Tuesday, July 26, 2016

a day in delhi

Make it yellow. That is my advice.

If you have just a day in this historic city with so many sights, then spend it on the Yellow Metro line. Check into the simple, central and adequate YMCA accommodation in Jai Singh Rd. Get a good sleep. Breakfast at 7am - and out the door at 7.30am after you've brushed your teeth.

Take the short walk to the Patel Chowk Metro station, buy your daylong Metro pass for INR150 (GBP1.5), and head south to the Qutb Minar station. 30 minutes. Delhi's finest is visible from the train station as you disembark. The view of my happy place rushes the adrenalin through me.

Maybe this is a good time to remember William Dalrymple's comments about Delhi (in The Last Mughal): "... of the great cities of the world, only Rome, Istanbul, and Cairo can even begin to rival Delhi for the sheer volume and density of historic remains ... during a six hundred year period climaxing with the 18th century, Delhi had been the greatest city between Constantinople and Canton ... sometimes it seems as if no other great city of the world is less loved, or less cared for." (8, 24)

A 10min ride in an auto rickshaw and you are at the Qutb Minar - in the cool of the morning and long before the tourists. Dawn to dusk opening hours. Great. Built in the 12th century, the Qutb was the tallest structure in the world for many decades. Wander around the grounds for an hour and then it is back to the station and the Yellow ride north to the Jor Bagh station. The day is still young. Head north a few hundred metres and then turn right into Lodi Rd. The Lodi Gardens will appear on your left within minutes. Enjoy a walk, either clockwise or anticlockwise, through this park. Ignore the putrid water in the lake and it is rather nice, with its ancient rubbled tombs dotted here and there. A favoured location for photo shoots...

On the way back to Jorbagh station, pop across the road into Safdarjang's Tomb (you can't miss it) for a quick look. Then stay on that side of the road for a long walk south, up and over an iconic Delhi fly-over (Delhi's answer to every congested intersection, it seems), and into Dilli Haat. State-by-state, shop-by-shop, here are India's products and cuisine all in one place. Linger for lunch and a little shopping and then head for the INA Market station next door. Aim for somewhere between 1pm-2pm.

Head north on Yellow and the third station will be Udyog Bhavan. Get off here, emerge outside, and take the short walk to the next station, Central Secretariat. This will take you across Raj Path, the 2km dead-straight road leading from the President's residence (Rashtrapati Bhavan) down to India Gate. The Republic Day Parade on January 26 travels this route, with hundreds of thousands people in attendance. Now that is a sight for the imagination. At other times of the year the open spaces are a gathering point for locals as twilight nears, with picnics and cricket games aplenty.

Back in Yellow and now we travel further north, under the central city, and emerge in the heart of Old Delhi at the Chandni Chowk station. This is a different world. Every sense in overload, all the time. Soak it up. People everywhere. It takes a bit to find Chandni Chowk (the street). The easiest way is to ask for directions to Haldirams, a restaurant, and then sit there enjoying an afternoon snack of Delhi street food (chaat), while you plan your visit. This was the main business district for Delhi for an age (particularly through the 19th century). Off the main thoroughfare are all sorts of markets (spice, silver, textile etc) where it is fun to get lost and found. As a child I had bad dreams about getting lost, but not found here. As a parent I once got my family lost here - and while never admitting it, I did eventually get found out. At one end is the Red Fort (not enough time to go inside on this day), presiding over everything. It is from this vantage point that the Prime Minister speaks on Independence Day each year. Down towards the Red Fort is a Hindu temple, a Sikh gurdwara, a Jain temple - and even the Central Baptist Church (established in 1814; quite possibly the oldest church in North India).

Add in the Jama Masjid, one of the largest mosques anywhere, and you have quite the gathering place for the religions of the world. Sadly, the Jama Masjid is one of the unfriendliest places in Delhi, with tourists conned into having to pay to go inside when it is meant to be free. People always seem gruff and rude at the entrances. Nevertheless it is worth going inside and climbing a minaret with its expansive views - for example, looking across to the Red Fort nearby.

