Roger Aubrey

I'll be back

If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. (John 14:3)

There is a beautiful, stark simplicity to these words of Jesus: 'I am going and I will be back.' He went. So he must come back. There is no need to worry or panic; he told us to trust him and not to allow ourselves to get disturbed and troubled (verses 1-2). He said he would go: he did. He said he will come back: he will. Jesus said it; I believe it; that settles it.

Talking about me?

For the past few days I have been in Manchester, at Covenant School of Ministries, School of the Word. I have been teaching on 'Who is God?' Actually, it's better to say I was talking about God with the students there; they already know him very well. My task was to explain what the different names and attributes that God reveals in the Bible mean. It was a marvelous experience.

On the drive home to Cardiff last night I reflected on the past three days and why I had enjoyed it so much. It wasn't just the fact that I was back in the classroom, enjoying the dynamic of theological discussion, it was much more than that. Eventually I understood: for three days I had the privilege of talking about and to God himself, the One who makes sense of everything and the One who in reality it's all about. There is nothing more meaningful, because our relationship with and revelation of God affects everything else.

Sometimes our lives are caught up in the 'business' of God, things to do with God, rather than God himself. It's easy to fall into this trap, especially when one is involved in church leadership and ministry. The 'business' of church should never replace the reason for church: God himself. Now, I am not advocating that all we do as leaders is to sit and talk all the time about God. There is work to do. But getting the balance right is key: time spent with God will determine our effectiveness for him. John Wesley used to say that there was so much to be done in the day that if he didn't spend several hours of the day with God then he wouldn't get it all done. I think I know what he meant.

In God's Louvre

We are God's works of art, newly created in Jesus Christ to do good works, which God planned and prepared a long time ago for us to do. (Ephesians 2:10)

The Mona Lisa is probably the world's most famous work of art. Created by Leonardo da Vinci, it hangs in pride of place in the Louvre in Paris. Those who gaze on it marvel at its beauty and multi-faceted originality. It is testimony to the genius who painted it. People stare at it for hours; academic papers by the truckload are written about it; it's the most recognisable and most valuable work of art in the world. When the Mona Lisa is discussed, conversation always returns to da Vinci: praise and adoration are heaped on him for creating such a masterpiece.

The Bible tells us that we believers are God's works of art. Our genius God has created billions of 'Mona Lisas': breathtaking, beautiful, original, beyond value, multi-faceted masterpieces. That's who we are; Christians are not cheap, tacky, mass manufactured prints. Each one of us is a work of exquisite art, created by the most creative Artist of all: our Father. And what makes us such works of art is that we have been re-created in God's image, to be just like him.

So, just as when people view the Mona Lisa their breath is taken away by da Vinci's evident genius, so when people see us they marvel at the Artist who made us - they give praise and adoration to God.

Perfect timing

No-one seized him, because his time had not yet come. (John 8:20)

That phrase, 'his time had not yet come', appears a few times in John's gospel in reference to Jesus. For Jesus, it was not only the case that he did the right thing; he did the right thing at the right time. For him, timing was everything.

To do the right thing at the wrong time is to do the wrong thing. What may have been the right thing to do becomes the wrong thing because it's done at the wrong time. I'm not talking about objective truth here: I am saying that things have their time. Ecclesiastes tells us so: there's a time to love, a time to hate, a time of war and a time of peace, for example.

We don't only have to know what to do and how to do it: we have to know when to do it.

The Spirit is given when Jesus is glorified

The Spirit had not been given, since Jesus had not yet been glorified. (John 7:39)

This verse reveals an important principle, even though it specifically refers to the ascension of Jesus and his subsequent sending of the Spirit at Pentecost. It was only when Jesus was glorified - enthroned in heaven as King of Kings and Lord of lords - that he gave the Spirit. The Spirit came when Jesus was glorified.

