"If we're adding to the noise...."

A question has been haunting me for a few weeks now.  I have a wonderful life.  A wonderful Job.  A wonderful home.  A wonderful wife.   I serve a wonderful God.  I fellowship at a wonderful church.  

So where has all the joy gone?

To be sure, I’m not depressed.  I’m not even unhappy.  But occasionally I notice a low level of anxiety that, relative to the blessings in my life, just doesn’t add up. 

Joy, says Bill Johnson, is such a priceless commodity that Jesus was prepared to endure the cross for it.   “Look to the Lord and his strength” writes the Psalmist, “seek his face always” (Ps 105:4).  Yet somehow I seem tuned to a different wavelength a lot of the time.

Life – even since I got rid of my satellite dish – remains insanely cluttered.  

Just this week, Santam and Nandos squared off in what can only be described as a self indulgent advertising slug-fest.  In my amateur opinion, it was just too clever not to have been staged – but that’s for another day.  If you must, check out the work here.  Don’t get me wrong, as a marketing case study, the Nandos/Santam standoff is about as good as it gets.  As a marketer I doff my cap to the team responsible.  

My point is this:  even without a television, the commercials insinuated their way into my life through Twitter and Facebook.  They even became the subject of a coffee station conversation that lasted way too long – given that we were only talking about a few TV ads.  

Seriously, since when did advertising begin to pass for entertainment?  Why do more people watch the Super Bowl for the ads than they do for the game itself?

Naomi Klein laments this very thing in her book “No Logo”.  Part 1 of the book – aptly entitled “No Space” - reflects on how far we have surrendered the things we hold most dear to advertisers – our schools, our neighbourhoods, our landscapes, our architecture – our very culture. 

In a provocative piece entitled “Confessions of a middle-aged marketing consultant” Tom Dawson says:

“Do we really need all this advertising and mindless marketing chatter?  The amount of media saturation in our modern lives is growing every year, fueling the marketing machine. Seems like anywhere two or more people gather in a conversation or a shared experience there’s a marketer trying to interrupt the conversation”

Controversial artist Banksy goes a step further in his blog post below.  It's righteous indignation so I make no apology for the language he uses – I've used such words myself!

Perhaps this, at least in part, accounts for where my joy has gone.  A subtle and sinuous matrix envelops us, causing me to take my eye off not only the true source of life but the true inspiration for life.  Paul encourages the Philippians to dwell on whatever is true, noble, right and pure.  And so while all things are permissible, perhaps not everything (like TV Ads, celebrity worship, sports) is beneficial after all.

I had the privilege of speaking in church yesterday.  It was a piece I’d spent weeks thinking about and at least three days writing.  As I left the house on my way to the meeting, I considered the unpleasant possibility that whatever I had to say might just be another interruption to an already noisy frequency.  If any of you were there to hear it, I trust God would help you be the judge of that.  But I leave you with the provocative lyrics of a great Switchfoot song called “Adding to the noise”

What's it gonna take

to slow us down

to let the silence spin us around?

What's it gonna take

to drop this town?

We've been spinning at the speed of sound.

If we’re adding to the noise

Turn off this song

If we’re adding to the noise

Turn off your stereo, radio, video

I don't want to go through the motions

I've had an amazing weekend.  Maybe the best weekend so far this year.

After a few days of training at the Global School of Supernatural Ministry, my fellow trainees and I were required to take what we'd learnt out to the streets and apply it where it's needed most.  After some radical experiences of God's power, I end the weekend with a brief but tantalising glimpse of what it's like to really align with his heart for the broken and the lost.  And boy, it's a far cry from the meagre faith I've settled for these past few years!

Could this be what it's like to really be a friend of God?  To live in the spacious, live-giving, co-labouring relationship he speaks of in John 15?

"I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master's business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you.  You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit--fruit that will last. Then the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name"

Is this the same euphoria the disciples felt when they returned from a similar "field trip"? (Luke 10)

"Lord, even the demons submit to us in your name."

As I've written in previous blogs, I am petrified of wasting my life.  The quickest way of doing this - I've realised - is to settle for a "going through the motions" faith -  which, in fact, is not really faith at all.  It is a cop-out lifestyle which says: 

• “Let’s sit back and see what God will do”

• “God has promised it so it will definitely happen” 

• “If it is God’s will then it will happen”. 

