Happy Birthday CHS!

I describe London Baptist preacher C H Spurgeon as my ministry hero:

 

Perhaps, with due deference on his birthday, we should note how unheroically he would wish to be regarded.  Even if he is sometimes followed as an evangelical demi-god he certainly did not experience himself that way,

“It is of the utmost importance to us to be kept humble. Consciousness of self-importance is a hateful delusion, but one into which we fall as naturally as weeds grow on a dunghill. We cannot be used of the Lord but that we also dream of personal greatness, we think ourselves almost indispensible to the church, pillars of the cause, and foundations of the temple of God. We are nothings and nobodies, but that we do not think so is very evident, for as soon as we are put on the shelf we begin anxiously to enquire, ‘How will the work go on without me?’ As well might the fly on the coach wheel enquire, ‘How will the mails be carried without me?’ Far better men have been laid in the grave without having brought the Lord’s work to a standstill, and shall we fume and fret because for a little season we must lie upon the bed of languishing? God sometimes weakens our strength in a way at the precise juncture when our presence seems most needed to teach us that we are not necessary to God’s work, and that when we are most useful, He can easily do without us. If this be the practical lesson, the rough schooling may be easily endured for assuredly it is beyond all things desirable that self should be kept low and the Lord alone be magnified.”

Charles H. Spurgeon, “Laid Aside, Why?,” The Sword and Trowel, May, 1876, London

Good News in a Pandemic: 5. NHS (etc.)

Someone writing about the National Health Service was wistfully observing that it seems to have become a national religion.

There is no doubt that the NHS is held in high regard by most Britons - even ones who might tolerate the opposite extreme in the USA were they living there.  The pandemic centres everyone on doctors, nurses and paramedics and in the UK they are synonymous with the NHS.

Thus every Thursday we clap our praise to our religion in the form of community thanks for NHS staff (more recently widened to care workers in general). 

Normally applause is reserved for sportspeople, for actors or for speeches.  But when we are sick, or when we fear we might be sick, we suddenly see the value of the doctors and nurses.

"It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick", said Jesus (Luke 5:31).  "I have not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance."

It is the person who needs a Saviour - who knows they need a Saviour - who praises Jesus the Saviour.

Psalm 91: A Psalm for a Pandemic in Lent

The text of a sermon preached at Muswell Hill Baptist Church on March 15, 2020.  This was the church's last meeting before the growing pandemic led the Government to instruct all religious groups to stop gathering in order to hold back the spread of the COVID-19 virus.

We are in unusual times – for us.  

But these are far from unusual times for the human race.  More locally, these are far from unusual times in London.

Every so often you may be checking out the increasingly grim coronavirus statistics.  But in the Diary of Samuel Pepys we find him reading the 17^th century Bills of Mortality:  

Thus this month ends, with great sadness upon the public through the greatness of the plague, everywhere through the Kingdom almost. Every day sadder and sadder news of its increase. In the City died this week 7496; and all of them, 6102 of the plague. But it is feared that the true number of the dead this week is near 10000 - partly from the poor that cannot be taken notice of through the greatness of the number, and partly from the Quakers and others that will not have any bell ring for them. As to myself, I am very well; only, in fear of the plague . .

So we are not at all the first London congregation to turn to Psalm 91 as a pestilence happens around us.

1. This Psalm is for You - personally

Psalm 90 begins this 4th book of Psalms. 

1 Lord, you have been our dwelling-place

throughout all generations.

. . .4 A thousand years in your sight

are like a day that has just gone by,

or like a watch in the night.

5 Yet you sweep people away in the sleep of death –

they are like the new grass of the morning:

It makes uncomfortable human reading  (until you trust in God.)  The individual human being seems very small, part of a tide.  This is what a global epidemic feels like - numbers and statistics and curves and percentages.  And it always was:

The Bills of Mortality began to be published regularly in 1603, in which year 33,347 deaths were recorded from plague. 1625 saw 41,313 dead.  The 1625 outbreak was recorded at the time as the 'Great Plague', until deaths from the plague of 1665 surpassed it.  The official returns for 1665 record 68,596 cases of plague, but a reasonable estimate suggests this figure is 30,000 short of the true total.

Into all these fearful statistics comes Psalm 91.

1 He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High

will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.

2 I will say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress,

my God, in whom I trust.’

In every ‘you’ in this Psalm it is addressed to the singular.  

HE who dwells – that’s just him, you, me.

