True freedom

True freedom

True freedom is found by living in your peace.

Do not leave me to my own devices

Or I will become a slave to my weaknesses,

Imprisoned by the smallness of my soul

And the poverty of my vision.

Bend me to your will,

For only then will I find liberty to live my life to the full.

People mock me that I cannot stand on my own two feet,

That I am forced to obey you rather than being free to express myself.

But wisdom is often counter-intuitive.

In your company I attempt more than I would ever dare alone;

In giving my attention to what you desire, all that is good and pure and lovely in me flowers,

While it is only the unworthy that withers away.

How I wish that I was better trained by your hand.

For the truth is that I am such a slow learner,

So keen to kick back against you and go my own way.

It is only your patient, gracious love that has borne with me

And so allow me to bear fruit – fruit that brings gladness to the soul.

True freedom is a great mystery.

It’s best found in service, in sacrificial love, in self-giving.

If I demand freedom to fully express myself, I am likely to make a fool of myself or hurt others,

But guided, directed, supported by you

I find such joy and peace and love

As to heal all wounds and set me soaring

While avoiding that harm which gloats at expressing myself at another’s expense.

Let me always have your freedom, Lord, and not that which I take for myself.

The importance of being a miserable sinner! Part 3

The importance of being a miserable sinner!

Part 3: The call to live up to a standard

Society’s current difficulties partly arise because of the identity politics movements’ insistence that it is the categories of type of person that count rather than individual attributes of the person. So, against a historical backdrop of women, black people or gay people being deemed not acceptable, it is quite right to say, “This is who I am: I am black or female or gay and that is fine!”. However, in a just society, that should always have been taken for granted. It is just the start of the process. As a Christian, I am not particularly interested in the fact you’re gay or black or female, what I want to know is: “What are you like as a person?”. Are you kind or selfish, gentle or aggressive, a person of integrity or not?

Then, modern ideologies’ weakness is exacerbated by rejecting the concept of a standard to live up to, in order to justify that however I happen to be, must be right. I think this is one source of the spirit of our age, which is instant outrage at any challenge to the individual that there is something not right about what they do. If it is my human right to be myself, then any criticism of me at all is deemed to be an infringement of those rights. And, within the law, we do indeed have the human right to be exactly me. We do not have to be good people, nor altruistic, unselfish, compassionate – we just have to avoid breaking the law. The difference is that the Christian wants more than this. Of course, many secular people want more too. The point of contention seems to be the conflict between those who call people to live up to a standard of goodness and those who want to be free of all standards.

Come to me

Come to me

Let me rest my head on your shoulder;

I find peace in your presence.

I was in turmoil, floundering in confusion

Till I heard your call.

You bid me come to you, and I ran joyfully.

You asked me no questions; just invited me to follow you.

“Walk with me,” you said.

When I stumbled or strayed you corrected me, “No, not like that”,

And taking my hands like a dance partner showed me the way,

“Keep in step with me. Keep up with me. That’s right: like this”.

And so I dance, my whole life a dance – in your embrace.

Thank you for not leaving me by myself.

Thank you for calling me to a higher purpose,

To a deeper, richer way of life.

Thank you for humbling me, for teaching me to let go of my ego.

Thank you for being so patient when I am so unwilling to do this.

Thank you for opening my eyes;

I would barely have known what life is without you.

Most of all, thank you for loving me.

I only love because you first loved me, and showed me how to do it.

You have taught me – sorry, you are still teaching me – how to be still,

How to empty myself to make more room for you.

You have taught me to yearn for more.

And, as often as I open my heart and mind to you,

You pour your gifts into my life.

I am more than I could ever be by responding to your call.

The importance of being a miserable sinner! Part 2

The importance of being a miserable sinner!

Part 2: The modern refusal to accept any criticism

The modern ideology embraced by many people is very different.

The emphasis seems to be on an assertion that I am completely alright as I am. Whatever I happen to be, then that is how I am meant to be; it is 100% acceptable, and anyone who dares to criticise anything about me is condemned. There is a terrible brittleness in this – a fragility, a lack of confidence, a fear that any challenge will cause me to collapse. It seems to reject the idea that I can improve as a person, or that I have the resilience to cope with, and respond positively to, criticism. It also seems to reject the idea that there may be things about myself with which I am not happy and which I want to change. We can see the positives lurking in the background – just as we understand the message behind the perfume advert: each of us does indeed have the human right to be exactly me. We do not have to conform to how anyone else says we should be, or submit to being erased if we differ from the consensus. However, modern ideologies have distorted this positive message into an arrogant and self-righteous assertion that whatever I want to do is beyond reproach. This is a recipe for division and coercion, not least because people will want to do contradictory things, so if we demand that everyone must accept what anyone wants to do we cannot please everyone and conflict must result. Society is losing its ability to debate and learn from each other. Instead, different camps polarise and hurl insults at each other. The Christian emphasis on being a loved sinner allows us to acknowledge our faults, see the good in others – and adopt that goodness as our own – without regarding that as an admission of failure or defeat.

