The Biblical Account of Creation

I recently re-read Genesis to clarify the Biblical account of creation. My effort coincided with the discovery of the farthest galaxy last week.

As a person who enjoys learning more about the physical world, I find myself tiring of blanket religious negations of scientific evidence.

I have no doubt that those belonging to the creationist, evolution and intelligent design schools of thought have become so polarised and entrenched in their positions that my interpretation may well be dismissed as invalid by all parties to the debate. I will still endeavour to present scripture that demonstrates that the biblical account can support some aspects of modern thought which traditionalists assume to be at variance with the scriptural view of the universe’s origin.

We read: ‘In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep’ (Gen. 1:1,2)

We have no idea of the time span between verses 1 and 2, nor a complete description of the process. Paul states, ‘Through faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God, so that things which are seen were not made of things which do appear.’ (Heb. 11:3) Paul explains the context of ‘framed’ (Gk. katērtisthai, meaning prepared or fitted, i.e. ordered);  that simply the chaos of the universe required a non-physical unified intervention of supreme power to bring it into an order that could sustain life and promote man’s well-being. The physical universe came into existence and order out of nothing less than the will of God.

Consistent with this idea of initial chaos, physicist Adilson Motter has used rigorous mathematics to prove that this was indeed the state of the early universe. Specifically, the earth, in its infancy, is described by scientists as a rotating cloud of dust, rock and gas. So ‘without form and void’ is an apt description.

Genesis 1: 3 establishes transition of the universe’s energy into the visible spectrum: ‘And God said, "Let there be light," and there was light.’ My initial assumption was that surely this is a problem: since light has always existed. However, physicists refer to a specific primordial epoch as the Dark Ages of the Universe.

When the Universe cooled down after the Big Bang, about 13.7 billion years ago, electrons and protons combined to form neutral hydrogen gas. This cool dark gas was the main constituent of the Universe during the so-called Dark Ages, when there were no luminous objects. This phase eventually ended when the first stars formed and their intense ultraviolet radiation slowly made the hydrogen fog transparent again by splitting the hydrogen atoms back into electrons and protons, a process known as reionisation. This epoch in the Universe’s early history lasted from about 150 million to 800 million years after the Big Bang. (Galaxies during the era of reionisation: http://www.eso.org/public/images/eso1041a/)

So, ‘Let there be light’ refers to the later period of star formation and intense UV radiation that ends this phase of dark gas by splitting it into positive and negative particles. The sun and solar system eventually form and the rotation of that early accretion of material called Earth gives rise to the first terrestrial day and night:

‘And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness. And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And the evening and the morning were the first day.’

The meaning of Genesis 1:6 – 8 has always seemed very specific and yet obscure: ‘And God said, Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it divide the waters from the waters. And God made the firmament, and divided the waters which were under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament: and it was so. And God called the firmament Heaven. And the evening and the morning were the second day’

The Hebrew word is for firmament means ‘a spreading outwards’. From the standpoint of the earthly observer, the sky is a canopy surrounding the earth in all directions. As the earth cools, water collects forming oceans, on one hand and on the other, spreading outwards or evaporating as vapour and clouds in the sky. A dense atmosphere now surrounds the earth.

Evaporation continues as dry land appears, separating the oceans:

‘And God said, Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto one place, and let the dry land appear: and it was so. And God called the dry land Earth; and the gathering together of the waters called he Seas: and God saw that it was good’ (Gen. 1: 9 – 10)

Verse 11 is startling. It should be contrasted with the creation of man. It firmly indicates that the earth is permitted to generate and sustain life naturally, rather than requiring a supernatural intervention. It does not say, ‘And God said, Let there be grass, the herb yielding seed…’ Instead it says, Let the earth bring forth…’ We can deduce that God has by the previous events established the conditions for nature to do its work under His providence. It only needs his permission for a natural, rather than supernatural, chain of events to occur. If God had said of childbirth, Let women bring forth children, should we assume that any such offspring are born supernaturally?

The same is said of the oceans: ‘And God said, Let the waters bring forth abundantly the moving creature that hath life, and fowl that may fly above the earth in the open firmament of heaven.’ With the right conditions for life in place, the waters have the capacity to bring forth all kinds of animals, from simple organisms to fishes, reptiles, amphibians and birds.