The numbers are here of course: 

7 A thousand may fall at your side,

ten thousand at your right hand,

but it will not come near you.

But the number that matters is just you. 

This is a pointed and opportune time to ask this question – how is your personal relationship with God?

ISAIAH 55:6 Seek the LORD while he may be found; call on him while he is near.  7 Let the wicked forsake his way and the evil man his thoughts. Let him turn to the LORD, and he will have mercy on him, and to our God, for he will freely pardon.

If  you must self-isolate in this epidemic – take this Psalm with you – and remember it is for you, not for church.  Provided you too can say:

2 I will say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress,

my God, in whom I trust.’

2. This Psalm is for Salvation but not for Show

a. For Salvation

3 Surely he will save you

from the fowler’s snare

and from the deadly pestilence.

4 He will cover you with his feathers,

and under his wings you will find refuge;

his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.

14 ‘Because he loves me,’ says the Lord, ‘I will rescue him;

I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.

15 He will call on me, and I will answer him;

I will be with him in trouble,

I will deliver him and honour him.

16 With long life I will satisfy him

and show him my salvation.’

There are many troubles in this Psalm:

5 You will not fear the terror of night,

nor the arrow that flies by day,

6 nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,

nor the plague that destroys at midday.

But His feathers are enough.  They are as a shield, as a rampart.  Feathers so gentle, so powerful.

Lord Craven lived in London when the plague raged. On the plague growing epidemic, his Lordship, to avoid the danger, resolved to go to his seat in the country. His coach and six were accordingly at the door, his baggage put up, and all things in readiness for the journey. As he was walking through his hall he overheard his servant saying to another servant. "I suppose, by my Lord's quitting London to avoid the plague, that his God lives in the country, and not in town." The man said this really believing a plurality of gods.

Lord Craven paused. "My God lives everywhere, and can preserve me in town as well as in the country. I will stay where I am.”

He continued in London, helped his sick neighbours, and never caught the infection.

It is a Psalm to place our trust in because God is personally with us where we are.

b. Not for Show

A Psalm for a Pandemic  - in Lent.  What has it to do with Lent? 

Lent is framed around the forty days when Jesus, in the wilderness, confronted and overcame Satan, the tempter.

LUKE 4:9 The devil led him to Jerusalem and had him stand on the highest point of the temple. ‘If you are the Son of God,’ he said, ‘throw yourself down from here. 10 For it is written [Psalm 91]:

‘“He will command his angels concerning you

    to guard you carefully;

11 they will lift you up in their hands,

    so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.”’

12 Jesus answered, ‘It is said: “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.”’

Satan tempts Jesus with Psalm 91.  It is Jesus’ chance to display his invincibility.  Jesus, instead, shows his obedience to his calling.

Even the most wonderful promises are part of our discipleship, our discipline, our self-denial.  Like the gifts of the Holy Spirit, the promises of God are for Service and for Salvation, not for Show.

Charles Haddon Spurgeon, the great Baptist Preacher in Victorian London told this account of service and salvation in pestilential times:

In the year 1854, when I had scarcely been in London twelve months, the neighbourhood in which I laboured was visited by Asiatic cholera, and my congregation suffered from its inroads. Family after family summoned me to the bedside of the smitten, and almost every day I was called to visit the grave... I became weary in body and sick at heart. My friends seemed falling one by one, and I felt or fancied that I was sickening like those around me… As God would have it, I was returning mournfully home from a funeral, when my curiosity led me to read a paper in a shoemaker's window in the Dover Road. It bore in a good bold handwriting these words: "Because thou hast made the Lord, which is my refuge, even the most High, thy habitation; there shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling." The effect upon my heart was immediate. Faith appropriated the passage as her own. I felt secure, refreshed, girt with immortality ... The providence which moved the tradesman to place those verses in his window I gratefully acknowledge, and in the remembrance of its marvellous power I adore the Lord my God.

Nobody can have two homes — two places of ultimate resort. And if the Lord be truly my dwelling place then even in these times, my home is enough and is secure - a home of divine feathers in a hard world.

40 Days: Giants

We can imagine Day 1:  out from the camp of the enemy the Giant emerges.  Some clatter of shields behind him perhaps.  A booming voice.  A challenge.

He stood and shouted to the ranks of Israel, “Why have you come out to draw up for battle? Am I not a Philistine, and are you not servants of Saul? Choose a man for yourselves, and let him come down to me.  If he is able to fight with me and kill me, then we will be your servants. But if I prevail against him and kill him, then you shall be our servants and serve us.”  And the Philistine said, “I defy the ranks of Israel this day. Give me a man, that we may fight together.”

