Dear Malcolm iii

•March 15, 2010 • Leave a Comment

Letter VI takes up the issue of substituting religion for God.

“- as if navigation were substituted for arrival, or battle for victory, or wooing for marriage, or in general the means for the end.”

Religion in this sense takes the focus off God, and on to us.  It makes what we do, what we like the raison d’etre and not what God does and is.

“This department of life, labelled ‘sacred’ can become an end in itself; an idol that hides both God and my neighbours.  It may even come about that a man’s most genuinely Christian actions fall entirely outside that part of life which he calls religious.“

‘Religion’ can be what stops a church exploring where it should be and what it should be doing, because it always has to keep an eye to what people want – not what God is calling us to.

‘Religion’ can hold people back, because it can become a relationship with how things are done, not with God, for whom they’re done.

‘Religion’ can keep us busy looking at structures when we should be looking at God and following his call.

Faith, worship, living a Christian life – all good things – when done for God and not their own end.

I’ve ‘taken up’ C S Lewis for Lent.

They’re a couple of books that I found when we moved, and thought ‘I must have another read of those one day’.  Well in an effort to do something productive during Lent, ‘one day’ has come.

I started with The Screwtape Letters and now I’m moving on to ‘Prayer: Letters to Malcolm‘ , first published 1964.  It must be about 25 years since I read it – and a lot of water has passed under this bridge since then.

I’ll share just some of my random thoughts as I work my way through it – hoping they might spark some thought.  Feel free to comment!

Dear Malcolm ii

•March 12, 2010 • Leave a Comment

Letter V turns to some of the clauses from The Lords Prayer.

In relation to ‘Thy will be done‘ he says,

“The petition, then, is not merely that I patiently suffer God’s will but also that I may vigorously do it.  I must be an agent as well as a patient.  I am asking that I may be enabled to do it.  In the long run I am asking to be given ‘the same mind which is also in Christ’.”

Praying ‘thy will be done’ then, is not just inviting God to do what he wants with us, but pledging ourselves to being part with him in what he wants to do in the world.

God’s will can only be done in the here and now, if we are willing to be part to it.

In the words of Annie Johnston Flint:

Christ has no hands but our hands to do His work today

He has no feet but our feet to lead men in the way

He has no tongue but our tongue to tell men how He died

He has no help but our help to bring them to His side.

We are the only Bible the careless world will read,

We are the sinner’s gospel; we are the scoffer’s creed;

We are the Lord’s last message, given in word and deed;

What if the type is crooked? What if the print is blurred?

What if our hands are busy with other work than His?

What if our feet are walking where sin’s allurement is?

What if our tongue is speaking of things His lips would spurn?

How can we hope to help Him or welcome His return?

In praying ‘Thy will be done’, we are not praying for some vague hope, we are inviting God to do something today – and to do it with us.  “Thy will be done – by me – now”

I’ve ‘taken up’ C S Lewis for Lent.

They’re a couple of books that I found when we moved, and thought ‘I must have another read of those one day’.  Well in an effort to do something productive during Lent, ‘one day’ has come.

I started with The Screwtape Letters and now I’m moving on to ‘Prayer: Letters to Malcolm‘ , first published 1964.  It must be about 25 years since I read it – and a lot of water has passed under this bridge since then.

I’ll share just some of my random thoughts as I work my way through it – hoping they might spark some thought.  Feel free to comment!

Watching and waiting

•March 10, 2010 • Leave a Comment

One of the most scary parts of being a parent is when your children learn to drive.  You have to stand and watch them drive off.  You are no longer in any control.  They are.  And they have the power and the freedom to go anywhere, risk anything – and you neither know, or can do anything about it.  And you wait, often with your heart in your mouth, not able to settle until they come back home.

It is difficult to say anything about the Parable of the Lost Son, that Henri Nouwen does not say much better in ‘The Return of the Prodigal Son‘ – and I recommend that you read it.  Spend some time reflecting on the picture by Rembrandt.

But I guess that must be something of the feeling that the father had.  His son might not have had a car, but he had money enough to go out and do what he wanted.  To make mistakes, do what he thought was right, do his own thing.  And all the father can do is wait.  How scared he must have been about what his son might do.  How brave of him to let him go and do it.  How strong of him to welcome him home when he had got it all so wrong.

You can put yourself in any of the the characters of this story.  But the overwhelming theme is of the Father who allows his son to go – and waits for him to come back, and when he does is overjoyed and welcomes him home.

This is also the theme in the reading from 2 Corinthians.  We are brought back to God.  Not because of anything we’ve done – but because of Jesus.  Unlike us, he had done nothing wrong.  We, like the prodigal son, have gone away and done our own thing, what looked exciting, what we wanted to.  We have thought that the grass would be greener on the other side.  And when we discovered it wasn’t, God was waiting.  Jesus has never done anything wrong.  He understood what God needed and did it – but he was willing to offer himself – so that we might be right with God.

Perhaps during Lent if we’ve had time to think and reflect about our lives, we might have found somehings we’re not proud of.  Perhaps, like the son, we have come to our senses and seen what a poor life we lead compared to what God can offer.  God is always there waiting, it’s us that goes to other places.  Wherever we have been, whatever we have or haven’t done, we can come back to God.  He is looking out for us, just waiting for us to start back to him.

I love the wild abandon of the father.  He doesn’t wait patiently for his son to make it t the front door, he doesn’t wait until he’s apologised – no he runs to meet him.  There is nothing the son need do but set off towards home, and the father is there.  There is nothing we need do, but reach out to God.  Jesus has done the rest, we can come back to God through him.

God is waiting, arms open wide.  Are we going to turn to him?  Let him forgive us and welcome us home?  To know that we are right with him, and live the life he offers?