Category Archives: Reflections

Simon, Simon, Simon (Part 2)

One of the challenges we have when we read back on the life of Simon Peter and the other disciples is that we tend to read from a perspective of what we have learned.  When I read about Simon I automatically call him ‘Peter’.  (Even as I type this I am prone to type ‘Peter’ even when I’m trying to point out the difference between this and his original name, Simon.)

But, have you ever noticed when reading through the gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke and John) that every time Jesus spoke to Peter he still called him Simon?  There is only one exception to this, which we’ll look at later.

The first time Jesus met Simon he said to him, “You shall be called Peter”.  Yet Jesus continued to call him Simon…, Simon…, Simon…

I was really surprised when I came across this.  I had grown so accustomed to knowing Simon as ‘Peter’ that I made that name-shift in my head when I read the stories about Simon or, as John often referred to him, Simon Peter.   But, by doing this re-naming as I read, I never recognised that Jesus continued to refer to Simon as Simon – even after giving him the new name of Peter.

Simon…, Simon…, Simon…

Why would Jesus do that?  Why give him a new name but continue to refer to him by the old name?  Did Simon have to grow into this new name….?  Were there things Simon needed to learn or graduate into before he could take on his new name?

Perhaps he did.  But can you imagine the doubts that could have been swimming through Simon’s mind?  Jesus gave me a new name but he still calls me by Simon, is there something I’m missing…?  Or, perhaps Simon had some sense of recognition that the new identity given by Jesus, ROCK, was too much of a stretch.  Jesus must see something in me that he would give me that name.  Peter resonates within me but I still feel that identity is too lofty for me to achieve.

I can imagine the doubts that must have run through Simon’s mind.  But what was he learning in the process?

I’ve learned through my process.  I have a vision that burns in my heart. “You shall be called Peter”.

Yet I remain in the process of learning.   Simon…, Simon…, Simon…

Simon’s New Name (Part 1)

When Jesus began his ministry the first two disciples were those that had been following John the Baptist. One of them, Andrew, had a brother called Simon.  Andrew wanted to let his brother know about Jesus so he went to get him saying, “We have found the Messiah!” and brought Simon to meet Jesus.  When Andrew and Simon arrived, Jesus said to him, “You are Simon, the son of John, you will be called Peter” (Jn 1.42; cf Mk 3.16).

Imagine how Simon must’ve felt in that moment.  This man, this Prophet, this one his brother called the Messiah just initiated an intimate encounter with him.   And, in doing so, forever altered Simon’s identity.

In that culture, men were identified as being the son of their father.  That’s why so many people are introduced as the ‘Son of …..’.   Yet, without having met Simon previously, Jesus calls out Simon’s name, “You are Simon the son of John”.

Jesus seems to jump right into the deep, personal places of Simon’s heart by giving him a new name.  Not only is he stating how much he knows about Simon, but he is also stating how well he knows Simon.  The depth of intimate knowledge Jesus has for Simon is exemplified by giving him a new name – but this is more than just a new pet name, or a nick-name like you’d get from your friends.  In this re-naming, Jesus is telling Simon, ‘I am giving you a new identity, a new direction for your life.  Not only do you have a new name, now you have a new Father.’

But there’s even more to this.  We know from other parts of Scripture that when Jesus speaks his words actually create the reality he speaks about.  So, imagine being Simon in that moment.  Not only does Jesus speak to something about his identity, but inwardly he must’ve felt something that went deeper than an intimate moment of self-awareness.  The new reality which was created as Jesus spoke would have initiated a stirring in the depths of Simon’s spirit.  He most likely would not have been able to articulate what he was experiencing, but a new reality had just been conceived in the very depths of Simon’s identity.

Have you ever had a similar experience with Jesus?  Have you felt a shift in your identity when he spoke to you about something?  I have.  There was a day many years ago when he clarified a vision – a life calling.  The clarity of that vision changed everything.  From that point to now I have attempted to work out that vision in every way possible.  When Jesus speaks something like this it cannot be forgotten, nor can it be manufactured or forced into being.  There’s an element of faithfully working toward it, but there’s an even larger element of allowing God to orchestrate all the required parts.

Who, not What

The Church has spent far too much time teaching people what to believe.   Correct doctrine; right theology;  acceptable behaviours;  this is the way to expresses our faith; this is what decently and in order looks like…  All of these things have a degree of importance but, somehow, they have become the focus.  Too many church communities have spent so much energy on these and we’ve not equipped people for the most important thing.

Our focus should not be on WHAT we believe; our focus should be on WHO we believe.

