Here are a few observations.

There is, at one level, something right about people’s expectations. Because Jesus expects much from those to whom much has been given (Luke 12:48). And Paul encourages undershepherds to watch our life and doctrine closely (1 Tim 4:16).

But on another level, these expectations place an impossible burden on a pastor. Because, like any member of the congregation, he is a sinful human being who though forgiven still struggles with sin.

As I reflected on this truth I realised that something similar can be going on in churches all the time. Though, as individuals, we are conscious of our own sinfulness (and our total reliance on God’s grace) we look around us and assume everyone else has got it sorted. It is as if I need grace but I assume YOU don’t. And that kind of false assumption is what stifles openness – as we’re terrified of sharing struggles that we assume no one else faces.

Another peculiar irony of this phenomenon is that it can lead to judgementalistm. So if I look at you and you present as if you’ve got it all sorted, then it is easy for me to become critical of the things which you obviously haven’t got sorted! When in fact we’re all in the same boat, none of us have it sorted, and we’re all utterly dependent on grace.

And all this is why we need to keep coming back to grace, revelling in it, and seeking to live out its implications in our interactions with one another. That is one of the reasons we have just started a series all about grace. You can hear the first in the series here. And you might find some further mulling on the above in the sermon on Sunday evening…

In other words, to say that I have got that area of sin in my life ‘under control’ isn’t the same as acknowledging in your heart that it is wrong and saying sorry to God for it and turning away from that particular pattern of behaviour or thought.

This is an incredibly helpful reminder. The deceitfulness of our hearts means that the longer we have struggled with a particular sin, the more likely we are just to have ‘accepted’ it. It has become familiar, normal. We are no longer horrified by it. And if our hearts will not own it for what it is, then true repentance is impossible.

Recently I was reading Psalm 32 and found a wonderful parallel to this thought. The first 4 verses speak of the blessing of forgiveness compared to the burden of unconfessed sin. Verse 5, the moment of confession and the wonderful response of forgiveness. 6-7 are an encouragement to others to follow the same path – to acknowledge their sins and discover the deliverance and protection that comes from the LORD.

But it was verses 8-9 that I found most helpful. Having repented of sin, then the LORD teaches us the right path to follow. Not to ‘manage’ the sin but to leave it behind. The challenge for me comes in verse 9. Are we going to willingly follow the new path the LORD is teaching, or will we need to be cajoled and dragged into obedience like the horse or mule which has no understanding?

Managing behaviour is not the same as repentant change. We will only willingly follow when our hearts have been truly changed. When our desires are no longer for the things of this world but we are satisfied only in God. Pray that more and more this would be true of each one of us.

Do you remember the scene? There’s a man who has been paralysed for thirty-eight years (v5) and Jesus tells him to get up and pick up his mat and walk (v8). And he does! Wonderful – praise the Lord – what an evidently good thing to have happened.

But rather than praising God for the wonderful work He has just done, the Jews immediately start grumbling about Sabbath-breaking (v10). You would think the first thing you might say to the man in this situation is ‘Halelujah!’ or ‘It’s great to see you on your feet’ or even ‘How are you feeling to have left the spot you have been lying for the last thirty-odd years?’, but their first recorded statement is an accusation about carrying his mat on a day that it was forbidden (**).

And then I realised that I often react in the same way. I hear of some new work or ministry – and my first thought is to question it because the people organising it might not share exactly the same theology as me. Shouldn’t I rather be praising God that a new work is starting? This is not a plea to be undiscerning, but it is a reminder to myself of the primacy of grace and the dangers of jumping to judgements and missing the joy.

Lord forgive my legalistic and judgemental spirit.

* Actually the text just refers to ‘the Jews’ but given the rest of the testimony of the NT it is not unreasonable to assume at least some of them were Pharisees.
** At least, on their understanding of the law it was forbidden, though that is certainly debatable whether this is really the sort of thing that the 4th commandment is about.

There is a striking parallel here with what happens a chapter earlier when Peter disowns Jesus three times. One of the surprising things is that this follower of Jesus is able to disown him, and this ‘enemy’ of Jesus defends him (though of course, ultimately, Pilate weakly capitulates to the demands of the crowd and goes against his own assessment of the situation).