“Going through the motions faith” is, at it’s worst, little more than a religious form of fatalism.  At its best it is really only wishful thinking – a form of spiritual laziness.

Lord, deliver me from going through the motions.  Make my life count for your Kingdom.  You may enjoy this music video by Matthew West - a singer whose voice was seriously compromised through overuse a few years back and who faced a dim and uncertain future because of it.  To these amazing lyrics I say "yes" and "Amen".

The Battle isn't over till it's over

Spion Kop - Where the British snatched defeat from the Jaws of victory

A question has been on my mind for some weeks now:  How should I respond when I have taken what I thought was a great leap of faith only to find the thing I was believing for did not materialise or work out the way I thought it would?

Our church recently suffered a significant setback when a piece of land we were convinced God had set aside for us was sold to another buyer.  I was dismayed, especially since the seller had promised to extend the deadline by a further 3 months while we came up with the finance.  It would take several blogs to convey to you not only the excitement which had built up since November when the land became available but our heartfelt conviction that we were on the verge of a major move of destiny.

Yet in spite of this buildup of "faith" energy, when the news broke, my reaction was decidedly carnal.  The immediate temptation was to dishonour the buyer, dismiss him as a liar or man of weak principle.  On one occasion, I thought the "glorious future" we'd dreamt of and prayed about was perhaps not so glorious after all.  Another time, the urge to indulge some less glorious distraction seemed appealing.

So back to my opening question:  how are we to deal with disappointment, with unrequited faith?

Firstly, Bill Johnson reminds us that we are not to live in a state of reaction to negative circumstances.  Our agenda must remain that of the King.

"The devil loves it when we live in reaction to his works. Then he's had a role in setting our agenda. Jesus lived in response to the Father. If we learn to live with the same priorities we will get the same breakthroughs" 

Easier said than done!  How often am the "double-minded" man described so vividly in the book of James?

"...he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.  That man should not think he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all he does.

James 1:6

This "double-minded man" says Barnes' commentary - is described in the Greek as  δίψυχος (dipsuchos) - the word means one who has two souls; or one who is wavering or inconstant. It describes the man who has no settled principles; who is controlled by passion; who is influenced by popular feeling; who is now inclined to one opinion or course of conduct, and now to another.

Secondly, we must remember that we can never hope to see the battle's masterplan in its entirety - the God's eye view which sees just how close victory really is.  "Today is the day of God's favour, today is the day of Salvation" says Paul to the Corinthians.  Regardless of the day's body-count, we are to live every day as though victory is imminent.

Yet how often have I (a combattant) second guessed the ebb and flow of battle - a job reserved exclusively for high command?  The parable of the 10 virgins reminds us that we know neither the day nor the hour and as such are to lean into the fray in full preparedness regardless of how things look.

Let me close with a fitting parallel from The Second Boer War fought at the turn of the 19th century between the British Empire and the Boer Republics.  A key and bloody battle in this conflict took place on a desolate hill near Ladysmith named Spion Kop.  It began in the early hours of 23 January 1899 and after the first exchanges it looked as though things had gone Britain's way.  But this was just the beginning.  A lack of cover, coupled with a failure to control the secondary peaks surrounding the plateau meant the Imperial army would suffer heavy casualties.  As the day wore on however, its numerical supremacy over the Boer force led to a stalemate which lasted well into the night.  Towards dawn on the second day of battle, the Boers - unbeknownst to the British commanders - abandoned their positions and began an orderly retreat.  The British front line commander - exhausted and traumatised by hours of sustained violence was completely unaware that he had all but won the battle.  Even though 1400 reinforcements had been sent to help seal the victory, he ordered a retreat from Spion Kop.  To add insult to injury, a signaller who tried to reverse the decision from a command post half way up the slopes of the hill found that his signaling lamp had run out of oil.  As Thomas Pakenham writes in his seminal book "The Boer War":

"The Battle was lost for want of a pennyworth of Oil"

Could victory be closer than you think?  In the words of the great poet Tennyson:

"Theirs not to reason why...theirs but to do or die"

The radical Aramathean undertaker

"Death where is your sting?  Grave where is your victory?"

