Shame exists when we know we are settling for less than we are made for. Before the disobedience of Adam and Eve, Genesis states that they were naked and unashamed. That must have felt great! However, through their disobedience they empty themselves of their true identities, and settle for less than they were made for. In short, for the first time, they felt shame, and tried to hide from God.
Shame is a horrible feeling. It makes us want to be alone. But even in Genesis 3 there are signs of redemption, as God searches out the people who have betrayed him. He simply asks them 'Where are you?' God doesn't want to leave his people in that place of shame, he wants to find them and heal them. And therefore God takes them back to the source of their pain and shame by asking: 'Have you eaten from the tree that I commanded you not to eat from?' Restoration involves undoing what has been done: it involves going back in order to move forward with freedom.
I recently reread the story of Peter's betrayal of Jesus. Jesus had believed in Peter from the very beginning, and demonstrated his trust in Peter time and time again. However, Peter gets one opportunity to demonstrate his belief in Jesus as the Messiah, and instead of sticking up for Jesus, he disowns Jesus, claiming to not know him. In Luke 22 Peter is asked if he was one of Jesus’ disciples right in front of Jesus. Listen to his response:
Peter replied, "Man, I don't know what you're talking about!" Just as he was speaking, the rooster crowed. The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him: "Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times." And he went outside and wept bitterly.
Just as Peter disowns Jesus, it says that Jesus looked him straight in the eye. Ouch! What do you think Peter saw in Jesus’ eyes? Surely it was the face of a hurting man who has just been rejected by his best friend. I don’t think Peter would have slept one wink during the next 3 days. That one look would have been seared on his mind's eye. Peter wept bitterly, because he was an absolutely broken man.
But this broken shell of a man experiences two forms of restoration. The next thing we read about Peter was that he was back with the disciples. He had just betrayed Jesus, as well as the rest of the disciples, and anyone would think that the disciples would want absolutely nothing to do with him. Yet he’s embraced back in. They stick by him at his lowest point.
And then comes the climactic moment when he sees Jesus again – when he looks Jesus straight in the eye again. Will he see that same face of disappointment? Jesus simply asks him the question 'Do you love me?' But he asks him three times, which isn’t a mistake. Each question and each answer was an opportunity to heal the wound that each statement of betrayal had caused. Jesus takes Peter back to his lowest point: his place of shame.
This point is made clear in the gospel narrative. The scene in which Peter first betrays Jesus is set out in John 18:
It was cold, and the servants and officials stood around a fire they had made to keep warm. Peter also was standing with them, warming himself.
However, Peter's moment of restoration (John 21) also takes place by a fire. In fact, the Greek word used here is only found in all of the New Testament in these two texts. The point is obvious: Jesus takes Peter back to that place of failure, and in doing so restores him. Peter can now freely say, 'You know I love you.'
The result is that by the time you get to the books of Acts, Peter isn’t a man with skeletons in the closet: a man driven by the need to redeem himself. He is now a man that has experienced grace beyond grace, ready to fight and eventually die for the cause of God’s kingdom.
We all settle for less than we are made for. We all experience shame. But God's grace is that he searches us out, and in entering our place of shame, he brings healing and restoration. That's what the incarnation and the cross are all about. Christ takes on our identity so that we might take on his. He enters our shame that we might enter his glory. However, we have a part to play in such an incredible process. We have to be willing to be found. We have to welcome Christ into our place of shame: we have to respond to his simple question: 'Where are you?'
Monday, 16 February 2009
Sunday, 1 February 2009
Tuesday, 20 January 2009
This is my son, whom I love...
Benj Levi Hughes arrived into this world on 10th January 2009 at an impressive 9lbs 3 ounces, starting as he means to go on. His name means 'favoured worshipper'. He's an absolute beauty, and mum and dad are proud beyond words.
Tuesday, 6 January 2009
Community and New Monasticism
Bonhoeffer once said: ‘The restoration of the church will surely come from a sort of new monasticism which has in common with the old the uncompromising attitude of a life lived according to the Sermon on the Mount in the following of Christ. I believe it is now time to call people together to do this.’
Talk of a ‘new monasticism’ has become pretty popular recently with best-selling books such as ‘Punk Monk’ and ‘The Irresistible Revolution’ reminding the church of the critical place of community to the purposes of God, and specifically to the journey of discipleship. Unfortunately the language of monasticism carries with it the negative connotations of withdrawing from the world in a form of spirituality that involves isolated introspection and extreme asceticism. However, at its heart, monasticism (as Benedict, Bonhoeffer and others understood it) is not about withdrawal but about appropriate engagement with the world. The monastic community provided the context for disciples to learn what it meant to live for Christ in such a way that ushered in his kingdom in the world. Specifically, it taught the disciples three critical lessons: how to die, how to live and how to love. I believe these three lessons lie at the centre of all Christian discipleship.
