My adopted family

It is sad to be back in the situation I found myself in as recently as summer 2010, when this blog began - saying farewell to a church I have been serving as pastor. Once again there is the impression that the arrangement wasn't working out; once again the dismal feeling that nothing would change unless I made the first move. Last time the move was to temporary unemployment, this time early retirement.

Not that I have any wish to retire. It is simply an acknowledgement that pastorates are hard to come by and I am older than the age normally thought desirable. When I first heard God calling me to the ministry, though, I understood it to be for life. It was quite dramatic. I was in France for the third year of my degree course at Uni. You had the choice of studying at a university overseas supported by a grant, or taking a post as an English assistant at a school and being paid. It was a no-brainer: most of us went as English assistants. A staff member at the school where I worked the most hours was a practising Catholic. He invited me over for a meal and we must have talked about religion. I can't remember any of that conversation. All I can recall was him suddenly asking, "Why don't you become a pastor in your church?" Suddenly my eyes were opened to the lifelong challenge and interest it would prove to be! I have never looked back from that day to this. How can I now just lay it aside at 60?

Yet the depressing experience of having to leave a pastorate that has lost its point has come round once more. So again the last Sunday morning service comes round, with the goodbyes and the anxious enquiry, "Where will you go?" Well, first of all, to stay with my adopted family for a few days. That is my instinctive response when life changes happen. They will welcome me and give me the space I need to adjust and move on.

How come I have an adopted family? I have no living relatives left of any closeness. A child of my parents' advancing years, I was bereaved of my father in 1983 and my mother in 1997. All other kin have died out. Perhaps it is natural for a single man to seek out a household of kind folk who see him as part of the family. A farming couple in Oxfordshire, where I spent the longest and happiest days of my ministry, willingly fulfil that role. Theirs is a home from home for me, and a base from which to visit the numerous friends I still have in that area.

The adoption has never been formalised. No papers have been signed and it is even hard to know which of us has adopted the other. But "adoption" is a word we are all happy to use for the arrangement. Indeed, even the next generation of the family is supportive too, a state of affairs which I find deeply touching and a real blessing.

Adoption is a word with clear resonance in connection with the Christian's relationship to God's Son Jesus Christ. Galatians 4 compares children who have privileges in a Roman household with slaves who have no standing there. "God sent forth his Son ... to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, 'Abba! Father!' So you are no longer a slave, but a son, and if a son, then an heir through God" (Galatians 4:4-6 ESV).

To be able to claim the position of son or daughter with a heavenly Father who would otherwise be your implacable judge is a rare privilege. I glorify God that it is possible through the work of Jesus Christ on the cross. I also thank Him that being in a sense adopted into a human family is a constant reminder of what He has done for me. It gives me greater confidence and poise as I face the next uncertain chapter of my life.

A little knowledge ...

Those on the recent Spanish Experience trip with the Spanish Gospel Mission who brushed up on their knowledge of the local language made a wise choice. We travelled to the heartland of Spain, the high plateau in the centre of that large European country. Everyone assumes that Spanish people are so used to welcoming British tourists that they have all learned to speak English. True enough, many in the popular tourist destinations may well do so, but this is not the case in places off the beaten track.

As it turned out, I am not sure that any of the church pastors in the small group of churches we were visiting had fluent English. If you did not speak their language, you could not communicate with them – not directly, at any rate. To speak Spanish is therefore a huge advantage.

However, there is a snag. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. You may well learn how to talk to the Spanish, but that means they are going to talk back to you. Now Spanish is spoken very fast - and it is not the easiest language for a foreigner to follow! You have made your best effort to communicate only to be faced with a torrent of words that you have no chance of piecing together. You have no choice but to ask the speaker to repeat what he or she has just said. There is no guarantee even then that it will make sense the second time round.

There are places in the Bible, too, where a little knowledge backfires. In Acts 19 we read of Jewish magicians who tried to use the name of Jesus in order to exorcise demons. They had picked up that the name of Jesus was powerful, yet when they used it they found that they had bitten off more than they could chew. They were taught a very sharp and salutary lesson. I believe they are not alone. Many of the secret societies in this country who seek to play at, or play with, religion fail to understand the forces that they are messing around with as they do so.

