Are there star charts in the Kingdom?

I want to tell you a secret. Promise you won't use it against me though, right? We'll assume you just promised, so here you are. I am incredibly trainable. Far more than any dog (or other animal) I've come across, I respond very well to praise. So you could basically train me to do anything you wanted, if you rewarded me with praise at strategic moments. Chocolate works well as a reward to accompany verbal praise, a bit like when Sheldon tries to train Penny on the Big Bang Theory. But the most useful tool of all, for training me to do absolutely anything, is the star chart. Yes, that age old trick for making kids eat their veg, flush the toilet or tidy their rooms, is close to 100% effective on me. This picture should serve as proof:

I've been a nail biter all my life, and having small hands (and therefore tiny nails) anyway, it used to look like there was hardly anything there where my fingernails should have been, it was gross. Then when I was 19, my boyfriend at the time made me this amazing star chart to help me stop. He made a picture of a garden with a night sky background that I could stick stars onto each day I didn't bite my nails, and in the garden was an apple tree with twelve removable apples on it. For each month of stars which I stuck in the sky, I'd get to pick an apple, turn it over, and see what reward was written on the back. They were great, I got meals out, iTunes vouchers, clothes bought for me, Chinese take-aways, girly films and even foot spas. It worked a treat, for the first time ever I managed to stop biting my nails, with the help of this elaborate star chart. Then, 6 or 7 months in, we started to forget about the chart. He'd forget to put stars up for me when I wasn't at his house, and I'd forget to keep count of days and catch the sky up when I was there. That was when I stopped caring about my nails, and little by little, they returned to being a bitten mess.

Fast-forward to about two years later, I was in second year and determined that if I could stop biting my nails once, I could do it again. I made the decision to stop, I painted my nails to remind me, and I told my lovely friend Emily all about the star chart I'd had a couple of years earlier. The next day, I checked my pigeon hole and found a beautifully hand-made star chart for the term, and a motivational "Keep Calm and Don't Chew" poster. I'd colour in the days myself, and each weekend, text the Star Chart Fairy (c/o Emily, naturally) to say I'd managed another full week. Emily would be all encouraging and proud, and a sugary reward would find its way to my pidge the next day. It was one of the sweetest things a friend could do for me, and Emily knew me well - my nails in the photo above were the result of her praise and rewards! 9 months or so later, and except for the odd blip, I haven't looked back.

I'm not the first person in the world to be so driven by other people's praise. I might be a particularly good example of it, but there's something in human nature that loves to impress others, show off our achievements and have them affirmed by other people. Our achievements of Christian life are no different, although we might dress it up in different language. If my 'Quiet Times' in the mornings, time reading the Bible and praying, are going well during any given period, there's an easy way to tell. I'll probably have told you, in some obviously modest way. In a Bible study, "you know this reminds me of a part of Habbakuk I've been reading recently, a couple of chapters ago. Actually, the notes I've been reading alongside it have been really helpful on the subject too..." Or in prayer request time: "Praise God that I've been having such great quiet times, pray that this will be an encouragement to [insert name of struggling friend]." Or as casual anecdote: "I walked in half way through a lecture today, first time I've been that late! It was only because my prayer time over-ran though, you know how you lose track of time when there's just so much to bring to the Lord..."

Anyway, the point is, most of us want our achievements noticed and affirmed by other people.

That was certainly the case for the "fake-pietists"[1] of whom Jesus spoke in Matthew 6:1-18. Giving their money, prayer, and fasting were all good things, 'pillars of Jewish devotional life'.[2] And much like me and my Quiet Times, they couldn't resist the urge to let everyone know how well they were doing at these religious activities. They loved to be noticed, to hear people commenting on their exemplary prayer style, or to note their kind generosity to the poor. I imagine they wouldn't have been averse to a public star chart in the market square either, accompanied by a hearty "well done, you!" and a packet of sweets every week. They got the praise they wanted, the reward they were setting themselves up for. And that was the end of it, for them.