In the next verse, the focus turns towards the dry land again, as the agent of land-based mammalian life. So the clear biblical teaching is that creation, beyond the initial chaos appearing out of nothing in Genesis 1:2, is God initiating a sequence of natural events. This does not deny the Big Bang or evolution entirely, it is the ordering of existence from chaos. Although the natural sequence was now complete in six days, scripture gives no detail on the full mechanics of the universe’s origin. We only understand in Genesis 1: 28 – 29 that the whole process is the culmination of a gift of providence towards man.

The only exception to God’s employment of earth and water as intermediate agents is Man. God Himself fashions man from frail dust to bear the imprint of God. He comes to life by supernatural intervention ‘the breath of life’, rather than by natural means.

This distinction as the pinnacle of creation is borne out the reference in Genesis to man’s God-given authority over all other creatures.

In summary, any careful reader of Genesis is left to wonder how the biblical account is so remarkably consistent with the discoveries of modern cosmology. The only plausible explanation for this unique accuracy in such a primitive record is divine inspiration.

The Pearl Trader’s Dream

In Christ's parable of the pearl of great price (Matthew 13:45-46, perhaps His shortest spiritual illustration), He describes an avid merchant. For this man, trading precious stones not a hobby, it's a livelihood. We can also understand that his greatest ambition is to discover that once-in-a-lifetime treasure, the pearl of great price. One important point to make is that, unlike other gems, the value of a pearl can’t be substantially improved upon by human effort.

As an aside, Jesus also had a lot to say about treasure. For instance, 'lay not up for yourselves treasure on earth which moth doth corrupt and thieves break in and do steal' (Matt. 6:19). Treasure is a store, reserve or fund. Of course, God wants us to be free from daily worries over our bodily need for warmth and nourishment. However, the build-up of material reserves for ourselves beyond our daily requirements is conducted at the expense of the more pressing needs of others, who may be stricken by calamity, or sickness. It's all too easy to accuse the afflicted of improvidence, saying, 'it's not my fault that they didn't they take out a bigger, better insurance policy' (as if only guilt, rather than love, justifies ending selfish behaviour).

Accumulating funds for long-term individual financial stability is similar to the Israelites who tried to store up the manna from one day, just in case God might neglect to provide for the next. The behaviour smacks of distrust in His providence and no fund (however large and well-managed) is ever safe from erosion, devaluation or dispossession.

Even relationships can be corroded over time. A young love, that starts out as fresh and exciting, can lose its appeal through neglect, beginning a vicious spiral of serial monogamy, or worse still, thoughtless promiscuity.

Back to our merchant and one day he chances upon a most extraordinary find: a single perfectly spherical pearl with astounding blemish-free lustre and massive carat weight. He wants it.

After considerable negotiation with the owner, he realises that his trade account cannot nearly meet the agreed purchase price. He's haggled as far as he can, and yet this bargain will cost more than he has in cash and securities.

Then he has an idea: liquidate everything. 'what if I also sold you my whole collection, everything I've examined and amassed over my 40-year jewellery career?' Under tight security, he fetches his precious assets to be valued and waits for the verdict...still short by hundreds of thousands.

Desperately, he asks, 'But what if I sell my house and its contents?'... 'still not enough.' the owner replies...'Clear my emergency fund?'…'Maybe?'

The owner adds it all up and finally delivers the good news. The merchant beams with satisfaction, though stripped of his worldly possessions, he has what it takes. The precious pearl is his forever.
Later that day, another gemologist examines the pearl asking 'How much did you say you paid him?’ The anxious merchant tells him the figure, his heart sinking at the thought that he's been sold a dud. 
The feeling is short-lived. 'Well, it's quite frankly the best in the world, it's unique and worth millions more than you gave up for it...is the pearl’s former owner a best friend, or something?!''

Christ used the parable to describe the eternal Kingdom of God. Salvation may be freely given by the Owner, but it's not void of personal sacrifice. Paul, in response to God's forgiveness of his former life (that included persecuting Christians), realised he had to abandon the comfort and privileges of his Jewish roots in order to fully embrace his Christian calling. He describes what happened, ‘But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ’ (Philippians 3: 7,8)

So which aspects of my current lifestyle are on the auction block in order to win Christ? How many of those things relegate an all-consuming passion for Christ to second place or worse? What legitimate pursuits will you or I, like Paul, abandon to gain Christ?
'For where your treasure is, there shall your heart be also'  (Matt.6:21)

Rest for the weary

Moses reminded the Israelites that the one God, who liberated them from impoverishment and thereby owned them, was the Origin of all things. Paul says, ‘Through faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God, so that things which are seen were not made of things which do appear’ (Heb. 11:3) All existence was created by God out of nothingness.

