Will you leave this mine unworked?

It was February 2017 and I was cooling off in a swimming pool in Port Shepstone when I heard my cell phone ping.  It was a whatsapp message from my partner with a link to a BBC newsflash explaining that an international venture capital company was making a hostile bid for my most important client[1].  “This won’t be good for business”, I said to no one in particular – before getting back into the pool.

It wasn’t.  In order to beat off the threat, the CEO had promised the shareholders drastic cuts in spending which, in turn, would dramatically impact the company’s use of external consultants and advisors.  In the blink of a whatsapp, at least 50% of my anticipated revenue for 2017 had vanished into the four winds.

What follows is an attempt to make sense of one of the scarier seasons[2] of my life.  It offers perspectives on how a Christian is to journey through doubt and uncertainty whilst listening to the voice of God and acting accordingly.  It explores the question of how to apply prophecy and words of knowledge to one’s circumstances.  It looks at the middle ground in which so many of us flounder: the place between waiting for God to act and acting ourselves.  Finally, it sheds light on the question of how we can live victoriously in Christ even when – by worldly standards, we are “failing”

*

I am a consultant specializing in the consumer marketing industry.  Between April 2009 and the infamous whatsapp message, my business had been growing in leaps and bounds – at least financially speaking.  Year in and year out – despite the occasional butterfly – I was reasonably assured of work from my “anchor client”.  I had other prospects of course but there never seemed to be the time to develop them properly and I was inclined to stick with the “safer” and more “dependable” work on offer.

As lucrative as this had been, I’d gradually grown weary of the work.  Its many rules and processes had choked out not only creativity but also alternative viewpoints such that I often came home feeling as if I’d failed.  But since it kept paying the bills I just put up with it.  In this corrosive “half-life” between financial success and lousy work, I was slowly losing my joy.  Worse still, this state was becoming my “new normal”.  But then the “Port Shepstone whatsapp” – in one sense an alarming news flash.  In another, as we shall see, a call to adventure.  Could God be trusted for more?  Could he be relied upon to lead me into a new realm of growth and opportunity?

Interestingly, though my first reaction was fear it was not a paralyzing fear.  I told myself that if God had seen to my every need for the last 8 years and caused my business to grow – fear was not a luxury I could afford.  Nor, it seemed, was I entitled to it.  As Bill Johnson once pointed out – “once you have experienced God’s provision in a particular area of your life, you forfeit the right to worry about that particular area ever again”.

The immediate challenge was figuring out what it all meant.  A few years ago, when my brother’s wife was diagnosed with a life-threatening disease, he wrote:  “the hardest part of getting used to a new reality is trying to work out what the new reality really is!”   Fear or no fear I resolved to understand the brutal facts behind the sudden “severance”.  Was this to be a permanent thing?  Could I expect any work in 2017 from this client?  Understanding the brutal facts was a vital first step in my journey.  In times of uncertainty, one is tempted to live with one’s dreamy interpretation of reality rather than reality itself.  The news was not good – there was a certain “don’t call us we’ll call you” quality to the whole affair.  But my investigations proved adequate in securing a few nuggets of insight and ultimately, to know that things had changed – probably for good.

When the breakthrough came, it wasn’t financial; nor would my client change his mind.  In fact it’s hard to properly describe what happened outside of saying that something fresh began to invade my understanding.  Three landmark discoveries stand out

The first came through a total stranger – a visitor to our church who Lisa and I were hosting for the weekend.   On her final day with us, she cornered me in the kitchen saying she had something to tell me.  I noted she was carrying two decks of playing cards: one a conventional deck (i.e. with Kings, Queens, Jacks, Jokers etc)…the other, the colourful card game UNO which has a different set of rules entirely.  She held up the first pack:

“This deck is a picture of your work now”.  I took it from her, wondering where the unusual demonstration was going.  Holding out the second deck she said:

“And this is where you’re work is going - get ready for more color and fewer rules in the work you do.  There’s going to be more fun … it will be a whole new game”

I was intrigued. 

She continued:

“Have you heard the song ‘The Gambler’ by Kenny Rogers?”

“Sure”

“Okay, so you know the words?”

