Footsteps idly wandering
in circles
is a soul
without an anchor.
Seeking not
or knowing not,
but meandering
all the same.
But even anchors
break loose
and fail to hold.
Some drag on ocean floors
or snag on unseen perils.
To what buoy or mooring
does your soul cling?
Where does your heart
find a home
with warmth,
memory and belonging?
When John Hus, John Wycliffe, Martin Luther, John Calvin and many others sought the reform of the church, their initial intention was not to start a new denomination. In fact, Hus and Wycliffe died in the church in which they were born. The dominant issues they were confronted by, and in turn confronted, revolved around the primacy of the Word, the Papacy, doctrines added by the church, and corruption. Half a millennium later there are some of the old issues but also many new ones as well as old issues dressed in new clothes. The other day I asked if we needed a new reformation. If we do, what would need to be reformed? Here are some thoughts in no particular order except the first:
I believe there needs to be a return to the understanding of the inerrancy of Scripture. Too many churches and believers now treat the Word of God as a “guide” rather than God speaking to His people. Does that mean there will no disagreements? Not at all. We still need to understand what is said, however, we will begin from a common understanding.
The Word in Hand
From the time of the Edict of Milan in 313 there has been a steady and unwavering progression of the church from organism to organisation. The Reformation didn’t deal with it but now, more than ever in our disintegrating social fabric, the church needs to reveal the power of community – the body of Christ.
These are a few random thoughts on the need for reform. We, particularly in the West, need to confess our failings, our wandering from God and His Word and humbly seek to start afresh. What do you think?
The following, amazing quote, comes from the introduction to Abraham Kuyper’s delightful collection of devotions: To Be Near Unto God.
Love for God may be fine sentiment. It may be sincere and capable of inspiring holy enthusiasm, while the soul is still a stranger to fellowship with the eternal, and ignorant of the secret walk with God. The great God may still not be your God. Your heart may still not be attuned to the passionate outburst of delight: I love the Lord. For love of God in general is so largely love for the idea of God, love for the Fountain of life, the Source of all good, the Watcher of Israel who never slumbers; in brief, love for him who, whatever else changes, abides the same eternally.
But when the heart can say: I love the Lord, the idea of the Eternal becomes personified. Then God becomes the Shepherd who leads us, the Father who spiritually begat us, the covenant-God to whom we sustain the covenant relation, the Friend who offers us friendship, the Lord whom we serve, the God of our trust, who is no longer merely God, but our God.
Abraham Kuyper, To Be Near Unto God, Kindle Edition.
The footsteps
of those who have
walked before
are often deep and weary.
These footprints,
impressed by
burdens and loads
are beyond
my ken.
My thankfulness
is not always
fulsome.
My remembrance
not always
aware.
In fact,
my steps
show
rushed
ingratitude;
Careless
stomping
over distant memories
and fragile treasures.
Past ghosts,
forgive
my
unthinking
selfishness
and careless disregard
of paths forged
that speed my journey.
My dad and fellow workers in WW2. Dad is top left.
I have reflected previously on some of my father’s experiences as a conscripted worker in Germany during WW2. (See here) Dutch workers had more freedom than others as the German authorities simply said, “If you abscond we will pick up your father to take your place.”
My father worked north of Berlin in a place called Hennigsdorf on the Havel river. In 1945 he and his fellow workers were liberated by the advancing Soviet armies. The workers found themselves in the midst of extremely harrowing battles as the German army made its last ditch stand.
One of the few detailed stories my dad told me about this part of his life centred on this liberation. By 1945 his clothes, and in particular shoes, were in a state of extreme deterioration. One of the liberating soldiers motioned (language being a useless option!) to my father that he should find a German soldier’s corpse with the right boot size and “liberate” them for his own use. I gather there were quite a few and they all wore high quality boots. But even after years of war my dad was still squeamish about such matters. The Russian soldier, seeing my dad’s reluctance, took off his own boots gave them to my dad and then went in search for an appropriately sized and equipped corpse.
Yes, it is a strange story, yet I have always seen it as an act of unusual, but real, grace. This was one of only a very few experiences that my father ever shared with me about that time of his life. The grace shown in the midst of horror was a memory he could share.
The pulpit in the old church at Gamla Uppsala
“Deo Volente” is not a phrase used much nowadays, yet it speaks of a wonderful attitude.
Deo Volente, often shortened to D.V. simply means “God willing”. Like many Latin phrases its real meaning has been lost in the mists of time. “N.B”, “A.D.” and “C.V.” are just some other examples. In the past letters and messages were often annotated with “D.V.” It acknowledged that any human plans were subject to God’s will.
Deo Volente, at its heart, speaks of an attitude before God. It recognises that our plans are always subject to His will and purposes. God is sovereign and I am not. It is a phrase of humility and acceptance. Not resignation, but the acknowledgement that ultimately God’s purposes and plans far outweigh my wishes and petty ambitions.
It is also a phrase of comfort. Whatever happens in my life is not governed by fate or chance but is overruled by a God who sent His son to reveal His love for His children and who cares for them into eternity. It is a comfort because He has told me, that love is what He wills.
A wood carving in the Melide Museum, Spain, of boys playing marbles
When we were playing marbles around the the cypress trees at Ocean Grove Primary School, little did we comprehend how complicated life would become. Our only interest was winning, honing our skills and showing the other boys how clever we were.
There is an innocence and naivete in being young that is precious because once innocence is lost, it can never be regained. Innocence allows the young to wonder, imagine and rejoice in the world around them. This guilelessness makes wonder and exploration exciting and new. The ocean is a catalyst for stories and wonderful horizons, a forest, a place of scary stories and imaginary creatures … and so on.