See, I think Jesus is drawing a link between our motivation for doing something, and the outcome of it. If my motivation in working at my Quiet Times is that everyone else will know it and praise me, well that can happen. Simple. But I won't gain anything else from it. If my motivation to pray is that I can tick it off my to do list and feel like a successful Christian, then fine. I can do that. But I won't gain anything more. But if my motivation for any of these things, those which Jesus mentions in this passage and the other 'religious' activities I might want to add to his examples, is to do with relating to my Father, well that's a different matter entirely. If my aim is to "be perfect therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect", and I want to act like him to see the family likeness grow; if I want to really bless the people I'm giving to rather than myself, because I know I'm the child of a generous God; if I pray because I love to talk to him and get to know him better and hear all he has to say too.... then I'll carry out these activities very differently, caring about no-one who could be watching except for God. The outcome will certainly be different, too. Rather than a pat on the back from fellow do-gooders and perhaps a look of admiration from those struggling with their own piety, I'll get what I aimed for. My motivation will work itself out in the outcome. I'll grow in the likeness of God. I'll get to spend time with him and hear from him. I'll have real confidence in my identity in him. Here's the reward that God gives, the reward for those whose motivation is their Father himself.

So no, I don't have a Quiet Time star chart (though if Emily reads this... only kidding!) or a prayer or giving star chart. I shouldn't want or need others to stroke my ego and tell me how well I'm doing. That's not the reward I'm looking for. Instead, if my motivations for doing good are right, I'll gain more than I ever expected. In acting just a bit more like God, privately and where no-one else can notice, I'll be changed that little bit more into his likeness. I'll walk that step closer to him, trusting his character better and enjoying spending time with him more and more. That beats all the rewards I've have on my star charts so far, and that's really saying something.

_______________________________________________________________________________

[1] This is from Nick King's translation of the New Testament, and it's great. You should probably read it.
[2] Nick again. Each section has a handy little commentary-cum-devotional-guide with it which explains everything.

A Kingdom kick in the gut.

"That Jesus had some good morals didn't he? Be nice to people and stuff. I generally agree with him and stick to them."

This is a line we evangelicals roll out a lot to try to sum up what we think non-Christians think of Jesus. It's a favourite of ours actually, to tell everyone else what they probably think of Jesus, so that we can tell them why they're wrong. So in this case, we encourage people to say that they think Jesus was a good moral teacher, and then we pounce with the C.S. Lewis "mad-bad-or-God" argument. As Lewis wrote, a good man with good morals is not an option that Jesus has left open to us - someone who taught what he taught, claimed what he claimed, and asked of his followers what Jesus asked, can be no good teacher. Either he was insane, or he was a manipulative (and very successful) conman. Or he was telling the truth, and he is God.

The reason I bring this up though, is not that I've spotted a few non-Christians speaking of Jesus this way, who need it pointed out to them that no nice moral teacher claims to be God. No, it's more that I'm hearing Christians think this way. In fact, I tell a lie, I can't hear anyone think. It's that I've found this thinking in me.

It's not that I don't think Jesus is the Son of God. It's not that I think he was just a man with nice things to say. But that when I think of Jesus' teaching on the way we should live, I most often think that what he taught  was nice, good, about being kind. I think that I generally agree and that for the most part, I do okay at putting them into practice. Perhaps its that evangelicals have such a focus on the radical gospel of grace, the good news that in Jesus, God took our human nature, died and rose again so that we could be freely forgiven, accepted and welcomed by him, that we don't have much time for the radical nature of his teaching on how we should live in the light of that.

This is what I've discovered as I've been reading the next part of the sermon on the mount. Jesus didn't say nice things. He said absolutely crazy things. He said things that make you go "but, are you sure? What about when...?" and that make you want to tell Jesus why he's got that a bit wrong.

