Tag Archives: Process

Paradox of Wisdom

“I’d choose wisdom!” 

We were young teenagers and, as teens frequently do, we were asking each other what we would ask for if we could have three wishes granted.  (My memory is that we had recently seen the Disney version of Aladin – and we were captivated by Robin Williams’ portrayal of the Genie.)  My friends all said they’d wish for billions of dollars, or the like.  When I stated my wish would be for wisdom they looked at me like I had ten heads.

I had recently become a Christian and I had taken seriously my spiritual mentor’s encouragement to read a Psalm, a Proverb and a New Testament passage every day.  In doing so, I had become fascinated with the benefits of having, and pursuing, wisdom.  My immediate thought when my friend asked this question about the wishes was, if I get wisdom first, I’d then know the best way to use the second two wishes.

This is often the way of life.  If we have wisdom, we are better positioned to make good choices.  Unfortunately, even ‘wise’ people can make poor decisions.  But, generally, wisdom brings understanding, an ability to see through the conundrum at the surface in order to address the matters at the heart of a situation.

Wisdom is different from knowledge.  I smile when I hear the ‘modern proverb’ that says,

“By knowledge we understand that a tomato is a fruit,

By wisdom we know not to slice a tomato into our breakfast cereal.”

Wisdom rarely fits into a particular mould.  Even though one may have wisdom, determining a course of action requires that the wise person understands the context.  Wisdom may require action in a given situation at one time, but at another time, in what appears to be the very same situation, wisdom may require a different action.  This often-forgotten principle is clearly stated in Proverbs 26:4-5.

“Do not answer a fool according to his folly, or you will be like him yourself.

Answer a fool according to his folly, or he will be wise in his own eyes.”

I have spoken to many who appear troubled by this seeming contradiction within Scripture.  How can the Word of God so blatantly disagree with itself?  But, these two verses are not a contradiction. Rather, they are an instruction to look beyond the issues at the surface, to get within the context of the one who is speaking in order to understand the ‘folly’ that is being espoused.  The challenge for the wise person, is to attempt to identify, without judgement or accusation, the motives and intentions of the one speaking before deciding if wisdom compels one to enter the discussion.  Clearly, it is possible that a decision to enter the conversation could reveal substance as folly-filled as the first speaker.  In another context, with different understanding, assessment and clarity, it may be essential to enter the conversation.

In today’s world we will have multiple opportunities to learn how to apply this principle.  We are faced with a myriad of opinions, perspectives and points of view that are not always helpful or beneficial.  Some are complete folly.  Some are spoken by people who genuinely desire and intend to do good but have become confused.   Regardless of who speaks or what is said, before we dive into the conversation, it will be beneficial for us to consider the principles within Proverbs 26:4-5. 

In doing so, we will do well to remember that this principle is built on the assumption that in all circumstances we’re seeking to display the heart of God and learning to speak with grace, truth, gentleness and respect (1 Pt 3:15) and avoiding the temptation to speak curses over someone made in God’s image (Jms 3:9).  For not only is it kindness that leads people to change (Rom 2:4), but it is through the Church that God will display his multi-faceted wisdom (Eph 3:10).

Day 12, Day 6, Day 1

I’m at my keyboard 6 days after the people of Israel suffered a horrendous attack in which at least 1,200 civilians were brutally murdered.  The Israeli response has been swift and harsh with estimates of 1,300 inhabitants of Gaza killed.  By the time this article is posted those numbers will most certainly increase.

I’m sitting in a coffee shop.  At a nearby table sits a group of men deep in conversation.  Their conversation sounds intense.  Some are animated.  One is loud.  Another gesticulates with dramatic hand gestures while a younger man sits quietly and appears to have tears in his eyes.  I am drawn to them but attempt to mask my interest.  I recognise they are speaking Arabic, so I cannot understand what they are saying.  Given the context of the last 6 days, my imagination wanders…

Twelve days ago, in a country within the Middle East, I was sitting in a room with a group of different Arabic speaking men.  That room was full of people who were leading churches in parts of the world where their activity and message put their physical safety at risk.  Now, 12 days later, I recall the feelings of humility, respect and honour I felt simply to be able to meet these courageous men of passionate conviction.

