Travelling with JFA....Don't do it

Let me relate a recent travel experience to you. Just over two weeks ago, Emily and I set off for Switzerland to spend a very restful 4 days or so by a Lake with my parents. Travel in itself is usually pretty exciting anyway,  but this particular journey had the added excitement of being in my hands – my administratively rather slippery hands. The excitement, or risk, depending on one's perspective, involved when travelling with me has to do with a peculiar phenomenon, namely a completely unfounded voyager's confidence that seems to grip me as soon as I drag my wheelie suitcase out of our front door. Whilst many adopt a traditional, look up, write down, check, then check again approach when it comes to knowing where to go, how to get there and when to leave, I seem always have an overwhelmingly strong feeling that I know the answer to those three questions, even though I haven't checked it, no one has told me it, and if I did once have the information I have either forgotten it, or my brain has quite inconveniently adapted it almost beyond recognition.

The day started badly with a late wake up and a quick discovery that our flight was leaving an hour earlier than I had so confidently advertised. General pre-flight stress levels rose markedly in the house. Next I found myself trying to check in online, only to fall foul of Ryanair's rather cynical idiot-punishing money extraction strategy, whereby if you leave your online check in too late you have to pay a hefty sum. Emily was annoyed, patient and very forgiving. By this stage you would think my gung-ho approach would have mellowed slightly, but I was still going strong. We arrived in Italy and took the bus to Milan where we would board the train to Switzerland. As we entered I saw the departures board with the two trains that Mum had mentioned to me, but they were over an hour away: my eyes fixed on a similar kind of train leaving at exactly the same time as the other two – a quarter past the hour. We approached a ticket machine and bought two tickets, although it seemed to me that this foolish device was refusing to acknowledge that there was an early train available that would spare us another hour in the station.  Unperturbed I insistently pointed at the departures board where the Turin train was soon to depart. 'That's Italy for you', I thought. This was obviously the right train, I thought, since I thought I faintly recalled my mum saying something about Turin, or some Italian city, or what is a German one?, possibly in connection with trains, at some point in some conversation over the past few months, perhaps . Sufficiently reassured by this extremely vague memory, I dragged Emily onto the train not permitting a moment to buy some refreshment, and we headed off.

After a few minutes' travel, I picked up the phone with a certain pride, ready to communicate to Mum that we would be arriving earlier than planned.

Mum who is always very positive, was her usual self until I mentioned Turin. That's Western Italy, she intoned – you're going in completely wrong direction.

We'd been travelling for 10 hours at this stage, and because of my earlier blunders I was already right out of brownie points anyway, and contemplated briefly how I would explain this to Emily. I decided to go for the 'don't give me problems, give me solutions' approach, and bee – lined for the conductor to work out what the damage was. He said we'd have to get off at the next station, 30 minutes from then, wait for an hour, go back another hour, in order to be back in Milan. From there we could get the last extremely slow train of the day to Switzerland, not have any reserved seats and share our extended journey time with 10 bicycles a couple of prams, and some deeply unimpressed-looking interrailers in the luggage overspill section at the rear of the train. I returned to our seats and ate humble pie, and had seconds as well. Eventually, we arrived on the train of shame, just under 3 hours later than planned, pretty scratchy and grateful that we no longer had to sit on an aluminium bar anymore.

Das Märchen vom Seewind

Here is a story written by my Grandmother in 1944, charting allegorically the path of her childhood.

Der Seewind, ja der Seewind! Er ist der Diener eines mächtigen Herren, eines Großen Königs, von Ihm hat er sein Lied gelernt. Wer unter seinen Flügeln groß geworden ist, der kann sein Lied nie vergessen, nie.