The words speak for themselves but I thought I'd briefly leave you my thoughts on two of the radical things that Jesus says should mark out the lives of people who are part of his kingdom. Firstly, radical integrity. He says:

 "Let your 'yes' be 'yes' and your 'no', 'no'; anything beyond this comes from the evil one." (Matthew 5:37)

Now, that might not be radical for you. It's probably not, because you're probably a much better person than me. But I've found integrity is something I've struggled with. When I read this verse I found myself reflecting on why that is, and why having this kind of integrity and trustworthiness might be something fitting for people who are part of the kingdom of God. It's not that I want to be deliberately deceptive, arranging to meet up with people and then letting them down just for the fun of it. It's not that I tell lies to sell to a paper and earn myself money and infamy. Not yet anyway. I think sometimes its that I want to please other people or make myself look good to them, so I say yes to things that I'm really saying "oh no..." to in my head. That leaves me likely to cancel or make excuses. Sometimes its that I'm scared to be honest or ashamed of what could be the truth. I find myself promising that I won't do something again, that I'll be better, that I'll make good decisions and use wise judgement, when in fact I can see my own heart and I know there's a very real possibility that I won't live up to the standards I'm claiming for myself. I'm too scared to admit that actually, I can't guarantee I won't make that same mistake again. So again, it leaves me likely to let people down, and in the end it makes all my earnest promises pretty meaningless. Jesus calls us to integrity, to stick to our word, to say what we mean and follow through on what we say. I'll come to why in a minute...

The second value that Jesus calls us to which winded me slightly was radical generosity. Read Matthew 5:38-42, but I paraphrased it like this:

Firstly, don't respond to the evil of others. Don't inflict pain on others when they have inflicted it on you. Don't resist when someone else hurts you. In fact, when they do hurt you, respond with a continued vulnerability and love towards them. Secondly, do respond to the needs of others. When someone tries to take from you forcefully, or in anger, give them even more that what they demanded. When someone wants you to serve them, serve them twice as much as they asked for. When someone asks you for something, just give it to them. When someone wants to borrow from you, let them. 

Obviously that kills all the vivid imagery and context-appropriate examples Jesus uses, but I wanted to strip it back to the principles general enough to apply to my life too. It's staggering. Don't respond to the evil of others, but do respond to their needs. Not grudgingly or even dutifully but generously.

This challenges every single part of my life. For instance, I get defensive enough when my friends make jokes at my expense, and I want to make sure I'm giving as good as I get. So if anyone is actually unkind to me, the same defensiveness is usually my response. Make sure they get as hurt as me. Make sure I come out on top here. Maintaining my vulnerability and love is not the natural response. [As an aside, these verses raised all kinds of questions for me about abuse, protection, justice, pacifism, and so on. But I didn't want to get bogged down in those because I know myself, I know it's far easier to look at those complicated and sometimes theoretical issues and ignore the glaring need to put this into practice in the every day, simple situations. There's a lot more to say on the complicated stuff though, let me know if you have any initial thoughts.] 

What about lending or even giving to everyone who asks? If you've ever walked around Oxford for more than 20 seconds, you'll know how commonly you get asked for money. There are more people sleeping on the streets in Oxford, selling the Big Issue and asking for money, than I've come across in almost any other city. Can Jesus really expect me to give to everyone who asks? What about the small print, what about the conditions? Shouldn't I check what they're going to spend it on first, shouldn't I tell them not to worry because I've given money to a project instead? Shouldn't I look for the most vulnerable looking person and give my money to them? Or shouldn't I have a quota for the day? These questions are the reason Jesus' words so so striking and so radical. "Give to the one who asks you." It's so simple and cuts right to the heart of my selfish desire to hold on to all that is mine, not to have my life and my stuff intruded upon by anyone who just asks. What if word got out, and everyone started asking? It's like I want Jesus to just be a bit more sensible about generosity.

I started to think of ways I might put this into practice. What if I counted on an average day how many times I'm asked for money? Say it was ten times. What if I went to the bank in the morning and got £5 changed into ten 50p coins? Then I could keep those ten coins in my pocket all day and give one away each time I was asked for money. But then, if the number of people asking went up... well I could just get it changed into smaller denominations. I could give out 20p coins instead. Then I'd still be sticking to what Jesus said, and it's still pretty generous...

