Jesus My Motivation

Being a follower of Christ is not an automatic daily trek. There are elements of discipline to it and there are routines that help to build healthy habits once they are firmly embedded in life. For all that, though, because this is a journey and an ongoing progress there is always something to challenge us and make us think about where we’re going and how we’re going to get there.

It is another superb Sabbath evening, though it be raining outside, and I’m grateful to God for so many wonderful blessings over another challenging week.

Today I was at the Beacon House of Prayer, a place to which I regularly take a group of people from the YMCA to explore faith in a bit more detail or just to relax and find some peaceful, prayerful, meditative experiences. There is an angel at the Beacon who faithfully every Friday gives me a bag of fruit. Today she gave TWO bags of fruit to me! Ode to joy. Now you may recall, if you’ve read your bible, there’s the episode where the spies go into the promised land to check it out and come back with some large bounty. Well, let me tell you, the grapes in today’s bag of fruit was perhaps as big as the bounty they brought! My goodness they were large grapes for which I am truly grapeful, as are the rest of my people who will share in the bounty!

Anyway, as I sit enjoying the Sabbath evening in the knowledge that my family are likewise chilling in various parts of the home, I’m watching a television adaptation of Pilgrim’s Progress called Dangerous Journey. It looks like it was produced quite a while ago by Yorkshire Television, but it’s a fascinating watch. I’m on about the third episode where Christian meets Formalist and Hypocrisy.

Now I’m aware that one of the standards of a true believer that as well as the Bible, you’re meant to have read Pilgrim’s Progress. Alas I have not read it. I think my dad had a copy at home, but I don’t recall ever picking it up. Indeed I’ve never even picked it up to see if I wanted to read, let alone read it. So although I’ve heard references to it and the like, this is the first time I’ve actually tackled the book, even if it’s a television adaptation, that I’m watching on YouTube (now talk about crossing the media over the years). Now by television adaptation it is one of those illustrated stories with a narrator talking over the pictures. It still makes for good viewing.

Watching it reminds me of some of the challenges I’ve experienced today. In the story so far, what’s apparent is that Christian’s journey only continues when he’s reminded of his motivation – why he is doing what he is doing. I find it really difficult to motivate myself sometimes. Indeed, to be fair, often on my life’s journey self-motivation has been a huge issue. It has not been too encouraging to be reminded of this weakness in none too constructive a manner, which can be the tactic of some. On reflection, however, with no desire to appear to have cracked the subject, there has been clear indication that there have been a number of victories in the department. So as I grapple with the motivation issue, I am reminded of the key to success in these struggles.

That key is simple, remember Christ. Now that in itself is a fairly monumental piece of advice, because it is the equivalent to remember the Encyclopaedia Britannica times infinity. Not just the miraculous birth, the parables, the miracles, the teaching, the agony, the crucifixion, the resurrection, the ascension and promised return, but even more – His very character, His role in the Old Testament, His role in the post apostolic era.

Thinking about Him as my motivation does not get rid of the circumstances that affected me in the first place. Indeed in some cases those circumstances persist and become at times rather more aggravating. What the focus does, however, is remind me of the journey that I am on and the goal that I seek, the One whom I profess to love and devote my life. Sometimes even stopping and engaging in some of the information about who He is can actually make thankful for the trouble in the first place, because it gave such an opportunity to be reminded of such a great Saviour.

I remember seeing some people spoof the acting profession and say a phrase to the director ‘where’s my motivation’. It’s not always apparent in the middle of trying times and difficult decisions, but my motivation remains ever present, always reminding me that He intends to stay that way to the very end. That He is all my sufficiency and as long as I keep my eyes on Him and my mind stayed on Him, then progress will be made for this pilgrim.