It is bad enough that wars and famines destroy that youthful wonder daily, but even when we don’t have these monstrosities we still kill wonder. To put it coldly: too many of our young children know too much. They don’t have to wonder or imagine because it is all done for them. Television and the internet leaves nothing for their forming imaginations. But this loss of innocence is particularly noticeable when it comes to human sexuality. What the average 12 year old knows today far exceeds the knowledge of most 12 year old fifty years ago. Has this extra, early knowledge made for healthier adult humans? I don’t think so. It has tragically led to an overly sexualised society from our children up. Sexuality has lost much of its wonder, beauty and mystique. But I digress.
My plea is that we give our children room to wonder, imagine and explore without imposing upon them our adult understanding too early. That reality will come soon enough – we don’t need to rush it. Our kids need to room to imagine, explore and create – to reveal the world as they see it.
I wonder what Leonardo da Vinci’s childhood was like? I can’t imagine that his parents told him that his fantastical pictures of helicopters and machines were idiotic imaginings. He, I think, was allowed to wonder, and that wonder stayed with him for his whole life.
If your eyes are attuned, when you travel around France and Spain there are numerous signs indicating the Camino to Santiago. They are on walls, paths and buildings. They are a silent indication that you are on one of the many paths leading to the Spanish city of Santiago. But I had never noticed them until I had actually gone on a portion of the pilgrimage. After that, I bumped into these signs regularly – I began to notice them. Until I had consciously connected these signs with the pilgrimage, these signs were invisible to me.
We need to have this sense of attunement too, with the representation of Christ in the Old Testament.
The Old Testament, without seeing Jesus is, quite bluntly, a pointless book. The promise of Christ is the backbone that holds the Old Testament together. But when we start to look for him, he is not just in the promises and prophecies, but can also be glimpsed in key people (e.g. Moses – prophet, priest and king), ceremonies and rituals (the sacrifices in Leviticus find their reality in Jesus) and events (the exodus from Egypt and the entrance into the promised land declare so much about Jesus and the reason for his incarnation). The coming of Jesus, and Satan’s desire to prevent his birth is a continuous undercurrent that surges through the highs and lows of God’s people in Old Testament history. What if David had been killed by Goliath or Joseph had been killed by his brothers? What would have happened to God’s promises?
O.k. God is sovereign, yet we see that sovereignty against a backdrop of Satan’s hatred and humanity’s sin. The golden thread that draws the Old Testament into a unified story of God’s salvation history is the promise of Christ – the Messiah.
One other reason for recognising this important truth: it prevents the Old Testament from becoming just another version of a morality tale alongside brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Andersen. The O.T goes far beyond “daring to be a Daniel” or “having the courage of David” it is about God and his plans to see the King and the Kingdom come.
A book that does a wonderful job relating Jesus and his kingdom to the Old Testament is Graeme Goldsworthy’s Gospel and Kingdom. It has been around for a while yet it is still a great introduction to open ones eyes to Jesus, his kingdom and the way it is revealed in the Old Testament.
Gospel and Kingdom is a book I have purchased on a number of occasions and yet I don’t have a copy on my shelves because I have given it away or “loaned” it on numerous occasions.
I had intended to meet up with my uncle and aunt and as a consequence I found myself in a country town hall with 150 people dressed in orange clothes.
No, it wasn’t a Hari Krishna gathering, but rather, Dutch people from Western Victoria celebrating their origins with food and festivities in a small town called Timboon. It hadn’t been my intention to go there but that was where my rellies were going to be – the mountain and Mohammed and all that. Behind some trestle tables there was a roaring trade in Dutch foods – soups, bread toppings (Dutchies love there chocolate and candy sprinkles), biscuits and so on.
I knew I was among Dutch people. There were very few “please’s” and “excuses me’s”. Everything was stated in that unnervingly abrupt “take it or leave it” manner – not malicious just matter of fact! It is a way of conversing that makes our German cousins, in contrast, appear downright warm and friendly.
Some of the people, like me, were very young when they immigrated and yet here they were celebrating the coronation of a new king, doing quizzes about the Dutch royal family and trying to speak Dutch – asking each other what boat they came out on. Yes, most of us were 1950s boat people!
This unexpected experience was a bizarre reminder that our first few years can have such a powerful and life long influence on us. Most of these people have spent the vast majority of their lives in Australia and yet there is a corner of their heart that is always a flat, soggy, tulip infested part of Holland.
Well, I had better put aside the roll mops and zoute drop, find my clogs so I can go out and do some gardening in this blistering 10C heat!
Last weekend I listened, once again, to Michael Card’s CD, The Ancient Faith, a musical tour through the Old Testament with an underlying theme of the coming of Christ. Even though it is nearly 20 years old it is still a marvelous work for a variety of reasons. Not the least, it honours Scripture.
We have on this album, magnificent Biblical themes which are combined with appropriate and beautifully composed music. To me, it epitomises what good Christian music can be. It would be difficult for a believer to listen to this and not a. worship and praise God, b. gain greater insights into the Bible and c. be inspired by the love of God.
One way Michael Card does this, for me, is by expressing Scripture from the point of view of various characters. The most striking is “The Song of Gomer” as she reflects on Hosea’s love. In fact, Gomer’s song becomes our song as we reflect and rejoice in the love that Christ has given us.
If you haven’t listened to this album for while, find it and find a quiet room and a quiet hour or so and let Michael Card minister the Word to you.
What Christian albums speak to you? I would love to hear your responses.
Travels from Ur 