Christians and stress (part 2)

Image by Ryan McGuire from Pixabay 

Dealing with stress

Relaxation techniques, attention to diet and exercise, time-management strategies, voluntary simplicity and community building are all valid and useful ways of reducing the stress in our lives. However, as Christians we must also deal with two underlying issues—fear and lack of focus.

Fear

So much of our busy-ness and sense of overload is due to fear; fear of failure, fear of being rejected, fear of loss, fear of illness and death, fear of losing control. Yet often we don't even recognise the fears that drive us. 

Both Christians and non-Christians may be driven by a subconscious fear of God. In the unbeliever this could even be a positive drive. In a Christian, it can only be due to an inadequate grasp of what salvation means. God may call us to be busy for him, but busy-ness can easily become our own attempt to win God's favour, if we don't understand that we are totally forgiven and accepted already. Jesus has completed that task, with nothing for us to add.

The key to overcoming all of these fears is to know what scripture says about them—really know, with our hearts as well as our heads. We can only do this by reading the bible consistently and prayerfully. Then we need to put what we have read into practice, as a conscious act of will. "God is my salvation, I WILL trust and WILL NOT be afraid, (my emphasis). 

Freedom from fear is not something we are likely to achieve in an instant.  Each time we become fearful again, we need to recognise it, ask for forgiveness and grace, then begin afresh. Other Christians are an invaluable and God-given source of encouragement in this.

Focus

Lack of focus in our lives results in us being pulled this way and that by competing demands and desires. We may have many different goals, all of them apparently good, but often quite contradictory. For instance, “I must spend more time with my family” and “I must work as hard as I can to get the promotion I deserve”. As a result we begin to feel fragmented.

Christians are not immune from this. Often we simply add a few spiritual goals to the rest rather than refocusing our lives.

Fear and lack of focus are obviously related. If I fear something (or someone) one of my goals will be to avoid or overcome the thing I fear. If I have many fears, I will have many different goals, and my mental, physical and emotional energies will be scattered in all directions. 

Jesus had focus

Jesus had only one focus in life; the kingdom of God, for the glory of God. He called his followers to be equally single-minded. "Seek first (God's) kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things (i.e. material needs) will be given you as well", (Matthew 6.33).

"Yes, but Jesus didn't have a job, or mortgage, or a family to worry about. He could afford to be single minded," we might reply. I don't think Jesus was calling us to abandon these things (though sometimes he does.) Rather, we are to look at them all in the light of the kingdom of God. 

The work we do is to contribute to building God's kingdom, whether we preach sermons, design cars or wash dishes. Our house is to be a part of God's kingdom, received with thanks, used for his service and given up if he asks that of us. Our children are to be raised for God's kingdom, not by brow-beating them, but by drawing them into it. If they choose to go another way, our focus is still to be God's kingdom. 

Our hobbies, our clothes, our friendships, our money, our possessions, our relationship with our in-laws, our health, all are to be seen in the light of God's kingdom.

When we look at Jesus' life, as described in the gospels, we can see the effects of being focused. Jesus had compassion on the crowds who followed him about, and healed many who were sick. Yet at times he would walk away from them in order to pray or teach his disciples. He was not driven by a need to be popular, or to (literally) cure all the world's ills. 

Jesus did not try to do everything himself. He taught his disciples, then sent them out in pairs to teach and heal. He shared his concerns with them. He entrusted the future church to them. He was not driven by the need to keep power to himself or to appear super-human.

Jesus had no hesitation in openly criticising or correcting those who were straying from the truth. He continued his ministry despite the growing opposition of the authorities. Fear of man did not come between him and his goal of bringing about the kingdom of God.

In prayer Jesus maintained the same focus. "Father, may your name be hallowed, may your kingdom come, may your will be done," (Matthew 6:9). The needs of the day followed on from this, not as though they were trivial, but placed in their true context. "Give us this day our daily bread." Through prayer, Jesus received the strength and direction he needed to stay focused.