Depending on how long you have loitered, darkness will be closing in. It is time to go Yellow again. If you are comfortable with cycle rickshaws (with a man doing the cycling hard work; I always pay them twice what they ask), then catch one from the Jama Masjid to the Chawri Bazaar station. It is quite the ride. Two stops back to Rajiv Chowk station (Connaught Place, the columned circular space at the centre of Delhi). Wander around the concentric circles, with plenty of restaurants from which to choose. Eventually, make your way to Jan Path - at '6 o'clock' from the circles - and meander down through the shops lining the road. When you reach the intersection with Tolstoy Marg (with the multi-story Cottage Industries Emporium on one side ahead of you and the little Tibetan shops on the other side), turn right and you are on the very road that takes you back to the YMCA.

A day for the ages, all on Yellow. Just do it.

nice chatting


If you do happen to have a second day, then make Humayun's Tomb a priority. Every time I come to Delhi, it has been improved in some way.

Saturday, July 09, 2016

lyrics for living 9 (grant us wisdom, grant us courage)

The world is a mess.

This virus of religious extremism is spreading, with Turkey and Bangladesh being among the newer arrivals to our headlines (& let's not forget those who never receive that focus!). Poverty. It is difficult to see how the global refugee crisis can be resolved. Inequality. The blind spot in the USA over guns is unfathomable. Polarization. Democracy seems to be decaying, less able to produce leaders that can be admired. Big money buys big power - everywhere. Over-consumption. The popularity of Trump in the USA, Brexit in the UK, and Pauline Hanson in Australia all seems so odd. What on earth is going on?

Right now, the mess seems to be accompanied by a peculiar brand of badness, madness and sadness.

In recent months I have found myself singing, repeatedly, a little refrain that I have not sung in public worship for decades:
Grant us wisdom, Grant us courage - for the facing of this hour. 
Wisdom. Courage. At an experiential level these qualities became so real to me when I started as the principal of a seminary. It surprised me, after just a few weeks, how much wisdom and courage was needed every day. In more recent years, when interceding for others, it has become commonplace to plead for wisdom and courage. It is like a default setting (along with grace and patience). So many intercessory situations come back to these two. And now, as I look out into our world, seeing and feeling its mess, this couplet is still with me.

So I journeyed back to the original hymn. Written in 1930, in the midst of the Depression and between the two World Wars, by Harry Emerson Fosdick (a theologically liberal leader whose profile, from a base in New York City, was not dissimilar in scope to today's evangelical New Yorker, Timothy Keller). Notwithstanding Kevin deYoung's stinging criticism of this as a 'hymn not worth singing' because it has a theologically dubious line in it - I think it is worth singing, with a little edit of the words. Let's take a look and listen:

God of grace and God of glory,
on thy people pour thy power;
crown the ancient church's story;
bring its bud to glorious flower.
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,
for the facing of thls hour,
for the facing of thls hour.

This opening stanza takes me back to John Stott's Sermon on the Mount. The book is not with me, but in the section on salt/light, he says something like "when you see the world's mess, don't get stuck into the world, rather ask 'where is the church?' because it is meant to be the salt and light that stops the rot and shows the way". To me it seems that 'on thy people pour your power ... bring its bud to glorious flower' is exactly how we should be praying.

Lo! the hosts of evil round us,
scorn thy Christ, assail his ways!
From the fears that long have bound us,
free our hearts to love and praise.
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,
for the living of these days,
for the living of these days.

Again - so poignant. Evil encircling us? Fear binding us? Christ scorned and assailed? These are the deep things which paralyse us. It is freedom that we need, a freedom to love and to praise. 

Heal thy children's warring madness,
bend our pride to thy control;
shame our wanton, selfish gladness,
rich in things and poor in soul.
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,
lest we miss thy kingdom's goal,
lest we miss thy kingdom's goal.

If we want an exposition of the mess, this verse captures it - does it not?! There is a healing, a bending, and a shaming that needs to be done at so many levels and with so many people (starting with me!).

Set our feet on lofty places;
gird our lives that they may be
armoured with all Christlike graces,
pledged to set all captives free.
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,
that we fail not them nor thee,
that we fail not them nor thee!

It is the change in mood that impacts me here. The opening upbeat prayer to the 'God of grace and the God of glory' is followed by two dreary verses that plumb the depths of the mess. Nibbling at lament. But here the eyes, and voices, are lifted again in hope-filled steeling prayer. I love it. They give me the words I want at this moment in the hymn: setting and girding, armouring and pledging. 

