Next Tuesday, on the 4th of October, in just over a week’s time, we’re looking forward to welcoming Simon Edwards to come and speak at our next Salt Live event.
The event is entitled, "I can't get no satisfaction". Simon will be speaking on what Christianity has to say about humanity's search for contentment.
In contrast to my last piece, I’d like to offer you a more positive vision for the home.
Early in married life, before we had children, Sie Yan and I became inspired by the amazing story of Francis and Edith Schaeffer. This American couple had been in church ministry in the US in the early part of the last century, but after a few years they uprooted their lives and moved to the Swiss Alps. There they rented a chalet and set up a ministry called L’Abri (“The Shelter”).
Many men are floundering and suffering for lack of a clear sense of purpose. I think we can see this in a number of different ways: the tragic rise of male suicide, increasing patterns of isolation, absent and abdicated fathers, and the angry solidarity of groups of men in online forums – angry with the world and especially with women.
Tyler Durden is no follower of Jesus. His arrogant swagger, recourse to violence, live-for-the-moment philosophy, and anarchic anti-authoritarianism set him in clear opposition to Christ on many fronts. But just as God speaks through a donkey (Numbers 22), even Tyler Durden’s ideas intersect with Christ’s once or twice.
One of the defining marks of the modern world, and especially in cities, is that we live increasingly fragmented lives. Whereas most humans in history have lived, worked and worshipped in the same area, we now tend to separate these aspects of our lives out: your home, your workplace and your church may all be in different areas.
Whenever we have the opportunity to introduce someone to the wonder of Marmite my wife always cautions them with a brief tale. Years earlier she had watched an American friend lather on thick lashings of the stuff onto a piece of toast. He was fully expecting to bite into a mouthful of chocolate spread, and was utterly horrified at the gooey saltiness he experienced, and spat it all out. Eating salt when you expect sugar is not at all pleasant.
The reason you chose to live in the city may not be the same reason God chose to put you here. You may have arrived here in search of professional success or escape from a provincial life. You may have been born here and never really considered moving anywhere else. Whatever your desires, the fact remains that God’s purposes are always at work in and behind all things, and part of our task is to seek his heart and know his will (see Roman 12.1-2).
When I first moved to London in 2002 I felt an overwhelming sense of joy at the opportunity to be here. I was 19 years old, and soon to start my studies in theology. I had grown up in a place that was radically different from London; a beautiful small city of around 30,000 people with nearby water meadows for wild swimming in the summer, woodland carpeted with bluebells in the spring, streets safe enough to play outside without supervision, and a church that felt like a giant extended family. Yet despite all this, I felt a powerful draw to London, and I hardly looked back.
I was so glad to hear that Sie Yan, Naomi and Jennie had chosen the subject of friendship for the women’s day tomorrow. I’m slightly jealous as it sounds like they have a great day planned. I’ve been thinking recently about the essentialness of deep and committed friendships in my own life and wanted to write to you all to provoke us to think about being more intentional in this regard.
Religion causes so many of humanity's greatest problems. Division. Intolerance. Conflict. We no longer think that faith is a harmless choice; it is now seen as a dangerous delusion. And yet, religious people report higher levels of personal satisfaction and meaning. How can both be true? Is Christianity part of the problem or is it the solution?
When Peter is preaching in the book of Acts he uses this striking phrase, times of refreshing, to capture the promise of the gospel.
Your soul is not capable of surviving outside of God’s sustaining grace. It is vulnerable and will shrivel and dry out. You will have experienced this in different seasons of life.
Dealing with pride and ambition can be unbelievably difficult. We live in a sin-soaked world in which glory hunting is the norm, and humility is somewhat passé. We barely blink when we hear people boast about their talents, or preen and pose on social media displaying some aspect of their enviable life. This atmosphere we breath can make ambition seem totally normal and acceptable. Who would even question whether it’s okay or not to be driven by ambition?
Last Sunday, I preached three times on conflict and then got home and had an argument with Jen (my wife). As you no doubt will be, I was immediately struck by the irony of the situation! It was over pretty quickly (neither of us enjoys conflict very much to want it to go on very long), but like many conflicts, it stemmed from the problem of ego (mine in this case).
We had a sweet time at Upper Room this week. I particularly enjoyed praying together for our city. One person shared a beautiful poem that resonated with me. It began, ‘The Lord reigns over London. Mercy, justice and righteousness flow from his throne’. It reminded me of the prophetic picture of the river of life that Ezekiel describes in Ezekiel 47. He describes a river that flows from the altar of the temple, where ‘everything will live where the river goes’ (47.9). It is literally the river of life! It’s a prefiguring of the Holy Spirit, the living water that will come from Christ and, of course, bring true life to all who receive Him!
If we focus excessively on what God can do through us, we might miss another important emphasis, of what God wants to do in us. For those of us more drawn towards activism in the name of Christ, we must remember God’s overarching purpose to form Christlikeness in us, quite apart from any impact that we might hope to have on the world. When churches or Christians focus excessively on impact and mission, they risk ignoring the vital work that God wants to do in each of us, on our character and personal holiness.