“I can Google them if I have to”

“Well I think the main chorus points to what your work is going to feel like.”  She handed me both decks telling me to keep them somewhere close at Hand[3]

Later I Googled the Lyrics to Kenny’s song

You got to know when to hold 'em,

Know when to fold 'em,

Know when to walk away,

And know when to run.

You never count your money

When you're sittin' at the table.

There'll be time enough for countin'

When the dealing's done.

Her words – unlike many prophecies I’ve received – instantly made sense.  My work, up until this most recent development, had become repetitive and formulaic.  There was too much process – too many rules.  It was also too predictable – the stakes weren’t high enough to bring the best out of me.  While it was producing income, it was wilting my spirit.  Yet now the clearest of signs that change was in the air.  But how would it play out?  And in which areas of my life?  And most importantly, how long would it take before the “fun” mentioned in the prophecy turned into “funds” in the bank account?  While there were no forthcoming answers to those questions, the words from the country song suggested that a greater need for shrewdness and intuition would be needed to identify and exploit the opportunities around me.  Also that some opportunities should be pursued regardless of whether it was immediately obvious how to monetize them.

The second discovery came as I was re-reading Stephen de Silva’s superb book on Biblical stewardship[4].  In the penultimate chapter he describes God’s goodness as a river that flows from the throne room of heaven.  There are times in life, writes Da Silva, “that I am facing downstream with the good things of God flowing away from me.  They are just beyond my reach, too hard to catch.  At this point, I ask God to turn me around so I can see his throne – see his provision.  It’s only then that I can see the Good things he is sending to me – more than I can contain.  There is abundance here for everyone”.  Da Silva explains that the more he became assured of God’s faithfulness and goodness, the more he was able to go beyond merely believing for good things.  His faith now grew to believing God for the BEST things namely, – “everything I needed and more to fulfill all he had put in my heart to do”.  But the key was positioning:

“I learned something else in the river, something I call positioning.  While we don’t need to run around the river grabbing for good things, we do often need to position ourselves in a certain way to receive what God is sending us”

I am a visual person so this analogy really spoke to me.  Faith is about expectation – I needed to re-orientate myself to see the beauty of the throne room and to anticipate the good that God was sending my way.  And by “good” I don’t just mean financial blessing – I mean opportunities – chances to live out the life He has put on my heart to live.  Chances to bless others.  Chances for adventure.  Chances to raise people up and to preach the Gospel. 

The third came one morning while I was reading Ecclesiastes 11

“Cast your bread upon the waters, for you will find it after many days.  He who observes the wind will not sow, and he who regards the clouds will not reap.  In the morning sow your seed, and at evening withhold not your hand, for you do not know which will prosper, this or that, or whether both alike will be good”

Combined with the playing card prophecy and Kenny’s lyrics, I sensed God was saying there had to be a “casting” of my bread, a sowing of my seed regardless of how gloomy or uncertain conditions might appear.  I didn’t have to know immediately what the outcome (or harvest) would be – I merely had to sow in faith.  I merely had to know that faith was the key to unlocking the “good” and the “best” that God had in store for me.

That day, I wrote a memo to myself in my Journal:

“Apply yourself with equal fervour to each opportunity I bring to light – sow your seed and cultivate every opportunity – do it with all your might.  BUT DO IT AS UNTO ME – AND IF YOU DO I WILL KEEP YOU OCCUPIED WITH GLADNESS OF HEART”

*

I’ve recently finished reading “The Lean Startup” by Eric Ries.  In it, the author describes a startup as a “human institution designed to create a new product or service under conditions of extreme uncertainty.”  This is a profound insight not just for the light it sheds on business but for the light it sheds on life itself.  After all, isn’t life itself a “human institution”?  Aren’t we humans required, in various ways, to make something of life be it in the form of jobs, service to family, country and humanity?  And just like a startup, doesn’t life take place under conditions of “extreme uncertainty”?  In fact, in almost every way, a human life is a lot like a startup!

As the safety net of my anchor client was pulled out from underneath me…as conditions of “reasonable certainty” gave way to conditions of “extreme uncertainty” – I suddenly saw my circumstances in the light of Ries’s now famous advice to entrepreneurs.  Put simply:  the only way for a startup to make progress is to design a lean prototype that can be tested and measured in the real world.   Once tested and measured, the entrepreneur must quickly reflect on what he has learnt from the feedback before either refining his product or completely reinventing it.  This is not just a question of “doing”, it is a question of  “learning” as well.  Learning by doing.  In fact, Ries goes so far as to say, “the only way for the startup to win is to learn faster than everyone else”.   