Save us from weak resignation
to the evils we deplore;
let the search for thy salvation
be our glory evermore.
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,
serving thee whom we adore,
serving thee whom we adore.

Together with Kevin deYoung, my theological knickers could get in a twist over 'let the search for thy salvation' - but why reject an entire hymn when altering a couple of words will suffice? It seems a bit silly. For example, I could live with 'let the Joy of thy salvation be our glory evermore'. 

As with most of the hymns in this series on 'lyrics for living', the issue is more about finding a tune that works in a contemporary setting. 'C'mon musicians - can you do something with this one?' Here is the best version I could find (one which isn't drowned out by a blaring organ ... not my favourite instrument, it must be said ... sorry, Dad and Grandpa, who were both organists):

How I'd love to wake up tomorrow, go to church, be greeted with this hymn in the service - and just 'let it rip' from deep within me, singing my little heart out. But it hasn't happened once in the last 30 years and so it ain't gonna happen tomorrow. 

nice chatting

Sunday, July 03, 2016

getting out of the way

CNN does it. Amanpour and Anderson. Blitzer and Burnett. Cooper and Church. And that is just the ABCs - it keeps going all the way to Zakaria. The BBC does it as well, starting with Alagiah and Amroliwala. And please, please don't get me started on Fox News...

When these channels take a break in the middle of a news broadcast, the viewer is subjected to a steady stream of slick, short promotions for their own news programmes, with a focus on the host. Those set aside to point the way to the news become the news themselves. News readers are recast as news makers. They are portrayed as courageous, attractive, articulate and wise. How can we not be impressed by them - and in so doing, help birth a celebrity before our very eyes?! And yet watch them do their core job - interviewing - and it is uncanny how often they talk too much and give their opinion too often. They intrude too far into the story. The window on the world they are meant to provide easily becomes obstructed by a mirror. I wish they'd get out of the way.

An odd variation of this phenomenon lies in my home country of New Zealand. Again and again, I visit online news websites at home (like NZ Herald or Stuff) - only to find news readers sitting there in the headlines for no real reason at all. Hosking. Henry. Barry. It is embarassing. What are they doing there? I don't really want to be a Kiwi in these moments. Earlier this week came a new low point (and possibly the source of this post!) ... as this piece was the blaring headline on the NZ Herald home page. Goodness deary me?! What is going on?! And don't tell me it is a trivial issue. Over time the media is quietly massaging the mind with silly vacuous messages likes this one and the appetite for real news, serious news diminishes. Moreover, in loving to look at itself in the mirror like this, there is both a betrayal of their calling and the small matter of being an accomplice in establishing narcissism, with all its attendant complexities, as a new norm for society.

What a different story emerges when it comes to presenting the news of Jesus Christ. The Bible will condone none of the nonsense above. It has such a diverse vocabulary to describe the vocation of announcing and hosting and broadcasting and heralding and anchoring the (good) news. Stewards. Servants. Heralds. Witnesses. It goes on and on. What do these words all have in common? The news reader never becomes the news maker. The host never becomes the focus. None of these identities is about drawing attention to themselves. There is no mirror in the room. The impulse for self-denial eclipses the narcissistic one. As I heard Emmanuel, from Burundi, express it so eloquently: 'the mouth may be ours, but the message is God's.'
A Christian communicator has to learn that he (sic) cannot present himself as a great preacher and teacher if he also wants to present God as a great God and Christ as a great Saviour. (Packer)
Humility is not a state to be struggled for and achieved; it is not so much diminishing our self-importance as it is simply standing next to Jesus ... This towering Jesus, by sheer contrast, will always displace our self-importance. (Miller)
Humility is not thinking less of myself - but thinking of myself less. (Keller)
He must increase; I must decrease. (John the Baptist)
The most privileged and moving experience a preacher can have is when, in the middle of the sermon, a strange hush descends upon the congregation. The sleepers have woken up, the coughers have stopped coughing, and the fidgeters are sitting still. No eyes or minds are wandering. Everybody is attending, though not to the preacher. For the preacher is forgotten, and the people are face to face with the living God, listening to his still, small voice ... (then, quoting Billy Graham) 'I have often felt like a spectator, standing on the side, watching God at work. I have felt detached from it. I wanted to get out of the way as much as I could and let the Spirit take over.' (John Stott)
nice chatting


Sunday, June 26, 2016

excellent preaching

It is not every day that an entire book is read on a drive to the airport. Three realities conspired together to make it possible. The book was 73 pages. The airport was on the other side of Bangkok. I am an introvert and after eight days of lots of people, it was good to lose myself in a book for a couple of hours...