Creation is the first act of divine providence, building a universe filled with awe and wonder (see Psalm 19). Let’s be clear: There is no discussion of the time span between verses 1 and 2 of Genesis 1. Some creationists refer to Isaiah 40:22: ‘He stretches out the heavens like a canopy, and spreads them out like a tent to live in.’ The stretching of space is considered by some as the ultimate display of omnipotence in controlling relativity: He who can make the sun stand still, can accelerate time on earth, completing creation in seven days and dilate time elsewhere. ‘With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day.’ (2 Pet. 3:8) (see Dr. John Hartnett: Starlight, Time and the New Physics)

What we do know is that God enjoyed the reward of His completed creation. He called on Israel to do the same in imitation and acknowledgement that they owed God (as we do) the fruit of their labours.

In the Old Testament, the keeping of the Sabbath was enforced rigorously: (Num. 15:32 – 36). Of course, there were offerings for unintended personal errors, but, if Israel was to fulfil its singular mission as the medium of God’s salvation to the world, open, flagrant rebellion had to be put down immediately.

In the New Testament, Jesus demonstrated that Sabbath-keeping could easily descend into a ritualised externalism that contradicts the immediate, internal promptings of practical love from the Holy Spirit. Paul considered its observance discretionary: ‘One man considers one day more sacred than another; another man considers every day alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind.’ (Rom. 14:5). In other words, empowerment by the Holy Spirit should inform individual consciences and allow for a level of discretion that the Old Testament didn’t. Paul was sure that all Old Testament externalisms had been cancelled on Christ’s gibbet of crucifixion. ‘Therefore do not let anyone judge you by what you eat or drink, or with regard to a religious festival, a New Moon celebration or a Sabbath day.’ (Col. 2:16)

So what rest is there for the Christian? After all, there is nothing quite so frustrating as pointless effort. You can walk through a busy city seeing hundreds of purposeful citizens rushing to and fro, but what if their pay or working conditions didn’t measure up to the efforts they expended?  They would soon lose motivation.

This is no less true of Christian endeavours, but it doesn’t come down to financial rewards. Relentless labour and material accumulation for its own sake always ends in dissatisfaction. There are eleven instances in which the writer of Ecclesiastes refers to this focus on ‘things under the sun’ or temporal pursuits as ‘vanity and vexation of spirit’. As humans, we need relationships and assurances that transcend material transactions and stand the test of time.

Paul elevates the idea of Christian rest beyond the Old Testament promises. In Hebrews 3 and 4, he explains that the unbelieving Israelites were condemned to die in the wilderness for their unbelief. They missed out on the rest provided in the Promised Land. Let’s be clear, God didn’t demand blind faith. These people had seen God’s mighty acts of deliverance from Egypt, but, at the first hint of hardship, they still accused God of, at least, indifference, if not pleasure in seeing their frailty : ‘Why did you bring us up out of Egypt to make us and our children and livestock die of thirst?’ (Ex. 17:3). They could have chanted, ‘We know that the God we serve can do anything, He gives us manna from heaven. He can turn this desert into an oasis. Is anything too difficult for Him?’ But they didn’t.

David recounts this incident in Psalm 95 as a warning to us. ‘Now all these things happened unto them for ensamples: and they are written for our admonition, upon whom the ends of the world are come’ (1 Cor. 10:11)

The verdict upon the ungrateful was then as it is now: ‘They are a people whose hearts go astray, and they have not known my ways.’ (Ps. 95:10). They would never understand how divine power always exposes human frailty before intervening in loving mercy, that God will not share credit for His accomplishments with anyone. Indeed, He declares unequivocally that ‘no flesh shall glory in my presence’ (1 Cor. 1:29). God’s strength and human weakness are a perfect match.