Here's the heart of the issue. Maybe that is a good system to use, maybe it's not. That's not really the point. As ever, the heart of the issue is an issue of the heart. My heart. Even in my earnest attempts to put in to practice Jesus' teaching, even then I wouldn't be able to escape my selfishness.That's why it's so radical, so revolutionary. It really does involve a fundamentally different way of looking at the world, looking at my life and my stuff and my money.

I've written far more than I intended, so a final thought. Why does Jesus come up with these revolutionary principles for living, and how can he ever expect me to put them into practice when I'm weak, scared and selfish? The answer to both, at least a partial answer, is the same. This is what God is like. A few verses later Jesus will say "Be perfect therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect" (Matthew 5:48). It is God who is characterised by radical integrity, total trustworthiness. It's the 'yes' and 'no' of God which we can totally trust, God who has never gone back on a promise. It's God who is generous beyond measure, showing grace instead of giving me what I deserve, continuing to love me when I hurt him. It's God who always gives more than I ask for, who "goes the extra mile" (to use Jesus' language), who never turns me away when I'm in need. He perfectly lived out these things in Jesus who "did not come to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many" (Mark 10:45). So as a citizen of God's kingdom and a child of my Father, of course it's fitting that I should live like this too. As I spend time with him, experiencing his trustworthiness and generosity, it's that character which I'll begin to reflect in my life. It's infectious, and God promises to make us more into his likeness as we keep looking to him. I trust that he'll come through on that promise.

So, in a few months time, feel free to ask me how my generosity is going. Ask me whether I'm responding defensively or graciously when I'm hurt. Ask me how tight a grip I've got on my own purse. Hopefully I'll be honest enough to tell you the truth.

Kingdom hunger

It's been good to read back over what I wrote a couple of weeks ago, as this week I've felt particularly like an unsuccessful Christian. Thanks for the messages letting me know I'm not alone in that, they've been really appreciated!

I won't write a post on each of the beatitudes, though all of them have made me think, and some have puzzled me more than others. But this one in particular got me thinking:

"Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled."  (Matthew 5:6)

It's sometimes said that Matthew and Paul have different concepts of 'righteousness', but the more I think about it, the more I think it's impossible to have one without the other. Paul's concept of righteousness is a status before God. In Romans, he says that on our own, "There is no-one righteous, not even one" (Romans 3:10) but that through Christ, "the righteousness from God has been made known" (Romans 3:21) and "this  righteousness is given through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe" (Romans 3:22). For Paul, righteousness is about being put in right relationship with God, not by our own innate goodness or effort but by faith in Christ.

As for Matthew, his concept of righteousness is said to be an ethical one. Having talked about the obedience to the commandments, Matthew reports Jesus as saying, "For I tell you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven." (Matthew 5:20)  If righteousness for Paul is about being put into right relationship with God, for Matthew it's living a life that shows it. A righteous life is one that is fitting for someone who knows God, reflecting his character in the way they act graciously and generously towards others. There's another element to this too. Matthew is known for his use of the Old Testament (however clumsily he might do it sometimes!) and making use of Hebrew words and references. In the Old Testament, the word righteousness is often part of a phrase, "justice and righteousness". Over and over again, they're concepts that come together. I can't say much about the significance of that in the Old Testament, especially because Rosie has written a whole dissertation on the subject (so direct all questions her way...) but it does seem like Matthew would have that in mind as he talks about hungering and thirsting for righteousness. It's not just about my little world, my little bubble. There's something bigger going on. There's injustice in the world, and God's work is bringing about justice. There's oppression in the world, and God's work is bringing about freedom. My own little life can't really be righteous, a right response to God's grace, if I'm not joining in with his work.
Micah 6:8 comes to mind:

He has shown you, O mortal, what is good.    And what does the Lord require of you?To act justly and to love mercy    and to walk humbly with your God.

So what is righteousness? It's being in right relationship with God, by his grace, and living out right relationship with God, joining in his work of putting the world right again. It looks like acting justly, loving mercy, and walking humbly with God.

