Quiet. Except for the rhythmically croaking frogs and the busy twittering of birds, the raps on my keyboard and sporadic voices downstairs. Unusually sporadic. It's an unusual night. It's my second-last night in College House.
For four years I have lived in this fine Herbert Baker-designed edifice, a U-shaped building around a courtyard. For four years I have shared this place with more than 50 other young men, many lost, few found. And what difference has it made? Too little, it seems.
Oh, I've done something, I guess. Started a prayer meeting every week in my room for a few committed souls. And God has been faithful because of that. Four years ago, this place was pretty notorious. People got so drunk they broke the courtyard furniture, burnt off the electric wires on the gate.
Four years down the line, this place is at least respectable. Oh, the guys still get smashed on the weekend and play their music loud and bring girls home in the evenings, but not to the same extent as they used to. But I feel ashamed at trying to describe it that way, because externals aren't what matter; people's hearts do.
So what about their hearts? I've witnessed to only about three people here with my words, and I'd like to say I witnessed to more with my actions, but has that made a difference? Has it made people want to know what I've got that they don't have? No. I haven't shone brightly enough, have been ashamed to talk about my best friend, Jesus. I'm sorry, Father.
And now, it's almost too late. I feel sad at what I've been, and am still, too afraid to do. But I believe there's hope. I believe that prayer will go on in this house; that Jesus will continue to be present in it. He's got his men here, and I'm not leaving the scene entirely; just moving a couple of blocks away. I've already been given the role 'the sober old boy' by my warden, and I intend to play it well. But ja, I'm not the Messiah; just his friend. And God's grace is as faithful as ever.
By the way, read Gondayi's enlightening comment on my last post. He's right, of course. It's crude to cast salvation as something you can 'sell', and maybe I fell into the trap of using the commercialised language of this age. It's not our job to 'sell' the Good News; only tell others what God has done for us. Thank God! Only he can convince people of their need for him. So let's follow him and do what he's told us to do. Now if only it were as easily said as done...
Monday, November 24, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Some Questions about Unity and Evangelism
I've been reading through Ephesians in my quiet times this past week. It's an incredible book for anyone who loves the Church (with a capital 'C': not just the building down the road, but the incredibly huge family of God's people all over the world). And if you don't love the Church, it'll tell you why you should! What makes it even better is that one of the big themes is Christian unity, and if you know me, you'll know that unity is something I've got a huge soft spot for.
Back in the day when the Holy Spirit inspired Paul to write the book, one of the big fault lines in the Church was between Jews and Gentiles. Read Ephesians 2:14-18 to show what Jesus did to bring these two groups together:
"For Christ himself has brought peace to us. He united Jews and Gentiles into one people when, in his own body on the cross, he broke down the wall of hostility that separated us. He did this by ending the system of law with its commandments and regulations. He made peace between Jews and Gentiles by creating in himself one new people from the two groups. Together as one body, Christ reconciled both groups to God by means of his death on the cross, and our hostility toward each other was put to death." (NLT)
Jesus smashed the walls that separated these two types of believers, so that we could be one people from the two groups. But as I was reading this, question number one popped into my head:
If Jesus broke down walls between his people, why are we constantly rebuilding them? Why do we separate ourselves from other believers based on race, class, denomination, doctrinal position, worship style, you name it?