In the same psalm, God declares another rest, a rewarding conclusion to the outworking of redemption beyond the land promised to Abraham’s descendants. ‘There remains, then, a Sabbath-rest for the people of God; for anyone who enters God's rest also rests from his own work, just as God did from his.’ (Heb. 4:9,10)

Scripture reassures us on countless occasions of this ultimate reward that can’t be measured in human terms: the goal of a life devoted to God. For example, Paul reminds ‘Let us not be weary in well doing, for in due time we shall reap if we faint not’ (Gal. 6:9)

‘To those, who by patient continuance in well doing seek for glory, honour and immortality, eternal life’ (Rom. 2:7)

We are also encouraged to look away from temporal distractions and focus attention upon the eternal goal. As Paul said, ‘So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal’. (2 Cor. 4:18) We should all be discussing the book of Revelations every week to understand our sacred inheritance: ‘but in keeping with his promise we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth, the home of righteousness.’ (2 Pet. 3:13)

Consider the hardships that Paul endured in spreading the good news that Jesus of Nazareth was the Messiah of God’s final and eternal restoration of the universe: ‘Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open sea,…’ (2 Cor. 11:25). Yet, for all this, he also explains, ‘For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.’ (2 Cor. 4:17). He reminds the Corinthians of Isaiah’s prophecy, ‘However, as it is written: "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him"-- but God has revealed it to us by his Spirit. The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God.’ (1 Cor. 2:9,10)

What Paul saw in his visions of the omnipotent God united with humanity in the ascended Messiah and in the final victory of His people was so astounding that he needed a counterbalancing affliction to keep his pride in check. (2 Cor. 12:7) If you spend a few nights reading the book of Revelations, you’ll get some idea of what the apostles saw in the Spirit. It gave them a different perspective on their troubles. It gave them insight. Indeed, we are guaranteed this same level of insight in our single-minded pursuit of the kingdom of God: ‘If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him.’ (James 1:5)

This unseen future for which we labour on earth, our Promised Land, is our steadfast hope when all earthly hopes are removed. Without it, for all of the comforts of our daily lives, we are reminded that ‘if we have hope in this life alone, we are of all men most miserable.’ (1 Cor. 15:19).

‘For here we do not have an enduring city, but we are looking for the city that is to come’ (Heb. 13:14), ‘…a city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God.’ (Heb. 11:10).

Instead of a worldly empire of social equality, this city, the New Jerusalem is surely the eternal rest for which we toil in this world.

Anointed in waiting

This post serves as a word of encouragement to every  zealous Christian who languishes in Church limbo. Compared to many others, you may feel a stronger sense of your calling and responsibility. The Holy Spirit will empower willing hearts and won’t wait for church elders to finally recognise commitment. This is, especially, if the pulpit privilege only peddled out for prestige. It is unfortunate that many people still use it to win their ‘pillar of the community’ endorsement.

You may even work within the church in a limited way, but as you consider the greatness of God and His mission in Christ, you want to do more in his service. The only problem is that, in spite of your commitment and gifts, you may still find yourself sidestepped by church leadership.

I would like you to consider two Old Testament characters, Joseph and David. There are many more such examples, but I believe that these are the most appropriate to the subject.

1. Don’t be sidetracked by self pity

Joseph was a long way from home, sold into slavery by jealous brothers. He could have lapsed into self-pity, abdicating every responsibility that came his way. He didn’t forget his hopes, but he turned tough circumstances into opportunities.

Equally, David became a target of Saul’s jealousy. Yet there were still many unorthodox opportunities for courageous endeavour, even if the King could only view them with jealous disdain.

2. Hone your talents wherever you are

Joseph found himself in Egypt surrounded by heathens. It might have been easy for him to lapse into idolatry, to abandon his dreams as empty musings and to neglect his talent for leadership. First as a slave and then in prison, on a downward career spiral, he developed his leadership on a smaller scale, shared his prophetic gift and demonstrated to those in charge that he was reliable.

David honed his slingshot precision as a young shepherd guarding his father’s sheep. It was said  that the best Israelite slingshot warriors could hit a small target at great distances. He learned, as we should, to stay calm, fearless and accurate when the wolves attack.

3. Apply your talents to unorthodox small scale endeavours and strategise laterally

David’s unorthodox combat experience with the sling meant he was fully prepared to deploy an unexpected asymmetrical assault against Goliath’s chief vulnerability: his size. He used lateral thinking to opt for manoeuvrability and lethal long-distance precision over close-quarters combat and won.

Instead of striving for pulpit visibility, think laterally. Work with individuals and organise small groups, encourage critical thinking and articulate your religious views in on-line discussion forums. Develop unorthodox methods to deliver calm, respectful, deliberate and rigorous reasoning. These are the qualities that characterise the best preachers and teachers. Work with non-religious organisations, e.g. hospitals, schools and prisons, where the staff and residents may only pay lip service to institutional religion any way. They will respect you more. Remember that David fought with the Philistines in exile for several years before returning to Israel.