Here is the story of the Jewish exorcists:

And God was doing extraordinary miracles by the hands of Paul, so that even handkerchiefs or aprons that had touched his skin were carried away to the sick, and their diseases left them and the evil spirits came out of them. Then some of the itinerant Jewish exorcists undertook to invoke the name of the Lord Jesus over those who had evil spirits, saying, "I adjure you by the Jesus whom Paul proclaims." Seven sons of a Jewish high priest named Sceva were doing this.

But the evil spirit answered them, "Jesus I know, and Paul I recognize, but who are you?" And the man in whom was the evil spirit leaped on them, mastered all of them and overpowered them, so that they fled out of that house naked and wounded. (ESV)

How do we counter the problem of having that little knowledge which is a dangerous thing? Well, obviously, to learn the basics well, but also to keep on learning. We need to make it our business to reach the point where we can move confidently yet humbly in the experiences of faith. To help us, we need to live, move and breathe the company of those who have been forged in the fires of experience and now walk closely with God. We do not idolise them, but we take note of what they say. They may be able to help us when we get our fingers burned in the religious contacts that we make. It is a shame to see anybody suffering bad experiences in a church for lack of knowledge of how to do the right thing. We need to be well practised in our skills and look for that day when everything will be transparent. On that day we shall lack no knowledge. All shall be clear to us. Best of all, everything about us will be clear to God.

For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known. 1 Corinthians 13:12

The face of Christ

What did the Lord Jesus look like? He came to earth to reflect to human sight and understanding something of the glory of God His Father. Clearly, the first part of the body you look at in order to glean something of a person’s inner nature is his or her face.

The apostle Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 4:6: "For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ."

This says a great deal, but it is not a photograph or even a painting. It does nothing to describe the facial features of our Saviour. Everybody is reassured by being able to see a face. Of course, faces can be misleading. I have known people whose features are wrinkled into a permanent frown but who are actually pleasant, gentle people.

But at least they give some clues. We may envy the disciples and many others who saw Jesus face to face. To my knowledge there are no contemporary portraits, unfortunately, that can show us the expression on God's human face. Yet even though the Lord Jesus has gone into heaven, we can by God's Spirit experience that face as though He were standing in front of us.

That face must have been expressive. I think of that time when mothers brought their children to Jesus and the disciples, well-meaning, tried to stop them. He said, "Let the little children come to me." You can imagine the kindly concern in His eyes at that point, taking note of young lives which were being ignored by the majority of adults around. Was there a flicker of annoyance and impatience in Jesus’ reaction at His followers’ misguided sense of what was the right thing to do?

Then many have spent devotional hours contemplating the face of the crucified One. It speaks of exhaustion, pain, resignation. Yet there is still supreme love there, and supreme concern. Jesus on the cross found it in Himself to commend His mother into the care of John.

I also dwell sometimes on the accounts of eye-contact between Jesus and those He is dealing with. One such incident is where the rich young ruler comes to Jesus to ask a question about eternal life. Jesus, looking at him, loved him. A look of encouragement, perhaps, seeking to draw forth every ounce of potential from the young man. Sadly, riches got in the way and the man could not commit himself. Not every look from Jesus melted stony hearts! But that look was important enough to get a mention in the Bible.

Also recorded in the Bible is that moment of great pathos when Peter denies Jesus and Jesus turns and looks at Peter. A painful moment, where Peter is marked out – for condemnation, it seems at first, but ultimately for recovery and leadership.

But there are dangers in attempting a portrayal of the Saviour. Early in the Ten Commandments comes the instruction that we should not make any graven image. With the coming of God in human form, the temptation to produce artistic representations increased. Sadly, ignorant people have worshipped these impressions, which often only reflect human prejudice. Pictures of Jesus in Victorian Sunday schools look very fair-haired and Anglo-Saxon featured. Then in Africa, you get a black Jesus, and in China, an Oriental one.

How may I best respond to the fact that in Jesus God had a human face? Surely by remembering that God didn’t just come to earth, He came to relate even to me.

I sometimes think about the cross,

and shut my eyes and try to see

the cruel nails and crown of thorns

and Jesus crucified ... for me.

Each mood and experience of my life calls forth an expression on His face. If I am loving, He is tender. If I am angry, He is pained. If I am hurt, He is sympathetic. If I am perplexed and overwhelmed, He is concerned. If I backslide, He is both sorrowing and anxious at the same time.