Then this morning I read Ephesians 4:1-16. This is one of the most incredible passages on unity there is, and I have to study it a whole lot more. For instance, many of us know this part:
"For there is one body and one Spirit, just as you have been called to one glorious hope for the future. There is one Lord, one faith, one baptism, and one God and Father, who is over all and in all and living through all." (Ephesians 4:4-6, NLT)
It's heady stuff. We share the same body, the same Holy Spirit is in us, we have the same hope, the same Lord, the same faith, the same baptism, the same God and Father, yet we manage to split off from each other at every opportunity. And it gets better. God helped me see these verses in a whole new light today:
"Now these are the gifts Christ gave to the church: the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, and the pastors and teachers. Their responsibility is to equip God’s people to do his work and build up the church, the body of Christ. This will continue until we all come to such unity in our faith and knowledge of God’s Son that we will be mature in the Lord, measuring up to the full and complete standard of Christ." (Ephesians 4:11-13, NLT)
I'm no expert on the gifts of the Spirit, but what I do know is that we usually talk about them in the context of one particular congregation. We have apostles and prophets and evangelists and pastors and teachers who can work together as a radical team to build up what? Our local congregation, right? Wrong! They're there for the complete body of Christ, the whole body that Paul was talking about just a few verses earlier! This leads me to question number two:
Why do so many of our gifted Church leaders often think of themselves as 'church leaders', with their role stopping at only one congregation or denomination? And why do so few seem to be leading us to greater unity, as the Scriptures say will be one of the major consequences of our maturing in the faith?
Then to change tack quite dramatically, some things I've observed have left me with a couple of questions about evangelism. I've been trying hard to talk about Christ to a dear friend of mine, and praying for the Spirit to give me words every step of the way (although, admittedly, many times I fail to listen).
Now over the years, I've noticed two schools of thought about what to tell people about Christ: one is the "Do you know what's going to happen when you die?" approach, and the other is the "Your life will be better with Jesus" approach.
The "Do you know what's going to happen when you die?" approach has much to recommend it: after all, isn't the biggest benefit of our salvation the assurance that we will go to heaven one day when we die? Or is it? Whatever the case may be, this approach is completely lost on my friend. He usually doesn't even think about what will happen tomorrow. Trying to think about what happens after death is just way out for him. And even if it did work, would I just be selling him 'fire insurance', leading him to Christ out of fear, rather than showing him to respond to Christ's love?
On the other hand, the "Your life will be better with Jesus" approach isn't always true. In fact, in many parts of the world where persecution happens, your life is guaranteed to become materially worse once you make Christ your Lord. Last night I read a tragic example of how this approach can go wrong.
An article called The Power of Speech tells the story of Daniel Everett, who came to a missionary to the tiny Pirahã tribe in the Amazon basin in the 1970s. Everett learned the tribe's language and wrote a paper about it in which he challenged Noam Chomsky's theories about linguistic universals. As a linguist, I know that's an incredible achievement. However, in spending time with the tribe, Everett also lost his faith. This was the reasoning he gave:
"What should the empirical evidence for religion be? It should produce peaceful, strong, secure people who are right with God and right with the world. I don't see that evidence very often. So then I find myself with the Pirahã. They have all these qualities that I am trying to tell them they could have. They are the ones who are living life the way I'm saying it ought to be lived, they just don't fear heaven and hell."
Obviously I don't know enough about the man to make anything like an accurate diagnosis of what went wrong with his faith, but to me, it sounds like he is suggesting that the proof for Christianity should be well-adjusted Christians here in this world. Now of course, when we walk with God we start to show the fruits of the Spirit, which include peace and build our strength. But if I think of Christ, if I think of the apostles and other heroes of the faith, I don't think of people who were "right with the world". In fact, the very opposite. These were people who had thrown the world away, who battled with it and with their own human inclinations day and night. Without heaven to set their eyes on, they'd be the most miserable people on earth (1 Corinthians 15:19). Maybe being a Christian is not about living a good life, however one may define it; it's about knowing and loving a good God.
So where does that leave us as witnesses? Which approach do we take: the "Do you know what's going to happen when you die?" approach, or the "Your life will be better with Jesus" approach? Or neither? I think the answer might just lie in what I said in the last sentence above. Maybe Christianity's best selling point is not having a great time here on earth or anywhere else. Maybe it's a relationship with the One who loves us most.
That leaves me with one more question:
How do we, as witnesses, sell a relationship with God?