You may be thinking that all of this advice sounds a little too worldly for a Christian and, taken in isolation, you may be right.  But combining the intriguing details of my “playing card prophecy” as well as the conviction that God not only had “good” things in store for me but “better” things too - I sensed a clarion call to embark on a whole new way of pursuing and responding to God.  Could the key to an abundant life be a matter of playful experimentation with Spirit inspired ideas?  Perhaps a small but calculated “road-test” of faith, (even if the results suggested failure), could teach me more about where the Spirit was leading than if I simply sat there waiting for God to act.  Perhaps many such road tests would coalesce into a destination?  Sure, it would be a lot like going down the proverbial rabbit hole but at least it would go somewhere and I’d be forced to tune into God’s voice, not as a once off but as a permanent disposition.  In short, I’d be living!  C.S. Lewis put it thusly:

“To a man on a mountain road at night, a glimpse of the next 3 feet of road may matter more than a vision of the horizon”

*

The opportunity to apply this newly found wisdom came in March when Lisa walked into my office with an advertisement for an upcoming conference in Joburg.  The topic of this 2-day affair was an emerging strategic discipline that my partner and I had already introduced to a new but still small client.  Though the idea had taken root in the business, other distractions had hindered any real moves to expand its application.  The conference seemed to be coming at just the right time.  But there were costs involved – flights to Joburg, enrollment, and accommodation – none of which could easily be passed on to the client in question.  I also knew that in practice, many “summit conferences” fall shy of the lofty promises made in their PR materials and I was worried that the whole undertaking might be a waste of money. 

I brought the matter to God but my prayers were tepid and flavourless – what looked like faith was really just an excuse for staying put.   Then one day I found myself re-reading my journal. The “playing card prophecy”, the words to Kenny’s song and the river metaphor pointed to a very different sort of work life to the one I’d been living the past 8 years.  For years my work had been a case of colour by numbers that had hardly called for faith at all.  Suddenly God’s prompting was clear. “It’s not my decision to make – it’s yours.  Decide what you’re going to do and step into it.  But above all make your move and see what happens…” 

Cast your bread upon the waters, for you will find it after many days.  In the morning sow your seed, cultivate every opportunity – do it with all your might – but do it as unto the Lord.

In May we attended the conference.  And true to my cynical expectations, it didn’t live up to its PR.  In one particularly bad session I scribbled a note on a piece of paper and handed it to Alan who was sitting next to me:  “we were right all along!”   Had I come all this way to waste my money (really God’s money) and my time (really God’s time)?  There had to be more…but what?  “Your move God” I prayed defiantly, “let’s see what you can do with this”.  A few speakers later I was scribbling another huffy note to Alan. “Africa’s a pretty hopeless place to learn about this stuff!”  With that the scales fell from my eyes and the reason for our coming emerged with piercing clarity.  The whole disappointing experience was God’s way of showing us that true insights could only be found beyond the borders of our continent.  Our correspondence continued:

“We need to go to India – preferably get client to pay” – wrote Alan

I had been to India on business in 2016 had enjoyed the experience so much I vowed to return soon.  But could we persuade the client that it was such a good idea that he would foot the bill?  Then and there – on a piece of paper - we began to prepare our case.  A 3 city Trip.  Mumbai, Delhi, Bangalore.  A list of 5 companies whose names we knew to be synonymous with this new line of strategy.   A rough calculation of costs and most importantly, the benefits our client could expect from the whole experience.  It was a terribly long shot but I suddenly felt a surge of exhilaration about work I hadn’t felt in years.  At last I was stepping out into the unknown.

Getting the client to agree proved to be a formality though it was one of the most nerve-wracking pitches I’d ever done.  It was only when we came to putting the itinerary together that my faith in the whole undertaking was sorely tested.  In total, it took nearly 4 months of e-mails, phone calls and cajoling to convince the Indian companies to host us.