Over the past six days I’ve found myself conflicted and confused at much of the public reaction to the heightened violence within the Middle East.  I’m surprised at the black and white positions put forward by many.  Perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised – our society is increasingly polarised.  But I cannot help but wonder at the lack of nuance in much of the public discussion, especially in relation to a region with such historical complexity. 

I am a Christian.  I think I am mature enough to understand that my ethnicity, nationality and economic position each play a role in my biases and perceptions.  But, hopefully, my identity as a child of God has a stronger influence in my worldview than any of these.  My aim as a believer is to continually pursue my ongoing transformation through renewing my mind, loving God and loving my neighbour. 

I am a humanitarian.  My expectation is that all people, all ethnicities, all nationalities can live side-by-side in peace and with mutual respect.  I do not want to see anyone suffer injustice, oppression or violence – full stop.  I am even more confused when I hear people invoke the name of God to justify actions which are far removed from the character, nature and personality of God he chose to reveal through the life of Jesus.

Six days. 2,500 people dead.  Where is this going?  When will it end?  Where are those who dare to act on Jesus’ words, “Blessed are the peace-makers…” (Mt 5:9), “…love your enemy…” (Mt 5:44), and “love your neighbour as yourself” (Mk 12:31).

Twelve days ago I heard personal stories from people who have committed themselves to a life of service for ‘the other’.  These people are choosing to break down the dividing walls within their culture and society in order to build a better future for the coming generations. In the coffee shop my fellow patrons are leaving their tables.  I stop trying to pretend.  I intentionally attempt to make eye-contact with them.  Most don’t see me.  But, as he slides in his chair, the animated one looks my way.  We lock eyes.  I nod a friendly acknowledgement.  He returns my gaze with a nod and an ever-so-subtle smile.  For a moment we have contact.  For a moment we share a common humanity.  It’s a small action.  It won’t stop the bombs falling.  But, is it possible, that societal change could begin with an action as small as eye contact and a smile?

Sean Copeland, October 2023

Lessons From a Cedar Tree

“The righteous shall flourish like the palm tree: he shall grow like a cedar in Lebanon” (Psalm 92:12).

Trees are an amazing part of God’s creation.  I love to photograph trees – especially the ones that are old.  Recently I was in Lebanon visiting and attending meetings with Tearfund Ireland’s local partner.  At the end of a busy week our partners wanted to show us a place that is special to Lebanon.  The country has a long history of producing cedar trees and there are several protected cedar tree reserves.  The cedars of Lebanon are the trees which Solomon used for the construction of the temple in Jerusalem (see 1 Kings 5).

In the high mountainous regions, the cedar trees grow in conditions that can sometimes be harsh.  The winters in the mountains will often be covered with snow, but for several months of the year there is little rain and high temperatures, creating a dry, arid climate.  It is the dry, harsh conditions which create the environment for the tree to produce such a strong wood.  The dry soil forces the tree to send its roots deep into the soil to garner as much of the earth’s nutrients as possible.   Our guide told us, “Nature forces the tree to withstand the harsh climate which creates a resilience.”  

It did not take long for my imagination to explore the analogies with my own life.  How many times have I realised that the times of challenge, difficulty and hardship were the scenarios that produced in me the lessons, learnings and opportunities for growth? 

I recall a time I faced a particularly difficult set of circumstances.  It was painful, confusing and I had not yet comprehended the ‘lessons’ God may have wanted me to learn in that season.  During that time, in conversation with an experienced leader, I relayed how I felt I was at the bottom of my myself and the pain of my confusion felt overwhelming.  Before she said anything a look came over her face that I can only describe as compassion with a mixture of sternness.  “Sometimes you have to dig deeper before you can climb out of the hole.”  For me, at that time, in that circumstance, those words rang true.  That was not an easy sentence to hear; but it gave me a perspective that I needed. 