Back in the day when the Holy Spirit inspired Paul to write the book, one of the big fault lines in the Church was between Jews and Gentiles. Read Ephesians 2:14-18 to show what Jesus did to bring these two groups together:
"For Christ himself has brought peace to us. He united Jews and Gentiles into one people when, in his own body on the cross, he broke down the wall of hostility that separated us. He did this by ending the system of law with its commandments and regulations. He made peace between Jews and Gentiles by creating in himself one new people from the two groups. Together as one body, Christ reconciled both groups to God by means of his death on the cross, and our hostility toward each other was put to death." (NLT)
Jesus smashed the walls that separated these two types of believers, so that we could be one people from the two groups. But as I was reading this, question number one popped into my head:
If Jesus broke down walls between his people, why are we constantly rebuilding them? Why do we separate ourselves from other believers based on race, class, denomination, doctrinal position, worship style, you name it?
Then this morning I read Ephesians 4:1-16. This is one of the most incredible passages on unity there is, and I have to study it a whole lot more. For instance, many of us know this part:
"For there is one body and one Spirit, just as you have been called to one glorious hope for the future. There is one Lord, one faith, one baptism, and one God and Father, who is over all and in all and living through all." (Ephesians 4:4-6, NLT)
It's heady stuff. We share the same body, the same Holy Spirit is in us, we have the same hope, the same Lord, the same faith, the same baptism, the same God and Father, yet we manage to split off from each other at every opportunity. And it gets better. God helped me see these verses in a whole new light today:
"Now these are the gifts Christ gave to the church: the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, and the pastors and teachers. Their responsibility is to equip God’s people to do his work and build up the church, the body of Christ. This will continue until we all come to such unity in our faith and knowledge of God’s Son that we will be mature in the Lord, measuring up to the full and complete standard of Christ." (Ephesians 4:11-13, NLT)
I'm no expert on the gifts of the Spirit, but what I do know is that we usually talk about them in the context of one particular congregation. We have apostles and prophets and evangelists and pastors and teachers who can work together as a radical team to build up what? Our local congregation, right? Wrong! They're there for the complete body of Christ, the whole body that Paul was talking about just a few verses earlier! This leads me to question number two:
Why do so many of our gifted Church leaders often think of themselves as 'church leaders', with their role stopping at only one congregation or denomination? And why do so few seem to be leading us to greater unity, as the Scriptures say will be one of the major consequences of our maturing in the faith?
Then to change tack quite dramatically, some things I've observed have left me with a couple of questions about evangelism. I've been trying hard to talk about Christ to a dear friend of mine, and praying for the Spirit to give me words every step of the way (although, admittedly, many times I fail to listen).
Now over the years, I've noticed two schools of thought about what to tell people about Christ: one is the "Do you know what's going to happen when you die?" approach, and the other is the "Your life will be better with Jesus" approach.
The "Do you know what's going to happen when you die?" approach has much to recommend it: after all, isn't the biggest benefit of our salvation the assurance that we will go to heaven one day when we die? Or is it? Whatever the case may be, this approach is completely lost on my friend. He usually doesn't even think about what will happen tomorrow. Trying to think about what happens after death is just way out for him. And even if it did work, would I just be selling him 'fire insurance', leading him to Christ out of fear, rather than showing him to respond to Christ's love?
On the other hand, the "Your life will be better with Jesus" approach isn't always true. In fact, in many parts of the world where persecution happens, your life is guaranteed to become materially worse once you make Christ your Lord. Last night I read a tragic example of how this approach can go wrong.
An article called The Power of Speech tells the story of Daniel Everett, who came to a missionary to the tiny Pirahã tribe in the Amazon basin in the 1970s. Everett learned the tribe's language and wrote a paper about it in which he challenged Noam Chomsky's theories about linguistic universals. As a linguist, I know that's an incredible achievement. However, in spending time with the tribe, Everett also lost his faith. This was the reasoning he gave:
"What should the empirical evidence for religion be? It should produce peaceful, strong, secure people who are right with God and right with the world. I don't see that evidence very often. So then I find myself with the Pirahã. They have all these qualities that I am trying to tell them they could have. They are the ones who are living life the way I'm saying it ought to be lived, they just don't fear heaven and hell."