In a sense that is what happens today, even though the Spirit has come once and for all and indwells all who believe. If we desire the increased sense of the Spirit's presence among us, we must glorify Jesus. That is what the Spirit has come to do: he makes Jesus known. In a kind of complimentary act of mutual love Jesus responds to the Spirit's activity of glorifying by increasing our sense of the Spirit's presence. When people leave a meeting expressing their love of Jesus and are more keenly aware of the Spirit's presence, rather than dissecting a sermon or being enchanted with the preacher, you know that God has been at work. That is why more and more I take interest in what my people talk about after the church meeting and in the following hours. If their talk is of Jesus and the Spirit then I am doing something right. If their conversation is about my skill (or lack of it) at teaching and preaching, then something is amiss. A glorified Jesus will give the Spirit; and the Spirit will glorify Jesus. That's my kind of church meeting!

A life worth living

I consider my life worth nothing to me. (Acts 20:24)

Paul uttered these words in Miletus as he bade farewell to the Ephesian elders. He knew what was facing him: arrest and persecution. But this was no abandoning of purpose or resignation to his fate, far from it.

Paul knew his life was worth nothing - to him. He did not devalue his life; he knew it had great worth. It just wasn't worth anything in his own hands, making his own plans, with him as the master of his destiny. His life would be worth nothing if he lived only for himself and fulfilled his own self-centred ambitions.

Paul's life had worth because he had surrendered that life many years previously into the hands and plans of God. It's the same for all of us: our lives only yield their true worth and value when handed over to the One who made us. God created us for his purpose; when we submit our lives to him through the Lordship of Jesus our lives express the worth that we were created for. Our lives have worth when we discover not what we can make of them, but what God can make of them.

If you only knew

Jacob set up an altar and called it El Elohe Israel. (Genesis 33:20)

If you knew...who it is that asks you for a drink... (John 4:10)

These two incidents in the Bible have a vital link: they occurred in the same place, though separated by some 1,700 years or more. The first reference recounts how Jacob, after his life-changing encounter with God at Peniel ('face of God') moved on and met Esau. When he arrived at Shechem he bought a plot of land with a well; he named it God, the God of Israel. It was a place of significance, with a powerful name. All who came to draw water knew its name. But time passed, and its significance waned.

All those years later a Samaritan woman came to the same well; she did it every day, as was her habit. There was nothing special about the place anymore, just a well with water to meet her natural needs.

But this day, something special was about to happen at that well, something even Jacob had not experienced. That day, God, the God of Israel, Jesus, was sitting there, waiting for the woman and about to invite her to drink Eternal Water! But she had no idea who was speaking to her. This well, El Elohe Israel, had been reduced to 'Jacob's well' (verse 6). But the supernatural God of Heaven was about to invade her natural life; she would never be the same again.

If we only knew who we are dealing with when we encounter Jesus Christ, our lives would be drastically different. He is the God who made the universe, the One who brought the vast star fields into being with one word from his mouth. He is the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob; the One who appeared to Moses in a burning bush; the One who walked in the fire with Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. He is the holy God whom Isaiah saw.

Never reduce God, the God of Israel, to anything less than he really is, to the mundane and the natural. Don't let your Christianity become a life of tedium and habit, of God-in-a-box. Never let God have to say to you: 'If you only knew who is speaking to you.'

You've lost something

What has happened to all your joy? (Galatians 4:15)

Dianne and I had a lovely time in Pembrokeshire last week. The weather was absolutely glorious, and we were able to relax, read and walk - and sleep.

I decided to read Galatians while away. I always try to read an epistle in one go: you get the sense of the letter much better than by just dipping in. Galatians is Paul's polemic against legalism, against those who wanted to replace the gospel of faith in Christ and his grace by insisting on adherence to the Mosaic Law, and to circumcision. Paul takes no prisoners in his argument; at one point he gets very earthy and encourages those who advocate such a way of living to castrate themselves! (5:12)

Many aspects of the letter spoke to me afresh as I read; but one phrase in particular leaped out again. In the midst of his passionate theological reasoning, Paul appeals to his readers, 'what happened to all your joy?' The Galatians had lost something; the lights had gone out. Just by looking at them Paul knew they were wrong: they had lost their joy. This was a major concern for him, not because he merely wanted them to enjoy themselves (even though we really should enjoy being Christians). Real joy comes from peace; and real peace only comes through righteousness - Romans 14:17 tells us that. The kingdom of God is righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. That was Paul's concern: they had replaced life in the Spirit with legalism, and death had ensued. Legalism imposes rules and regulations; the Holy Spirit lives the life of Jesus. 