The long-anticipated trip finally took place over 12 enthralling days in late September and it radically exceeded our expectations.  What made the trip so remarkable was not the lessons we anticipated but those that took us by surprise.  Put simply, our discoveries eclipsed not just our hopes but those of our client as well.  In addition, the insights gained translated into a battery of strategic recommendations and project ideas a few of which are, as I write, awaiting approval for implementation.  Even more amazing, Alan and I are in line to oversee them.

*

2017 was a weird year.  My business posted the lowest revenue in 8 years.  The opportunities I sensed God inviting me to pursue have yet to produce a meaningful payday.  Yet strangely, I emerge from 2017 feeling stronger, more motivated and infinitely more fulfilled than I’ve ever felt since starting my own business.  I have followed my instincts, made decisions, descended the “rabbit hole” without knowing where I would end up only to see God do amazing things on my behalf.  True to his promise, he has truly kept me “occupied with gladness of heart”.  He has sent, and is continuing to send, His best.

Have I succeeded?  Success seems a terribly inadequate word to describe the way I feel right now.  One thing I know is that I haven’t failed.

Jim Collins – one of the greatest business thinkers of the age and my most important work mentor – wrote a short book called “Hitting the Wall”.  It’s a business book inspired by a life-long love affair of climbing in The Rockies.  The most satisfying climbs says Collins, are “on sight” climbs – ascents that take place without any prior knowledge of the pitch.  Such knowledge can include guidance from veterans, study of maps, books or photos.  On an “on sight”, the climber must tackle the rock sight unseen; use his wits, figure it out as he goes along.  In chapter 2 of “Hitting the Wall”, the author writes about “how to succeed without reaching the top” – the key is in knowing the difference between “failure” and “fall-ure”

“The difference is subtle, but it is all the difference in the world. In fall-ure, you still fail to get up the route but you never let go. Going to fall-ure means a full one hundred percent commitment to go up, despite the odds against you. You'll only find your true limit when you go to fall-ure, not failure.”

Collins reflects on an on-sight climb he once attempted in Colorado over 40 years ago – a moment when, faced with the choice of reaching for a vital handhold called the “Crystal Ball” or giving up…he gave up. 

“Sure, I had less than a twenty percent chance of pulling through to the crystal ball, but because I let go, I'll never know for sure. Perhaps I would have had an extra reserve; perhaps I would have surprised myself and had an extra bit of power to hang on for one more move. Or perhaps—and this turned out to be true—the very next hold is better than it looks. And that's the rub. On the on-sight, you don't know what the next holds feel like. It's the ambiguity—about the holds, the moves, the ability to clip the rope—that makes 100 percent commitment on the on-sight so difficult and yet so exciting”

Collins returned to the same climb several times over the next three years.  On each attempt when things got tough, he chose fall-ure over failure and each time, despite not getting to the top – he discovered something new about the rock and about himself.  “I felt stronger and more satisfied after each attempt that ended in Fall-ure even though I never topped out,” he wrote.   This perseverant spirit would eventually take him to the summit, much to the amazement of more expert climbers who had consistently failed on the same pitch.

The events of 2017 have convinced me that journeying with God is like an on-sight climb.  And when we choose Fall-ure over failure, we cannot lose.  As someone once said:

“The Christian walk is like two parallel railroad tracks – one called “Victory” the other called ‘breakthrough’”

A final illustration before I close[5].  Once a King called Jehoash of Samaria (the northern Kingdom of Israel) approached the great prophet Elisha – now on his deathbed.  “My Father, my Father” he cried – “war is upon us!” 

“Go and get a bow and some arrows” – said Elisha, “and when you are ready, open the East window and fire your arrows”.  With each volley, Elisha proclaimed:  “The arrow of God’s salvation – the arrow that will deliver you from your enemy” 

“Now take your arrows and strike the ground” – said the prophet.

It probably sounded like a weird instruction – it still does today.  But it came from the man of God so obedience was essential.  Jehoash obeyed – but only half-heartedly.  Self consciously no doubt, he struck the ground three times before quitting.

“Why didn’t you hit the ground five or six times?”, said Elisha, “then you would beat your enemy until he was finished. As it is, you’ll defeat him three times only.”