It is a reminder of the complexity of living in a fallen world, but one in which there is common grace. The image of God in mankind – however distorted by the Fall – and God’s gracious and generous kindness to all kinds of people mean that even in the ‘worst’ of unbelievers it is still possible for there to be some truth and goodness in their actions. And correspondingly that even in the ‘best’ of believers it is still possible for there to be things that are wrong and displeasing to God.

It is worth remembering this truth. Too often we try and draw neat little circles – them and us – good and bad. The reality is rarely that simple. After all, no one is good – except God alone…

The ‘problem of evil’ – if put in simplistic terms – could be reduced to the question of how a good and all-powerful God can allow suffering in a world consisting of people He loves. Volumes have been written on the subject and I do not believe there are any ’simple’ answers to the problem. However, I do believe the Bible as a whole does address and answer the question on many different levels.

As a preliminary observation I note that the ‘problem’ as framed above provides an inadequate description of the world the Bible describes (and we inhabit). It seems to assume that a human observer has both an ‘objective position’ and a reliable understanding from which to assess ‘the good’ in any given situation. It is only from such a position that the ‘problem’ can even be raised! This is a profoundly un-Biblical view of the abilities of human beings which are limited both by our finitude and our fallenness.

The book of Job provides one of the most sustained opportunities to reflect on the issue. In it we see a “blameless and upright man” who suffers an extraordinary amount of suffering as a result of the machinations of the devil. It raises searching questions about causality – what is the difference between ‘causing’ and ‘allowing’ a course of events? It raises challenging questions about the ‘good’ which God is working for in Job’s life – though I would be reluctant to presume that I had a better understanding of ‘the good’ in this situation than the Almighty God who “laid the foundations of the earth”.

But there is one single angle I wish to mention today. Job and some of his ‘comforters’ both raise questions about why God doesn’t intervene when the wicked do wicked things. Surely it would be better if there were instant judgement? Why does the ‘temporal’ relationship between evil and judgement seem to be broken? Where is the comfort in only a future judgement?

Instant feedback for the wicked does indeed sound a much better idea… providing you are not one of the wicked. And there is the rub for anyone holding a Biblical view of the world. If we have a true understanding of God’s glory and God’s holiness, then it turns out that we are all committing a million offences against Him every day. Because whenever we fail to acknoweldge God for who He is then we are worthy of judgement. That is the nature of sin. We make ourselves Gods and reject/ignore/forget the real God.

Don Carson makes the point with typical clarity and brevity:

…at the very least we should acknowledge that instant judgement on every sin would have most of us in pretty constant pain, yelping like Pavlovian dogs to avoid hurt, but without inner transformation.”

(from For the Love of God:Volume 2, Feb 24)

Carson’s point about the absence of “inner transformation” is a crucial one here. But if anything the situation would be worse than he describes – because “most of us” should be “all of us” and rather than yelping in Pavlovian pain our lives would surely be ended?

When we have a correct view of ourselves and our own position in this world, then we won’t be demanding instantaneous judgement but we will be crying out for constant mercy. That is why the Gospel of Jesus Christ is such good news – one has stood in our place and taken God’s judgement on Himself so that we don’t have to – either now or on the last day.

What puzzles me, is what they mean by the phrase. It may well be a naive position, but surely in an elected democracy the ruling party should always be working for “the national good”? Is this a backhanded-dig to suggest that the previous government was not working for “the national good”? Or, (much less likely) is it a tacit admission that in the past they themselves have not always been working for “the national good”?

The idea seems to be that in a coalition you can’t have it ‘all your own way’ (in terms of your political beliefs) and so some new standard needs to be applied which both parties can agree on – hence, “the national good.” If this is the case, then one could argue that it is a tacit admission that single-party policies are not in “the national good.”

But theologically the interesting question is how you define “the national good” when you have taken God out of the picture. If there is no external, objective standard of “the good” then you are left at best with a subjective personal view. Which is why some people get upset by some decisions the government makes (which adversely affect them) and others about different policies. At the end of the day, the only real criterion in a God-less world is ‘what seems right to me’, or perhaps, ‘what seems right to the majority’.