While on the subject of airports, this relates to the central metaphor of Craig Bartholomew's Excellent Preaching (Lexham, 2015). The book is about 'landing the plane' in preaching, working hard at application, contextualisation and worldview.
How do we listen to Scripture so that we can preach the Bible for all its worth in today's world? ... How do we land the plane whose cargo is the living Word of God so that it is present and received as such by our congregations? (6).
The metaphor extends easily to the captain of the plane (the Spirit, not the preacher), a destination, and 'a view from arrivals':
... When we gather around Christ, he stands with his face to the world! The view at arrivals is centred on God, but precisely because this is its center it takes in the vista of the whole of creation (20). 
Preach the Bible well and it takes you into the world because 'the Bible tells the true story of the whole world' (21), not just the church. It goes to work at the level of worldview - 'the deep, orientational level' (34) of our lives. This is not easy because 'it is exceedingly hard to get a critical grip on one's own culture' (56) as it is what is normal for us, like water for the fish. But preaching is about finding - and living in - a new 'normal'. And so for Bartholomew, in preaching, 'we land the plane successfully when we preach the message shaped by the intersection of two trajectories: the intersection of the telos, or message of the text, and the context in which and to which we are preaching' (38).

This did my heart good! Seeing this emphasis on what I have tended to refer to as 'preaching worldviewishly' - and it is pleasing to have this imagery from Bartholomew to utilise. You know, some authors are seminal, while others are more synthetic. Seminal authors are the ones who come up with something original, eventually finding their way into the footnotes of the synthetic authors. I'm not sure there are enough hours in the day to give too much time to authors gifted with the synthesis of other peoples' ideas. Bartholomew is in the seminal camp. For example, have you seen his commentary on Ecclesiastes? An amazing piece of scholarship at the intersection of text and context.
In my view the church is the primary place where God's Word is to be received, so that the brief message quickly prepared, and barely noticeable amid the rest of the service, is an aberration of the high calling of the preacher ...
In my view, we biblical scholars are like those behind the scenes while preachers are at the front lines. Both roles are indispensable for the great work to which we are called, and we need a healthy partnership between the two. Nowadays, alas, it is unusual for scholars to take preaching seriously, and it is too often unusual for preachers to take scholarship seriously. The result is that both settle for mediocrity, whereas together we need to strive for excellence (53).
Very helpfully, Bartholomew gives some examples of 'landing the plane' (using specific biblical texts: Galatians 1.10-2.21; Genesis 1.16; Exodus 20.3; and Ephesians 6.10-20) before closing the book with six 'practical ways forward':

1. Begin with repentance. 'Preachers too easily become familiar with the holy act of preaching, and we need to repent and commit ourselves to preaching the Bible for all it is - and we are - worth' (66).

2. Prioritize preaching in pastoral ministry. 'It will never be the only thing we do, but space must be carved out to prioritize it. We need to vow to avoid mediocrity and to commit to using all the tools at our disposal to work hard and prayerfully ...' (67)

3. Get all the help we can in 'understanding our world and our particular congregation so we can repeatedly land the plane in our particular context' (67).

4. Alert our congregations repeatedly that 'reception of the Word is a communal task' (67). The ministries of the church must be evaluated for their contribution to advancing biblical literacy.

5. Recognise the task is bigger than any one of us. 'What is advocated in this book - excellent preaching - will involve costly preaching ... Biblical preaching will nurture God's people, but it will also meet with resistance, especially as we bring the idols of our day into focus' (68).

6. Immerse our preaching in prayer and a profound dependence on the Spirit. 'The work of preaching is the work of the Spirit, a work he delights to engage in' (68).

nice chatting


PS: Don't forget Appendix B: An Expanded Apostles' Creed (70-71) in which he adds, substantially, to the original Creed in order to convey better the fullness of the biblical storyline. Very clever - and helpful.