For His Name's Sake

Shalom

dmcd

Power and Freedom

So I’m reading about Michael Foot as you know and it’s just one of a number of books of a political flavour. A good question to ask is what is it with all the politics? I find it interesting that some cultural traditions have it that around the dinner table or in the home two subjects are not discussed, religion and politics. Two of the most important issues of life are not to be discussed over the most intimate setting of family. Interesting, that. We never had that rule at home because politics wasn’t talked about anyway. Dad wasn’t one to talk about politics, because it never appeared to bother him. I think he voted, but he never made a big deal of it. Stuff would happen and he wouldn’t comment on it. Likewise my mother, vociferous on issues as she was, never made that much of a big deal about politics. I got into it through my interest in books.

This is not a bit about how I love politics. It is a bit, however, about how politics is about power and the problem we have with power. The saying power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely is interesting because no one ever has absolute power, but the desire for power continues to corrupt everyone. When we were younger so much younger than today and perhaps never needed anybody’s help in anyway there was that eager excitement about being an adult. There was something exciting about being able to do whatever we wanted and to practice all the adult stuff that we looked at – expressions of the will, expressions of power to do whatever it is we wanted to do without recourse to restrictive parental … power. The power would be ours. Don’t get me wrong, nothing wrong with wanting to grow up and stuff, but the allure wasn’t responsibility – too much hard work – the allure was that little bit of power.

The problem then comes in with how that power is meant to be exercised and how it’s actually exercised. Whatever the culture, whatever the philosophy there is something running in it that promises some level of control and power. You don’t have to be religious to buy into it, the thing works through family, sports and is blatant in the business world and other areas of the world of work. We tolerate restrictions to power only in as much as it allows us to express that power for self-satisfaction elsewhere. So far, apparently nothing wrong with that. Then we meet Jesus and discover there’s plenty wrong with that. Plenty in the sense that it’s all for the glory of man, whereas doing things for another’s glory would require giving up that power, leaving it to be used by someone else for their glory. Almost as if we revert back to that position where we aspire to something we would never experience.

The funny thing about it is, that in giving up all that we desired so much, it is in the light of this that real freedom is experienced. It is only when the quest for power and control is yielded to a desire to find love from its true Source that all that has ever been desired is made possible.

For His Name's Sake

Shalom

dmcd

When Good Neighbours Become Good Friends

I’m not sure what wisdom there is to help with the nature of your countenance on being awoken from some effort to get some kip. Are the fruit of the Spirit meant to be evident when you’ve been stirred from your slumbers by something of gross irrelevance and stupidity, even if that is just perceived? What are you like in those circumstances? Does the love of Christ just ooze from you naturally to those who have disturbed you?

No that’s not the theme of this post, but it’s a good way of getting some of those illusive questions of life off my chest.

So I was disturbed from my slumbers by some people who had responded to the wife’s ebay business, so they came to collect their loot. That’s not a problem, perfectly reasonable especially as there had been a prior arrangement agreed with the wife before this time. (Apparently, according to an episode of Law & Order: Criminal Intent, if I should refer to Authrine as the wife again it maybe an indicator that we’re separated. That’s really funny. As in that kind of deduction, not being separated from Authrine. We’re not separated. We’re very much together.)

Where was I? Oh yeah, the people coming to collect their loot. Yeah, that’s fine, no problem with that, but then some other people turned up and asked what I perceived at the time in my recently awoken state to be irrelevant and stupid questions. My ire was not raised sufficiently to unleash the full force of Dryden sardonic wit and sarcasm in a dismissive manner to establish their gross inferiority at that time. I did however make it clear that there was no further room for conversation other than through monosyllaballic answers. (What do you mean monosyllaballic isn’t a word? What is it then?)

Taking the hint the perps in question did not stay long. It was as they were leaving and the ebay purchasers moved on that my wife chose that time to make her presence known – timing indeed worthy of her relatively new name – Dryden. (For if there is one thing I love with a passion is timing things in such a way that I avoid as much fuss as possible and just live in the tranquillity of the aftermath.) As she parked up, our next door neighbour was also at the door, perhaps her attention was taken with the moving carrying on. In any case, so there I was in the arched doorway where the next door neighbour could not see me, and there was the wife coming out of the car to see both her and me in our respective though next door archways.