Walking along the path in the cedar reserves of Lebanon I reflected on how many times I, like the cedar tree, have found the only option is to dig deeper to search for the life sustaining nutrients in the midst of a harsh and difficult environment.

Unlike many other trees, the cedar can live for literally thousands of years.  The reserve we visited boasts several trees that have been dated to be at least 2,500 years old – a few are thought to be closer to 3,000 years old!   The fact that a single tree can survive for that length of time is staggering.

Our guide told us that when a cedar tree reaches about 500 years old, it stops growing taller.  Around this age, the top branches of the tree begin to bend downward and fan outward, creating a canopy protecting the trunk and allows the lower branches to thicken and grow.  That outward expansion, rather than upward reaching, is a mark of the cedar’s continued health and growth.  When the tree ceases to grow taller, the roots continue growing more deeply into the ground, providing durability as well as access to nutrients.

This reveals a fascinating characteristic of the cedar tree.  It has approximately 500 years of upward growth and then, potentially, another 2,000 years of outward and downward growth.

Again, the analogies flow. 

Once a person reaches a certain age, there are perspectives within society which cause us to limit, or question, our effectiveness, or relevance.  In addition, our culture is full of people who are confused about their own sense of meaning and purpose in life, often resorting to striving upward in our careers.  But the cedar tree provides an illustration of individual maturity.  Upon reaching a certain age, our role is not to rest or stop growing, which can cause us to wither.  But, like the cedar tree, continuing maturity requires a change to our growth trajectory.  As the tree redirects its growth, creating opportunities for increasing its own resilience, we too, become more mature as we redirect our goal from an ‘upward’ focus toward an outward focus, creating a canopy for others. 

Reflecting on my past relationships, I have been most impacted by people who have achieved a milestone in their career and are equally focused on their outward growth and their ability to create a canopy for others.  People who have worked hard to reach a stretch goal, as impressive as that achievement may be, are not always the people who are able to provide guidance, insight or wisdom to those who follow. 

I learned a long time ago that I can only give away something that I already have.  Whether that be wisdom, experience, skills, time or resources – if I don’t have it, I can’t offer it to anyone else.  Like the cedar tree, there comes a point where my striving for the heights of success must be redirected to create a canopy for outward influence.  At the same time, I must dig deep so I remain firmly rooted where I can access the necessary nutrients to sustain myself.  In this way, I will build my resilience and flourish through the challenges and have something to offer those who come around me.  Hopefully, for many years to come!

Sean Copeland, September 2023

Reflection and Reset

This blog is an excerpt from some writing following the deaths of my father and my mother-in-law; both of whom recently passed away within a few days of each other.  This writing focuses on ways those who have passed have informed my life choices, but I wish to alert the reader that the topic of death is discussed.

We have an uncomfortable relationship with funerals. We know they are part of life, yet we often try to avoid the awkward conversations about them.  We recognise the importance of making the time to be present at a funeral no matter how distant the relation or acquaintance.  When the funeral is for a loved one, we cherish the expressions of condolence whether written, spoken or demonstrated through presence. 

Many factors can cause this topic to raise emotions and grief.  There are many realities of the world in which we live which do not reflect God’s intended design or desire for creation.  Disease and death are realities of a broken world infected by sin.  So, somehow, we must attempt to wisely and humbly live in the tension between what Scripture reveals as the purposes of God and the myriad of injustices that exist within the world we inhabit.

A funeral is often a time for reflection; an evaluation of one’s past choices and consideration of one’s future options.   When we pause to honour the life of someone close to us or someone we respect, these assessments have potential to carry opportunities for significant decisions.