Saturday, June 25, 2016

beyond resourcing

I settled into my seat. Some sleep on the overnight plane meant that some sleep on the midday bus was not going to happen. So I leaned back and zoned-out before the upcoming conference captured me. But gradually three conversations, from further back in the bus, began to come into focus.

I listened. In each conversation, an American accent was present. Having been around Americans all my life, it was as I expected. The voices were kind and warm and animated - but on this occasion, in each conversation, they were doing 90% of the talking, as they shared about their ministry. When we reached the venue and entered into the rhythm of sessions and meals, something similar happened. The room was ringed with tables for organisations, mostly from America (there were very few Europeans present), manned by generous and servant-hearted people committed to resourcing the (majority world) passer-by. Over meal times, I watched a repeating pattern. A few pleasantries initiated by the resourcer. 'Tell me about your family'. 'What is the ministry in which you are involved?' ... politely, as you'd expect, the same questions were returned to them by the (majority world) person. Then, as if by some signal, the 'play button' is pressed, and out flows a prolonged explanation of the resource they are offering the world, accompanied by a fair amount of promotion.

Servant-hearted, generosity-inspired resourcing packaged in a warm, kind, animated, verbose(!) person.

Who could ever be critical of that combo? I will certainly stop short of doing so. But is that it? Is that what characterizes global missional interactions in the 21st century? It disturbed me that I could not hear other voices on that bus. It disturbed me that at the organisational tables and around the meal tables, while the interest in the 'other' was genuine, it was a bit token - and it seemed to be the means by which to reach a greater end. Maybe that is unkind. My apologies. But it meant that for the eight days of the conference I was asking myself, 'Is servant-hearted, generosity-inspired resourcing enough?'

My conclusion? I don't think it is.

The premise behind what I saw and heard seemed to be that there are some of us who have something to give and there are others among us who have something to receive. Really?! That is flawed. That feels like a softer colonialism to me. My renewed call to global mission in my late-40s was built around 1 Corinthians 12 being writ globally, not just locally. It changed my life. It is about valuing the peoples of the world with the dignity, the equality and the interdependency which seeps into that passage. Everyone has something to give. Everyone has something to receive. Everyone is indispensable. Everyone who has been dishonoured is shown a 'special honour'. Yes, there is a need to move beyond a mere resourcing mentality and on towards genuine partnership together.

We all need to be careful - and on this occasion, particularly the Americans who featured so much at this conference. As a senior leader in Asia expressed to me, 'Americans always seem to have the answer'. And oftentimes the answer is of a scale which those at the 'grassroots' in the majority world can find difficult to engage. Like the guy who finished his talk with a sequence of photos of multi-million dollar church buildings he had built as a mark of his effective ministry. Really? This stuff ends up being (possibly) inspirational, without having that more significant aspirational quality. This is the quality that will make it feel accessible. This is the quality that will have people say, 'Ahh, maybe God could do this in me and through me?! Yes, he can.' As I say to our facilitators who preach in our training seminars, 'Don't wow people with your most impressive sermon; rather, wow them with your most accessible sermon'. Inspiration is over-rated. Feeding aspiration is the key. We want people to go away saying. 'I could preach that sermon' - not 'I could never preach that sermon'.

Sometimes the answers are a lot closer to home than America, or somewhere else in the West. Sometimes partnership will mean receiving 'the answers' from elsewhere in the majority world. I love being part of seminars and forums and consultations that enable this West-less interchange to take place among our trainers and coordinators - like these photos suggest:

Samoeurn (Cambodia) with Alex (Peru)
Dil (Guyana) with Richard (South Sudan)
At this conference I was disappointed that effective indigenous, grassroots ministries in the majority world did not live more in the limelight. For example, take the two in the photo below: Devender, with the School of Biblical Teaching in North India, and Qaiser, with the Open Theological Seminary in Pakistan. Remarkable stories - but also accessible, aspirational stories that would have assisted the multitude of people, at the conference, living and working in similar settings with similar challenges.

With Devender (India) and Qaiser (Pakistan)
So it is about moving beyond one-way resourcing to partnership where things flow both ways and where we feed each other's aspirations by keeping the currency being exchanged in the partnership accessible. The way to get started? Maybe it begins not so much with the generous desire to give resources, but with the humble desire to share friendship. Maybe there needs to be friendship before resourcing just as there needs to be partnership beyond resourcing...

nice chatting


Sunday, June 19, 2016

icons past and present

I don't know my icons - but I am willing to learn from my friends.