4. Satan will use familial contempt and unintended offence against established authority to thwart your progress

David didn’t mean for his victory to arouse jealousy. His brothers had accused him of the worst motives for visiting the Philistine battlefront. The Israelite war chant, ‘Saul has slain his thousands, but David his tens of thousands’ (1 Sam 18:7) also placed him on a collision course with the King’s ego.

Joseph was similarly mistreated by his siblings. Potiphar’s wife expected sexual privileges and when none were forthcoming, she made an indecency allegation against him.

5. Take on unorthodox challenges that the orthodox churches balk at and use fearlessness and faith to seize the moment

While the rest of Israel reeled at the Philistine taunts, David seized the opportunity for God. David bypassed the normal, plodding military combat methods. His courage fast-tracked him into ‘special forces’ leaving his career soldier brothers behind. God is looking for dedicated, courageous spirituality to challenge the materialism, immorality and intellectual contempt of today’s society.

Joseph’s gift of prophecy was lost on his brothers. The dreams spoke to them more about a complete undermining of the elder status that they abused, rather than his role as an instrument of their eventual deliverance. Eventually, through a career of insight and leadership, many heathens found him to be a trusted source of inspiration. He continued to excel in exile as a leader and when the opportunity finally came, he seized it to influence Pharoah for the good of others. It must have taken faith to build and fill grain silos for seven years, rather than trade it for gold. Of course, gold is not much use in famine.

6. You will be vindicated, but not before you are humbled enough to embrace the forbearance that comes with maturity

David was eventually crowned King long after his anointing by the prophet Samuel. He was now mature enough in forbearance to be truly saddened by Saul’s demise.

Joseph’s dream also came true, but by that time, he was disguised by age and the robes of Egyptian high office. He was completely unrecognisable to his humbled brothers. By then he had grown enough to say to them ‘As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today.’ (Gen. 50:20)

Importantly, both Joseph and David eventually learned to see the reflection of their own failures in the prideful mistakes of others. It made them the compassionate leaders that God wanted.

Assisted suicide

‘But a Samaritan, as he travelled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him.’(Luke 10:33)

In several countries, there is a legal duty of rescue imposed on anyone who fails to help someone escape from further peril. The most famous case of this kind in recent memory was the investigation of the photographers at the scene of Princess Diana’s car accident. The crime of "non-assistance à personne en danger" (deliberately failing to provide assistance to a person in danger) is punishable by up to 5 years in jail and a fine of up to €100,000. There are similar laws in the US and other EU member countries.

Members of the medical profession also have a general duty to rescue the public within the scope of their employment. Significantly, Americans refer to these as Good Samaritan laws.

Even where there is no legal requirement, the parable demonstrates that we all have an ethical duty of rescue.

When we consider suicide, we should realise that it is an act of desperation. Even if a person who decides to take their own life appears calm, rational and lucid, you may still consider their circumstances unique and desperate. We can also never know the extent to which they may be subtly persuaded to avoid further burden to family or society.

Those who favour assisted suicide are essentially proposing two fundamental challenges to the ethical principles that I’ve outlined so far.

1) That suicide is not only permissible by law, but that aiding a person in the commission of suicide is not a crime. Individuals, including medical staff, will no longer have a duty of rescue towards a person who calmly and rationally decides to commit suicide, but just doesn’t have the means. Apparently, the duty of rescue has now been perverted into a duty to despatch that person, once they formally indicate that life has become intolerable. Suicide counselling will eventually involve discussing the patient’s ‘termination alternatives’.

2) That suicide is not only a liberty right, simply permission to do something. They believe it is a claim right: that it imposes a consequent obligation on society to perform it on behalf of an incapacitated individual.

Of course, that claim, if accepted, will place society into an ethical quandary: whether the new duty of care to assist suicide trumps the duty of rescue to prevent it.

If suicide is seen by its proponents as a right, why should they suddenly stop at terminal patients. Why shouldn’t they extend it to a general right of all responsible citizens. Also, what constitutes incapacity? Is it simply that the person is too physically weak to despatch themselves properly, or that they lack the know-how and emotional composure.