The trouble is both me and the majority can be wrong. Where does that leave “the national good”?…

• Prayerlessness. I am saddened by how poor my prayer life has been: by how often I pray as an ‘add on’ rather than soaking everything I do in prayer; how quick I can be to criticise and how slow to pray; how shallow my prayers often seem. Please pray with me that I would become a man of prayer. I am seeking, with God’s help, to make changes both in my family life and in my ministry.
• Study-boundness. I have been surprised how easy I have found it to ‘hide away’ in the study. I am an extrovert and a people-lover – so I had expected to spend more time than I have actually managed out and about with people. I am convinced that the work in the study is vital – but I am also convinced that we need to be spending time with people to understand where they are coming from in order to apply the Bible more effectively. Please pray with me that I would get the balance right.
• Tendency to under/over-work. One of the greatest challenges as a pastor is that you manage your own time and that there are few ‘hard’ measurable outcomes (apart from a sermon here, and a talk there etc.). At the same time, the kind of tasks that we are involved in will all suck up as much time as is available – that goes for both study and for time with people. I seem to have oscillated between spending too much time working (and not enough time with family etc.) and not enough time working. Finding that middle path is challenging. Please pray with me both that I would understand my identity in Christ is not bound up in how much or how little I do, but also that I would have a godly desire to work hard as for the Lord.

I’m sure that I am not alone in these failings. Why not pray for your own pastor in each of these areas – that God would equip them and give them wisdom as they seek to shepherd His people.

But two of my friends have beaten me to it. Glen Scrivener highlights the importance of not being too earnest. He reckons the moralism is punctuated by fairly blunt sex gags and fails to deliver any real edge. He also makes a point which I heartily agree with – we must learn to take God very seriously, and ourselves not too seriously.

Stephen Watkinson in a Facebook Note (so you may not be able to read this link if you are not a friend? Not sure how FB works in this context) observes that the writer seems to know more about the Church of England than about God. He also bemoans the caricature of a ‘charismatic’ (in week 2) and the sub-Biblical virtue of doubt (by this I don’t think Stephen is advocating certainty on all things – but surely at the heart of Biblical Christianity are a number of very important things that we can be certain about.

All I would add to this, is that I love the title character’s prayers – which seem conversational and real and not ‘polished’ – which is surely how we should address our Heavenly Father. And there is also a degree of reality about the ‘on call 24/7′ nature of the ‘job’, and the variety of characters the church seems to attract – which is certainly true in every church I have been a part of. And there is some humour that arrives out of this truth.

A bit of a curate’s egg of comedy then?

Anyway, for anyone unfamiliar with HP, a boggart is a shape-shifting nasty that takes on the form of its intended victim’s worst fear. For our purposes, the key thing to know is that in order to defend oneself against a boggart, you need to use the spell “Riddikulus” and at the same time think of something very funny or ridiculous.

Now, in a sense, we become fearful of our idols – because we feel trapped by their power – we can feel there is nothing we can do to overcome their hold on us. But a very helpful strategy is to carefully examine that idol and to uncover the lie that it is promoting. As soon as we see how ridulous that lie is – the idol begins to lose something of its power over us.

Of course, we need to confront the lie with the corresponding truth of God’s word. And we cannot do any of this in our own strength or wisdom, but only in the Lord’s. But I think there may be a helpful tool in the armoury here.

I should note that these reflections arose out of a discussion of part of Tim Chester’s extremely helpful book You can change.

Some years ago I remember someone (John Piper?) speaking on this subject at the EMA and they made a helpful comparison to music lessons. The aim of a music lesson is not that a week later you can remember you need to press this finger in order to get that note. You actually want the knowledge to have become internalised – you don’t remember the process of learning it necessarily, but you will forever know that pressing this finger has that result.

Of course, there is nothing new under the sun. I have just finished reading, and thoroughly enjoyed Marsden’s awesome biography of Jonathan Edwards. Edwards, famously, is known for the rigour and ruthless logic of his preaching. But here is one of his comments on the subject:

The main benefit that is obtained by preaching is by impression made upon the mind at the time of it, and not by the effect that arises afterwards by a remembrance of what was delivered.

As Marsden comments – “Preaching, in other words, must first of all touch the affections.”

We must never lose sight of the fact that more is going on when we preach than just the transfer of information. We trust and pray that God is at work, by His Holy Spirit, who will be at work in our mind, our hearts and our will.