So when Riad finished his devotion (on living with Habakkuk amidst the Syrian crisis) with an old Coptic/Egyptian icon, I leaned forward in my chair. A painting on wood. From Egypt in the 5th century. Jesus is standing alongside Abbot Menas, the leader of a local monastery. In the Louvre, where it lives now, it is known as Christ and His Friend (Christ et son ami).

Riad's observation is that Menas looks pale and exhausted, but with the arm of his friend around him, he is strengthened to face the world again and his calling to bless others. I've kept looking at the icon ever since. In Jesus I see a gentle love and a calm authority. One arm is around his friend and the other arm is around the Bible. A picture of the comprehensive caring ministry. Jesus is not facing towards Menas, lost in Menas' woes - but instead he is an 'alongsider', standing with him in his troubles, as they face a troubled world together.
I no longer call you servants ... instead, I have called you friends (John 15.15).
The day before Riad introduced me to this icon, Mark showed me another one.

It was in the Church of St Nicholas in Demre (Turkey). Once again, about the 5th century. Known as the burial place of St Nicholas. In the peak season it is visited by 60 bus loads of Russian tourists each day, coming to pay respects to a father of their Orthodox church. St Nicholas' life went on to gather worldwide fame, across timezones and centuries, as Santa Claus. That story didn't interest me one whit. The exquisite, but partial, murals and mosaics and frescoes interested me far more ... but as I exited the church, Mark asked me, 'Did you see the icon out the back?'. He showed it to me on his camera. I rushed back in to find it. This is what interested me the most.

This icon may be found in a 5th century church, but it is far from ancient. It is a few scratches on some relatively new concrete out the back. None of the tourist guidebooks mention it. And yet it speaks, as much as that icon in the Louvre, to those who linger to look and listen.

Psst - hey, tourist - we are still here. These years may not be the glory years when we were the celebrated cradle for the faith that bears Christ's name. Those people may have tried to exterminate us more than once. But we are still here, out the back, scratching out a witness to Jesus Christ, God's Son and Saviour - and Our Friend.
nice chatting


Sunday, June 12, 2016

mission, evangelism, dialogue, salvation, conversion

In trying hard to include everything, a point can be reached where it becomes hard to exclude anything. Put a handful of topics on the table for discussion - mission, evangelism, dialogue, salvation, conversion - and it won't be long before many of the older liberals (in the 1980s) and the younger postmoderns (in the 2010s), wanting to be authentic Christians, are experiencing authentic anxiety.

Not so long ago I was staying at a Christian ecumenical centre. A beautiful campus dotted with all sorts of signs, from the weird to the wonderful ... and with those signs, the bad ol' days battling the more liberal brand of ecumenicity as a young Baptist pastor came flooding back to me.

What was all that about?

One of my issues with that ecumenicity (in the 1980s) - together with some of the younger, cooler postmoderns (in the 2010s) - is that they go to the Gospels looking for love, but lose sight of some of the truth along the way. For example, they are big fans of the Jesus who said that love is the greatest commandment, but when it comes to Jesus saying, "I am the way, the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father except through me" - they run and hide, lest they be considered exclusive. For them, nothing could be worse than being exclusive. They are big fans of hammering the church in Ephesus (and today) for losing its first love and not being inclusive enough - but, keep going, folks. There are six more churches in Revelation 2 & 3. What happened to hammering the church in Thyatira (and today) for not being exclusive enough? This ain't no buffet-line where you pick and choose the bits you like - and leave the bits you don't like.

This is why I've tended to see evangelicalism to be the true ecumenism because it is transparently committed to finding the biblical tension in inclusion and exclusion, in loving what Jesus loves and hating what Jesus hates ... that is, until a few misguided Americans changed the meaning of the word 'evangelical' by over-politicizing it and right-wingifying it. What a sadness this has been. Now the word is damaged goods...

But the words on the table do not change.

Mission. Evangelism. Dialogue. Salvation. Conversion.
Every generation needs to engage them - biblically.