Does that make you hungry? Anyone who has lived with me will know what I look like when I'm hungry. It usually involves pacing around the room, melodramatic announcements that I'll have faded away within minutes if I'm not fed, and a very keen interest in everyone else's food. It's a moment of desperation and focus on  the goal. Thirst on the other hand is not something I notice much in this country, but when I was in Israel a couple of summers back, I knew real thirst for the first time. When we'd walked the Jericho road from Jerusalem, or scaled Mount Sinai, or even just been looking round some archaeological site in blistering heat, there were few things we wouldn't have done for cold water.
There was a real dilemma on the Jericho road when we passed a stream which was almost certainly part animal pee, but someone had chlorine tablets so it was tempting. The point is, hunger and thirst even in my very limited experience of them, look a bit like desperation. What if that was how I felt about righteousness? What if that was my focus, my passion, my obsession even? What if that's what kept me up at night and had me pacing round the kitchen? What if, even more than pancakes and pies and Pimms, I craved life in right relationship with God, joining in his work of making the world right again? It sounds a little like hard work, and a little too optimistic for my liking, if I'm honest. As if me chasing righteousness would make any difference to anything...

But. They will be filled. How come? There are two ways to look at it. On the one hand, joining in God's work is fulfulling in itself. This is what we're created for, to participate in the life of God. Seeing his kingdom coming on earth, bit by bit, in our lives, in our communities, is the most fulfilling work we could ever do. We get glimpses of it, I think, in day to day life: when we show grace to someone and see the effect that has on their day, when we do something generous, when we make a good decision rather than an easy one... We get that satisfied feeling, perhaps unexpectedly, just for a moment. When I know I have to serve in some way and I'm feeling grumpy about it, or when I feel I should do something just or generous but I don't want to, it's at those times that God takes me by surprise with how satisfying it is to live rightly, and I'm humbled.

The second reason that those who hunger and thirst for righteousness will be filled, is that this is the direction of God's work - so we can be sure it'll be completed. He's promised that the earth will be renewed, creation will be redeemed, there will be an end to injustice and oppression, and there will be an end to the sin in my own heart that stops me living rightly. Justice will roll on like a river, and righteousness like a never failing stream. (Amos 5:24) So those who are are already hungry for it, looking out for it, desperate for it, they'll be the ones who are satisfied in the end.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. What are you aching for?

Kingdom success

Since I started my resolution to read through the Sermon on the Mount properly and start putting it into practice, I've been moving pretty slowly - it's taken me a week and a half to get through the the first 8 verses. But I thought it was time to write up my first few thoughts all the same. So here they are:

"Now when he saw the crowds..." (Matt 5:1)

Firstly, I wondered why there were crowds. When I walk around, there's not (usually) a crowd following me and hanging on my every word. So why, so early in Jesus' public ministry, had he gathered such a following? Reading back a few verses I saw that Jesus had been doing two things as he travelled through the area - speaking and healing. Those are the two things that made Jesus so captivating that people from all over the place want to follow him. I think the two must be linked - he was speaking about the good news of the kingdom and he was demonstrating it with his actions. Whatever this good news of the kingdom is, it seems to have dramatic implications for life right here on earth, specifically for sickness and disorder. Jesus is so captivating because his message is captivating, and because he practices what he preaches. The crowds don't just hear about this kingdom, they see it.

"Blessed are the poor in spirit..." (Matt 5:3)

Here the theologian in me wanted to start examining the various meanings of makarios, translated here as 'blessed are', but by others as 'happy are', or in my Greek tutor's own translation, 'congratulations to'. Discussing those meanings does shed some light on the ways we might think about the purpose of the beatitudes as a statement of blessing more than a to-do list and so on, but that's the easy part for a theologian. The bit I tend to miss is looking at the content - what does it mean to be poor in spirit or to mourn or be meek? Why is it that these things in particular constitute success and blessedness, according to the values of this kingdom that Jesus keeps talking about? What kind of kingdom values the poor in spirit?