Obviously I don't know enough about the man to make anything like an accurate diagnosis of what went wrong with his faith, but to me, it sounds like he is suggesting that the proof for Christianity should be well-adjusted Christians here in this world. Now of course, when we walk with God we start to show the fruits of the Spirit, which include peace and build our strength. But if I think of Christ, if I think of the apostles and other heroes of the faith, I don't think of people who were "right with the world". In fact, the very opposite. These were people who had thrown the world away, who battled with it and with their own human inclinations day and night. Without heaven to set their eyes on, they'd be the most miserable people on earth (1 Corinthians 15:19). Maybe being a Christian is not about living a good life, however one may define it; it's about knowing and loving a good God.
So where does that leave us as witnesses? Which approach do we take: the "Do you know what's going to happen when you die?" approach, or the "Your life will be better with Jesus" approach? Or neither? I think the answer might just lie in what I said in the last sentence above. Maybe Christianity's best selling point is not having a great time here on earth or anywhere else. Maybe it's a relationship with the One who loves us most.
That leaves me with one more question:
How do we, as witnesses, sell a relationship with God?
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Oh, everything will change!
So by now those of you au fait with the 268 canon of music will know that I've got "The Glory of it All" by David Crowder*Band in my mind. One of my favourite parts of the song is this:
After night comes a light;
Dawn is here, dawn is here.
It's a new day, a new day!
Oh everything will change;
Things will never be the same.
We will never be the same! (Repeat line as desired)
Not the deepest of words, I must agree, but what I love is the sheer delight with which you can sing them. The old is past and we're never going back there! We're changing into something far better, reflecting God's glory more.
I mention all this because we've just been through been a huge week (or so) of changes that excite me. Wednesday we woke up to hear that Barack Obama had been elected as the USA's first black president. Friday we found out that Shikota's new political party had been named "Congress of the People". And (on a more personal note) Thursday I signed a lease for my digs for next year.
The political stuff first: I'm unashamedly delighted about President-Elect Obama. The things I've been reading out of America have been wonderful, comparing this week to our own heady days of 1994 with people partying in the streets for joy. He's done the inconceivable in breaking racial barriers and inspiring new hope in a USA that many of us had written off as incurably self-interested and narrow-minded when Bush won his second term four years ago, effectively sentencing the world to four more years of war in Iraq and threats of war in other places, not to mention lack of will to cut down on greenhouse gas emissions. I'm reminded that "All governments have been placed in power by God" (Romans 13:2 NLT) and I'm grateful for this new USA government.
Then closer to home, I've really started to think that the ANC really did South Africa a favour when it elected Jacob Zuma president and later sacked Thabo Mbeki. No, I'm no Zuma fan, and I'm still rather worried at the thought of a president who already has a less-than-savoury reputation for his sexual exploits and ignorance about AIDS, not to mention the charges of corruption which he tries to evade at every turn. But without these events, we may never have been witness to the birth of a party which shows the potential to become a real challenger to the ANC at election time. That would be brilliant for our democracy, as long as our people do not choose the 'low road' of political violence as they have in the past.
And what's more, the Congress of the People (or COP, as they're calling themselves) are trying so hard to be everything that Zuma is not, that most of their rhetoric so far has stressed the need for clean government, the independence of the judiciary, and the need to build a society upholding the values of respect, integrity and ubuntu. Beautiful stuff!
Of course, I'm not naive enough to think that Obama and the COP are political saviours who will ensure a bright future for us all. As is often the case with politics, good policies are bundled with bad, and people don't keep to their promises. We can't be sure of what lies ahead, but we can pray to the God of what lies ahead about these political developments, asking him to do with them what he wills. Our Christian brother Barack Obama needs our prayers now, as do our president and all our political leaders in this confusing time.