Jesus certainly didn't live a gentle, stress-free life. He experienced tiredness, grief, pressure from the crowds, misunderstanding from his disciples, harassment from the religious authorities and ultimately betrayal, torture and death. Yet always he seemed to be in control, steady in his purpose and sure of where he was going. His resurrection is our assurance that in the end he reached his goal.

Being focused in this way, while it may seem difficult at first sight (and impossible without the help of the Holy Spirit) would surely enable us to simplify our lives and overcome the fragmentation we so often experience.

Perhaps that is what Jesus meant when he said "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Matthew 11.28-30.)

(Part 1 can be found here)

Faith in Crisis - free ebook to download

I've recently put together some of the articles from this blog and my archives that seem relevant to the present times. They cover topics such as faith, trust, doubt, disasters and questions about God's goodness.

The result is 'Faith in Crisis', a small eBook in PDF format that's free to download from my website. I hope and pray that it will be an encouragement to you.




UPDATE

I've now added a second eBook, Hope in Sorrow, which is made up of longer articles on grief, depression, stress and death. You can download it free from my website.

Holding on to faith

Most of us have probably wondered at some stage whether we can really go on being a Christian until the end of our lives. Our faith seems so weak and wobbly at times.

Perhaps we’ve struggled with doubts about certain doctrines, or felt puzzled and disturbed by something we've read in the Bible. Maybe we’ve tried to share the gospel with others and found ourselves flummoxed by their questions or their negative response.

Or perhaps we’re disheartened by our own lack of discipline in Bible reading, prayer and service. We determine to do better, but soon we get distracted by other things. Some distractions we have no control over, like illness in the family, but sometimes we’re way-laid by trivia. We begin to fear that we’re back-sliding so fast that soon we’ll be unable to hold on to our faith.

Christians in many parts of the world face much harsher threats to their faith. Their fear is that they may denounce Christ under torture, or hide their faith in order not to lose their livelihood. In comparison, our fears seem pathetic. But they are real, nevertheless. We’ve all met people who once were Christians, who now disclaim their faith. We don’t want to become like them.

The fact that we do fear losing our faith is actually reassuring. It’s a sign that the Spirit is still at work within us, otherwise why would we care? But how will we remain faithful?

It’s humbling, yet also heartening, to realise that in the end we remain in Christ because he who called us, and gave us faith to believe in him in the first place, continues to call us and give us faith. He gives us the faith to read, to understand, to pray, to act. He holds onto us when our thoughts are scattered or dreadful, when our reading and praying seem hollow, when we’re weary of doing good. (Phil 1:6)

And he provides faithful people around us to pray for us, and encourage us to keep going. The greatest prayer we can pray for another Christian is “Lord, preserve their faith”.

After the storm

After forty days Noah opened a window he had made in the ark and sent out a raven, and it kept flying back and forth until the water had dried up from the earth. (Genesis 8:6)

When we’re in the middle of a crisis, all we want is for it to come to an end. Each day we look for signs that it might soon be over. We long for life to return to normal.

Once the crisis is over, many things do return to normal. We may live in the same place, work at the same job, be surrounded by the same people as before. But even if nothing else has changed, we ourselves are likely to have changed as a result of what we have been through.

We may also find that our relationship with God is different to what it once was. Though we were aware of his presence with us during the crisis, and still draw comfort and strength from him, our established rituals, habits and patterns of thought have been disrupted by our experience. What once seemed important may no longer seem to matter. What once seemed simple and clear cut may now seem more complex.

Some people find this confusing, even alarming. They fear that they may be losing their faith. Yet in fact their faith and trust in God is deeper than it was before they went through a crisis. If you find yourself in this situation, give yourself time to readjust, and allow God to speak to you in and through your new circumstances. Rather than struggling to go back to where you once were, be obedient where you are now, and allow God to lead you to where he wants you to be.

Chosen in Christ

You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you might go and bear fruit—fruit that will last—and so that whatever you ask in my name the Father will give you. John 15:16 (NIV)

Image by Ged Carroll via Flickr

Jesus taught his disciples many things in the three years that he was with them. But when he spoke to them for the final time before his death, we can be sure that he didn’t waste words. What he told them over supper in that upstairs room was of utmost importance. And one of the things that he really wanted them to know was that they did not choose him, but he chose them.