1 Corinthians 15

Visitors to Palermo, Italy might (in search of a more bizarre touristic experience) be tempted to visit the city's Capuchin Catacombs - a place where several thousand of its late residents have been mummified and laid to rest.  The practice began as far back at 1599 and slowly grew in popularity -  so much so that it became common practice to stipulate in one's will the clothing and pose in which one wished to be put on display.

Two satisfied occupants of Palermo's Capuchin Catacombs

The ancient Jews had a similar disposition to the treatment of their dead.  Large caverns were hewn laboriously from the native rock to create multi-chambered resting places for whole families.  Once such places were full, space was made by re-locating the bones of earlier ancestors to containment facilities known as ossuaries.  Like the residents of Palermo, the emphasis was not just on giving the dead the best send-off possible but on ensuring that they were well remembered on this side of eternity too.  

But this was only the preserve of the very rich.  Poor Jews were forced to bury their dead in the ground and the bodies of executed people were often disposed of in un-marked graves.  No dignified send off for them - no monuments for posterity.

This brings us to the story of Joseph of Arimathea, the man who recovered the body of Jesus in order to give it a proper burial in a grave of his own.  While the story is pretty well known, there are aspects to it which call for a second look.  

Firstly, I find it remarkable that this man, ostensibly a member of the ruling group which had conspired to execute Jesus, would actively seek an audience with the very man who had passed sentence.  After the unspeakable brutalities of the day - from the vicious scourging to the very public execution itself this was a bold move if ever there was one.  As it says in Mark's gospel:

"Joseph, he of Arimathea, noble and honorable in rank and a respected member of the council (Sanhedrin), who was himself waiting for the kingdom of God, daring the consequences, took courage and ventured to go to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus"

Not for the first time that day did the sound of hammering resound over Jerusalem - only this time it was metaphorical and it signalled the nailing of a brave and devoted man's colours to the proverbial mast.

Secondly, (beyond securing the body), it was Joseph who joined fellow Sanhedrin member Nicodemus in the extravagant purchase of myrrh and aloe to ensure that Jesus received the type of embalming fitting of family member.  Indeed, as commentator R.J. Miller points out: "it is almost as if Joseph is in effect bringing Jesus into his family".

Besides the act being both courageous and consistent with Jewish traditions, I find it highly prophetic too.  From Joseph we see the radical alteration of earthly plans to make space for the Saviour.  In making such space, he invites Christ to come in alongside his hopes and dreams, his desires for status and reputation.  The story is a reminder that following Christ is not just about building a monument to my past but about securing my future in his Kingdom too.

Perhaps no-one saw this as clearly as the thief crucified alongside Jesus.  Forced into a lingering retrospection of a slow and painful death, this man knew his life was unlikely to be remembered (not for the right things anyway).  More than likely there were no relatives to mourn him, no-one to place him in the sort of grave Jesus would end up in.  In all likelihood his mortal remains would end up on the dung-heap.  In a moment of extreme poignancy he asks "remember me when you enter your kingdom"

Perhaps not surprising then that the angel at the Resurrection tells his followers:  "why do you seek the living among the dead?"

Crucifixion - more than a slap on the wrists

News24 reports this morning of volunteers being nailed to a cross as part of Good Friday rituals in Paombong, Philippines.  I cannot imagine having to prove my devotion in this way but, at least to some extent, this practice of non-lethal crucifixion provides a vivid reminder of that fateful 24 hours 2000 years ago when Jesus was subjected to all this and more.  Check out this video taken a few years back in the Philippines - taking great care not to choke on your Lindt Bunny

What is it about such things that we find so fascinating?  While I generally believe in watching a good movie again there are two good films I have not had the stomach to watch twice.  One is Mel Gibson's "Passion of the Christ" and the other is "Bravehart" - which coincidentally also stars Mel Gibson.  