And that brings me to the third change of the week: my digs lease. For me, it's also a leap into the unknown. I don't know how well I'll adapt to life in digs, whether I'll like my new digsmates as much after a few months of living with them (no offence, guys!), if my new room is going to be big enough for me... But I'm excited about the change that God is bringing about in my life, and trusting that he'll glorify his name through it. In the end, that's what life on Earth is all about. Oh, the glory of it all!
After night comes a light;
Dawn is here, dawn is here.
It's a new day, a new day!
Oh everything will change;
Things will never be the same.
We will never be the same! (Repeat line as desired)
Not the deepest of words, I must agree, but what I love is the sheer delight with which you can sing them. The old is past and we're never going back there! We're changing into something far better, reflecting God's glory more.
I mention all this because we've just been through been a huge week (or so) of changes that excite me. Wednesday we woke up to hear that Barack Obama had been elected as the USA's first black president. Friday we found out that Shikota's new political party had been named "Congress of the People". And (on a more personal note) Thursday I signed a lease for my digs for next year.
The political stuff first: I'm unashamedly delighted about President-Elect Obama. The things I've been reading out of America have been wonderful, comparing this week to our own heady days of 1994 with people partying in the streets for joy. He's done the inconceivable in breaking racial barriers and inspiring new hope in a USA that many of us had written off as incurably self-interested and narrow-minded when Bush won his second term four years ago, effectively sentencing the world to four more years of war in Iraq and threats of war in other places, not to mention lack of will to cut down on greenhouse gas emissions. I'm reminded that "All governments have been placed in power by God" (Romans 13:2 NLT) and I'm grateful for this new USA government.
Then closer to home, I've really started to think that the ANC really did South Africa a favour when it elected Jacob Zuma president and later sacked Thabo Mbeki. No, I'm no Zuma fan, and I'm still rather worried at the thought of a president who already has a less-than-savoury reputation for his sexual exploits and ignorance about AIDS, not to mention the charges of corruption which he tries to evade at every turn. But without these events, we may never have been witness to the birth of a party which shows the potential to become a real challenger to the ANC at election time. That would be brilliant for our democracy, as long as our people do not choose the 'low road' of political violence as they have in the past.
And what's more, the Congress of the People (or COP, as they're calling themselves) are trying so hard to be everything that Zuma is not, that most of their rhetoric so far has stressed the need for clean government, the independence of the judiciary, and the need to build a society upholding the values of respect, integrity and ubuntu. Beautiful stuff!
Of course, I'm not naive enough to think that Obama and the COP are political saviours who will ensure a bright future for us all. As is often the case with politics, good policies are bundled with bad, and people don't keep to their promises. We can't be sure of what lies ahead, but we can pray to the God of what lies ahead about these political developments, asking him to do with them what he wills. Our Christian brother Barack Obama needs our prayers now, as do our president and all our political leaders in this confusing time.
And that brings me to the third change of the week: my digs lease. For me, it's also a leap into the unknown. I don't know how well I'll adapt to life in digs, whether I'll like my new digsmates as much after a few months of living with them (no offence, guys!), if my new room is going to be big enough for me... But I'm excited about the change that God is bringing about in my life, and trusting that he'll glorify his name through it. In the end, that's what life on Earth is all about. Oh, the glory of it all!
Monday, November 03, 2008
A holy huddle or a radical family?
So I was planning to follow up last week's post with one on how we need an alternative Christian public sphere, a place where we can share and discuss our views with each other. But then some really exciting things happened and got me thinking that we don't just need to swop opinions with each other; we need to be a different kind of community.
You see, I had the privilege of taking two friends down to Jeffreys Bay for Swot Week. Now you don't want to get me started on how awesome J-Bay is and how I always meet with God while I'm there, and this time was no exception.
It started with a chat I had with one of these friends, Leanne du Preez, at a coffee shop opposite the beach. We talked about how there are certain people who always get us going, spiritually. Each of us know the people we can go to just to chat, bounce some ideas off, pray with. The people who stimulate us in our faith so much that we feel like we could do anything with God after speaking with them. I'll call them encouragers.