The Church has, since the 1940’s, taken an apologetic approach to teaching.   With a motivation to protect people from the rising tide of secularism and rationalism, the Church began to teach people how to defend themselves against the challenges of those who did not believe.

While that may have been necessary given the cultural influences at the time the Church has, to this day, continued to teach people what to believe at the expense of helping them discover who to believe.  In our attempts to counter-act a rationalistic, materialistic, humanistic and pluralistic worldview we have tried to teach people a list of doctrines rather than helping people discover who God truly is.

Admittedly, our intentions have been for the good of people, but the questions need to be asked.  After generations of telling people what they should believe, is the average church-goer becoming more like Jesus?  Are we increasingly displaying the heart and character of God?  Do we, those set apart as God’s holy people, have reputations among society as being ones who exemplify the fruit of the Spirit?

We have put so much effort into methods and practices that we have, effectively, taught people a list of rules and behaviours.  In doing so, we have firmly established Christianity as a religion.  But what we need is to remember WHO it is we’re in relationship with.

  • Love isn’t something we should ‘do’ because we’ve been taught how to behave; Love is part of our nature as we become more like our Father.
  • Prayer isn’t a technique or a chore; prayer is communication with our loving Father
  • Sharing God’s grace and mercy with others isn’t a programme or a method; mercy is a natural expression of our love of God and our compassion for people.
  • Learning to hear God’s voice and know his presence is not something we strive for and then give up if we “don’t feel like it”.  Developing our relationship with him is the one thing we pursue because he is good and being with him is important to us.

I believe the Church needs to reconsider our approach to preaching, teaching and mission in order to model for people a life of personal encounters with God through which they will learn to develop and deepen their relationship with Him.  I humbly acknowledge the challenge of this view but am increasingly convinced of its necessity.

Focusing on WHAT we believe leads us to behaviours but focusing on WHO we believe leads us to becoming like him.

I know him who I have believed and he is able to guard that which I have entrusted to him (2 Tim 1.12)

I Understand

I understand your frustration.  I understand the questions you have – wondering if this is all there is to Church life.  I know the confusion you’ve felt, wondering if what you’re experiencing is the fullness of the life Jesus talked about.  I understand that you would feel deeply hurt if what you’ve experienced is all that is available.  Disappointed at feeling as though you’ve been misled.  Even angry, that someone had tapped into the deepest parts of you only to then leave you with a list of behaviours to mimic, meetings to attend and rules to follow.  I understand. I’ve been there myself.  I’ve felt this way too.

There really is more to this whole Christianity thing.  There really is more to what Church should be.  More to who God is.  More to who you are.

I don’t have it all figured out yet.  I’m still learning.  But what I have discovered is so much better than I imagined possible.  The things I’m learning are incredible, liberating, life-giving.  They are so wonderful I often stop and wonder why I didn’t see them before.  Why didn’t anyone tell me?  How have so many of us missed these things?

I understand if you are sceptical.  I know how deeply you’ve been hurt, disillusioned, disappointed.  I realise that by raising these ideas I’m opening up wounds that you felt had healed over.  But I’m asking you to try trusting me.  That little tug you feel in your heart; I encourage you to allow yourself to follow it.  Come with me, let’s explore together.  Let’s discover what God has in store for those who believe.

Journey To the Top of the Mountain

Have you ever noticed that when you go on a journey, you rarely travel directly from the starting place to the destination?  Roads aren’t made to go straight from town to town.  Walking up a mountain you usually walk a path that weaves back and forth as it climbs.   Even when traveling by airplane, the pilot will fly along a determined flight-path.

When selecting the photo for this site I knew as soon as I saw the photo in the banner it was the one I wanted.  As an illustration, allow me to use the top of the highest point of the mountain as my destination.   But, if I’m following the road to get to that mountain top, the road will take me away from the peak in order to bring me toward it.

That’s the way life sometimes works.  The journey is not always a straight shot to the destination.  In the process of getting to where we want to go it’s normal for us to travel what seems like an alternative route in order to get there.

Our spiritual development is no different.  I don’t want to sound overly simplistic, but it’s easier to accept this principle when we’re in times of positivity.  But when we’re struggling with confusion, frustration or pain – especially when it feels as though we keep coming back to the same points of pain – we don’t really like to hear that we’re on a journey toward maturity.

I’ve spent a lot of years in the progress of process.  Over the years, there were times I was convinced I was about to exit the process and arrive at the destination, yet it continued to elude me.  There were also times during which I felt if there was one more challenge or delay I would crack under the weight of it all, but that didn’t happen either.

