Geoff Pritchard 5.0 pm July 12, 2009 5 pm
Ephesians 1, 4
One
day I'd like to buy a mind-reading machine that really works. If you agreed to
be tested, just once, I wonder what
you would be thinking about, just before the choir processed in, and just before
we all sang the first hymn?
It is
human nature to spend spare minutes day-dreaming about trivia: things like the
price of petrol, our latest attack of hay fever, what's on the telly, or the
score in the Test match. If we were
instead to think too much about what really mattered, such as the future
of the planet, the decline and fall of Western civilisation, or our own
inevitable deterioration, we might get rather depressed.
So
here's a list of distracting thoughts to choose from. You can try them out next
week. Notice, they are all perfectly legitimate, and there are some good points
about most of them, though perhaps we really should finish with them before
sitting down.
“Am I
on a rota today? Should I be making the coffee? Why isn't so-and-so here
to-night? Is he ill? He looked ill last week. I wish somebody else was preaching. Is
that another crack in the ceiling? I forgot to put the cat out. Who is that
woman just coming in, never seen her before? She looks worried. I hope it won't
be raining when we go out”.
Whereas we come here to reset our compasses and to lay aside temporal
worries, to remind ourselves of what really matters most. We come here to think
about God and try to express our relationship with him. You will already know
from what I have said before, that I don't believe you have to come to a special
sacred building to do that. But it does help if we all agree to meet together at
the same time in the same place.
Nor is
having thoughts about other members of the congregation, about whether they are
ill, whether they are new, whether
they need coffee afterwards, is inappropriate in a church. On the contrary, if
we did not have such thoughts, if we wore a carthorse's blinkers and noticed
nobody, there would be something seriously wrong.
Even
the apostle Paul probably had distractions at the moment he started leading a
meeting in someone's house, or when he began the tricky job of writing an
epistle, which he did before anybody had invented the typewriter, the fountain pen, the
biro, Microsoft Word, Open Office, or
even paper.
But he
doesn't bother us over-much with what those thoughts were.
He
must have been concerned with where his next meal was coming from, and whether
the house he was lodging at for a few days would be raided by those who wanted
to silence him.
I was
reminded of the pressures on him when I was in Cyprus earlier this year. I took
my 15-year old grand-daughter to attend Easter Day service (it was held at 6
o'clock in the evening, because Catholics of various sorts and different
languages had grabbed all the morning slots in the same building). It was at the
main church in Paphos.
Our
PCC secretary, Christine Haig, used to belong to that church, and two of our All
Saints morning congregation, John and Dorothy, are actually still fully paid up
members of Paphos church, as well
as this one. They attend each one for six months of every year, living in Cyprus
when it's cool, and Broad Heath in the summer.
Outside the Greek Orthodox building there are a large number of tall
white stone pillars, rather as if an earthquake had demolished everything else
and left a few pillars untouched.
One of
the pillars is only about half the size of the others, and it carries an
inscription near the ground on a small plate, saying that the apostle Paul was
tied to it, and flogged with 39 lashes. Maybe that sort of thing came into his
mind, as one of his day to day distractions.
The
inscription reminds you forcefully that the things we read about in his letters
and in the book of Acts were real events.
Yet
when he wrote his letters, he wrote mostly about things of eternal significance,
the things that should be the framework of all our lives. Things we don't expect
to find mentioned much in the hustle and bustle of everyday life.
How
many All Saints people have you heard saying to each other, as Paul says in
to-day's text, “God chose us, you
know, long before we were born, before even William the Conqueror and the
dinosaurs and the big bang”? Not many.
Yet that is what Paul says (in slightly more complicated language) in our
Ephesians passage today, in chapter 1. Starting at verse 4:
“For he
chose us, in him, before the creation of the world, to be holy and blameless in
his sight”.
“In love he
predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance
with his pleasure and will.”
Our
understandable pre-occupation with “now”
tends to stop us thinking much about the bigger picture. The closer
something is to us, the more it dominates our thinking.
My
winter flu always seems more pressing, somehow, than your arthritis or even your
second cousin's cancer.
