A true story…

The very wealthy English Baron Fitzgerald had only one child, a son, who understandably was the apple of his eye, the centre of his affections, an only child, the focus of this little family's attention.

The son grew up, but in his early teens his mother died, leaving him and his father. Fitzgerald grieved over the loss of his wife but devoted himself to fathering their son. In the passing of time, the son became very ill and died in his late teens. In the meantime, the Fitzgerald financial holdings greatly increased. The father had used much of his wealth to acquire art works of the "masters."

And with the passing of more time, Fitzgerald himself became ill and died. Previous to his death he had carefully prepared his will with explicit instructions as to how his estate would be settled. He had directed that there would be an auction in which his entire collection of art would be sold. Because of the quantity and quality of the art works in his collection, which was valued in the millions of English pounds, a huge crowd of prospective buyers gathered, expectantly. Among them were many museum curators and private collectors eager to bid.

The art works were displayed for viewing before the auction began. Among them was one painting which received little attention. It was of poor quality and done by an unknown local artist. It happened to be a portrait of Fitzgerald's only son.

When the time came for the auction to begin, the auctioneer brought the crowd to attention and before the bidding began, the attorney read first from the will of Fitzgerald which instructed that the first painting to be auctioned was the painting of "my beloved son."

The poor quality painting didn't receive any bidders ... except one. The only bidder was the old servant who had known the son and loved him and served him and for sentimental reasons offered the only bid. For less than an English pound he bought the painting.

The auctioneer stopped the bidding and asked the attorney to read again from the will. The crowd was hushed, it was quite unusual, and the attorney read from the Fitzgerald will: "Whoever buys the painting of my son gets all my art collection. The auction is over!"

Scripture says, ‘He who has the Son has life’ (1 John 5v12).  He who has the Son gets everything.  Or put another way, if you have the Son you have it all…

In his adventure

Jools

As humans we have a strong need for control.  We fear the results if we are not in charge.  So what does that mean for the life of faith which trusts God’s sovereignty and control?  Henri Nouwen, a Dutch theologian and author, found the answer in the Flying Rodleighs, a trapeze troupe from South Africa. While in Germany, he attended a performance out of curiosity and found himself transfixed by the artistry of the acrobats. But in the flying and spinning Nouwen saw more than an exhilarating show—he saw theology in motion. Nouwen observed that the flyer—the person soaring through the air—is really not the star of the trapeze performance. While everyone is focused on the flyer’s aerial manoeuvres, they sometimes fail to see that the manoeuvres are only possible because the flyer fully trusts that he will be caught. Everything depends on the catcher. This led Nouwen to a new way of understanding his life with God. “I can only fly freely when I know there is a catcher to catch me,” he wrote.

To more fully engage his new metaphor for the Christian life, Nouwen was fitted with a harness and ascended the trapeze himself. The sixty-something former Yale and Harvard professor giggled as he flew. And like a child, after each descent to the net, he would ask to go up again and again. Knowing he was safe allowed any fear of heights or injury to be replaced with childish joy. He said, If we are to take risks, to be free, in the air, in life, we have to know there’s a catcher. We have to know that when we come down from it all, we’re going to be caught, we’re going to be safe. The great hero is the least visible. Trust the catcher.  Nouwen’s trapeze exemplifies faith. Faith is the opposite of seeking control. It is surrendering control.

In his adventure

Julian

In the run up to Easter I wanted to do a discipleship series I’ve called ‘In his steps’.  The first in this series is about dealing with temptation.  Writer and church leader, Michael Green talks of seven consequences of sin that he observes in Genesis 1-3. ‘Sin’ may be an old fashioned word, but it continues to have relevance to us today.  Here is a brief summary of what Green highlights…

1. Sin impacts others. 

No matter what the nature of our sin, it will eventually hurt others.  Even private sin.  So, for example, looking at porn on the internet impacts how we view our partners (if we have one) and certainly how we view ourselves.