Lent is familiarly a time of self-discipline.  The world rushes on, but time aside is taken by devout people to harness their souls.  It has become harder as the modern world pulls us away into 24/7 activity,

Goliath harnessed Israel to a stop for 40 days.  This was not 40 days of self-discipline, but 40 days of terror.  Day after day the challenge went unanswered.  It took faith in God - and a skilled good shot - to bring the terror to an end.

2020 will be remembered for a dramatically extended international Lent. 

What are you giving up for Lent?  As the coronavirus giant stares out the nations of the world  - travel, workplace, clubs, theatres, church services, school, public transport, toilet rolls, shopping in general, football, cricket, conferences, rugby, gym, swimming, meeting friends.  Fear achieves what self discipline rarely can. 

A Christian's Story

What would you write if you knew you were about to die?  David Bowie recorded a song: a Christian friend of one of my friends wrote this on her IPad:

If this is being read in public domain that means I have passed from this life and entered into eternity- into the presence of the Almighty God- the maker of Heaven and of earth. WOW... Hold on- a human, a mortal can stand and not only stand but live in the presence of this Almighty Lord?! Yes. My life on earth has been leading up to this point- the point where I see His Glory! Where I meet my precious Saviour who died for me before I had been born and while I was still in my sin. The Lord, when he formed me in my mother's womb, knit together my body, chose my eye colour, my personality, gave me talents and knew ALL about me, even what would make me laugh (all unknown to my earthly parents)... He also knew my whole life, he knew each day I would be breathing oxygen in my lungs, he knew every decision I would make, including whether I would choose to follow Him or not.

[...] So what then comes after? Nothing? Do you really believe that because my organs have ceased to work- that the life in me, just died too?! We are more than just flesh, than an animal... We are different and higher than a mere animal because we were granted a soul. A Soul that will live on forever. The question is- where? I believe as this is read I am in the presence of God, and it is here I will spend eternity. No pain, no sickness, no hurt, no disappointment, fully satisfied with my creator, in full joy and fullness of life. So why can I say this with confidence before I have even departed?? [...]

Here is my story... I grew up hearing of Jesus, God and going to church, I knew it all, and I do believe I made a profession of faith as a child; however I don't think I knew enough about what I had actually decided. I am thankful for my parents who instilled in me godly morals, which kept me on many occasions from doing really silly things... That being said, when I turned 18- I wanted to break free from what I thought was an oppressive upbringing.. So I rebelled...[...]

I was literally running in the opposite way from God..but as I woke up on the Friday morning after little sleep, too much alcohol and partying... Before I felt hungover or tired I felt an overwhelming sense of emptiness. In his great mercy God came to me that morning and not audibly, but in my soul I heard him loving whisper 'what are you doing and where are you going?' . . .[...]

For those of you who know Jesus... I will see you on the other side. Please don't mourn for me... I am free from cancer, free from seizures and more fulfilled and happy than any moment I ever had on earth. As I write this I can't even imagine how amazing this will be, because I've had many, many wonderful times and experiences in my life! I am sure there will be days when you miss me...but please please, please don't let those moments take away from each precious moment that you have, don't let my passing cause you to stumble in your faith. Let it strengthen your faith that God IS real and HE has a purpose for you on this earth!! Enjoy each moment you have and try to keep an eternal perspective, how can you bring God more Glory?

For those of you who are suffering, I feel one of the purposes of my illness was to teach me about suffering. Firstly, no matter how bad, it will never compare to the suffering Jesus faced on the cross, being separated from that father connection, not to mention the physical suffering...because Jesus experienced that suffering He can identify with you as you struggle, so cling to Him. And Trust him no matter what. He is in control despite our lack of understanding.... Be patient, one day when on this side of eternity you will understand. . [...]

Days to Remember: 7. The Sick Pastor

A very arresting topic in Christian ministry is that of sickness and healing.  Some people don't believe it at all, some people are more devoted to it than anything in the whole panoply of spiritual things.  One way or another though, nobody seems to want a sick Pastor.  Sympathy is rife, but only briefly.  After all, a sick Pastor is like failure totem on the weekly notice sheet . . . 
 

From the point of being the pastor this is somewhat unfortunate because few of us choose to be sick or especially enjoy it and having a load of other people willing you better by next Sunday makes you feel worse.  Churches like to welcome the weak and sick - but not to the pulpit.

