus, or the baptism in the Spirit, and now, in this post, baptism into a body.

If baptism into Christ and the baptism of the Spirit is an individual event, this baptism is not.

In this baptism, the one doing the baptism is the Holy Spirit. The person being baptised is the believer. But it’s the end of any notion of independence. There are no lone-rangers in the church. Or at least there shouldn’t be! Once we have ‘seen’ this all our attempts to make our Christianity a private matter are demolished.

The church is not a building. That much we probably know. Nor is it simply an assembly of believers in one place; that’s closer, but not what the scriptures tell us. Nor is it the ‘body of Christ on Earth’ as if the church is disconnected from its Head, who is in heaven.

Whilst the word ‘church’ borrows from Greek democracy where citizens are called out, ‘ekklesia’, to assemble together, it has a richer meaning than this.

The key passage is 1 Corinthians chapter 12. Verse 13:

‘As the body is one and has many members…so also Christ, for by One Spirit we were all baptised into one body’

When we think of our own bodies, we know that the whole body is made up of many cells, tissues, and organs, all working together to make the whole organism function spontaneously. Each cell is alive and yet alive with who’s life? There is only one life, it is the life of the whole organism, the whole person.

The cells in my big toe on my right foot cannot boast ‘I’m alive with my own life’ as if they’re acting independently to the whole organism. The truth is they are as much ‘John Stevens’ as the rest of me. So it is with each believer. Our life is His life. I am no longer independent from Christ and no longer independent from other believers.

Where does the cell in my right toe derive its supply? And its role in the body? The answer is from the other cells around it. Life flows around the body spontaneously. How do my skin cells know what to do? Or my kidney cells?

What about in the body of Christ? Some do miracles, some speak in tongues, some prophesy, some teach, some are prophets, some teachers and so on.

But it doesn’t work unless we are willing to lose our independence. For many of us, particularly in the West, with its emphasis on individual liberty, and independence as a mark of freedom, we can end up resisting the Holy Spirit. We struggle to let the Spirit lead us INTO the truth. We may see it as an intellectual or even a prophetic truth, happy to leave it there, but are we willing to allow the Holy Spirit to lead us into the truth – and the truth into us?

Are our hearts open? Open to our fellow believers? Open to God? Are our hearts places like Jesus saw they should be, places of rivers of living water, flowing from believer to believer.

At the start of Jesus’ ministry, he called twelve individuals. By the end, they had been formed into a body.

Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, to the church in Corinth, was corrective. There had been some moral failings in the congregation, and the church’s unity was under threat. The purpose of the letter was to encourage the church to return to normal, as one body, not fragment, and to allow the Spirit to work among them:

‘Whenever you come together, each of you has a psalm, has a teaching, has a tongue, has a revelation, has an interpretation, let all things be done for edification…’   14 v 26

He didn’t say whenever you come together, don’t worry, the pastor will decide which hymns we’ll sing, the pastor will preach the word, the pastor will…that is the experience in many churches – just substitute Vicar or Priest or Minister, if ‘Pastor’ isn’t the title you give your church leader. Or, if you want to shift church cultures slightly: ‘Don’t worry, the worship leader will decide which songs are sung and how many times, the preacher will preach on the pre-set passage of Scripture, the…

It’s not that leaders in a congregation; elders, pastors, or teachers, the Vicar even, have no role, and are of no importance, but it is their prime function to facilitate the life of the body, the life of the Spirit, not to be the substitute for the Holy Spirit. If it is only one man functioning, the rest of the congregation cannot, they become little more than spectators locked away in permanent infancy, perpetually needing feeding rather than growing, participating, and functioning as ministering parts of the body.

The apostle Peter put it like this:

‘Coming to Him as to a living stone…you also, as living stones, are being built into a spiritual house…’ 1 Peter 2 v 4,5

Each believer is a ‘living stone’ alive with the life of the Spirit.

Paul, in writing 1 Corinthians did not impose greater ‘control’ from the leadership, his main task was to remind the Corinthians that they had been baptised by the Spirit into one body and that they needed to function like human bodies function: full of spontaneous life, of different gifts and so on.

The Holy Spirit baptising us into one body in our experience, not just in theory, challenges our pride, ambitions, shyness, and all our fleshly desires to do things or not do things on our terms! If you’re an organiser, and an effective leader by nature, you may need to die to that ability and learn to be led by the Spirit. If you’re the type of person that reacts to every need by wanting to help and inspire others to do the same – you will need to die to that and learn to know when the Spirit is prompting, when to act, and who to involve. If you’re a teacher-type, quite cerebral, and have a love of doctrine and ideas, you may need to die to that and learn to be more spontaneous in the Spirit. And if you’re an artistic type and full of imagination and creativity, you may need to die to that and do what the Spirit is telling you to do.

This is perhaps the hardest baptism. Or is it just me? If you read the gospels with fresh eyes you’ll see just what a difficult job Jesus had with the twelve…and that’s before you get to their mothers! It’s all there: self-advancement, self-protection, self-confidence. It all had to die. And be replaced with confidence, or faith, in the Spirit of Jesus to reproduce the life of Christ in the body.

The apostles found it hard to maintain unity. Paul fell out with Barnabas and with Peter. Peter struggled with James. John was banned from one church. It’s no surprise we struggle and fail. Like the Corinthians, we need to return at times to the New Testament normal. The NT indicates that Paul and Barnabus were reconciled in the end. Peter, it seems, accepted Paul’s criticisms.

‘Normal’, in NT terms, is handing over control once more to the Holy Spirit, the One who sheds abroad in our hearts the love of God (Romans 5). That’s the starting point for us to re-open our hearts to one another, get the fire burning, and for our meetings, and everyday life, to be crackling and burning with the presence of the Holy Spirit and fire.

One final point. This is as much true if you’re a member of a church that meets in one room or part of a church of thousands. The question is: when you meet are you a functioning body, with the gifts of the Spirit freely distributed amongst you, or has that life of the Spirit been excluded from the congregation? If so, someone needs to press ‘Reset’.