Jehoash DID defeat his enemy three more times but as victories go they were inconclusive and his foe remained a thorn in his side – and the side of his successors - for many years.  Charles Spurgeon later preached a gem of a sermon[6] on this very topic.  In his closing remarks he asks a question we would all do well to consider:

“Behold, the blessed promises of God are before you!  You children of God may be rich, and blessed, and happy; will you leave His mine unworked?”

---

[1] Hereafter referred to as my anchor client

[2] And which in some ways, is still a scary season! 

[3] I did, they sit right next to my mouse and one has been inserted into the luggage tag on the side of my laptop bag

[4] Money and the Prosperous Soul

[5] 2 Kings 13: 18,19

[6] https://www.spurgeongems.org/vols37-39/chs2303.pdf

Go easy on the Springboks

It seems a lifetime since Brand SA brought us its stirring “Alive with Possibility” PSA.  The ad built a reasonably convincing and emotive case for why South Africans should believe in the future.   And even though one prominent economist told me at the time that he was only “cautiously optimistic” about our chances  – the ad persuaded me.

Fast forward to September 2016.  South Africa had just lost to Australia in a terrible display of rugby in Brisbane and there was much gnashing of teeth.  In particular, Twitter seethed with vitriol.  “What's the big deal?” an American friend said to me with a shrug, “where I come from it’s rare to see your team win as often as people expect the Springboks to win”.  I could have slapped him but thought better of it – we were, after all, preparing to go into a meeting.  Perhaps another day.

But that’s just the point.  The Springboks ARE expected to win every game even though the stats suggest that despite two World Cups and a sprinkling of Tri Nations titles, they are likely to win less than 7 games out of 10 – a lot less in fact.  There's no logic to it.

It’s a bizarre fixation when you consider that while our great rugby crisis is unfolding, our universities are burning (and may never recover) and that as many as 5 million children will go to bed hungry tonight – many within a 10km radius of where you live.  To say nothing of Nkandla, the EFF and the NPA.  We are becoming, it would seem, the land of impossibility yet the state of a national sports team ranks right up there with other national emergencies.

 4 Weeks ago, I set out to investigate why.  Over 20 focus groups in 5 major cities and 15 interviews with prominent rugby personalities took me down the rabbit hole that is rugby in South Africa

 At first there were no surprises.  Rugby is a type of social currency.  Even 50 000 fans at Kings Park could not be deterred from having a good afternoon last Saturday despite one of the most humiliating losses in Springbok history.  Rugby is beer, braai and boerewors.  Rugby is a story to tell and a tale to share.  Rugby is our big day out and an excuse to wear an ill-fitting green jersey.  “It is a pretext to stay in touch with one another” – said a young white man from Randburg.  “Win or lose we come together”.  When we invite a foreign friend to our local Currie Cup fixture what we are really doing is giving them a window on our world.

 Then things got a little deeper.  I found that Rugby puts us on the map, provides the perfect canvas to show the world what we’re made of.  And I don’t mean hard tackles and the odd bout of fisticuffs.  Those much-televised Mandela/Pienaar moments were so special because there was the perfect distillation of our national soul – muddied though it may be by recent events.  (By the way, if you were wondering what Mandela said to Rugby’s bad boy James Small moments before the kick-off the answer lies in a book by Dan Retief called “The Springboks and the Holy Grail”.  He said: “my son has a picture of you on his wall James.  He tells me you have a tough fight today against Lomu – he said that if anyone can stop him it’s you”.  I mean – how could we NOT have won?)

 And then things got dark.

 We are a frightened people.  I knew it before setting out but I had no real grasp of the scale of it.  We fear Jacob Zuma, Julius Malema, the #feesmustfall movement, the falling Rand…we fear what may happen to Pravin Gordhan and much more besides.  But these pale into insignificance next to our greatest fear – that we might one day become a nation of nobodies - a junk bond nation.  Comic relief for our friends who have emigrated.  It’s a deeply existential problem actually.  As one depressed fiftysomething resident of Fish Hoek put it, “I’m at the bottom of the food chain and there’s no way out”. 

This is not uncharted territory for us.  In the grim twilight of apartheid, we were literally an obscure nation – known only for the wrong things.  But no matter.   We had a legendary rugby team and test matches were our middle finger to the world.  “Slap all the sanctions you want on us but we will prevail – and should you be so unfortunate as to meet us on the Rugby field we will crush you”.  In this sense, rugby (more precisely winning test rugby) was, in the words of Von Clausewitz, a continuation of politics by other means.