Community: the means by which we learn to die
Before a Christian truly learns to live, a Christian has to learn how to die. As Jesus stated, "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.” Monastic communities encouraged certain disciplines that enabled this journey towards humility (and ultimately self-death) to take place, including serving others, obedience and confession. For example, on the subject of confession, Bonhoeffer states: ‘Confession in the presence of a brother is the profoundest kind of humiliation. It hurts, it cuts a man down, it is a dreadful blow to the pride. To stand there before a brother as a sinner is an ignominy that is almost unbearable. In the confession of concrete sins the old man dies a painful, shameful death before the eyes of a brother… In the deep mental and physical pain of humiliation before a brother – which means before God – we experience the Cross of Jesus as our rescue and salvation. The old man dies, but it is God who has conquered him. Now we share in the resurrection of Christ and eternal life.’ Self-death was not the end of the road but the beginning. Through the community, the disciple learnt to die with Christ in order to be raised with Christ and start participating in the life of the age to come.
Community: the means by which we learn to live
Experiencing eternal life was the ultimate purpose and goal of the monastic community. Such life was to be shaped by the teachings of Jesus. Benedict suggests: ‘The Lord waits for us daily to translate into action, as we should, his holy teachings… But as we progress in this way of life and faith, we shall run on the path of God’s commandments, our hearts overflowing with the inexpressible delight of love. Never swerving from his instructions, then, but faithfully observing his teaching in the monastery until death, we shall through patience share in the sufferings of Christ that we may also deserve to share in his kingdom.’ The monastic community provided the context for this journey of aligning one’s life to the teachings of Jesus to take place.
Community: the means by which we learn to love
The ‘path of God’s commandments’ primarily relates to the Great Commandments. The leading figures of early monasticism (such as Benedict) were all trying to provide a setting in which one could live out more readily than elsewhere the two great commandments of love of God and love of neighbour. The disciplines of worship, scripture reading, prayer, hospitality and serving the poor all served this end.
A new monasticism will obviously look very different to the visions of Benedict and later Bonhoeffer. However, in the consumer culture of our day, the only way to be truly countercultural is to form committed communities that seek to give themselves away in love rather than simply consume and accumulate more. Such communities can only exist through the disciplines evident in much of the monastic movement. As Ian Bradley suggests: ‘How do we begin to keep in time with the deep pulsations of Eternity and establish colonies of heaven in a society that is profoundly materialistic and secular? One way is by establishing communities which embrace many of the disciplines.’ Only then will we rediscover that learning to die, learning to live and learning to love are central to the kingdom agenda of Jesus.
Talk of a ‘new monasticism’ has become pretty popular recently with best-selling books such as ‘Punk Monk’ and ‘The Irresistible Revolution’ reminding the church of the critical place of community to the purposes of God, and specifically to the journey of discipleship. Unfortunately the language of monasticism carries with it the negative connotations of withdrawing from the world in a form of spirituality that involves isolated introspection and extreme asceticism. However, at its heart, monasticism (as Benedict, Bonhoeffer and others understood it) is not about withdrawal but about appropriate engagement with the world. The monastic community provided the context for disciples to learn what it meant to live for Christ in such a way that ushered in his kingdom in the world. Specifically, it taught the disciples three critical lessons: how to die, how to live and how to love. I believe these three lessons lie at the centre of all Christian discipleship.
Community: the means by which we learn to die
Before a Christian truly learns to live, a Christian has to learn how to die. As Jesus stated, "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.” Monastic communities encouraged certain disciplines that enabled this journey towards humility (and ultimately self-death) to take place, including serving others, obedience and confession. For example, on the subject of confession, Bonhoeffer states: ‘Confession in the presence of a brother is the profoundest kind of humiliation. It hurts, it cuts a man down, it is a dreadful blow to the pride. To stand there before a brother as a sinner is an ignominy that is almost unbearable. In the confession of concrete sins the old man dies a painful, shameful death before the eyes of a brother… In the deep mental and physical pain of humiliation before a brother – which means before God – we experience the Cross of Jesus as our rescue and salvation. The old man dies, but it is God who has conquered him. Now we share in the resurrection of Christ and eternal life.’ Self-death was not the end of the road but the beginning. Through the community, the disciple learnt to die with Christ in order to be raised with Christ and start participating in the life of the age to come.