As a young man I wrote a personal mission statement (yes, I am one of those people!).  I did not think this was unusual until I got older and realised a majority of people have never done this.  I use Scripture in most of my goal setting.  One of these Scriptural goals arises in my thinking at the time of a funeral.  The disciple Peter, in his second letter said, “…I will make every effort to see that after my departure you will always be able to remember these things” (2 Ptr 1:15).   For a long time, I have endeavoured to pass on to those within my circle of influence what God has spoken, in a way that can be remembered and applied in their life. 

A few years ago, I attended the funeral of someone who impacted me – and a lot of other people.  This man did not have an impressive job title or a long, high-powered corporate career.  He didn’t drive a high-end car, nor would anyone have considered him wealthy.  But he had a deep impact on the lives of many people.  He did this by investing time in others.  He would come alongside, support, encourage and, when he thought necessary, he would challenge.  Many of the people in whom he invested are now in positions of significant influence and they have, in turn, continued impacting the lives of even more people. 

At his funeral it was evident this man’s influence reached many people across a wide cross-section of society.  Sitting alongside those whose names would be recognised sat the nameless, faceless people who, in equal measure, benefitted from this man’s sincerity, integrity and desire to leave the world a better place. 

During his funeral one of his pre-selected scripture readings was from 2 Peter 1:12-15.  My heart stirred as the verse was read.  This man recognised his purpose.  He knew his life held a greater purpose.  He, too, was committed to doing all he could to ensure we would remember what God has spoken.  He did this through his simple lifestyle, purposeful relationships and sharing his wisdom so others would grow in their own experience with God.  I am convinced he believed his influence would be multiplied through those who benefitted from his personal investment – but he was humble enough to not allow that be anything more than an objective outcome of his efforts.

Two funerals of close family in recent weeks have prompted me to venture into some periods of deep personal reflection.  Saying goodbye to a parent, thanking the Lord for them and embracing the grieving process with my family and my extended families has been a difficult, but good and healthy process.  In the weeks since I find myself benefitting from what a friend has called the supportive, relational scaffolding provided by family and friends. 

At the same time, my reflections have allowed me to review my major decisions, actions and impact on others.  How am I using what God has given me to benefit, inspire, equip or challenge others?  In what ways is my love for, and apprenticeship to, Jesus growing?  My conclusions from these considerations have reinforced my convictions.   I will continue pursuing my transformation through the renewing of my mind as Christ is being formed in me, so I can live up to what has been attained.  And, through the fruit of the Spirit, I will live as a child of God, doing all I can to help others remember all Jesus taught so we can grow mature and, somehow, experience the whole measure of the fulness of Christ.* 

(* see Rom 12:1-3; Gal 1:20, 5:14-24; Phil 3:12-16; 1 Jn 3:1-3; 1 Ptr 1:15; Mt 28:18-20; Eph 4:11-16)  

Sean Copeland, August 2023

Risking Love

The noisy cafeteria went instantly silent.  I could feel my heart pounding inside my chest as I locked eyes with the ringleader of the three bullies who, two seconds ago, had been laughing.  I was enraged.  I was also frightened as I my mind raced through multiple scenarios of what could happen next – most of those scenarios involved me getting hurt.

But I had taken my stand and I knew I could not back down.  I could feel the attention of every eye in the cafeteria as I stood between the three offenders and the nearby table where their victim sat. 

Tears streamed down her teenage face and her hair was littered with pieces of the lunch the offending boys had been throwing at her while they laughed.  I had seen it happen.  She cried as she yelled at them to stop.  They laughed some more.  Lots of people watched them throwing food at her.  No one did anything.  They were big, muscular and had a particular reputation.  She was a girl with special needs, recently mainstreamed into our inner-city school.  This was wrong.  I didn’t think of what I was going to do before I got out of my chair, I simply knew I had to do something to stop them.

I don’t remember the exact words I said to the ringleader, but he stared unblinkingly back at me.  Offender number three stood to square up to me. Offender number two looked for direction from offender number one, who silently, slowly shook his head. Number three quickly sat down with a tirade of words he probably didn’t understand.