In the former's case, it was the brutality and bloodiness of the scourging and crucifixion.  In the latter's, the closing scenes in which Wallace is brutalised by the king's torture squad.  The process he was subjected to was known as being "hanged, drawn and quartered" - a suffering which comes close to and, some would say, even eclipses the miseries of crucifixion.  According to Wikipedia:

Convicts were fastened to a hurdle, or wooden panel, and drawn by horse to the place of execution, where they were hanged (almost to the point of death), emasculated, disembowelled, beheaded and quartered (chopped into four pieces). Their remains were often displayed in prominent places across the country, such as London Bridge

The scene really rattled me for some reason.  Mercifully, sufficient time separates us moderns from those barbarous methods and we, for the most part, are blessed to live under more temperate penal methods.

Yet, as Mark Driscoll points out in "Vintage Jesus", if we don't see crucifixion as the ancients saw it, we don't appreciate it the way they appreciated it.  The practice was not only widespread but a very public one too.  Driscoll cites a lowlight of history which, in the aftermath of Spartacus' slave revolt, saw 6000 men crucified in a single day along the Appian Way.  Crucifixion was so barbaric that it has even produced the word "ex-cruc-iating" to describe the depths of pain and misery experienced.  The Roman Orator Cicero described it as "the most hideous of punishments" and even Roman criminals were not subjected to it.

The process didn't simply involve being nailed to a cross.  The whipping with a "flagrum" which preceded it was often enough to kill less hardy victims.  The intent was to cause so much blood loss, pain and circulatory shock that the victim would be near death when raised up.  

The driving of long iron nails between the bones of the wrist would probably have pierced the median nerve.  The "slouch" position assumed by the victim once the cross was upright would have made breathing unusually laborious requiring him to force upwards with his feet -  also nailed to a wooden shelf.

Some commentators report that insects would bore into the cuts and wounds and for those victims unlucky enough to endure (some lasted days), birds of prey might rip at the eyes, ears and nose.  Ultimately dehydration and respiratory failure would lead to death.  For very tough criminals who prevailed too long, executioners would break the victim's leg with a large mallet thus rendering breathing impossible.

Back to those pilgrims who, probably this very hour, are undergoing treatment for pierced palms and feet.  As much discomfort as they are experiencing, can it even remotely approximate the sufferings of Christ 2000 years ago?  Does it include the sleepless night (OK - maybe!), the interrogations, the betrayals, the beatings?  What of the vicious scourging (only partly), the burdensome road to Golgotha, the jeers?  

And lastly, what of the utter separation from the Father which prompted the cry "Eloi! Eloi! Lama Sabachtani!"

The Cross:  Not how it was

The Triumphal Entry

Yesterday we celebrated Palm Sunday, the day of Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem approximately a week before he was crucified.  I associate Palm Sundays with those small palm frond crosses that were handed out at the door of the church we used to attend when I was small.  

Because the story gets told so frequently, it's easy to take a quick and all too superficial look at The Triumphal Entry.  But an understanding of history brings fresh understanding to what was going on here.

I recently read a book by Conn Iggulden which described a civil and religious ceremony performed by the Roman army known as a "triumph".  While the practice was the right of any victorious general returning from a successful campaign, he needed the permission of the Senate to perform it.  Indeed, his army had to wait beyond the city walls until such permission had been granted.  During this period of waiting, the men would painstakingly polish armour, oil leather and sharpen weapons.  They would groom horses, plume head-dresses and ready all the spoils of the campaign (including prisoners).

Once permission was granted, the legion would march proudly through the city on a pre-arranged route, showing off their spoils, parading captives and receiving due praise and adoration from the citizens.  Often this involved the lining of the streets with garments and vegetation.   

Perched on a stately war chariot and clad in the ceremonial regalia which identified him as near divine, the man of the hour was the victorious General.  Often, ceremonial coins bearing his profile were minted especially for the event.  The march would end at Jupiter's temple where sacrifices and tokens were offered to the gods.

Back to Palm sunday and The Triumphal Entry.  In some ways it bears striking parallels to this Roman practice.  In other ways it couldn't be more different.  For here the entry is, as far as we know, unapproved.  In place of the proud, gleaming legions is a motley band of Jews and their Nazarene leader.  In place of the war chariot, a donkey.  There are no spoils to speak of - and certainly no captives.

Yet strangely, the reception is electrifying.