But that was then – what about now?  We are no longer the pariah state we once were.  There’s been a reasonably satisfying flow of success on the rugby field since readmission.  So why do we spend sleepless nights excruciating about the recent developments in rugby?  “It’s like they’ve taken something away from us,” lamented one fan at my local country club after the Wallabies won in Brisbane.  Who he meant by “they” I can only guess but he resembled someone who had just lost something of great importance. 

 It’s simple really.   We behave, for the most part, like a helpless people.  The forces that threaten to tear our nation apart represent too big a fight for Joe Public.   At best we resort to slacktivism on Facebook or spoil a vote or two in the local elections. Those macro forces from which we cower are alive and well in our beloved pastime too:  mismanagement, high-level race politics and a maze of other leadership issues. 

Enter the Springboks.

A test win – no matter how ground out – is the middle finger to “them” – who are doing all “they” can to blot out the future – to hijack our way of life.  For many whites the Springboks are, quite literally, the “Thin Green Line” that patrols and defends the meniscus of hope that remains in our land.  About the only force that comes closer to defending the pride and hope of a nation would be the Marines or the Navy Seals.

In Greek mythology there is a tale of one Sisyphus who, punished by the Gods for his self aggrandisement and deceitfulness was forced to roll an immense boulder up a hill, only to watch it come back and hit him, repeating this action for eternity.  Nothing describes the burden our national team better.  

There’s a picture I really enjoy, taken moments after Japan beat South Africa in the 2015 World Cup opening rounds.  It presents a very different supporters mindset.  One that is as secure in the destiny of his country as he is in the destiny of his team - though he loves rugby, he seems to see the bigger picture.  That guy really has it.   If only I could be like that guy.  

The Great Exchange

Isaiah 53: 2-10

Of the two main Christian Holidays, I enjoy Easter the most.  This is partly because I prefer Hot Cross Buns to Christmas cake.  It’s partly because Easter is far less commercialized than Christmas. Mainly however, I like Easter because of the Easter story.  The Easter Story is an Epic!   By any standards it is crammed with all the ingredients of an epic drama.  It’s got friendship, betrayal, sacrifice, cowardice yet ultimately redemption.  Today however, I’m not assuming you see Easter the same way as me.  You may not even be a follower of Jesus Christ – you may be wondering why Christians make such a big fuss of Easter.  If that’s you I hope that what follows might change not just your view of Easter but of Jesus himself.

*

All great epics have a “backstory”.  To enjoy the Lord of the Rings, it helps to have read The Hobbit.  To enjoy the Return of the Jedi, you have to have seen Star Wars.   The Easter Story also has a backstory only many don’t appreciate it because they find the Bible quite a daunting read.  So let me simplify it for you:

I’ve heard it said that the Bible is nothing more than an account of God’s rescue mission for the lost soul of humanity. Of course, many people today reject the notion that we need rescuing at all! Yet the story of Adam and Eve (Genesis 2 and 3) explains why this “rescue mission” was necessary in the first place. On the one hand we get a picture of what life looks like when people are living in right relationship with God. On the other, we get a picture of what life looks like when people seek to control their destiny apart from God. Their Sin literally separates them from the God who created them.

Centuries later, an apostle named Paul wrote to the church in Rome stressing how Adam and Eve’s rebellion against God didn't just affect them but the entire bloodline of humanity as well.  He explains that:

Romans 5: 12 Sin came into the world because of what one man did.

Paul goes on to write that because of this:

“There is no one who is righteous (by righteous he means acceptable to God), not even one.  All have turned away from God…

Paul then talks about the consequences of this sin as well:

And with sin came death. OR PUT ANOTHER WAY (Eternal separation from the God who created them)

So to summarise - every human, belonging as he or she does to the bloodline of Adam, has been corrupted by Adam’s rebellion.  This corruption means that everyone has sinned which means – as Paul reminds us - that everyone must die – face an eternity separated from God.  This is all pretty gloomy isn’t it? – But it does help explain why God has a rescue mission. 