Why was that? Three possible reasons come to mind. First, he wanted to ensure that the disciples would never become arrogant about their position. They would never come to believe that God owed them something for having dedicated their lives to him. They were disciples by his choice, not theirs.

Second, he wanted to avoid becoming a commodity or package, something the disciples would sell to others as ‘a good choice in life’. The person who is called by Christ does not make ‘a decision for Christ’ in order to get the spiritual goods. They are already chosen and can only humbly submit to him as Lord. The disciples were called to bear witness to Christ, not to sell Christianity.

Thirdly, he wanted to give the disciples reassurance in those times when they were tempted to believe that they were not committed enough, not dedicated enough, and therefore not acceptable to God. Peter was about to deny Jesus. Thomas would doubt him. All would abandon him. But that didn’t negate the bond between the disciples and Jesus, because he had chosen them. If it was by their own choice that they followed him, their failure could suggest that they had not been sincere enough in their decision. But if he had chosen them, they were secure. 

That is not to say that following Christ doesn't involve a striving to become a better disciple. But knowing that we are Christ's by his choice, not ours, sets us free from constantly questioning our level of commitment based on our performance. We will avoid the trap of frequently dissecting our past motivation while grimly trying to improve on the commitment we made last week, last month, last year. 

When we fall down, it is our reliance on Christ, not our resolution to follow him, that we need to review. "Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you." is commitment. (Matthew 26:35) "Now, Lord, consider their threats and enable your servants to speak your word with great boldness." is reliance on Christ. (Acts 4:29) We are his, he has chosen us, and he is committed to seeing us bear lasting fruit.

Don't be alarmed

People have been predicting the imminent end of the world and Jesus' second coming since his ascension. Some of these predictions have been based on supposed prophetic visions or dreams. Others have focused on auspicious dates such as the years 500, 1000  and 2000 AD. Calculations based on the book of Revelation have produced a wide range of dates, most of which have already passed by uneventfully.

Cataclysmic events such as the sacking of Rome (410 AD), the bubonic plague  in 1347-53, and the wars of 1914 and 1939 have also prompted people to  predict the imminent end of the world. Anxiety being created today by various crises internationally is likely to lead to a rise in end-of-the-world forecasts.

The Bible restrains us from making such predictions or becoming anxious about them. For one thing, it provides a record of wars, famines, plagues and disasters spanning over 2000 years. Whatever dreadful thing is happening in our world today, we can be sure to find something similar in the history described in its pages. "There is nothing new under the sun" (Ecc. 1:9). In all these events, God remains sovereign.

Secondly, we have Jesus' words in Matthew 24:6-8 "You will hear of wars and rumours of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come. Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be famines and earthquakes in various places.  All these are the beginning of birth-pains." What midwives call "practice contractions" in other words.

Jesus assures us that when the end does come and he returns it will be both sudden and obvious. In the meantime may our response to what is happening in the world be compassion and prayer for those affected, trust and steadfastness in our own situation.

Image: by tarotastic / photo on flickr

If you had been here - Martha's lament

Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died" (John 11:21)

The raising of Lazarus
by Duccio di Buoninsegna

Unless you are reading this story for the first time, you already know the outcome. Lazarus has died, and his sisters Mary and Martha have called for Jesus. When he eventually arrives, Jesus tells Martha that her brother Lazarus will rise again. Martha responds "I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day." After assuring Martha that he is the resurrection and the life, Jesus asks Martha if she believes that whoever believes in him will never die. Her answer? "I believe that you are the Messiah, the son of God".

So Martha's initial words "Lord, if you had been here my brother would not have died" can simply be read as a statement of faith: "I know that you can heal the dying." After all, she goes on to add "I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask." (11.22) Martha expresses a faith in Jesus that is more than justified when Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead.