Advocates also challenge the moral concept regarding the sanctity and dignity of life. Sanctity simply means ‘set apart’ or dedicated to a higher purpose. The dignity of life is a universal and precious attribute of all humanity. However impoverished we are by suffering, life is a gift from God. In learning through suffering God’s higher purpose, we discover our true worth. Indeed, Christians believe that tribulation is part of God’s redemptive purpose. "If we have received good from the Lord, shall we not receive evil?" (Job 2:10)

‘Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance’ (Rom. 5:3)

Of his impending brutal ordeal, Jesus said, ‘the cup which my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it?’ (John 18:11)

We would also have to consider whether the Christian tradition in desperate situations is to confront extreme harm, or escape through suicide. Even a cursory review of Fox’s Book of Martyrs would indicate that the Christian tradition is to demonstrate the power of God’s love by enduring, rather than running away from our afflictions. Of course, this doesn’t mean we abdicate from showing practical compassion towards those in need.

Dr. David Rabin died in 1984, after a five year battle with Lou Gehrig’s disease. This condition causes gradual paralysis to a point where the patient can no longer write, nor speak. David lost control of every muscle group in his body, except his eyebrows.

A colleague told him of a computer that could be operated by a switch connected to one muscle group. He used that computer to talk to family, tell jokes and write award-winning medical papers. At no point in the disease’s progression, did he indicate that his life lacked dignity.

Suicide is, in essence, a wilful abdication from this life and its burdens. Though tragic, it is a total evasion of responsibility for the investment that society makes in the individual. To then think that the society so abandoned should also carry the weight of responsibility for despatching that person is the height of irresponsibility.

Leaving for home

My father’s spirit passed into the presence of God last week. He had battled cancer for over seven years, but succumbed at 77. The calm, serene man whom I re-discovered after 18 years of estrangement was a far cry from the stern, forbidding disciplinarian that I grew up with.

A harsh approach typified my early interaction with my Dad. Perhaps, he was simply mirroring his own father’s behaviour. Whatever the reason, his parental skills were characterised by the adage, ‘spare the rod and spoil the child’. There were countless instances of ‘applying the rod of correction to the seat of understanding’.

I am sure that there were many times when I deserved chastisement, so let me be clear: I’m not advocating a wholesale rejection of parental discipline.

My father re-married and although I tried to maintain contact, it became increasingly obvious that I was the outsider.

I got on with my life and converted from an aimless life to Christ at 20. I got married and took comfort in the knowledge that, by God’s grace, my daughters would enjoy a loving father.

In my conversion experience, I felt immersed in a deep reassurance of God’s fatherly love: a Father who relinquished His most cherished possession, His Son, to become the object of His wrath against our sins on our behalf. I still tried to ignore the nagging fears of abandonment. Although God had done His part in bestowing amnesty, the show of gratitude seemed to be up to me. I struggled to believe that dedication to God was as much of a gift as my conversion. Yet Paul stresses the contrary, ‘He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all - how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?’ (Romans 8:32). Again, challenging a return to ritual and self-discipline in order to advance their spirituality, he asks the Galatians, ‘Are you so foolish? After beginning with the Spirit, are you now trying to attain your goal by human effort?’ (Gal. 3:3)

Over many years, I began to think that some relationships could never be healed. So I thankfully acknowledge the efforts of my Mum, who called my half-brother and passed on my Dad’s London phone number. She had heard that he had returned to the UK for cancer treatment.

Although it wasn't easy at first, we began to build up a bank of new memories. In bereavement, I hold them all up as precious jewels of experience.

For instance, I remember taking my Dad to Brighton earlier this year with my brothers. We had a wonderful time, although we cut the visit short because of Dad’s discomfort in the hot weather. He was trying to sit up on the seafront bench and the planks began to dig into his frail ribcage. I ran over to the Cargo Store and bought him a cushion to sit on: I relished another chance to love my Dad. He made a point of thanking me in a way that melted past pain and fears. We were and still are reconciled. And God has persuaded me to yield to the in-working of His Spirit, rather than trying to prove my worth to Him.

So, a few hours before my Dad died last week, I held his hand. He was beyond speech, but the nurse reassured me that hearing would be the last of his senses to go. I reminded him of how precious he was, that I wouldn’t forsake our pact to believe God for a miracle unless he chose to be with the Lord. I told him that I loved him so much and that I would take care of my brothers. A few hours later, Erskine Earl Shepherd, a man of God and my father passed, not away, but above.