One of
our morning congregation has been working abroad as a volunteer doctor in
various war zones for a a few months every year. The conditions in which he has
worked would amaze us--- often no mains electricity, sometimes hardly any water,
occasionally one or more fellow doctors have been shot dead, as happened
recently in Sri Lanka.
Yet he
said that when he came home to Droitwich, having managed OK with the bare
minimum of facilities for several months, both in the operating theatre and in
his personal life, he soon loses his sense of proportion.
Finding on getting home that his dishwasher had packed up while he
was away depressed him far more than remembering that the people he'd left
behind in Somalia had no electricity or running water and too many insects
deeply embedded in their clothes.
It's
human nature. Our immediate thoughts blot out the important issues. No wonder very few of us save enough for
a decent pension! Buying CDs and fixing up the annual holiday always get in
first.
Where
is all this going? Think about the things that do matter, the big picture Paul
paints for us.
It
says in our text for tonight that we are special. Why? Because
God
chose
us.
It's
harder nowadays to believe we're special, because we live in a celebrity
culture. We are encouraged to think
that special people are rich, famous or beautiful. Ordinary people like us are
not supposed to be of much interest; our life stories do not sell many
magazines, or promote many CDs. Sorry if I imply you are not beautiful; I'm sure
somebody thinks you are.
I met
someone the other day who had just retired from the music industry. He said so many people wanted to become
famous quickly today, by getting into the music business as performers, that his
company sometimes had a quarter of a million demonstration songs to listen to,
all from people who wanted to become special—and famous--- by singing solos or
playing in a band. It had become a huge problem to sift through them. The
selectors didn't want to miss the next Madonna or Jacko. But all the selectors,
the marketing men, could find time to listen to, was the first bar –yes, the
first bar—of each bit of music.
If it
was very good, they might be patient enough to listen to the second bar. If the music didn't grab anybody after
that, it went straight in the dustbin. A quarter of a million is too
many.
Most
of us here to-night have never even been on Britain's Got Talent Show, let alone
made the charts, but the Bible nevertheless maintains that we are special,
because we have been chosen by God, and this makes us
celebrities.
Sir
Mark Tully, the BBC's India correspondent, says in one of his early morning
broadcasts that even our ordinary lives can be special. We are constantly being
encouraged by commercial pressures and trendy people to use our spare time to do
something exciting.
To
travel a very long way for our holidays, to have hot air balloon rides or go
bungee jumping, and to impress our friends with stories of how far we have
travelled, what exotic food we have tasted, how we were within an ace of being
sentenced to life imprisonment in some Asian dungeon.
Whereas he believes that for those with eyes to see, ordinary life
around us is exotic as it is, because God has provided so many things to
fascinate us.
Our
daily routine already has the potential to be special and fascinating, without
spending lots of money or touring the world. Happiness is best found in being
interested in the many remarkable things --and people--- that God has surrounded
us with. And it needs a bit of practice, like anything worth doing. The type of
person called an “anorak” has discovered something of
this.
In
contrast, the late Michael Jackson's life seems to show that fame doesn't always
bring contentment. He made a great many attempts to look like
somebody else.
Some
of our forefathers, living as they did in a more or less Christian culture, had
reason to see themselves as special. They spent every day knowing they were
under the benevolent watch of their
creator, the one who, as Paul said here, made us “to be holy and blameless in
his sight”.
Now I
don't know how that strikes you, but being watched, twenty-four—seven, all the time, by God
or anyone else might seem rather worrying. It sounds as though everything we do
is under surveillance by a giant closed-circuit TV camera that never breaks
down, with a hawkish and critical God getting up from his desk and looking at it
every so often, frowning and putting our names in a big black book.
Because we British naturally associate closed circuit TV surveillance
with a veiled threat of punishment by authority whenever we step out of line.
Nobody in the world has as many closed-circuit TV cameras as this country does,
and we are getting further and further ahead in the surveillance stakes. We may
not be much good at cricket or tennis,
our economic future may be gloomy and our Parliament, like our banking
system, in disarray, but there's one thing you must admit we do rather well.