Ever the recluse I took this as my hint to withdraw into the confines of my front room, whilst the wife engaged in conversation with our neighbour. On finally coming into the house my beloved partner of days shared the nature of the conversation and it acted as a spur to write this entry.

If you are unaware let me make it clear to you that followers of Jesus have challenges in various elements of the following. He often calls us to do things and be things that draw us out from ourselves into Himself. It differs from person to person. For me I’ve had tremendous challenges being a good neighbour. I have not overcome totally as yet, but I can see where over the last ten years I’ve made some progress in the area thanks to a lot of good influences like my wife, my church leader Hughie, my boss Danny and others.

Recently the local church was highlighting a series on Compassion 2009 and I had the privilege of going through some of the parables of Jesus and highlighting how compassion was at His source of the mission and ministry. I spent a month or two (one session a week, not every day of the month, although we probably could have done that) exploring the story of the Good Samaritan as found in Luke. Checking that whole episode in its immediate context and relating it to other significant things that God had been outlining since Cain knocked off his brother is highly revelatory for what the basics are in terms of loving your neighbour whether it is your enemy that’s suffering, or your next door neighbour.

Funnily enough at the same time I’d moved from one area of the city to another. You may recall I’d written copiously on the subject at the time. So as we settled down in the place where we are currently residing it was one of my desires to put this in action and show an active interest in the welfare of our neighbours. It was definitely a trip on the odd for me with my tendency to keep myself locked up and reading, writing or that kind of stuff. It’s not that I’m anti-social completely, as the friends I have can attest, I can be quite the conversationalist more than capable of banter. I am also very keen to develop relationships properly – not just based on projects and schemes that we’re doing together, but based on an interest in the person for who I discover them to be, and how I can likewise share my vulnerabilities with them. So the only barrier to me being a good neighbour has always been to take the initiative to engage with my neighbour.

In the six and a half years of married life to Authrine, it’s quite something to see how she naturally gravitates to being a good neighbour in building relationships with them and striking a knowing rapport as her retiring, reclusive husband hides himself behind another book. She has such an amiable spirit that on meeting her it’s difficult to take offense, unless you’re just ornery by nature.

So in terms of where we are at the moment I remember the key was down to doing something as simple as knocking on their front door to introduce myself. Talk about ice-breaker. (No we never played the game where you have to say three things about yourself with one of them being false and the other looking to see which one it is … although I might try that the next time we move … or not.) I believe the neighbours, for it is a married couple of whom I talk, were very happy to receive such a pleasant approach from their new neighbours.

I’m not going to unfold a tale of burgeoning love and devotion among us as neighbours, but we did get to know each other somewhat. Although it took us a remarkably long time to settle down, our neighbours were alright. One particular episode that stands out in the recollection of good times was one Sunday afternoon/evening. Authrine and I had stayed in a bit later than scheduled for whatever reason and we were just off to the COG facility to engage in another church session. Authrine’s car however had suffered from the dreaded dead battery. We looked to our neighbours for help and they came out and did their best with their vehicles to see if they could get the vehicle started. As it turned out they couldn’t, but it turned out to be a wonderful opportunity for the whole family to engage with the couple as we waited for the repair/recovery dudes to pop along.

I remember it as well because another neighbour from an area around the corner from where we lived also popped along and tried to help. What didn’t help the guy was that he was obviously more than familiar with alcohol and had a certain manner about him that others would have judged him on as a slovenly, suspicious, sinister, drunkard. I say that, because that’s usually my safe preference when encountering such characters. Thankfully on this occasion the compassion of Christ emerged in me to actually see this neighbour as another traveller on life’s journey who had a distinctive tale to tell. So with his mangy mutt I spent most of the rest of the evening getting to know him and share a little bit about love whilst engaging in his fascinating story and I’d like to think the brother felt all the better for a chance to have a decent conversation, and as well as that I thought he’d given me the protection of the area as he knew the crack of what went on. Funnily enough, our next door neighbour weren’t as forthcoming in being hospitable, but at least there was nothing offensive in their approach to relations.