I hope you can understand what Christ meant when he declared, ‘Blessed are the peace-makers, for they shall be called sons of God’ (Matt. 5:9)

Far more can be gained from reconciliation, than maintaining estrangement. So if your life is characterised by reconciliation overcoming lasting resentment, you have reason to rejoice. In the family of God, it’s the defining trait.

Half-hearted hospitality

In poker, a ‘tell’ is a subtle, but noticeable change in a player’s behaviour. A flushed face, or an unconscious attempt to hide cards may indicate a strong hand. A brash, vocal exchange may be used to hide a weak hand.

Christ was a master of interpreting spiritual ‘tells’. He could say on first meeting the guileless Nathanael: ‘Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no deceit!’ (John 1:47). Nathaniel had a reachable spirit, unencumbered with those layers of self-deceit that justify the status quo in our lives.

This is borne out by the ensuing conversation: Nathanael said to Him, “How do you know me?”. The answer: ‘Before Philip called you, when you were under the fig tree, I saw you.’ astounds Nathanael to the point of declaring Jesus to be the Son of God!

The same can be said of the Samaritan woman at the well: ‘Come, see a man, which told me all things that ever I did: is not this the Christ?’ (John 4:29)

In each case, the spirit was open and reachable: seeing no reason not to accept Christ at face value. They subject Him to no more reasonable scrutiny than elsewhere in their lives.

In contrast, although several Jews accepted the miracles, they lacked complete emotional engagement and asked for a sign from the sky. They only went as far as to accept Him as an exceptional prophet, but no more. They wore a mental straitjacket that blunted His impact on their resolve. For this reason, John records of Christ, ‘But Jesus on his part did not entrust himself to them, because he knew all people and needed no one to bear witness about man, for he himself knew what was in man’ (John 2:24,25).

Imagine having to admit, ‘I could have gained more insight into God’s love, compassion and authority, but Jesus doesn’t trust me because I have spiritual commitment issues’. Their acknowledgement was half-hearted, lacking complete emotional surrender. Sadly,they were not part of his inner circle: He did not entrust himself to them.

‘For the one who doubts is like the surf of the sea, driven and tossed by the wind. For that man ought not to expect that he will receive anything from the Lord, being a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways. (James 1: 6-8)

As for the ‘tell’ that disguises this ambivalence, consider Simon the Leper. He extends as much measured hospitality towards Jesus as you would expect at a Middle East peace summit. Only enough as to prevent offence. Christ contrasts his sceptical reluctance with the emotional gratitude of the forgiven prostitute: ‘Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—for she loved much. But he who has been forgiven little loves little.’ (Luke 7:44)

This feast is a turning point. Judas openly criticizes the extravagant waste of costly perfume. He now realizes that the mission is more about Jesus himself, than some immediate social or political agenda against injustice and poverty. His disappointment will turn to lethal hostility in a few days.

So what do Abraham, Lot, Rahab the harlot, the widow of Zarepta and Dorcas have in common? They all demonstrated exceptional practical kindness towards the saints: those who publicly side and work with God against the spirit of the age.

To extend the warmth of human comfort towards those commended to us by their loyalty to God: ‘Men that have hazarded their lives for the name of our Lord Jesus Christ’ (Acts. 15:26) is ample demonstration of our faith.

‘That’s how it is with God’s love,

Once you’ve experienced it,

It’s fresh like Spring, you want to sing,

You want to pass it on’

As Paul said after stern words: ‘Even though we speak like this, dear friends, we are confident of better things in your case - things that accompany salvation’ (Heb. 6:9)

The reason for Paul’s confidence is in the next verse: ‘God is not unjust; he will not forget your work and the love you have shown him as you have helped his people and continue to help them.’ (vs. 10). In practical faith, they had despatched disaster relief through the apostles to alleviate suffering during the famine predicted by Agabus, the Jewish prophet (Acts 11:28)

‘No washing my feet,

No oil for my head,

No tears for Christ’s brethren,

Such cold faith is DEAD!’

May Jesus reveal the ‘tells’ of dead faith. May He rouse us all to a lively commitment in showing genuine hospitality, alleviating hardship among his brethren in these difficult times!

I want to ask any who read this to feel free to drop me an e-mail whereby we can begin to share your burden, be it financial or otherwise. It’s time for me to pay God’s love forward.