But let's look back at the situation before Jesus' arrival, from Martha's point of view. Her brother Lazarus becomes ill and is obviously dying. She and Mary are desperate - not only do they love Lazarus, but the prospects for two unmarried women with no male family support are grim.

They hear that Jesus is not far away and send a message "Lord, he whom you love is ill". They have been friends of Jesus for some time, they have lovingly ministered to him and believe that he cares about them. They have also seen and heard enough about what Jesus has done amongst the sick and dying to believe that he will surely be able to do something for Lazarus.

Not-so-simple questions about the Old Testament (Reading the Old Testament part 6)

Asking “who, what, when” questions can be very helpful in understanding the Old Testament. But what about the “difficult” passages – the ones you hope your unbelieving friends won’t read (but they inevitably do, and then want you to explain why you would want them to read such a barbaric, sexist, racist book.) I’m thinking of texts such as Deuteronomy 20:10-18, Numbers 5:11-31, Judges 19, etc

The usual response to such questions is to attempt to explain away the difficulties those passages pose by appealing to cultural differences, poor translation of the text and/or the overwhelming sovereignty of God. Although many commentators frustratingly gloss over the difficulties, there are lots of books on the market that valiantly tackle them.

Some explanations are helpful. Others border on being rationalisations, or seem barely more acceptable than the passages they seek to explain. Many are just as culturally bound to the author’s time as the original texts were to theirs.

I’d like to suggest a different approach, one that doesn’t attempt to squeeze the Old Testament into our own comfort zone.

First, we need to recognise that there is nothing new about finding parts of the Old Testament objectionable. The Gnostic Bishop Marcion in the second century was so appalled by the Old Testament that he produced his own version of the Bible which excluded it (along with large chunks of the New Testament.) He was condemned as a heretic for his views, but he still had an audience.

Augustine of Hippo, who lived in the 4th century, was brought up in a Christian family. But as a young adult he dismissed the Old Testament as crude and barbaric compared to the writings of people like Cicero and the Manicheans. He later became one of the greatest theologians, and came to terms with the Old Testament. So Christianity hasn’t fallen apart because of these difficult passages, despite generations of struggling with them.

Second, we need to recognise that the Bible often leaves us to draw our own conclusions about the “rightness or wrongness” of a story. The fact that something happens in the Bible without comment doesn’t mean that it is therefore approved as God’s will. It could just as well be an example of human depravity. Wisdom is required.

Third, and more importantly, we have to deal with Jesus’ attitude towards the Old Testament. Most of our ‘modern’ objections to the apparent sexism, racism etc of the Old Testament are actually based on Jesus’ own teaching about loving our enemies, and Jesus’ example of treating all people with compassion and respect for their dignity. It would be ironic if we rejected the Old Testament while using the teaching of the one who inspired its writers and who appealed to it so often.

I'm not suggesting that Jesus  openly commended the passages we find so difficult. He didn't quote them or even allude to them as far as I'm aware. He sometimes added his own teaching to the words of scripture: “You have heard it said…but I say to you…”

But nowhere did he condemn the scriptures (the Old Testament of our Bible), though he often condemned its misuse (Matthew 23:4). He said that he had not come to abolish the Law but to fulfill it. (Matthew 5:17) He told his disciples that the Law, the Prophets and the Psalms spoke about him (Luke 24:41). We don’t have a mandate from Jesus to dump the Old Testament.

To be honest, I don’t know what to make of this in terms of how we should read the 'difficult' texts. But it says to me that if Jesus could live with the Old Testament as it was written, not as we’d like it to be, we should also be willing to live with it, even if we can’t explain everything in it. Jesus lived with the brutality and sexism and discrimination of the world around him, not accepting it, but not running from it or destroying it. He offered the world a new way to live, then died to redeem that world. Is there perhaps a sense in which Jesus also ‘redeemed’ the Old Testament?

We are people of the New Testament. We live by Christ’s standards and understand the world through his teachings and those of his disciples. More importantly we have the Spirit of Christ within us, who strives to show us the mind of Christ. It’s easy to throw up our hands and say “this is too much, I can’t stomach this” when we come across something unpalatable in the Old Testament. (I know, I've done it often.) Perhaps where we struggle with the text we should simply bring it to him and be content to wait for understanding. Then let's go on reading.