Snoop.
Sue
Townsend has written a satire, set in the near future, called Queen Camilla, in
which England becomes a republic and has six million people under surveillance
in special fortified housing estates, watched continually even in their own
homes. They are the AZBO types, the criminals, the drug addicts, and of course
fat people. Plus the royal family. Nobody can say anything, even in their living
rooms, without the local police knowing. We don't like being
watched.
So
it's important to reflect that surveillance doesn't have to be threatening.
Many
conscientious parents have electronic tracking devices to keep an eye on their
children, and not for any sinister purpose. It is done simply out of love and
concern.
Car
insurance companies ---and at least one Midland local authority------are
persuading parents to monitor
electronically how their 18 and 19 year old children drive. They then know how
many times their offspring have gone over 60 when driving between speed cameras or in
country lanes.
Where
people have taken this idea up, there has been a significant drop in teenage car
accidents and deaths, and fewer lives have been ruined by peer pressure to take
risks.
French
parents put tracker devices in their small school children's satchels before
they go to school, in case of abduction.
So,
please, when you think of God's CCTV system, of being watched by a celestial
policeman, think of loving parents. The fact that God monitors us day by day is
not sinister. He bothers to watch
us because we matter to Him. We are not insignificant. We are
special.
The
comparison with parents is right and proper, because as Paul said in our text
for tonight, “In love God
predestined us to be adopted as his sons”.
My
wife and I once tried to adopt, because it was not thought safe for her to have
a second pregnancy, but as it happened we were turned down as unsuitable.
If we
had been accepted, we would have put the adopted child on the same level as our
own daughter, and would have treated them both equally. The Bible implies that
our status before God is as special
as being adopted into his family.
We can
probably imagine what it would be like if as children we had been adopted by the
lord of the manor. That's about as far as my imagination can stretch. Being adopted by the royal family is
probably not attractive now they get too much media
attention.
But
when the Bible talks of our being adopted as a son of God, we can only flounder.
One thing is sure, there can be no more justified claim to celebrity than being
an adopted son of God. No greater claim to be special.
I
did not intend this talk to cover difficult things like predestination, but
unfortunately Paul mentions it in tonight's passage. I promise won't spend long
on it, I don't think we would get very far. Nevertheless we can't avoid the
topic altogether, because our specialness can be traced back directly to the
fact that God has chosen us. Our
specialness does not come from any imagined superior morality.
Nor
from any superior spiritual insight, which might have enabled us to seize an
opportunity of salvation that had been missed by our slow-witted neighbours.
If it
had been otherwise, we could have congratulated ourselves; we could boast, like
someone who has picked a winning share investment in a bull market. But we
can't.
Being
chosen will probably seem to our eyes to be very unjust; after all, shouldn't
everybody be chosen, not just some? Or does Paul mean that everybody
really is chosen, but some of them
decline to go along with it? And
what about babies who die as babies? Could they be chosen? If they were chosen
before the beginning of the world, if they had an identity but it simply wasn't
disclosed by a life on earth, why
not? Yes, it does lead to some hard questions. A guy on the radio this morning
complained that preachers only talk about the easy parts of the Bible. To-day's
different.
After
all, if we worship such a clever God, one who can make a whole universe and
populate it with enough strange creatures to keep David Attenborough happy for
eight decades, then we are surely
dealing with a super-genius. We should not expect to understand completely
everything he or she says and does. It might even be disappointing if we
did.
A
thoroughly understandable world
that makes immediate sense to us, with no loose ends, no mysteries, no
questions left to ask, might be a bit of a let-down, like finding we could do
the Times crossword in five minutes.
It
might be rather like meeting a famous Nobel prize winner while on holiday; we
would expect scintillating conversation, brilliant humour, pearls of wisdom, and
more deep meaning than we could take in at one sitting. But what if we find that
all he wanted to do was play bingo all day? It would be a let-down.
So
perhaps it's only natural that we find we have more of God and his world than we
can handle right now.
After
all, He's special too!