Humility before God

Humility before God

To stand before you is a terrible thing,

Even though I long to be in your presence.

On those rare moments when we feel you are not veiling yourself to protect us,

Awe becomes trembling, edging on the verge of terror.

We do not really have words for it, so we say we are afraid,

But this is not sufficient.

You are just too much for us;

All our fuses blow

And we are exposed before your gaze,

So utterly worthless in comparison.

Yet fear does not tumble into terror

For we are lifted up by our adoration for you.

Held in exquisite tension between fear and love

We acknowledge you to be Lord

And in that we are fulfilled.

We have nothing to say about ourselves,

Nothing that we can offer you

Except to admit our unworthiness,

Even while elation soars through our souls

That we should be here with you.

Finding our thoughts, we babble our confession,

Blurt out our love,

Make extravagant promises,

But really nothing is required.

You are here, and we are face to face with you,

With God, who is before and within and beyond everything.

There is no greater gift or experience or goal.

And when the glory fades enough for us to see ourselves,

We know that we need to be different, to be better, to be other,

And we desire with all our hearts that this should be so,

And we give ourselves to you afresh that your grace may work in us to make it so.

The importance of being a miserable sinner! Part 1

The importance of being a miserable sinner!

This week brings some theological reflection comparing the Christian view that we are sinners, loved by God, with the modern view that we must be considered absolutely right just as we are. 5 parts to come.

(Note: when I say “miserable sinner” I mean it in the humorous sense of the old fashioned preacher thundering at his congregation: “You miserable sinners!”. I hope you detect my joy in accepting the term)

Part 1: Understanding yourself as a sinner is a positive thing

A TV advert for a perfume consists solely of a series of people saying, “I’m perfect. Perfect. Perfect”.

What a destructive lie! No, you are not perfect; no-one is perfect. Very importantly, we do not have to be perfect in order to be accepted, loved, valued. This is one of the mistakes that modern ideologies make: the belief that I must be beyond criticism if I am to be acceptable – and anyone who does criticise me is thereby demeaning me and infringing my human rights.

Christianity has a much healthier attitude because it has a deeper understanding of human nature.

As a Christian, I freely and gladly accept that I am a miserable sinner. But, crucially, I am a sinner who is loved by God. So, although some might regard being a sinner as a depressing, guilt-inducing belief, perhaps counter-intuitively, it is a joyful, liberating belief. I am free to accept that I am far from perfect – but I am still loved. Not that I therefore become blasé about my sins – falsely believing that they don’t matter, because I am loved anyway. My distress for my sins always remains real, and I am continually striving to become a better person, in order to live in tune with the love that God has given me. However, I am able to accept myself and love myself – not because I am perfect, nor even because I am a good person – but because God loves me. God has given me a standard to live up to. I fall short of it, and you might say that without the standard I would not feel so bad, but instead, I am thankful for the standard for it inspires me to try to live up to it, and even when I fail – which is very regularly – I always put more store by God’s forgiving love than by my failure. So, through faith, I have found a way to be myself, as I am, warts and all, while always striving to be better, and often reaching further than I would without my faith in God, while never being distraught and despairing for my failures. Moreover, my understanding of being a miserable sinner not only provides a basis for my life, it also provides the grounds for community life, for, if I value my status as someone who is acceptable despite having flaws and sometimes making mistakes, then I must grant the same to others.

Have mercy on me

Have mercy on me

Dear Lord,

Have mercy on me, a poor sinner.

I have no health in me, nor strength to change.

But with you there is hope,

For you will uphold me with your great love.

Your compassion never fails.

Forgive me,

My faults and failings fill my eyes,

My heart overflows with sorrow that I have let you down.

I cannot turn back the clock, nor promise that I will not fall again.

But you are my hope, and on you I depend.

Lift me up and by your abundant grace restore me to your path.

I turn to you again and want only to walk with you.

Draw near and accompany me on my life’s journey.

In you alone do I find hope of wholeness.

You alone are able to heal me and so I open my heart and mind to you.

In humble trust I ask you to give me the gifts I need to honour you.

Enable me to know the fullness of life that comes from being in your presence.

Then I will rejoice each moment and exult in your goodness.

I will serve you and care for others in their distress.

Your purity erases all stains,

Your love overflows into the goodness of friends celebrating together,

Your grace never fails.

Cradle of hope

Cradle of hope

In God, we find a cradle of hope.

We are not alone; he will never desert us.