In the 1970s, John Stott did so in his little Christian Mission in the Modern World. Now, in the 2010s, in a publishing masterstroke, the same book has been 'updated and expanded' - and doubled, effectively - by having Chris Wright contribute chapters on the very same topics. The invitation was 'to relieve the (earlier) book of some of its more dated material and to add some reflections of my own on each of the chapters' (12). It works well.

I was reading this book while I was reading those signs at the ecumenical centre. It provided quite the conversation in my head! Sure, sometimes the book can feel like the Lausanne Covenant (with John Stott, as its chief architect) is playing ping-pong with the Cape Town Commitment (with Chris Wright, as its chief architect) - but there is no denying its usefulness (or, the usefulness of these two creed-like documents). It remains a book for close study - personally, in home groups, in classrooms - by those who wish to have God's call to their vocation be marked by a gracious and courageous biblical faithfulness.

My generation needed that book by Stott so desperately. It fed us. It settled us. It focused us. It emboldened us within the ecumenical milieu. Now my children's generation desperately needs 'the updated and expanded' version - but do they realise it? That is the question. It would feed them. It would settle them. It would focus them. It would embolden them within the postmodern milieu.

nice chatting


Sunday, June 05, 2016

langham logic 1.0

The Langham Logic, as it was articulated by John Stott, was too compelling for me to ignore. I first heard it expressed in 2008, as the rationale for the ministry of Langham Partnership:
God wants His church to grow up;
God's church grows up through God's word;
God's word comes, primarily, through preaching.
And so the question to ask is 'how can we raise the standards of biblical preaching?
I am a believer. Under God's hand - and at His direction - I am quite content to give my life for this cause. But that must be Langham Logic 2.0 because yesterday I encountered a longer, fuller and earlier version in Ian Shaw's chapter, 'John Stott and the Langham Scholarship Programme' (in this volume, 314-5).
God wants his church to grow into maturity in Christ.
Nothing leads people into this Christian maturity like the Word of God.
The Word of God reaches people mainly through faithful biblical preaching.
Biblical preaching/teaching are the primary God-appointed responsibility of pastors.
Pastors catch (or lose) their vision for preaching in the seminary (theological college).
The seminary exerts its influence on students primarily through its teaching staff.
Seminary teachers need to combine academic excellence with personal godliness. 
Later, 'We long to see the world's seminaries staffed by godly evangelical scholars,               so that the world's pulpits may be occupied by faithful preachers of the Word of God'              (John Stott, in 1998; see also here).
Biblical preaching and theological education. Pastors and scholars.
In their most consecrated form, they are ever so strategic.

It is a great chapter by Shaw, as he tells the history of the Langham Scholars programme. I never knew, for example, that until 1998 all USA-based Langham Scholars studied at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School (TEDS) - where I studied in the early 1980s and where I heard John Stott give his classic message on the call to pastoral ministry from 1 Corinthians 4 (listen to it here on the All Souls' website).

Shaw quotes Stott quoting HCG Moule: 'Beware of an untheological devotion and of an undevotional theology' ... before including a Stottian warning to scholars returning home 'an academic success but a spiritual failure, a 'doctor' (qualified to teach) but no longer a 'disciple', possessed by no new vision, power, or holiness' (319).

With Chris Wright and John Stott - in Sydney, in 2002 - on Stott's final visit to Australia.
[NB: This photo was taken at Sydney Missionary & Bible College where Stott was just about to preach to their community. He preached the very same message on 1 Corinthians 4 which I heard at TEDS exactly twenty years earlier and I remembered large chunks of it. Then he moved into a Q&A session with the students where the 'growth without depth' story, which I have re-told in so many places (and in a post just last month) and which became so instrumental in my call into Langham, took place].

nice chatting


Friday, May 27, 2016

the psalms

A gracious little conspiracy has drawn me back to the Psalms...

It started with a comment in an email from a friend battling cancer. She testified to the way a line from Peterson's The Message was strengthening her: 'I've pitched my tent in the land of hope'. Isn't that beautiful? I tracked it down. It is not in the Psalms itself - but in a quotation from the Psalms used in Acts 2.

Then it was the conversation between Eugene Peterson and Bono on the Psalms. Arriving through social media one morning, it couldn't be more anti-social media. A slowness. A softness. A stillness. A sadness. A seriousness. It warranted multiple viewings and that is exactly what it has received.