Well, as God would have it, one of my encouragers lives in Jeffreys Bay: a family friend who is about my Mom's age. Her name is Avril. Avril truly tries to live in intimate communion with God and obey him at every step, and every time I come to Jeffreys Bay regales me with stories of the incredible things God has been doing with her. I really wanted Leanne and my other friend, Shellique Carby, to meet her and be encouraged by her too. So I invited her round for supper one evening. And yes, true to form, that evening was hugely blessed.
Things were a little awkward when we sat down and began chatting. After all, why would she want to meet my student friends? But as soon as we got down to telling her all about the great things God did through Christians @ Rhodes Week of Worship, and she told us about some of the miraculous things that had happened to her just recently, the vibe changed. This wasn't me introducing my friends to some random, middle-aged lady any more. This was church; this was family breaking bread together.
We got into some deep discussions about problems in each other's lives over coffee and koeksusters after the meal. It got a little intense at times, and after a short while we found we were talking around in circles. It was clear that none of us had the answers, but our Father did. So we got down and prayed about them. Avril began praying in short, simple sentences, letting her words be few as the Scriptures tell us we should. What followed was an intense time of praying into each other's lives. Both Avril and Leanne received some answers they'd been waiting a long time to hear. The room was so filled with God's presence that Leanne's hands were trembling. At the end we hugged each other and I was just laughing for joy in the Lord's presence. God had used each of us to minister to each other!
As Avril left, Leanne commented that it felt like she had known her forever, when we had spent only six hours together. We had a spiritual connection: the same Spirit is in us!
I've been thinking about that time and delighting in my memories of it for a few days now. But it hasn't been the only time this week when I've been overjoyed to be part of God's family. I've been overjoyed at news of brothers and sisters getting together in partnerships in which they have the potential to do far more for the kingdom of God than both of them could do separately. I've been 'adopted' as an extra sibling by another friend of mine. Yet at times I've felt ashamed at these thoughts: Why should I be so happy at being in this holy huddle when there are so many out there who are out in the cold, far from God?
Then this morning, I read something that pulled it all together for me. In Acts 18:9-10, God encourages Paul in a vision. He says "Don't be afraid! Speak out! Don't be silent! For I am with you, and no one will harm you because many people here in this city belong to me." Paul had good reason to be very afraid. He was in an incredibly dark city, Corinth. The god Aphrodite was the centre of attraction, and she was worshipped through all manner of sexually immoral acts. Yet Paul could stand up and speak out because God had many people in that city!
If you read the whole passage, from verse 1 to verse 17, you see these 'many people' in action. Aquila and Priscilla (an example of a couple that functioned like a ministry partnership if ever there was one) took Paul in when he arrived in town, and allowed him to earn an income working in their business. Later, a guy called Titius Justus hosted him. Silas and Timothy came around, allowing Paul to focus his attentions on telling the Good News to the Jews. And Crispus, the leader of the synagogue, no doubt was a great help when he became a believer along with his family.
But notice the purpose of all this teamwork: it wasn't just to make each other feel nice and loved. It was to support each other so that Paul and others could carry on fearlessly telling the Good News! In the same way, we have to be a radical family for each other, helping each other to spread the Good News of the kingdom.
One of the things I told Leanne back in the coffee shop was something my father told me: Major church growth happens when you've got a small group of like-minded people feeding off each other's energy and vision. It's happened in churches like Willow Creek in the USA and Holy Trinity Brompton in Britain. It happened in Corinth. And it can happen here too, if we dare turn our fellowship outwards.
PS. After all that earnestness, here's some pure family lightheartedness to break the exam tension. Take a moment to visit http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tTYr3JuueF4!
You see, I had the privilege of taking two friends down to Jeffreys Bay for Swot Week. Now you don't want to get me started on how awesome J-Bay is and how I always meet with God while I'm there, and this time was no exception.