He always loves us and always works for our good.

He will not succumb to our complaining, wheedling or manipulation,

But will remain true to himself and keep calling us to his standards.

He speaks complete truth and will not let us distort it.

He demands justice and will not let us forget it.

He judges against us when we deserve it,

But always to direct us to life.

He is always ready to forgive us,

Even when we cannot forgive ourselves.

When our own strength is exhausted, his is not.

When despair engulfs our hopes, his still shine brightly.

He has a remarkable ability to bring good out of evil.

He can heal us, even when we thought the wound was fatal.

He can make us clean, no matter how filthy we have become.

When someone dirty touches him, he is not tainted, but the person is purified.

He brings people together; we find our unity in him.

His love overcomes all barriers and obstacles.

He creates the grounds for new beginnings.

He vindicates us, even when no-one else does.

When justice is denied us, he reassures us that the ultimate decisions lie with him.

When others belittle us, he lifts us up.

He loves peace.

He opens our eyes to what life is really for.

He shows us what fullness of life is like.

He becomes a spring of life within us,

Refreshing, invigorating, empowering.

When we experience his presence, we find the ultimate,

The answer to all our questions and longing;

Life in all its fullness is ours.

We can die happy, knowing that nothing of importance has been denied us,

We have not failed in the living of our lives,

Our lives are fulfilled, complete, whole.

In a world of cruel injustice, he suffers with us.

Every tear that falls from our eyes is matched by his.

Our impotent rage, he not only understands, but chooses to share.

But patiently he tends our wounds, and will not give in to hate –

Not that you want to cross him; his judgement is just, clear and fierce;

He looks at us and he does not blink.

But as for me, I would just hate and condemn and hurt,

But he is still looking for reconciliation.

When we are weary of crying and can feel no more,

He continues, and drinks the cup to the last drop.

And still he loves.

He directs us how to live our lives.

He is so much more creative, original and joyful than us.

He surprises us.

He always gives us the gifts we need to live the life he shows us.

He enriches us beyond measure, and teaches us how to measure what is worthwhile.

He opens our eyes,

And our hearts and minds,

And he fills all of them with good things.

He has a path for us to follow,

A path that is his and ours at the same time.

The difficulty of keeping to the path is what shapes us into his likeness,

And makes us whole.

The love given and received on this path is what enriches us.

Thus he gives our lives meaning and purpose.

He fills us with joy and peace and love.

Though we stray, he always searches us out, and will not rest till he has rescued us.

All our past, and future, failures are redeemed by him and shaped into something good.

How does he do all these things?

He has no money, or worldly position of power; no armies obey his orders.

I have never seen a miracle; nature unfolds according to its own laws.

He has only one avenue to achieve his will.

He speaks in our minds and stirs our hearts.

He joins us together and shows us what we have at our disposal to share.

He calls us to follow him; to live with him; to be with him.

He empowers us with his vision.

He gives us hope.

A Song of the Incarnation

A Song of the Incarnation

In darkness, sudden incandescent glory,

Confined to a single candle flame

That flickers, but does not go out.

“Confined” in a single flame?

No, “held” – it’s light shines out to all infinity,                     

Yet I can hold it in my hands.

No, not a flame held in my hands, but another hand.

The helpless, innocent hand of an infant.

I cannot help but take it when he holds it out.

He won me through his vulnerability,

Over-powered me with weakness.

To another, I am all bravado,

But I knelt to see him better.

Even to myself, I show just a façade,

But I could not help but smile when I looked on him.

I let down my defences, and he slipped inside.

Yet all powers of the universe cry, “Foul!”

You have cheated!

Power speaks to power and we were primed to defeat you,

But this play of weakness has wrong-footed us.

All authority shouts, “Desecration!”

You smear your majesty in mud,

You cover it with blood,

You demean it with woman,

You betray yourself with flesh.

Purity condemns your lack of judgement.

Committing yourself to them was bad enough,

But now you identify with them.

No, I have not said it right:

You are one with them.

No, I have still not said it right:

You are one of them.

You have compromised yourself with their weakness.

What you have done is impossible.

It breaks all the rules.

No, far beyond that, what you have done cannot be done,

Yet heaven shouts, “Glory! It is accomplished!”

If I was God, I would condemn you for this gross mistake,

But you answer to no-one, and that was the only way it could be done.

The universe should crack at the absurdity,

The mind implode at the incomprehensibility,

The Spirit rebel at being conjoined with this creature.

You have betrayed yourself, and they will repay the favour by betraying you.

And you know it, and you still do it!

And still I have not begun to say what cannot be said.

I cannot even think it.

But you thought it – and it was so.

Let’s gather our wits and put it into words.

As you have deigned to put the Word into flesh,

What shall we say about you?