It was over.  Indistinct chatter refilled the cafeteria and a few of my friends took the crying girl to help her clean up. 

The lessons I learned that day were foundational to my formation.  Sometimes doing the right thing involves taking a risk. I often think of this episode when I’m confronted with decisions of right and wrong, standing up against injustice or protecting the vulnerable even if there is a threat to my personal safety. 

When I read the story of the good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37) I frequently think back on my cafeteria experience. 

Jesus used a story about a man who was attacked, beaten, robbed and left injured on a roadside to illustrate how he expects us to behave toward our neighbour.  In the story, Jesus included individuals who would have been expected to help but did not stop to help the injured man.

Familiarity with the story can, if we’re not careful, bring us to swift judgment about the two representatives of religion who demonstrated a lack of care for the injured man.  Likely the men feared for their own safety.  Perhaps they considered this a trap, the injuries were fake, and the actor’s co-conspirators were ready to pounce on them.  Or, possibly, they were on their way home from religious duties and wanted to see their family.  If they touched an unclean person, they would then need to isolate themselves according to laws of purification and this would delay them being able to see their family.  Regardless of the reasonable-ness of their motives for inaction, Jesus highlights their choices as falling short of his values and expectations. 

I’ve often heard this story used to explain a model, or standard, of how love is exemplified.  This is understandable because the conversation began with a reference to the commandments about loving God and loving our neighbour (Lk 10:27).  But at the end of the parable, Jesus did not ask the enquirer, “Which of the three showed love to the injured man?”.   Rather, his question was, “Which of the three proved to be a neighbour?” (Lk 10:36). 

At its simplest, the parable of the Good Samaritan illustrates the expectation that being a good neighbour is challenging, inconvenient, even risky.  This raises an uncomfortable question for me…. if this story illustrates neighbourly behaviour, then what does real love look like?!

Reflecting on my cafeteria confrontation, at no point in those moments did I consider the philosophical, theological or sociological nuances between being a good neighbour or demonstrating loving behaviour.  I simply knew I needed to do something to protect the vulnerable girl and stop the bullying and injustice. 

In the journey of life since that day I’ve had numerous opportunities to make similar decisions.  I frequently pray that the record of my actions will outweigh that of my inaction. Through it all my desire is that my love for the Lord will become so encompassing that it permeates my interactions with others to the point there is no distinction between love for my neighbour and general neighbourly behaviour. 

Sean Copeland, June 2023

Wisdom of the Righteous

I was busily getting things out of the car so we could get down to the beach.  It was a gloriously warm afternoon.  We were on holidays in Spain and had been in the car all day.  We were all ready for the water.   As I was pulling bags from the car one of the kids gasped while another said, “I can’t believe he just did that!”.  I turned around to see what was causing the commotion and saw a very old-looking man walking away from a car.  My wife said, “He’s just taken the keys out of that car”.

I hadn’t seen what happened but the rest of my family did.  The owner of the car had left the windows were open.  The man was walking away from the car in a hurried manner.  He was old and used a walking stick – so even though it was clear he was trying to walk quickly he wasn’t making speedy progress.   My wife repeated what she’d seen and, with an authority that only wives can muster, resolved that something must be done.  Her brave conclusion was that I had to stop him and get the keys back.

It was all a bit surreal.  This was a small car park beside a beach.  It was in the middle of the afternoon.  I hadn’t seen the man take anything.  I just wanted to go swimming.

With my wife’s increasing determination, and my children watching to see how I would handle the situation, I knew I had to do something.  I searched my memories to see if I could remember confronting a thief who was caught in the act.  I wasn’t sure what I would say to him.  I know enough Spanish to get by on a family holiday.  Uno momento…. La quinta por favour…. Gracias….  But I hadn’t learned anything like: “Excuse me sir, but did you just take something from that car?”   It simply never occurred to me that I’d need to use such a sentence on my holiday.