That was just one of a number of quality episodes in getting to know our neighbours and getting on well with them. As a result I know a bit more about what it is to be a good neighbour both from the one who is being it as well one who is the recipient of it. It is good. It is godly. It is a good bridge to building relationships with those on our doorstep in the hope of shining the light of Christ through our characters so that they can have a view of it and possibly begin to share in the journey to Christ. I am aware that it costs, after all as any good relationship will testify, it is not about superficial matters on which good relations rest, it is on the costly acts of transparency, vulnerability, compassion and developing intimacy. That sort of stuff can get tricky from time to time, but ultimately when it’s lead by the source of all love, you cannot go wrong.

And now to live that further when we move on because as one prophet said that’s when good neighbours become good … friends. (Check this for more on the same lines.)

For His Name's Sake

Shalom

dmcd

Until Your Love Broke Through

Today I could not locate the latest in the Maurice Barratt series on the Sermon on the Mount that I am reading, so I elected to continue reading the Michael Foot biography by Kenneth O. Morgan.

I have been reading it I believe for over a week now and it is proving to be a fascinating insight into the man. It is not exhilaratingly excellent, but it makes for compelling reading and getting to understand not just the man, but the context in which he played his role in history as well as Morgan’s own assessment of those factors and episodes.

As I made the enjoyable walk from the school to the COG/YMCA office where I work, I read further on the era in which Foot supported Aneurin Bevan in his brief spotlighted period as a significant figure in the Labour movement. It was virtually the rise and fall of Bevan as a political heavyweight and how his decisions were to be assessed in its effect on the Labour party as well as the direction of socialism as a whole.

It was good reading how in actuality socialism has different flavours from the working class flavour, to the middle class flavour to the quasi-Communist flavour and the near-right flavours that didn’t make too much of an issue about certain socio-economic demands and assumptions that the left made. I was fascinated by Foot’s role predominantly as a writer in supporting the values of whatever there was to Bevanism. (Morgan states that the problem was that there was hardly any doctrinal substance to this movement and they were usurped in actually shaping Labour’s vision of socialism by the side nearer the right of the party like Gaitskell and Crosland.)

All this is the set-up for what then happened as another epiphany moment in the life of Christopher Dryden. One aspect of the book was talking about Foot’s stance to trade unions in the early 1950’s particularly the leadership of the unions. Morgan depicts Foot as someone who didn’t really have much truck for them at the time and it took relationships later on to change his perspective. What got me thinking on a different stream was how Morgan describes the roles of these relationships with Frank Cousins and Jack Jones as opening the eyes of Foot.

It got me thinking about how certain episodes in life really do open your eyes to reality. It got me especially thinking of the current circumstance that we as a family find ourselves in where in essence for our own health and safety we need to make some very tough decisions.

It related well with the hints that had been dropped over the last year or two. In particular it reminded me of the Keith Green song Your Love Broke Through, especially the lyrics of the chorus

Like waking up from the longest dream,

How real it seemed,

Until your love broke through,

I was lost in a fantasy,

That blinded me,

Until your love broke through.

Those are profound lyrics of the power of revelation. It doesn’t just show you what is really there, it also says, to an extent, that what you thought was there, and believed passionately was reality was actually an illusion – a convincing, blinding illusion. The journey of faith on which I am travelling has been littered with incidents and episodes that bear this sentiment out. The key here as well is what makes the difference, what wakes me out of the reverie, what shakes me out of the fantasy – true, honest, pure love.