 

 My track record is not too bad but took a very unfortunate dip on my arrival in Wycombe.  I suppose I was vaguely aware of the existence of something called a gall bladder in the body.  Within a few weeks of touching down as the dynamic new Pastor of Union Baptist Church I became acutely aware of the gall bladder.  Several times.

Before the machinations of the National Health Service sent people in Wycombe to far-flung hospitals for emergencies as now is, I was admitted to Wycombe Hospital.  And a few weeks later again.  Once in a kind friend's car, once in a blue-light ambulance.  Each time I was in for a few nights.  Among the first church people I got to know were the nurses and volunteers who worked in the hospital . . .

This yielded a Day to Remember.  I sat by the bedside of an older, unwell lady in one of the hospital three months into the pastorate. 

"Well," I said, "this is the third time I've visited the hospital since my induction.  But it's the first time I've come through the main entrance and not Accident and Emergency.  It's nice to be a visitor instead of a patient . . ."

The church put up with all this fairly stoically.  I imagine that after a few years without a pastor, one in the local hospital is a small step forward.  One church member even brought their gallstone in a jar to church to show me, what had been removed from their body some years before . . .  In fact I think that I'll show you a picture so you can share the experience.  Nice, eh?

 

Days to Remember 4: 9/11

This is a date that not many of us will forget.

On September 11th 2001 I was also in  a tower, smaller by far than the World Trade Center, yet one of the tallest in our town.  Here it is:

I was visiting Ellen.  She was an older lady and beset with very serious illness (from which within a month she died to this world).  It was soon after 2:00pm British Summer Time and I had picked up a story of a potential bomb or plane crash in New York.  By the time I was at the hospital there was that general muttering about something big happening and my last listen to a radio emphasised how big things were becoming.

Sitting at Ellen's bedside it was possible to sense that a nurse here and there was speaking to another along the lines of, "Have you heard the News?" or "Something's happening in America, isn't it?".

What I will never forget is how, on that least normal of all 21st century afternoons, my pastoral visit to Ellen was absolutely unaffected.  She, it was clear, was coming to the close of her life.  We spoke together; we prayed to God who was not phased by unfolding drama elsewhere (he who upholds all things). I was about to travel through turbulent days: My sister in Christ was coming to that Place of Rest where such things are overwhelmed by the love of God and seeing her Saviour face to face.

It has always given me a perspective on 9/11.  As a Christian Pastor I have a higher calling than world events, even those triggered (as many of them have always been) by socio-religious frameworks.  Soul work is the real work.

For, as Jesus might have said, what does it profit a man if he gains [a lot of media attention and influence in Manhattan Planning Department] and loses his own soul? 

Formidable

Our oldest Church member died recently.  The word most of us could agree well-described her was the word formidable.

You don't get to live to 102 years old without having some determination, and Evelyn had plenty of that.  And then some.  Even at a century old she was still, well, formidable.

Which brings me to Melville Beveridge Cox.

On the face of it he was decidedly not formidable.  He set out as a preacher in New England in 1822 before contracting tuberculosis.  You don't usually live to 100 after having TB.  He gave up preaching .

He moved and began working in a bookstore.  He edited a weekly Christian magazine.  He married.  That might be calculated to turn a sickly man into something a little stronger.  He and Ellen had a baby daughter, but not long after her birth both Ellen and the baby died of cholera.

The weakly widower volunteered for missionary work in South America.  This was refused but instead he was assigned to Liberia, the African state being formed from freed slaves.  There were doubts that this not-at-all formidable man would last long in Africa.

He began as quickly as he could with a church and two mission stations further up the river.  By now he had malaria, and 15 weeks into Africa he was dead.

This story of hopeless weakness is formidable too, however.  His story had so inspired other, stronger people that even as he died five further missionaries were en route to take up and expand his work.

In truth, all human formidability is to be found in God alone.

Matt Chandler

Stuff happens.

At least we can all say that.  Matt Chandler is one of the great Biblical preachers of the next generation (next after mine that is of course - don't ask whether there are any in mine . . .!).  On Thanksgiving Day (late November) he suddenly collapsed.  Which introduces you to Matt's health blog.

What marks this out is that Matt faithfully reflects the goodness of God in a context where many people, and - let's be honest - too many Christians only ask questions instead of looking at blessings.  This is a story that is sad but, thanks be to God, certain to have a happy ending.