It started with a chat I had with one of these friends, Leanne du Preez, at a coffee shop opposite the beach. We talked about how there are certain people who always get us going, spiritually. Each of us know the people we can go to just to chat, bounce some ideas off, pray with. The people who stimulate us in our faith so much that we feel like we could do anything with God after speaking with them. I'll call them encouragers.
Well, as God would have it, one of my encouragers lives in Jeffreys Bay: a family friend who is about my Mom's age. Her name is Avril. Avril truly tries to live in intimate communion with God and obey him at every step, and every time I come to Jeffreys Bay regales me with stories of the incredible things God has been doing with her. I really wanted Leanne and my other friend, Shellique Carby, to meet her and be encouraged by her too. So I invited her round for supper one evening. And yes, true to form, that evening was hugely blessed.
Things were a little awkward when we sat down and began chatting. After all, why would she want to meet my student friends? But as soon as we got down to telling her all about the great things God did through Christians @ Rhodes Week of Worship, and she told us about some of the miraculous things that had happened to her just recently, the vibe changed. This wasn't me introducing my friends to some random, middle-aged lady any more. This was church; this was family breaking bread together.
We got into some deep discussions about problems in each other's lives over coffee and koeksusters after the meal. It got a little intense at times, and after a short while we found we were talking around in circles. It was clear that none of us had the answers, but our Father did. So we got down and prayed about them. Avril began praying in short, simple sentences, letting her words be few as the Scriptures tell us we should. What followed was an intense time of praying into each other's lives. Both Avril and Leanne received some answers they'd been waiting a long time to hear. The room was so filled with God's presence that Leanne's hands were trembling. At the end we hugged each other and I was just laughing for joy in the Lord's presence. God had used each of us to minister to each other!
As Avril left, Leanne commented that it felt like she had known her forever, when we had spent only six hours together. We had a spiritual connection: the same Spirit is in us!
I've been thinking about that time and delighting in my memories of it for a few days now. But it hasn't been the only time this week when I've been overjoyed to be part of God's family. I've been overjoyed at news of brothers and sisters getting together in partnerships in which they have the potential to do far more for the kingdom of God than both of them could do separately. I've been 'adopted' as an extra sibling by another friend of mine. Yet at times I've felt ashamed at these thoughts: Why should I be so happy at being in this holy huddle when there are so many out there who are out in the cold, far from God?
Then this morning, I read something that pulled it all together for me. In Acts 18:9-10, God encourages Paul in a vision. He says "Don't be afraid! Speak out! Don't be silent! For I am with you, and no one will harm you because many people here in this city belong to me." Paul had good reason to be very afraid. He was in an incredibly dark city, Corinth. The god Aphrodite was the centre of attraction, and she was worshipped through all manner of sexually immoral acts. Yet Paul could stand up and speak out because God had many people in that city!
If you read the whole passage, from verse 1 to verse 17, you see these 'many people' in action. Aquila and Priscilla (an example of a couple that functioned like a ministry partnership if ever there was one) took Paul in when he arrived in town, and allowed him to earn an income working in their business. Later, a guy called Titius Justus hosted him. Silas and Timothy came around, allowing Paul to focus his attentions on telling the Good News to the Jews. And Crispus, the leader of the synagogue, no doubt was a great help when he became a believer along with his family.
But notice the purpose of all this teamwork: it wasn't just to make each other feel nice and loved. It was to support each other so that Paul and others could carry on fearlessly telling the Good News! In the same way, we have to be a radical family for each other, helping each other to spread the Good News of the kingdom.
One of the things I told Leanne back in the coffee shop was something my father told me: Major church growth happens when you've got a small group of like-minded people feeding off each other's energy and vision. It's happened in churches like Willow Creek in the USA and Holy Trinity Brompton in Britain. It happened in Corinth. And it can happen here too, if we dare turn our fellowship outwards.
PS. After all that earnestness, here's some pure family lightheartedness to break the exam tension. Take a moment to visit http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tTYr3JuueF4!
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