I have learned many lessons but there are two that stand out above them all.

1. God is always good. I feel a bit strange putting that down as a lesson because I don’t recall ever doubting this or feeling like he wasn’t being good. But, the lesson I’ve learned is how important it has been for me to acknowledge his goodness even in the most difficult and challenging times.

My relationship with him has grown to new depths through my learning how to worship and honour him as my Good Father in the midst of telling him how painful and confusing things have been.  There were many times I would ask him to intervene and change my circumstances but, through his grace, I was also able to state my willingness to remain in that place if he had more for me to learn.  As those months turned into seasons I grew in deeper love for him and his goodness.

2. The process helped me gain clarity on my goals. A number of years ago I came across Jeremiah 32.39 and asked God to help me become a man of singleness of heart and action so that I would always serve him. Little did I expect the difficulties I would face that would help me refine the affections of my heart.

Back in 1992 God spoke to me very clearly, giving me a vision for life and ministry.  I have held onto those promises and have attempted to live them out as well as I could given the circumstances in which I found myself. The challenges I’ve faced have helped develop perseverance and resilience, bringing a clarity and assurance of who I am and what I want to do.

Now it feels as though I’m coming into the clearing and able to see the top of the mountain.  Maybe I’m experiencing an unwarranted feeling of positivity and the path will, once again, wind back through thickets. Either way, I’ll have a chance to go deeper in my love for God and continue becoming who he intended me to be.

Compelled to Explore

I’ve often wondered what went through the minds of those who were explorers: David Livingstone, Ernest Shackleton, Lewis & Clark.

What was it like for them to plan their trip, predict the necessary supplies and embark on their journey not knowing what they would encounter?  Or what was it like for them to set off each morning not knowing what would be on the other side of the mountain?  What influenced their decision to cut a path through the forest or follow a river downstream?  More importantly what was the inner drive that motivated them to undertake what most people would have considered a foolish endeavour?

There are times I identify with these explorers.  Sometimes, I can feel their sense of adventure and excitement.  Other times, I imagine their apprehension.  But, most often, I relate to what I think drove them in their relentless pursuit of discovery.

Deep inside I have a conviction that there is more – a tangible ‘more’ that taps into the abundance of life Jesus promised.  This awareness of what God has made available drives me, compels me, pulls me to pursue him.  The irony is, I know this destination exceeds what I can imagine yet I have a clear, spirit-shaped sense of what it looks like.

With a confidence from the little I’ve experienced, I can almost see the blue-print and set out a faint shape of what the ‘more’ looks like.  But because the destination is, as yet, unseen I often feel my search requires laboriously cutting through vines and thick under-brush in the manner of the early explorers.

Undeterred by the struggle, the hunger in my spirit drives me on. It awakens my senses and I clear a path toward him.  I smell the fragrance of his presence; feel the gentle breeze of his whisper; hear the stillness of his voice and recall the goodness I have tasted; so I pursue.

Most have put down roots in the long-cleared settlements. Having no desire to explore seeming uncharted areas, their voices rise in my direction, “There’s nothing more to be discovered”, “Why put yourself at risk?”, “But we’ve formed a settlement that’s big enough for everyone”.   Yet I am not satisfied.  There must be more.

I have already made mistakes, taken wrong turns and wrestled with the questions of returning to the settlement.  But my inner longing fuels the compulsion to search, to forge ahead, to risk. There must be more.  I know there is more.  I must have more.

 

I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.

 

Experience Provides the Proof

Elisha asked for a double-portion of Elijah’s prophetic anointing.  With a response that sounds a bit like he was scratching his head wondering if this could be possible, Elijah told Elisha, “If you see me when I am taken, it will be granted” (2 Kings 2.10).

When Elijah was taken up in the whirlwind Elisha saw it and picked up the cloak that Elijah had dropped.  While there was no physical indication that anything had changed, Elisha was faced with the choice.  Would he test the word of the Prophet to prove whether it would be true?

He had seen Elijah remove his cloak, roll it up, hit the water to make a dry passage across the river bed.  So that was the way he tested to see if he’d been given the double-portion.  Hitting the water with the cloak was a physical act that caused a supernatural response.  When the water parted, Elisha knew that things had changed.

Elijah then had to apply belief that this initial experience provided proof that the request was granted – he would need to apply faith to the expectation that he would see the fullness of the double-portion.

Elisha could have doubted, and allowed his doubt to stop him from testing the promise.  What if it doesn’t work?  What if the water doesn’t part and the other prophets see me?

Sometimes, the only way to find out if what we’ve requested has been granted is through trying.   Experience usually requires taking a risk.