This post is part 6 of a series on reading the Old Testament:

Reading the Old Testament part 7 - Is the Old Testament misogynistic?
Reading the Old Testament part 6 - Not-so-simple questions about the Old Testament
Reading the Old Testament part 5 - A simple set of questions to use when reading the Old Testament 
Reading the Old Testament part 4 - The Old Testament wasn't written in a day
Reading the Old Testament part 3 - Remember the Old Testament is old
Reading the Old Testament part 2 - Getting an overview
Reading the Old Testament part 1 - Know your history

Asking why

How are we to understand the things that happen to us which disrupt our carefully planned lives? They may be minor interruptions to our day, or major disasters. Either way, they unsettle us and cause us to ask "Why this, and why now?" 

Or at least, if we are brought up to believe that we are 'masters of our own destiny' they will unsettle us. Likewise, if we believe that we can discern and obey God's will for our lives day by day, we will find ourselves asking questions. If we are complete fatalists, or  if we believe that God is arbitrary and unpredictable in what he does, we may be much less concerned with asking "Why?" It's our fate, or the will of the gods, and we just have to accept it.

Christians tend to adopt one of three responses to unexpected set backs to their plans. The first response is to see the disruption as the work of Satan, and to be even more determined to press on. After all, if Satan is trying to oppose what we are doing, it must be good!

The second response is to assume that God is testing us in some way, to see if we will continue to obey him. Again, pressing on is usually the only appropriate response.

The third response is to wonder whether it's our own fault.  Maybe we're heading in the wrong direction. Perhaps our plans are misguided and we need to change our minds. If so, then more prayer and preparation are needed before we move on

.

I suspect that which response we adopt is partly a matter of personality. Those who are self confident are more likely to consider the first two options, while the person who is prone to self doubt or cautiousness will tend to think of the third possibility first.

But there are also differences in theology (that is, our understanding of God) in the three responses. The first sees Satan as God's implacable enemy, the source of all evil. This view avoids attributing evil to God, whose goodness cannot look upon evil, far less will it. The weakness in this view is that it attributes far too much power to Satan and even risks falling into a dualism where the 'good guy' is at war with the 'bad guy' and eventually overcomes him. It also ignores those places in scripture where Satan requests permission from God for his actions or even seems to do God's bidding. 

So, for instance, when the gospels say that Jesus was led into the wilderness to be tested by Satan, it was clearly the Holy Spirit doing the leading. When Paul says that in order to keep him humble he received a "messenger of Satan in his flesh" it seems unlikely that Satan himself was interested in Paul's humility. The implication is that God wanted Paul to remain humble and allowed (or even called upon?) Satan to inflict him. 

If we take the view that God is absolutely sovereign over every event, then all that happens to us must ultimately be from God, and by his will.  This is the theology of those who adopt the second response. If we're not to fall into the trap of thinking that bad things only happen to bad people, we have to conclude that God allows bad things to happen to good people. But in order to avoid the conclusion that God is the source of evil, we then have to assume that he must have some good purpose for making the bad things happen. So difficulties are 'sent to try us', to test our commitment and submission to him, or to build our character. 

Those who respond by asking "Did I just get it wrong" also believe in God's sovereignty. But their theology allows more room for human beings to make choices that may not be God's will. God's sovereignty and control are demonstrated in the way in which he uses both our good and bad choices to work out his good purposes. 

So how do we decide the cause of the set backs to our plans and the necessary action to take? It isn't easy. All three responses, all three theological understandings, have some support from scripture. If we become conscious of having sinned in the choices we've made, we should deal with that. But what if we've been doing what we believe is good and pleasing to God, and still run into difficulties? 

Perhaps there's a lesson to be learned from Job, the book that deals most directly with the "why" behind unexpected set backs.  As readers, we are told that Job's afflictions were the result of a strange heavenly conversation between God and Satan. But no-one told Job that. 