A couple of things strike me about this story:

Donkey vs. Horse

Why could Jesus not at least have chosen a horse?  There must have been hundreds of them around.  The donkey, a KZN farmer once told me, is amongst the most sensitive and affectionate of animals.  It has a tendency for loyalty that rivals a dog and when mistreated falls into a deep depression.  So perhaps it's not such a big surprise that this "man of sorrows" would have chosen such beast on which to ride.

Why the rapid change of sentiment?

How quickly things changed for Jesus during the course this week.  Did it have something to do with the nature of his entry?  Did Jesus deliberately plan it this way to make his presence felt? 

In John 7 we read of how his brothers had once encouraged him to "show himself" to the public at large.

"No one who wants to become a public figure acts in secret. Since you are doing these things, show yourself to the world."

Though we went to Jerusalem shortly after this to celebrate the Feast of Tabernacles, caution - albeit a Godly form - was the hallmark of his ministry. 

Until now.

Now he was entering the Lion's den with more fanfare and pomp that bordered on recklessness.  Indeed, it looks for all the world that his very intention was not only to rattle the Jewish authorities - but to send a message to the Roman garrison too (whose tradition he had co-opted).

A week later the mission was over.  Calgary was behind him and so was the grave.  With his ascension in the coming weeks, he would soon perform another Triumphal Entry - this time through the gates and down the streets of Heaven.  This time he would look every bit the returning conqueror - even down to the last and very important details.  As Paul wrote in his letter to Ephesians:

"He ascended on high, he led captives in his train and gave gifts to men"

Note to Self: Don't waste your life

I am haunted by the possibility of wasting my life.  

Indeed, each day is a battle between two extremes: of living the next 24 hours for the rewards of this life or of living so that, in the words of the Gladiator Maximus, my actions echo in eternity.

Though in my mind I may hold these trade-offs in sharp relief, the right decision is never guaranteed.  Indeed, this is my life's battle.

"Let me go and bury my father" says one of Jesus' followers in the Gospel of Matthew.

"Follow me and let the dead bury their own dead" replies Jesus.

It was a pretty harsh reply, especially given the great importance the Jews placed on the duty of children to bury their parents.  Yet only Jesus knew how crucial his mission was.  Only he knew the day and the hour when he would be seized and executed.  Only he knew that he had about three years to mould a small yet resilient task force to incarnate his kingdom in the World at large.  Just three years.  Not a long time - not then, not now.  

The clock was ticking and he had work to do.

Last week I received a medium term employment offer which would pretty much see me through financially until mid December.  An opportunity not to worry about income for at least another year - to perhaps spend on a few luxuries we've been putting off since I became self-employed.  A chance to immerse myself again in the world of big business - learn at the cutting edge of commerce.

It was - for a few minutes anyway - a tempting proposition.  Until I looked at it from another angle.

One of the great joys of self-employment has been the freedom to dream again.  Not to kick back and veg out during the down time but to ride the winds of possibility as and when they blow.  How to value that freedom in light of this offer?  

More than this, I'd been in full time corporate employment before - in the very company which furnished the offer - and for 16 long years at that.  At least 10 of them were some of the hardest most bitter years of my life.  In fact, the offer in question involved the type of work I'd spent years asking God to deliver me from.  Even with the prospect of medium term financial security - why go back? 

"it was for freedom that Christ has set us free.  Stand firm then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery"

Though Paul was chastising the Galatians for discarding the gospel of Grace in favor of the law, the parallels are striking.  It's all about going back to your comfort zones - even when they aren't beneficial for you.  Behaving like the proverbial dog which returns to its vomit.

Have I made up my mind?  Yes.  Am I at peace with my decision?  Mostly.  Is this bravado?  I trust it is faith.  I am stirred by the introduction to Erwin McManus' book "Chasing Daylight":

"This a call to live a life of blazing urgency. We have but one life. We are given one opportunity to pursue our dreams and fulfill our divine purpose. Every moment counts, and we must engage them with fierceness and zeal. Put an end to passive observation, paralyzed by the need for perfect opportunity, and start seizing the raw, untapped potential of your life with God".

Or as Bill Hybel wrote in his book, "The Power of a Whisper"

"life is long enough to live out God's purpose, but too short to waste a moment"