It also explains why this rescue mission involved sending his only Son.  I mean, can you think of a better way of getting someone to trust you?!  A story by author Phillip Yancey really sheds light on this.  As a boy, Yancey used to maintain a tropical fish tank: 

Maintaining this tank was no easy task.  I had to run a portable chemical laboratory to monitor the chemical levels.  I had to pour vitamins and other goodies into the water to make sure that the coral would grow and that the fish would be healthy.  I filtered the water regularly and exposed the whole tank to ultraviolet light to kill any germs that might breed there.

You would think, in view of all the energy I put into my tank on behalf of those fishes that they would be at least a little bit grateful!  Not So! Every time my shadow loomed above the tank they dived for cover into the nearest shell.  They showed me only one “emotion” – FEAR.  Although I opened the lid and dropped in food three times a day, they responded to each visit as a sure sign of my designs to torture them.  I had no way of convincing them of my true concern for them!!

I suppose in a way, to these fish, I was like a God.  I was way too large for them; my actions – all meant for their benefit - were too difficult for them to understand.  It’s no wonder they kept diving for cover!  I began thinking about what I would have to do to change their perceptions or experience of me.  I realized that there was only one thing I could do – though it was actually impossible.   If I were truly to reach out to my fish I realized that some sort of incarnation was needed – If I was to convince my fish of my good intentions, I would actually have to become a fish myself – be able to “speak” and relate to them in a way that they could understand 

So this is the backstory of Easter.  God is on a mission to rescue humanity.  This mission first begins with His “connecting” with us through his son Jesus - speaking our language – walking in our shoes – facing all the temptations, struggles and trials that we humans face.  But most importantly, doing all this without sinning the way we do

Hebrews 4: For we do not have a saviour who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are

 … yet he did not sin. 

*

Now let’s return to the Easter story.   Having found a way of bringing us into His confidence, God’s plan now addresses that stubborn problem of sin – the one thing that threatens to separate us from God for eternity.  And so…that same son who came to live amongst us must now die for us.  Many people however – even many Christians – battle to understand just how the cross could have dealt with our sin. 

On the face of it, there was nothing that special about crucifixion - it was a common (if gruesome) method of execution in those days.  It was barbaric in the extreme, designed to inflict as much pain and humiliation on the victim.   But to understand how it dealt with our sin we have to look beyond all the blood and gore.  This was no-ordinary death. 

If you read the Gospels, particularly the Gospel of John, you will see that Jesus is sometimes referred to as “The Lamb of God”.  In fact when John the Baptist first sees Jesus, he says “Behold – the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the World”.  What is going on here?

Up to this point, there was a way the Jews would deal with their sins.  It involved confessing their transgressions over a spotless lamb and then geting a priest to sacrifice it on their behalf to make them righteous before God.  This was never a once off event – it had to be done regularly if a person was to maintain his relationship with God. But now Jesus arrives and what John the Baptist is essentially doing is likening him to the same sacrificial lamb of the Jewish tradition.  With one important difference:  this lamb will now take on the sin of the whole world, not just the sin of those who happen to be Jewish. This is a very important thing to understand because while many will concede that Jesus was a great moral teacher – they fail to recognize him as the Saviour of the World. So how did his death save us? 

2 Cor 5: 21 God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. 

The great German reformer Martin Luther called this “The Great Exchange” and here's what it involves: 

• My Sin went to Jesus, His perfection went to me
• My unrighteousness went to Jesus, His righteousness came to me
• My condemnation went to Jesus, His Salvation came to me
• My separation from God the Father went to Jesus, Jesus’ reconciliation with the father came to me
• My death went to Jesus, His life came to me

 But Easter doesn’t end with the Cross.  Easter Sunday is only two days away and with it the incredible news that Jesus is risen from the grave!  The significance of the resurrection is a whole sermon in itself so I’ll hope you’ll come and hear more about it on Sunday

The only thing I’ll say about the resurrection is actually something said by Chinese evangelist Watchman Nee:

“Good Friday and the Cross of Jesus put an end to my old history.  The resurrection of Jesus on Easter Sunday marks the beginning of my new history”

And so this Easter Sunday, when we celebrate Christ’s victory over death – we are also celebrating our victory over death!  (My death went to Jesus his life came to me)