Instead he was left to wrestle with his theology. Although Satan was the immediate cause of his afflictions, he never considered that option. Nor did he accept his wife's advice to give up. Unlike his friends, who piously reinterpreted his circumstances to fit their fixed theology, Job turned directly to God and asked "why?" He also asked "who?" - who is this God that I serve? In the end, he had fewer answers than when he started, but he also had a much deeper knowledge of God. 

Voices in my head

(Originally I wrote this as an introduction to a book. It may yet get that far, but for now its just a blog.)

It all began with what I came to think of as "the voices". Not the audible voices sometimes heard by those suffering from schizophrenia. I knew that what I was hearing was all in my mind. But nevertheless, "the voices" were distressing, confusing, sometimes even quite disabling.

There were the voices of my parents - decent, loving people who had taught me what was right and wrong and had given me a strong sense that "doing the right thing" went deeper than outward appearances. But some of their advice seemed contradictory - work hard and succeed...don't draw attention to yourself or be a show-off; women can have any career they want..mothers should stay home and look after their children.

There were the voices of various pastors and teachers whose sermons I had heard over the years. They all agreed on the fundamental truths of the Christian gospel, but when it came to carrying it out in practice, they sometimes disagreed. It was not as though I could go to the Bible and look for answers to the question "who is right?" They'd all taught me their own way of reading the Bible.

Then there were the voices of all the authors whose books I had read, searching for some clue as to how I should live. They ranged from pop psychology through to hard-core theology, Tony Campolo to Thomas a Kempis. I'd go to one for comfort, only to remember the words of another deploring such apparent softness and lack of spiritual stamina amongst Christians.

And there were the myriad voices of the world: "to be significant you have to make your mark on the world", "don't make waves", "enjoy the good things of life", "live simply", "stand up for yourself", "nice girls are not aggressive" - on and on they'd go.

I became aware of "the voices" at a time in my life when I was moving from one career to another, still uncertain about what I was going to do with the rest of my life. The career I'd left had provided a busy schedule, a good income and social status. My new role was just the opposite - unstructured, no guaranteed income and with little kudos.

I hadn't particularly enjoyed much of what I had been doing previously. Now I was doing something I loved. At first I felt a delightful sense of freedom in being able to plan my own day. Instead of a rigid routine, each new day held potential surprises. I was discovering new skills, new aspects of my personality that I had once thought were weaknesses but now appeared as potential strengths. Life was an adventure.

After a while, though, the lack of structure began to seem a burden. I tried to plan my days, praying each morning that God would show me what he wanted me to do. But I discovered that God doesn't often drop "to do" lists from heaven on demand. In the end I had to make a decision about what I would do. And there were bigger decisions to make about the future - whether to study, and what, and where, whether to concentrate on one skill or be a jack of all trades.

That was when I became aware of "the voices". They had always been there, of course, but now it seemed as though they all began to talk at once. "You should....", "You ought to....", "How could you...?', "Why don't you...?". If I tried to please one, another would say "But what about...?" No matter what I did, I was always failing to do something else, always failing to please someone, always listening to advice that seemed sound but completely contradicted the advice I was currently acting on. Sometimes I would get real advice and occasionally even real criticism from the real people around me. But most of the advice was coming from "the voices" within me.

I began to feel like screaming "Just be quiet for a while and let me think!" Somewhere in the gabble I knew there must be God's voice and perhaps even a voice of my own. But half a dozen voices were telling me what God wanted. And one or other of them was always quick to point out how I was failing God. To meet all their demands I would have to be a sociable hermit, a well-turned out nun, a meditating politician, a mystic with a social conscience - all at once.

This might sound like nonsense or madness to you. It certainly has all the hallmarks of neurotic anxiety. Many Christians live in the freedom of Christ without question, perhaps without even being aware of it. But if you recognize my dilemma as yours, or if you sometimes feel that being a Christian is more of a burden than a joy (and I've met many Christians like that), I hope that this book will help you to explore what it means to be truly free.