Community: the means by which we learn to live
Experiencing eternal life was the ultimate purpose and goal of the monastic community. Such life was to be shaped by the teachings of Jesus. Benedict suggests: ‘The Lord waits for us daily to translate into action, as we should, his holy teachings… But as we progress in this way of life and faith, we shall run on the path of God’s commandments, our hearts overflowing with the inexpressible delight of love. Never swerving from his instructions, then, but faithfully observing his teaching in the monastery until death, we shall through patience share in the sufferings of Christ that we may also deserve to share in his kingdom.’ The monastic community provided the context for this journey of aligning one’s life to the teachings of Jesus to take place.
Community: the means by which we learn to love
The ‘path of God’s commandments’ primarily relates to the Great Commandments. The leading figures of early monasticism (such as Benedict) were all trying to provide a setting in which one could live out more readily than elsewhere the two great commandments of love of God and love of neighbour. The disciplines of worship, scripture reading, prayer, hospitality and serving the poor all served this end.
A new monasticism will obviously look very different to the visions of Benedict and later Bonhoeffer. However, in the consumer culture of our day, the only way to be truly countercultural is to form committed communities that seek to give themselves away in love rather than simply consume and accumulate more. Such communities can only exist through the disciplines evident in much of the monastic movement. As Ian Bradley suggests: ‘How do we begin to keep in time with the deep pulsations of Eternity and establish colonies of heaven in a society that is profoundly materialistic and secular? One way is by establishing communities which embrace many of the disciplines.’ Only then will we rediscover that learning to die, learning to live and learning to love are central to the kingdom agenda of Jesus.
Thursday, 1 January 2009
Wednesday, 24 December 2008
Happy Christmas!
At Christmas we celebrate that God took on flesh in the person of his Son, being born in a shed in a nowhere town outside of Jerusalem. In celebrating Jesus' birth we celebrate very humble beginnings, but we do so in the light of all that has been accomplished through his life and death. Therefore, in celebrating the birth of Jesus we also celebrate our new birth, because on that first Christmas, everything began to change. In the birth of his Son, God's plan to give birth to a new humanity was set in motion. Perhaps the best language for this is recreation. The fact that John's Gospel begins by echoing the opening words of Genesis (In the beginning...), suggests that in Jesus, God is going about his work of recreation. Recreation is then affirmed a few chapters later when Jesus tells Nicodemus that he needs to be born again (or born from above). Something new is taking place in and around Jesus!
To fully grasp hold of this we have to remember that we cannot separate or compartmentalise the different parts of the story of Jesus. His birth, his life, his death and his resurrection all belong together in the one story of God's engagement with the world he so loves. Therefore in celebrating the beginning of Jesus' earthly life (his incarnation), we also celebrate all that followed (his death and resurrection). We need to be wary of focussing all our attention on the cross in such a way that forgets or diminishes the incarnation. The incarnation was not simply the means to the end of the atonement. Instead, as Julian of Norwich once stated, the atonement secured the end of the incarnation, which was the ontological recreation of our humanity. Through the death of Christ (which she described as the ‘labour pains’ of the cross), the old humanity is put to death in order that a new humanity might be born. As Paul says in 2 Corinthians 5:17, ‘if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!’
Therefore as we celebrate God's extravagant love in the giving of his only begotten Son to be born in 'sinful flesh', we also celebrate that in his death that flesh has been defeated in order that new life may emerge. Put simply, for those in Christ, the birth of Jesus is cause to celebrate our own rebirth - we are now sons and daughters of the one true King.
Oh, and by the way, Happy Christmas!
To fully grasp hold of this we have to remember that we cannot separate or compartmentalise the different parts of the story of Jesus. His birth, his life, his death and his resurrection all belong together in the one story of God's engagement with the world he so loves. Therefore in celebrating the beginning of Jesus' earthly life (his incarnation), we also celebrate all that followed (his death and resurrection). We need to be wary of focussing all our attention on the cross in such a way that forgets or diminishes the incarnation. The incarnation was not simply the means to the end of the atonement. Instead, as Julian of Norwich once stated, the atonement secured the end of the incarnation, which was the ontological recreation of our humanity. Through the death of Christ (which she described as the ‘labour pains’ of the cross), the old humanity is put to death in order that a new humanity might be born. As Paul says in 2 Corinthians 5:17, ‘if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!’
Therefore as we celebrate God's extravagant love in the giving of his only begotten Son to be born in 'sinful flesh', we also celebrate that in his death that flesh has been defeated in order that new life may emerge. Put simply, for those in Christ, the birth of Jesus is cause to celebrate our own rebirth - we are now sons and daughters of the one true King.
Oh, and by the way, Happy Christmas!
Monday, 1 December 2008
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