“Where Death where is your victory?  Where o grave is your sting?” – 1 Cor 15

Let’s spend a few moments contemplating the benefits of this incredible rescue mission.  I can think of no better way to do this than by quoting the words of one of the great heroes of the faith – a German named Dietrich Bonhoeffer who openly criticized Hitler’s treatment of the Jews and who paid the ultimate price for doing so

  

“Why are we so afraid when we think about death?  The resurrection has transformed death.  For all we know, we may be shivering at the most glorious, heavenly, blessed event in the world…He who truly understands the resurrection will be homesick from that hour, waiting and looking forward to being released from this bodily existence.  He understands that life only really begins when it ends here on earth, that all that is here is only the prologue before the curtain goes up. Death is the greatest gift of grace that God gives to people who believe in him.  It is the gateway to our homeland, the tabernacle of joy, and the everlasting kingdom of peace.

Just months after writing these lines, Bonhoeffer faced a Nazi executioner at Flossenburg Prison.  That day, April 8, 1945 he said to a fellow inmate:  “This is the end – for me the beginning of life”. 

*

We’ve been reflecting on God’s rescue mission.  But there’s a sober footnote to it all.  God will only rescue those who believe in his name and who treat him as Lord of their lives.  By believing, I mean a state of dependence in which we cling to, adhere to, trust in and rely totally upon Jesus for everything. 

This carries huge implications as we examine our hearts before Christ this morning. 

Adventure waits for no one

We men were made for adventure.  That's because, according to John Eldredge (author of the bestseller "Wild at Heart"), Adam was created in the wilderness beyond Eden - while Eve was created inside the Garden where things were beautiful and serene.  Says Eldredge:

"Every man was once a young boy.  And every little boy has dreams, big dreams:  dreams of being a hero, of beating the bad guys, of doing daring feats and rescuing the damsel in distress"

Eldredge has been pilloried from some quarters for his views on masculinity but, at least for me, the fact remains.  We men are made for adventure. 

The reminder came from an unlikely source -  Ben Stiller's 2013 re-make of "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty".  Mitty is Eldredge's "little boy", albeit in a grown man's body.  His dead end job as a "negative assets manager" (photo archivist) for Life Magazine is punctuated by fantastical flights of fancy that make him the butt end of everyone's jokes.    

Then one day he receives a mysterious gift from Life Magazine's maverick photographer Sean O'Connell - a gift that will propel him on an epic journey of his own.  His lurid fantasies will soon pale against real life backdrops of erupting volcanoes and towering mountain ranges, drama on the high seas and encounters with Afghan warlords.

I wouldn't know where to start describing all that this movie stirred up in me so I won't even try.  But one scene in particular stands out.  After a long and dangerous search, Mitty finally locates O'Connell on a remote ridge in the Himalayas.  The latter has finally tracked an elusive Snow Leopard to its lair and is about to capture the picture of a lifetime.  When the creature finally reveals itself, Mitty is astonished to see that O'Connell delays the shot long enough to allow the animal to disappears unphotographed.  "Sometimes I just like to savour the moment without the distractions of the camera and lenses" says O'Connell.

That for me is the essence of adventure.  Savouring and acting on the moments that present themselves rather than trying to stress one's way into some hyper-adrenalised sweet spot.  I witnessed this first hand on my 2012 visit to Nepal.  As we acclimatised for our ascent of the Thorung La Pass, most of us fretted and fussed over our readiness for life at altitude.  The fear wasn't that of not summiting, it was the prospect of succumbing to altitude sickness and having to retrace our footsteps to Katmandu.  We'd come to do the Annapurna Circuit and by golly we'd settle for nothing less!  Two Israeli travellers however saw things quite differently.  While our "rest" days were spent humping up and down mountains to acclimatise, their's were spent reclining in the sun, brewing coffee, twanging on a guitar and smoking the hubbly-bubbly.  When asked about their happy-go-lucky dispositions they said: "We may summit, we may not.  But who cares?  We're on holiday. Anything's better than being in Israel at the moment".  

"No valid plans for the future can be made by those who have no capacity for living in the now", said someone on Pinterest.   Go ahead and live for adventure.  But make sure you don't miss it in the moment.