God’s Will & Jesus’ Teaching

I really like the way Jesus taught. Frequently I come across something Jesus said that makes me smile. So often he would say something that would be stated a challenge to some, but to someone else, the same statement was an invitation.

One instance is from John 7.16 where he said, “My Teaching is not my own. It comes from the one who sent me. If anyone chooses to do God’s will he will find out whether my teaching comes from God.”

Jesus was responding to the peoples’ amazement at his teaching. In his humility, he said that what he spoke wasn’t something he came up with himself, but had originated with God the Father. The challenge was that anyone who wanted to explore more of this teaching would be invited to pursue God’s will to do so.

What I find interesting about this invitation is the way it challenges us to test while, at the same time, invites us to pursue the will of God. But the only way we can truly know the will of God is to do what Jesus taught – then we’ll come to know whether his teaching comes from God.

Again, it comes back to the necessity of our lived experience that enables us to prove the will of God.

It is not through agreeing with what we’ve heard, or even saying that we believe what we’ve heard that validates the teacher, but only by putting into practice what we’ve heard. Only by testing the teaching can we stand over our belief or agreement in the teaching.

Proving the Kingdom

When King Saul wanted young David to wear his armour before going out to confront Goliath, David responded:   “No, I cannot wear this. I have not proved it.”

David did not want to wear the armour because he didn’t have any experience in wearing or using such equipment. He was not used to it. He had not tested it. He had not proven its effectiveness.

As we use something and experience it’s effectiveness we can stand over it; vouch for its value; be confident in its functionality; prove its worth.

 

The biblical language is similar to what Paul used in Romans 12.2.

“…be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve the will God…” (NIV)

God has an expectation that, as our minds are renewed, we will learn his will to the extent that we can recognise it, test it, stand over it and approve it.

While it is good to hear teaching and grow familiar with biblical doctrine; have I ‘proven’ it for myself?

While it is helpful to be around others and learn from their ministry experiences; have I ‘proven’ it for myself?

This implies that life will provide opportunities to experience the benefits of God’s will as we make decisions through daily living. In applying God’s Word to every-day circumstances, we learn to ‘prove’ the truth of his Word and experience the benefits of recognising his good, pleasing and perfect will.

Love, Fight or Flight

Jesus used a story about a man who was attacked, beaten, robbed and left injured on a roadside. The ones we would expect to have mercy and help were the ones who didn’t stop to help him. The reasons (excuses) implied in the story could well have been related to their religious traditions.

Even if we give them the benefit of doubt, and presume they didn’t act because they believed their action would put them in some form of danger, difficulty or inconvenience; at best we can see their worldview was flawed because they chose not to help someone in need, even though they had the opportunity to do so.

The other side of this can be found in John 16.2 when Jesus warned his followers of the harm that would likely come to them at the hands of others. He says, “…a time is coming when anyone who kills you will think he is offering a service to God.”

Now we have a group of people who are completely committed to God – so much so, that they are willing to kill another person and consider it a service to God.  In this instance their worldview makes it permissible to inflict harm on another person because of the difference of belief, teaching or practice of devotion to God.

In the first instance (Lk 10.31) the religious worldview chose to ignore someone who had been harmed, but in the second instance (Jn 16.2) the religious worldview chose to inflict harm.   Both operated from a worldview that was based in some form of devotion to God and both felt they were justified in their decision.  BUT, Jesus made it clear that both were wrong.  In Luke 10.37 he said they didn’t demonstrate love and in John 16.3 he said those people don’t know him or the Father.

While it may be easy to hear of these two negative extremes and respond with something like, “Oh, I would never do that.” It may be helpful to take time for critical reflection.

  • Have we ever chosen not to act when we could have done something to help another person who was in need?
  • Have we ever distanced ourselves from someone because we were uncomfortable with their opinions or personality?
  • Have we ever inflicted harm (emotional, psychological, physical or spiritual) on another person because we did not agree with their position on something?

We’re familiar with the defence mechanisms of Fight or Flight.  In relationships we employ these through the manoeuvres of Attack or Withdraw.  It is important to remember that these mechanisms are based in fear.  If we operate from fear, we are not operating from love.

The first group mentioned above operated in Flight.  They were, in some way, afraid of what would happen if they got involved so they withdrew from the situation.  The second group operated in Fight.  They were afraid of someone expressing their love for God differently from their own and their means of dealing with this fear was to attack (or kill).

Neither expression is borne out of love.  Love does not kill; love does not ignore people in need; love does not fear.  Perfect love casts out fear.