I sometimes say to people, 'If you don't enjoy being a Christian, go and enjoy being something else.' We should be the happiest people on earth, not those who looked like they sucked a lemon. When you know you are righteous, and it's all because of what Jesus has done for you; when you know you are as righteous as Jesus is, then peace flows and that will certainly fill you with joy. Much better than legalism.

The day war broke out

Today is the 70th anniversary of Britain declaring war on Nazi Germany, two days after the Germans had invaded Poland. It was the beginning of a war that would cost over 60 million lives during the next six years and change the face of Europe, indeed the world. After WWII, nothing would be the same.

As I thought about this special anniversary this morning, my mind turned not to the great battles and events of the war; I thought about my parents, who lived through those years. Mum and dad were engaged to be married when war broke out; dad was 22, mum was 23. They got married in 1940, the day the Battle of Britain started (something they would mention if they ever argued!) They were just ordinary people, planning to be together the rest of their lives, never expecting their world to be torn apart. They were typical of nearly everybody else they knew. The war changed all that.

Dad was in what was called a reserved occupation. His job meant that he would not be conscripted into the forces, because he was needed at home. But around 1942 he volunteered and joined the Royal Engineers. My mum was mad with him; but she knew it was the right thing to do. He was due to take part in the D Day landings, but broke his leg playing football for his battalion a few weeks before. I used to feel sorry for him that he had missed such a great adventure, until I grew up to realise the full horror he was spared, especially when I visited the Normandy beaches and cemeteries a couple of years ago. He ended up in the Far East and didn't see my mum and sister for over two years. But they survived, unlike some of their friends. My mum grew up with a lad called Jacky Hart, who lived next door. He volunteered as a tail gunner in a bomber and was killed in his early twenties.

It's strange to think what my parents, like all parents of my generation, went through. And when it was all over, they got on with their lives. They appreciated life, because they had to fight for it, and didn't take anything for granted. They lived without bitterness and rancour; life was too short and meant to be enjoyed. They discovered that when the going gets tough, the tough really have to get going. And they were always grateful to those of their generation who never came home. They never looked back in anger, but got on with their future. That's how they taught my sisters, my brother and me how to live.

And that's why I think of my parents today.

Church is people not preachers

Now you are the body of Christ, and everyone of you is a part of it. (1Corinthians 12:27)

One of the things that has come home to me again in recent days has been the concept of church that so many Christians have. I am not trying to be judgmental; but I can't help but notice how often I read or hear people describe their Sunday experience of church as 'going to hear such and such' or 'really looking forward to having "brother so and so" to preach today'. Church becomes something or somewhere that is gone to in order to hear someone speak. Now I am sure that many of these preachers are fine men and women of God; and I believe in the necessity of preaching and teaching as part of our meeting together. The ministry of the Word of God is vital.

But it's not the be all and end all of why we come together. Church is people not a preacher. It's not having a minister or pastor do it all for you while you sit passively in your seat. It's not attending a church. Church is people. It's being the church; and the church involves everybody. 'When you come together everyone has' (1Corinthians 14:26). Therefore, everything that happens in a church meeting is not the precursor to the preacher; the word must serve the purpose of our gathering together. One of the ways we have to tackle the passivity of so many believers is by dismantling the Nehushtan of the preacher being the climax or purpose of the church's meeting. Spirit-led thanksgiving; praise; gifts of the Spirit; testimonies; revelations; prayer: all these should be manifested too, by the body itself. The church then becomes a body functioning in wholeness rather than only one voice, no matter how fine the Word is.

Let me reiterate: I am not calling for an end to preaching and teaching of the Word - far from it. Neither do I advocate the current trend in which church is almost indefinable (organic is a popular term): it has structure and form. The church is not organic, it's spiritual. My appeal is that we consider carefully what church is all about. It cannot be a one man band in which the majority of the time spent is listening to one voice.