Still unsure of what I would say, I made my way toward the man.  I intercepted his haltingly rapid exit and, pointing at the car, asked him (in English) if he had taken something from the car.   Muttering something in Spanish he looked from me, to the car and back to me.   I hesitated because I didn’t know what he was saying, but he just stood there looking at me.  It was clear to me he didn’t speak English but I pressed on.  Once again I pointed at the car and then to him and then back to the car while asking him if he took something from the car.  Whatever was going through his mind he seemed to know what I was saying because he took a set of keys from his pocket and handed them to me.  He continued mumbling untranslated Spanish as he turned away and resumed his hasty retreat.

My wife & I found the car’s owner and explained what had happened as we returned the keys.  On the walk to the beach we reminded our kids of how it didn’t matter that we didn’t speak the same the language because the man knew he had done something wrong.  I told them that knowledge of right and wrong is not restricted to English or Spanish – it is understood within the language of the heart.

As we spoke to them I was reminded of a recent time of prayer.  I’d been reading Luke 1.17 which speaks of the “disobedient being drawn to the wisdom of the righteous”.  I had asked God to teach me about a wisdom that would cause the disobedient to seek out the righteous.  What level of wisdom would it take for those who are disobedient to be drawn to, attracted to the righteous?  As is typical for me, I presumed I would need to tap into some higher level of wisdom or some yet unexplored level of divine creativity that would cause the disobedient to experience an “Ah-Ha” moment.

But this experience with the Spanish man and the car keys was not some mystical feat of divine engineering.  It was a simple matter of right and wrong.  God used it to teach my children.  He used it to teach me.  I hope the old man has learned a lesson too!  The bonus for me is that this was not only an answer to my prayer – but it is an illustration of how God intends for His people to display His wisdom (Eph 3.10) in such a way that those who don’t yet know him would be drawn to him (Lk 1.17).

 

 

Experience & Becoming

In my job I do a lot of driving.  I may be visiting customers or trying to gain new ones, but I will often drive to locations I’ve never been.  In recent years I’ve become a fan of Google Maps.  Not only does it give good directions (apart from mispronouncing Irish names & locations!) but the ability to switch to street view is real benefit. Being able to ‘see’ the geography around the customer’s location makes the last few minutes of a journey much easier.  Seeing a photograph of the entrance to the building before I arrive helps me know what to look for which saves time and potential hassle.

But, no matter how beneficial a photograph may be, I would be foolish to presume I know all there is to know about the geography around the location.  For starters, the photo may be several years old and the environs may have changed.  Even if it hadn’t changed, there are any number of things which could make my experience different from the perceptions I made from a photograph.

Just because I ‘see’ something doesn’t mean I understand all there is to understand about it.  Even if I know the destination from photos, maps or descriptions of others, I won’t actually ‘know’ it until I’ve experienced it for myself.

This principle is applicable to so much of life and it is especially true of our relationship with God.  Just because someone shows us a picture, or tells us a story, about God does not mean we have a full, complete, understanding of who God is.

One of the biggest challenges for Christians today is the access we have to content about God.  It is possible that we could be the most biblically educated generation in history.  That may be an overstatement but the prevalence of teachings, books, devotionals, variety of translations, on-line videos and smart phone apps means we can be exposed to as much biblical material as we desire.

Yet, I still wonder, how much do we truly know of God from our own, personal experience of Him?  How deep have we gone with him in the privacy of our own prayer closet?   How intimately do we know Holy Spirit’s voice?  How responsive are we to follow, simply because we recognise it is Him speaking?

I don’t want to be someone whose history with God is based on the stories told by someone else.  I don’t want my experience of Him to be reliant on a ‘photograph’ of a destination taking by someone else.  Nor do I want the extent of my experience in Him to be curtailed by the limits of others.  I have never been one to settle for the status-quo and I refuse to accept mediocrity in my journey with Jesus.