That God became human.

The infinite expressed in the individual.

The eternal in a mortal man, doomed to die.

Omnipotence limited, but still entire.

The creator contained in just one place and time.

You, who see everything, seeing through just one person’s eyes.

Omniscience needing to grow in understanding,

And not knowing everything, yet knowing all that counts.

And all love held in one person’s heart and expressed in thought and word and deed,

Perfectly.

Mary, they say.

Mary, they say.

I don’t know if I can go through with this.

They’ll say that I’m a liar, a fantasist, that I’m making it all up just so that people will think I’m important, but I swear I’m just telling you what happened. Or trying to put into words what it means and how I feel. God was with me, and I was frightened. I had no idea what was going on – how could I make this up?! But when it was all over, and the angel had gone, and it was just me again, all on my own, I felt calm and glad, and I had a plan – God’s plan, and I was part of it.

They’ll say that I’m stupid, a naïve little girl who doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I agree, I don’t really understand this. I can’t explain it, can’t rationalise it, can’t make sense of what God is up to. They are right – I have no education at all. But this is God in action. We’ll work out later what it all means; right now we have to – I have to – join in with God’s action. I have no idea how this will end, but hovering in the air while the angel spoke were promises of glory that make no sense to me. I could not take them all in; I couldn’t now give you the exact words, but I am left with a deep calm, and a joy that wells up within me such that it bursts out in song.

They’ll say that I am a slut. That I’ve opened my legs for some man who took my fancy, but it was my heart that I opened to God. The message was so unexpected, so overwhelming. Who am I that God should take any account of me? Yet he has blessed me forever. And used me in his plan of salvation that is so outrageously unexpected, so gloriously unlikely to succeed, so creatively full of love and life and hope. So simple, no-one thought he would try it. Yet he has promised me that our salvation is secure and I believe him.

They’ll say I was forced; they’ll be oh so clever – far more clever than I will ever be – and say that behind the piety, really, I was raped. But that’s not how it was. I don’t remember being asked exactly; more told what was going to happen, but then again, I freely gave my consent. They will say that I didn’t really understand what I was letting myself in for, that I don’t fully see what’s going on – and they’re right, of course – but at the heart of it I do see. God needed me and my soul rejoiced. I exult in what is happening to me, in me, through me.

They’ll say that it’s degrading to be used like this, but now I think about it, it seems to me that many will say that it’s God who has degraded himself – getting himself mixed up in human flesh, when he should remain pure spirit. Conjoining himself to woman, whom so many despise, adopting the blood and mess of birth as the way to impart grace. Yet he has chosen the lowly in order to exalt us, and in humility, makes himself radiantly glorious. God chose me.

Again, people will twist my words: “So, he’s using you! Using your womb – and you don’t even see it!”. But I do see it. It’s happening to me. I can sense the presence and the power of God within me. And it is not just my flesh that’s being employed. They will call me “God-bearer”, and many will only truly see God when they see me cradling him, when they see my love for him and his dependence on me, even as I depend on him. And it was me who said, “let it be so”.

I’ve not heard anyone say yet that I’m blessed, but that’s how I feel. I feel that I’ve been included in God’s plan; chosen for a special task. I don’t want to say I’m special – maybe later on some people will say that, but for now, I believe I’ve been given a promise, and it’s up to me to keep it – I mean, let happen whatever it is that God wants to happen. He asked me to do something for him. He wants me to co-operate with his plan – and I think it’s a good plan, and many will be blessed because of what I’m doing.

But even those on my side will get in wrong.

They’ll say I’m still a virgin. As though my son wasn’t brought into the world through blood and pain like everyone else. As though it did not change me forever. As though, somehow, it was easy for me because God is involved. Isn’t it obvious that everything is more difficult for me precisely because God is involved? What’s the point of God doing this if you’re not willing to accept the reality of God in flesh?

They’ll say I’m perfect and put me on a pedestal. I’m bloody well not you know! I’m a woman. I live on the edge of poverty and powerlessness. I gave birth in the muck of a stable floor. And afterwards, life went on and I had to get on with it.

And, yes, I know it’s impossible. I’m not a fool you know. I’m saying nothing; they just say I ponder these things over in my heart.

They say I should not do it. It’s too risky, too dangerous. Look at the state of the world! Why should anyone want to bring a child into the world only to risk heartbreak. But I say this is why I have to do it. The world needs my child. I give birth in hope, not in fear. Why? The Lord has promised me; I can’t say more. He’s promised me that my child is a gift. He did not promise that all will go well, just that he is with me. I don’t deny that I am troubled and, yes, sometimes I am afraid, but I don’t let the fear win. He asks me to trust him, and I do. I will give the world my baby as a gift of love.