I couldn't straight away imagine what Jesus might have meant by poor in spirit, so I tried to imagine the opposite, rich in spirit. For me, that conjures up images of "successful" Christians. Not necessarily the ones who fake it and only want to make their faith look good from the outside, but those who seem to 'get' Christian life. It makes me think of people who lead worship, and actually mean all of the words they sing most of the time. Those who are happy to stay behind and wash up or put tables away after a Bible study, because they're pleased for an opportunity to serve. Those whose instinct is to turn to God in difficult situations and who share their faith naturally with friends and strangers and who are patient with irritating people because they love them as brothers and sisters. Successful Christians, you know? Obviously, those things are the aim, I don't think Jesus is at all condemning those who are getting on with faith well, who are living out their relationship with God successfully! But perhaps those aren't the people who need reassuring that they're blessed. They're already secure in the knowledge of their acceptance by God through his grace.

Maybe it's the poor in spirit who need to know they're blessed. The poor in spirit, those who find themselves almost weekly fighting grumpiness on the way to Church; who have to grab their friend to pray against their own cynicism when surrounded by chirpy Christians for too long; who struggle with the same struggles for year after year, until they just talk about it less so others think it's 'progress'; who can think of a hundred reasons to excuse themselves from practically serving and only feel slightly guilty about leaving others to do the work; who spend the majority of their prayer times apologising to God for wandering thoughts or falling asleep... (I hope you've got by now that this is a self-description!) Poor in spirit. Those who don't seem to be very good at being Christians, and know it every day.

Jesus says they're blessed, and theirs is the kingdom of heaven. It's not that 'successful' Christians aren't blessed and aren't part of the kingdom. But for the poor in spirit, this is the ultimate reassurance that it doesn't depend on me. If we really believe in the gospel of grace, that the kingdom of heaven is open to all, that Jesus death was enough to bring me back to God, that his resurrection really guarantees life for all who come to him, that his Spirit is a seal marking me out for God's kingdom... then it makes no difference how often I have to try again. The value of achievement and success is so ingrained into our culture (and it's the air we breathe at Oxford) that its so easy to carry that across to Christian life too. Even if we remember that life isn't about being materially successful, that God won't judge us on the size of our business or the growth of our investments, we can all too easily measure our success at Christian life too, and create the same kind of hierarchy. We can get our self esteem from how well we're doing at prayer, evangelism, service and humility. We can think we're less loved, less valuable, less blessed when we're not doing well at those things. But in God's kingdom, take heart - blessed are the poor in spirit.

[[Note: Think I've completely missed the point here? Think Jesus was saying something entirely different? I'd love to hear other thoughts on what it means to be poor in spirit, or what it means to be blessed...]]

Hear the call of the Kingdom...

A couple of weeks ago, I saw something on Twitter which caught my eye, and struck a chord:
                                                                                           
"For people who interpret every part of the Bible literally except for The Sermon On The Mount, we pray.@unvirtuousabbey"

It struck a chord because no matter how much time I spend (and how many essays I write) on working out the best best way to interpret various bits of the Bible, how different stories were originally intended and understood, what 'literal' and 'historical' and 'mythical' even mean - it's still so easy to ignore its call and its challenge. It's easy to study the words of the Bible and not listen to God's Word.  Even when I do remember that I'm meant to be living it out in my every day life, it's still tempting to get wrapped up in the difficulties, the controversy, and claim it's difficult to know exactly how to live without getting Paul to write me a personal epistle about my personal situation.

And then I remembered the Sermon on the Mount.  Never let me say that I don't know what God wants me to do with my life until you're convinced that I'm putting into practice everything in Matthew chapters 5 to 7. Perhaps the most captivating part of the whole Bible, the most revolutionary manifesto, the clearest teaching  we have from Jesus, and yet the most ignored by Christians who claim to take the Bible most seriously. Myself included. 

So I made a resolution (shortly after New Year but I reckon it still counts) to work through the Sermon on the Mount in my time with God each morning, however slowly I need to, asking him to show me what it would look like for me to start living according to these three short chapters. And then I'm going to pray for the grace to do start doing it. There might be a few blog posts about it along the way... 



In the mean time, here's a song (specially the second verse) which captures for me something of the excitement and the possibility of living out what it means to be part of God's kingdom and to want to see it in our every day contexts.