I will pursue His Word and the life-giving promises He’s given.  I will seek to believe, to learn and to understand all He has spoken so I can live worthy of the calling I’ve received.  I will seek the presence of His Kingdom that I might know the whole measure of His fullness within me.  I will pursue the growth of my faith through the declaration and demonstration of His love, power and wisdom.  Where my faith is lacking or my understanding falls short I will fall on the grace and mercy of the One Whom I believe.

I extend an invitation to all who share similar desires.  Let’s explore the possibilities of faith together.  Let’s ask Holy Spirit to stir up a hunger and passion for more of Him.  Let’s commit to encourage and support one another in this journey toward transformation. And let us know the One we believe so we can become all He desires us to be.

 

 

Exploring IN Christ

When I was about 8 years old my family moved house.  Along with a bigger garden the house had a full basement.  I remember the day I discovered the ‘secret room’ in the basement.  Looking back now, I don’t remember how long we’d been in the house before I discovered the secret room, but it must have been a number of months.  I remember the surprise at realising this room had always been there, I just hadn’t seen it.  There were two mains areas of the basement.  In one my parents had installed the washing machine & dryer so it was called the ‘utility room’.  Off this room was a door that led to the ‘furnace room’ where the air conditioning and water heater were kept.  This room was off-limits to us kids.

But one day, I explored.  To my surprise, on the other side of the furnace was another door.  I knew I shouldn’t be there but I couldn’t resist.  I opened the door to see a labyrinth of my grandfather’s word-working tools.  It almost a Narnia-type entrance into another world.  This is where my granddad would disappear for hours at a time.  This is the place those shelves were made, doors were repaired and picture frames were crafted.  I loved the smell of the timber, the feel of the natural materials and the concept that this is where an idea could be fashioned into reality.  This became a new hide-away for me.  My granddad knew I was exploring his ‘workshop’ but he never let on that he knew.

The discovery of this room has similarities with our current discussion of the presence and purpose of Holy Spirit.  I’ve always known He’s in me, with me and guiding me.  But, the wording of many Scriptures is leading me more deeply into rooms of the house that are yet undiscovered.

“In Christ all the fullness of God lives in bodily form, and you have been given fullness in Christ” (Col 2.9f)

 “All things are yours… and you are of Christ and Christ is of God.” (1 Cor 3.22)

“When he has put everything under his feet…then the Son himself will be made subject to him [God] who put everything under him, so that God may be all in all.” (1 Cor 15.28)

“…that you may be filled to the whole measure of the fullness of God.”  (Eph 3.19)

 

These statements from Paul are reminders of Jesus’ declaration in his prayer before he was crucified:

“… just as you are in me and I am in you; may they also be in us… I have given them the glory you gave me that they may be one as we are one…” (Jn 17.21-24)

There is much to discover in these verses.  Let us not be constrained by false boundaries that restrict us exploring the depth and meaning of what it means to be ‘IN Christ’ or what it means for Christ to be IN us.   Let us not fall into the temptation of resting in what is theologically familiar.  Rather, let us embrace the desire to explore the fullness of God’s promises.  Let’s unite our hearts in faith and spur one another on to pursue the depths of what it means to live IN the fullness of God.

 

Foreshadows IN Christ

The Old Testament story of God’s people wandering around the wilderness provides many lessons for us today.  There are many aspects to our relationship with God that have a foreshadow in the Old Testament.  Scholars use the term foreshadow to describe an event or situation that finds its fulfilment in the life and ministry of Jesus.  One such significant foreshadow is the fact that God dwelt among the people – He dwelt with them.

In God’s earliest interactions with Abraham, Isaac & Jacob He revealed Himself TO them.  Each time He spoke to them, He revealed a little more of His nature and character.  But, it was always at a distance.  Even His conversations with Abraham were at intervals of several years.

When Moses first encountered God, he had to ask, “Who are you?”.   Through the confrontations with Pharaoh Moses learned to trust God.  So much trust was gained that when God gave Moses the job of leading the people out of Egypt, Moses said, “Not unless you go with us.”