This is not a romantic, gooey version of the word full of soft settings and pleasant feelings. This is the love that goes out into the fields, mountains and valleys searching for the one lost sheep. This is the love that sends an only Son to die for the enemies. This is the love that spares no effort in doing what it takes to lift the blindness and let eyes see what the reality is. This is tough but comforting love. This is liberating but confounding love. This love is not easily digested in one sitting. This love is not easy to understand in one reading. This love is constantly unveiling and revealing, constantly exposing and highlighting, constantly leading and directing, constantly assuring and reassuring.

This love is seen in glimpses in the harsh realities of life where we get to know who our real friends are when the chips are down. This love is seen in the patient, caring, compassionate approach to us in failure and rejection. This love is heard in the words of this very real experience not just for Keith but for others, like me. This love is smelt, felt, heard, seen, tasted and experienced as much in times of great joy as in times of great sadness. This love, funnily enough, is exactly the love that is outlined in the Sermon on the Mount (almost as though God can talk about the Sermon on the Mount through the life of Michael Foot – how creative is that!).

This amazing agape love sustains me in the challenges of life and sees me maintaining hope even if the structures on which I relied on in time past are removed slowly or harshly. This love is centred primarily on knowing God better and then, in the light of that, recognising who I am and what I am meant to do.

I am grateful that His love broke through and continues to break through in my life, and it remains my life’s prayer as well as my life’s journey to share the experience and witness it in the lives of others open to this love breaking through.

For His Name's Sake

Shalom

dmcd

Take Your Time

(You may be asking the good question – oi Chris, where’s the teacher training class blog entry for today, didn’t you go to teacher training today? The answer to that is no, I did not go to teacher training today. This afternoon I was in Leicester for the YMCA Regional Thanksgiving Celebration which finished after 9pm. Did a workshop on the Christian Spiritual Development Toolkit that’s been published for the region. Interesting document, good workshop with some dear colleagues and new friends – all very good. Also spent some time with my good friend, Ray. So no teaching today, but the lesson learnt is that not teacher training need take place in a college!)

I don’t talk to my dad that often. Not because I don’t like talking to him, or I don’t love him. Ours is just a relationship that’s not been about constant phone calls and that kind of stuff. I know he loves hearing from me when he does and finding out how things are with me, but he’s not one to make a big fuss. It’s one of the endearing features about my dad that he doesn’t usually make a fuss of these kind of things.

Another really endearing quality of my dad is his ability to just focus on doing what he can get done in the time that he can do it. There’s no rushing him, there’s not pressuring him. If he can do it, he will do it. If he cannot do it he will say he is unable and not get bogged down by it. If he’s going to do it he’ll take his time and get the job done properly.

I have yet to learn from my dad in all these areas of life. I still find myself being somewhat manic in addressing some matters and in the mania not really giving my best to a task and ending up disappointed in the outcome. There is still a significant part of me that has learnt to take my time with things. Now for me that means not being that rapid in completing things. I can read fairly quickly, but even there I’m not reading especially speedily for the sake of it. I just tend to take on large tracts of words in a given sitting. Other than that I’m a bit of a stroller. Yeah I type a bit, but even then if you look at me the fingers are doing the work, but the rest of me is going at a pedestrian pace.

I find it more enjoyable to take my time to get something done. That way I can savour it a bit more, check it out in terms of its context both what has gone before and what might be ahead as a result. It’s relaxing and soothing to be under great pressure to produce, but know that as you reach the end the goods will emerge.

I say all this to celebrate the legacy of my father, who is still with us but has left his older son with a great sense of timing. I sometimes believe that in as much as God hears the cries of His people and sees their plight, there is something about Him in which He calls His children to step out of the immediacy and see things from his perspective. See how in actual fact the end is not the end, but the beginning, and how the beginning is not the beginning but the end of another chapter. Then in viewing things from His perspective and trusting Him with all the details it is no surprise that there is a great peace and serenity even in the midst of crisis.

The sentiments of the song below reaffirm that, in as much as the rush is on according to some, and there is an element in which we have to be mindful of the time, in the Kingdom economy based on eternity we really do have all the time in the world for love.

For His Name's Sake

Shalom

dmcd