How glad I am that He is responsive and not distant! Somebody once talked about a colleague who had installed a hands-free speakerphone. You didn't have to lift the receiver to speak to the person on the other end. You could talk from anywhere in the room. But it sounded distant and detached.

"It was as though he was doing six other things at the same time as listening to me," my friend commented.

Jesus, Son of Man, looks and speaks straight at you, concentrating on you as though you were the only one there is.

Not really retiring

Rather sooner than planned, I have come to the conclusion that my time as Pastor at Bethany Evangelical Church has run its course. Over time, as a pastor of longer standing, you learn to read the signs in a way that a younger man might not. Others may counsel, “Hang in there, you can never tell what might develop,” but somehow you just know when you’re on a hiding to nothing and you learn to move on graciously. Failing any unexpected offers, early retirement now beckons for me, but not the end of worship and service.

On the surface it might seem as if retirement is a cut-off point where the routine of daily toil is let go of with a sigh of relief. I am studying Spanish while preparing for my brief stay in Spain with the Spanish Gospel Mission. In that language, the word for “retirement” looks like “jubilation”!

Whether a Spaniard would expect me to punch the air and dance for joy as soon as I wake up as a gentleman of leisure on the first of October, I don’t know. But surely every day is a cause of rejoicing in God, whether you’re retired or not. A friend who was later a missionary in China mentioned how each morning – whether that day was routine or special – she would exclaim on waking, “Praise the Lord!”

I thought how much more likely I was to awake with a groan instead. But my friend was surely right.

This is the day the Lord has made,

He calls the hours His own;

let heaven rejoice, let earth be glad,

and praise surround His throne.

Today He rose and left the dead,

and Satan’s empire fell;

today the saints His triumph spread,

and all His wonders tell.

Isaac Watts

Rejoicing – but retiring? An elderly Welsh preacher once shook my hand after a service and commented for no apparent reason, “You never retire in this business”. The apostle Paul would have agreed. He was daily driven by an inner compulsion to preach Christ, to travel for Christ, to serve Christ. He remarked in Galatians 2:20, “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” (ESV).

In some such way, I hope to find continuing fields of service. I shall bring to any new venture something I could not have done without my time at Bethany. In each fresh place I have always built on experience gained in the last. I am grateful to Bethany for furnishing me with a fund of experience over these two short years – some of it puzzling and challenging, some heartwarming and inspiring. May I be a good learner.

All I ask is that wherever I go I shall find others who are equally keen to learn. I’ve always sought to have those around me who are true learners, because that’s what Jesus did. Learners are known in the Bible as “disciples”. They would literally follow a teacher, picking up the verbal pearls of wisdom he dropped as he walked along the road. They would share his life and observe his manner of living as well as listen to his words. Followers of Jesus Christ, God incarnate on earth, could confidently expect inspired teaching and a perfect example. Some would drop out, not finding whatever it was they were after when they joined. Others would take their place. But always there would be a nucleus whom Jesus worked with particularly. He had plans for them: they would have the privilege of forming God’s new people to continue His work on earth and proclaim His resurrection and the salvation He offers.

Churches have in their midst people at all stages on the journey. Some are fringe people, some church attenders, some believers. But still today the Lord Jesus loves best to see disciples. Still today those are the ones that He can do the most with. Are you a disciple? It is a lifelong calling. God grant I shall never style myself Timothy Demore, disciple (retired).

Kamikaze Roundabout

Altering a structure that is already in place rather than starting from scratch and building something new often causes problems. That certainly seems to be the case with our local nightmare roundabout. Actually this ingenious piece of road engineering works well enough most of the time. But many motorists feel as though they are taking their lives in their hands when they attempt to navigate its cramped confines and its five bewildering exits – hence the popular label “Kamikaze Roundabout”.

The roundabout is now to be made more user-friendly. However, it seems that matters will become worse before they improve. A bewildering forest of traffic cones has appeared. What was once a predictably routine nightmare has become a constantly changing and even more nightmarish situation for the time being.