God honoured that request.  Not only did He go with the people, he gave instructions for a special tent which would be a dedicated space for God to dwell among the people.  It became known as the Tent of Meeting.

Our familiarity with the story could result in our overlooking the significance of God dwelling with the people – but, that would be to our detriment.  God chose to, somehow, locate Himself among the people.  In so doing He was there to guide their movements, give instruction, provide for their needs and initiate relationship.  God dwelt WITH the people.  This was a foreshadow of what God intended to reveal through the person of Jesus.

Jesus was God in the flesh (Jn 1.14).  He came to perfectly and completely reveal the Father’s nature, character and desires (Hb 1.3).  Jesus lived with the people, he grew up in a family, he was one of them – yet He was without sin (Hb 4.15).  In Jesus, God revealed Himself WITH the people.

So, with the Patriarchs, God revealed Himself TO people. But through Jesus, He revealed Himself WITH people.

The implications of the foreshadowing go even deeper.  God did not intend to only reveal Himself WITH people – His intention was to reveal Himself IN people.  His intention was that the Tent of Meeting would be a representation of His interaction within the spirit of each of His children.  His intention was to always be available to guide our movements, to instruct us in life’s decisions, to provide for our every need and to maintain intimate relationship.

From the release of His presence on the day of Pentecost, Holy Spirit has been available to enter the spirit of every believer and reveal Himself IN us.  This presence of Holy Spirit is the deposit which guarantees our inheritance; the seed which brings to life all things spoken by the Father and provision for our access to the fullness of God.

God is revealing Himself IN the believer.

 

Belief in the Fullness

I became a Christian in my teenage years.  I won’t tell you my age… but I now have teenagers of my own.  Even after all this time of being a ‘Believer’ there are a lot of things in the Bible that I find hard to believe.  It’s not that I have an active unbelief toward these things.  It’s more that I am simply unable to comprehend their magnitude.  As a result, they aren’t included among the first things when I describe things I believe.

Take, for instance, this statement from the Apostle Paul:  “For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form, and you have been given fullness in Christ…” (Colossians 2.9-10; NIV)

Even though my heart burns within me as I read this statement, the implication remains somewhat of a mystery.  It just sounds so BIG.   So unimaginable.   So unbelievable.

I am comfortable with – and even believe – the theological concept that God Himself dwells within Christ.  Hebrews 1.3 tells us that Jesus is the perfect representation of the Father.  And, in many other places, the Bible tells us that Jesus and the Father are One (see Jn 14.10).  Though I may find it difficult to explain, I have a reference point for this.

But, how could it be possible that I have fullness in Christ if, at the same time, God is fully manifesting Himself in Christ?  It feels a bit incongruous.  He’s perfectly pure and I’m…. not.  Some days when I read this scripture I find myself wanting to buy into it wholeheartedly.  But, other times, I sit uncomfortably on a train of thought that leads me to doubt.

Is this tension and lack of clarity a sign of unbelief?   I don’t think so.  Quite the opposite.  Using the analogy of the fence (see posts), I think I’m discovering a fence I didn’t realise was there.  Or, maybe more likely, I’m coming up on what I thought was a boundary only to discover it is an entry-point into a new horizon of faith.

The clue that gave it away was the fact that my heart continues to burn when I read and consider this passage.  That tells me Holy Spirit is highlighting a truth – even if it is hidden.    I have often held onto the truth that God has chosen to make known the mystery of Christ in us (Col 1.27).  But recently Holy Spirit has been highlighting that in Christ are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge (Col 2.3).  My heart has been lit aflame with this idea and I have been seeking these treasures with zeal.  So, I will continue pursuing the hidden treasure of what it means for me to have been given fullness in Christ.

I cannot yet articulate all I’m sensing.  Nor do I know the extent of what lies on the other side of the fence I’m dismantling, but I’m praying that I will have sufficient courage to explore the fullness of these new realms.