2. Sin leads to a sense of defilement and dirtiness.

Ultimately, sin does not satisfy. The brief moment of pleasure turns to ashes in the mouth and with it often comes a sense of being defiled.

3. Sin separates people from God.

If God seems far away, guess who moved?  Sin leads to a broken relationship with God and even makes that relationship seem less desirable.  And the worst part is that it kills hunger for God – we sleepwalk into a hazardous future unaware of our ongoing accountability for our lives.

4. Sin is the basic cause of fear.

When humans walk in company with God, they find a perfect love that casts out fear. When they don't, fear haunts their dreams.  Observers of human behavior cite fear and control as basic drivers in the human psyche – the Bible shows where that motivation comes from – sin.

5. Sin causes us to deny our own responsibility.

When was the last time you heard a politician say, ‘I was wrong’?   Humans blame everybody else, but themselves.  The game of passing the buck is the oldest game in the world as a brief look at the responses of Adam and Eve will tell you.

6. Sin leads to spiritual death.

We may be physically alive for 80 years or so, but we are cut off from life at the deepest level.  Sin cuts us off from the source of real life - God.  There is a deep abiding sense humans have that, ‘there must be more than this’.  People try to ignore it.  The bible puts words to it: ‘He who has the Son has life.  He who does not have the Son…’ You can guess the rest.

7. Sin brings judgement.

Humans have chosen to not go God's way, therefore the punishment in Eden fitted the crime...The judgement of God was only what mankind chose - separation from God.

But there is hope - God loved us while we were still sinners.  And he decided to help us out.  Indeed, far from God being a tyrant as the Tempter suggests, he loved us so much he sent Jesus to destroy all the results of sin, to enable us to overcome temptation and to live a new life.

May we learn to live in his adventure

Jools

An adaptation of material found in chapter 3 of Michael Green's, "I Believe in Satan's Downfall".

In a recent book Skye Jethani described the following pilgrimage destination.

Fifteen hundred years ago, the emperor of Rome built a tomb for his beloved sister.  The small building was designed in the shape of a cross with a vaulted ceiling covered with mosaics of swirling stars in an indigo sky.  The focal point of the mosaic ceiling was a depiction of Jesus the Good Shepherd surrounded by sheep in an emerald paradise.

The mausoleum of Galla Placidia still stands in Ravenna, Italy, and has been called by scholars ‘the earliest and best preserved of all mosaic monuments; and one of the ‘most artistically perfect’.  But visitors who have admired its mosaics in travel books and on postcards will be disappointed when they enter the mausoleum.  The structure has only tiny windows and what light does enter is usually blocked by a mass of tourists.  The ‘most artistically perfect’ mosaic monument, the inspiring vision of the Good Shepherd in a starry paradise, is hidden behind a veil of darkness.

But the impatient who leave the chapel will miss a stunning unveiling.  With no advance notice, spotlights near the ceiling are turned on when a tourist finally manages to drop a coin into the small metal box along the wall.  The lights illuminate the iridescent tiles of the mosaic but only for a few seconds.  One visitor described the experience: ‘The lights come on,.  For a brief moment, the briefest of moments – the eye doesn’t have time to take it all in, the eye casts about – the dull, hot darkness overhead becomes a starry sky, a dark-blue cupola with huge, shimmering stars that seem startling close.  ‘Ahhhhh!’ comes the sound from below, and then the light goes out, and again there’s darkness, darker than ever before.’

Perhaps your experience of noticing God is a bit like that.  The lights go on for a few seconds and then go out again.  Hang in there, the presence of the Good Shepherd is still there in the room – even if you can’t see him.  Give it time and you may catch a fresh glimpse of Him in all his wonder again.

But one day we will see the Good Shepherd in all his fullness across the sky and the lights will never go out again.

Until that day we say with the rest of the church through the centuries, come Lord Jesus.

Julian Holdsworth.