In replenishing my copy of Dietrich Bonhoeffer's Life Together, I soon realised that I had received two books for the price of one. Included in the single cover was his Prayerbook of the Bible in which Bonhoeffer 'desired to retrieve the Psalms as the prayerbook of Jesus ... like children learning to speak the language of their parents, the Psalms are God's way of enabling people to speak in the language of Jesus' (144-145). This sliver of a book has the makings of a sermon series in his classification of the Psalms: creation, law, the history of salvation, the Messiah, the church, life, suffering, guilt, enemies, and the end.

But the sermon series can wait, as I headed back to The Message myself. I decided to read through the Psalms, slowly and prayerfully, collecting phrases and verses for specific friends and putting them on bookmarks for them (with Barby, the laminator, to assist me).

This is not my first foray into the writings of Eugene PetersonThe Message, or the Psalms (and Bono, for that matter) - but here I want simply to gather my favourite phrases from this exercise (in no particular order):

Blessed are the people who know the passwords of praise (Psalm 89).

His love is the wonder of the world (Psalm 31).

We're watching and waiting, holding our breath, awaiting your word of mercy (Psalm 123).

His love never runs out (Psalm 107).

How blessed are those whose lives become roads you travel (Psalm 84).

I'm striding in the presence of God, alive in the land of the living (Psalm 116).

Your blessing clothes your people (Psalm 3).

God puts the fallen on their feet again (Psalm 147).

In his largeness, nothing gets lost (Psalm 36).

You wisely and tenderly lead me, and then you bless me (Psalm 73).

And now, God, do it again - bring rain to our drought-stricken lives (Psalm 126).

nice chatting


Wednesday, May 25, 2016

one church in izmir

The first essay I ever wrote at theological college was on Polycarp, Bishop of Smyrna (now Izmir).

Do you know the story?

Born in 69 AD, Polycarp is understood to have been a disciple of the Apostle John himself. It was this same John who ordained him as Bishop of Smyrna. Polycarp is famous for being an early Christian martyr, committed to burn at the stake in a Roman amphitheatre.
As the flames were lit, he lifted his eyes to heaven and uttering a sublime prayer confessed his faith in God the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. 
(But) flames, bending like the sails of a ship, swelled by winds wrapped up the body of the martyr without doing him harm and when the pagans saw it, they ordered an executioner to get near him and to sink a dagger into his heart.
Imagine my excitement when I discovered that our hotel in Smyrna/Izmir (a city of 3 million people) was just a 10 minute walk from the church set aside to remember Polycarp's life and death. We showed up at 3.30pm to find that it was only open from 3.00-5.00pm each day. Thank-you, Lord. AS with churches in Turkey today, it is a bit of a fortress with high walls surrounding the property and careful security checks on entrance.

Upon entering St Polycarp Church, it did not take long to find a fresco on the ceiling commemorating Polycarp's martyrdom (NB: see how both flames and dagger are at work) - with the words mentioned above as part of the description of the event.

But what stopped me in my tracks was something else inside the lavishly decorated church. It was the pulpit, with this rather odd structure coming out the side of it (see below). I am not sure what it means - but my immediate thought was of a companion to Paul's phrase to the Philippians - 'holding forth the word of life' ... but here, more something like 'holding forth Christ crucified', recalling 1 Corinthians 2.2. How true is that for the preacher, even today?! It becomes a variation on the theme of the words inscribed in some pulpits today, advising the preacher: 'we wish to see Jesus'.

My journey with St Polycarp Church did not stop there. Our flight the next morning was a 50 minute 'hop' to Istanbul and so I asked for a window seat, in order to be able to take some photos. They gave me the row just behind the wing and so it was not a great view. But I did my best to recognise places with my limited knowledge of the city. Thinking this was roughly the area where we stayed, I clicked this shot:

On zooming in ...

... and zooming in again - to my utter amazement it was where we stayed. In the photo above, the Hilton Hotel forms a backdrop to the church - and here it is, with St Polycarp Church being the collection of oddly-shaped orange roofs directly below the sharp corner of the Hilton.

nice chatting


PS: Don't forget that there have been more martyrs for Christ in the most recent century than in all the other twenty centuries (since Polycarp) combined