After the Great Flood God promised never to destroy all life on earth again (Genesis 8:21). However, the human race again needed complete reconstruction further along in history. We read in Jeremiah 31:31-34 how God announced a new covenant with His people:

"The time is coming," declares the Lord, "when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and with the house of Judah. It will not be like the covenant I made with their forefathers when I took them by the hand to lead them out of Egypt, because they broke my covenant, though I was a husband to them," declares the Lord. "This is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after that time," declares the Lord. "I will put my law in their minds and write it on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be my people. No longer will a man teach his neighbour, or a man his brother, saying, 'Know the Lord,' because they will all know me, from the least of them to the greatest," declares the Lord."For I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more." (NIV)

Our Daily Bread meditation writer Julie Ackerman Link penned a reflection on this that made me think straight away of Kamikaze Roundabout!

“Here in Michigan we joke that we have two seasons: winter and road construction. Harsh winters damage road surfaces, so repair crews begin their work as soon as the ice melts and the ground thaws. Although we call this work “construction,” much of what they do looks like “destruction.” In some cases, simply patching holes is not an option. Workers have to replace the old road with a new one.

“That’s what it can feel like when God is at work in our lives. Throughout the Old Testament, God told His people to expect some major renovation on the road between Him and them (Isa. 62:10-11; Jer. 31:31). When God sent Jesus, it seemed to the Jews as if their way to God was being destroyed. But Jesus wasn’t destroying anything. He was completing it (Matt. 5:17). The old way paved with laws became a new way paved with the sacrificial love of Jesus.

“God is still at work replacing old ways of sin and legalism with the way of love that Jesus completed. When He removes our old ways of thinking and behaving, it may feel as if everything familiar is being destroyed. But God is not destroying anything; He is building a better way. And we can be confident that the end result will be smoother relationships with others and a closer relationship with Him.”

“Upheaval often precedes spiritual progress,” the meditation ends. I say “Amen”. I am a creature of habit, but give me upheaval any day if it will bring me closer to my Saviour.

Night and Day

In Hebrew thought, in the Old Testament of our Bibles, each day begins at sunset. This seems strange to us. Perhaps, though, it is no more odd than our usual arrangement in the West. We are fast asleep when day starts at midnight and only wake – if we are fortunate enough to be good sleepers – when a fair few hours of the day are already spent and gone. Even so, to have a day that begins as night falls must change one’s perspective on life.

The eminent 19th-century Baptist preacher Charles Haddon Spurgeon wrote a meditation on Genesis 1:5 (“And the evening and the morning were the first day”) that gave me much pause to ponder.

Spurgeon explains that the fact of darkness coming first in the Hebrew “day” makes a spiritual point for us. “Observe that the evening comes first. [In our spiritual natures] we are darkness first in order of time, and the gloom is often first in our mournful apprehension, driving us to cry out in deep humiliation, ‘God be merciful to me, a sinner.’ The place of the morning is second, it dawns when grace overcomes nature.”

Spurgeon also points out that the word we use to describe a 24-hour period is “day”. It includes both darkness and light, “and yet the two together are called by the name that is given to the light alone!” This too corresponds exactly to our spiritual experience. “In every believer there is darkness and light, and yet he is not to be named a sinner because there is sin in him, but he is to be named a saint because he possesses some degree of holiness.”

This should be an enormous comfort to those who wonder how God can regard them as children of His when there is so much sin and spiritual darkness still in them. Just as the day takes its name not from the darkness but from the daylight, so the word of God treats believers as if they were full of light, as indeed they will be before long. “You are called the child of light, though there is darkness in you still. You are named after what is the predominating quality in the sight of God, which will one day be the only principle remaining.”

How supremely encouraging this is! On the one hand, all our spiritual darkness as sinners is intolerable and disgusting to God, to be shunned and rejected. Yet by His mercy in Christ God matches us up with the “sacred, high, eternal noon” which is the condition of things when we are finally in His presence.

The sun shall be no more

your light by day,

nor for brightness shall the moon

give you light;

but the Lord will be your everlasting light,

and your God will be your glory.

Your sun shall no more go down,

nor your moon withdraw itself;

for the Lord will be your everlasting light,

and your days of mourning shall be ended.

Isaiah 60:19-20 ESV

Thank God for His patience in treating us this way. Let us resolve to honour Him by banishing the remaining darkness in

our lives as far as we can!