Es war einmal ein König und eine Königin, die lebten in einem wunderschönen großen weißen Schloß. Und wenn sie abends auf ihrem Dach unter den blühenden Lilien und Kressen und Margeriten saßen und sich vom Regieren ausruhten – denn der König und die Königin waren fleißige Leute – so strich der gute, salzige Seewind über sie hin und hunderte von Silbermöven kreisten über ihnen und sammelten sich für den abendlichen Heimweg nach den Inseln im Meer.
Das Königreich war ein fruchtbares Land, seine Einwohner stille, saubere, fleißige Menschen. So herrschten Zufriedenheit und Eintracht im ganzen Lande, von den wohlhabenden Städten bis zu den kleinen Fischerdörfern am Meer. Ja, es war ein schönes Land, wie ein einziger großer Garten, so gut gehalten und so voll von Blumen war es. Und der Seewind blies über das Land hinweg, jahraus, jahrein und sang sein uraltes Lied von Freiheit und Ferne, von Größe und Weite; und in jedem Baum, der sich vor ihm neigte und in jedem Menschenherzen klang das Lied fort.
Ein großer weicher Himmel wölbte sich über das Land, höher wölbte er sich als über den anderen Ländern, das sagten jedenfalls die Fremden, die hierher kamen. Und es kamen viele Fremde in dieses Land und auch in das Königsschloß; ja, es war selten, daß nicht ein Gast mit am Mittagstisch des Königs saß. Dies ist auch nicht verwunderlich, denn die große Gastfreundschaft und weite Bildung des Königs, die Schönheit und Güte der jungen Frau Königin und das weiße Schloß mit seinen vielen, vielen Blumen waren bekannt bis über die Grenzen des Landes hinaus.

Man kann sich wohl denken, daß es bei all den verschiedenen Gästen, so bunt durcheinander wie sie kamen, Maler und Dichter, Musiker und Gelehrte und kluge Staatsmänner und Weitgereiste, nie langweilig wurde im weißen Schloß!
Der König und die Königin hatten drei Kinder, den Prinzen Molch und seinen beiden jüngeren Schwestern, Prinzessin Eichhorn und Prinzessin Mops. Prinzessin Mops war als drittes Kind das wohlgeratenste der Geschwister, ein kluges, ruhiges Mädchen, das alle Weisheit schweigend in sich hineinsammelte. Sie sprach nur selten, aber – das wußten alle – was Prinzessin Mops sagte und behauptete, das war so.
Prinz Molch hatte es nicht leicht mit der Erziehung seiner Schwestern, die ihm als vornehmlichste, brüderliche Aufgabe erschien. Die Prinzessinnen waren auch wirklich so töricht und dumm, daß man sich in der Öffentlichkeit einfach ihrer schämen mußte. Später, nach den ersten harten Jahren der Erziehung war er dann ihr bester Freund. Er hatte ein offenes Auge für alles Schöne und alle Kunst auf dieser Erde, einen fleißigen, klugen Kopf und einen starken Willen, mit dem er auf sein Ziel hinsteuerte. Vielen war er ein guter Freund. Allzu früh kam Bruder Tod und nahm seinen Freunden und seinen Schwestern den Freund weg. Noch eines erzählten die Leute von Prinz Molch: daß meistens Katzen und kleine Kinder hinter ihm herliefen, weil sie ihn liebten.
Der Prinz und die Prinzessinnen verlebten goldene Jahre im Schloß der Eltern; der König lehrte sie die ritterlichen Künste: reiten, jagen und schwimmen; die handwerkliche Kunst schätzte er aber ebenso hoch und gab die Kinder zu den besten Meistern in die Lehre. Bei der Frau Königin lernten sie Werke und Weisheit der großen Menschen kennen, die früher über diese Erde gegangen sind; sie lernten alles Leben achten, Menschen, Tiere und Pflanzen, sie lernten die Augen öffnen für Schönheit und Schmerz, Freude und Leid dieser Welt.

Aber was der König und die Königin ihnen nicht lehren konnten, was kein Mensch einem anderen lehren kann, das lernten sie vom Seewind. Freiheit umgab sie und der Seewind behütete sie, sie entdeckten die tausend Wunder der Dünen, des Meeres und des Himmels, während der Wind sein wunderbares Lied von der Macht und der Liebe des Großen Königs sang.
Die Prinzessinnen hatten das ganze weite Land lieb, am liebsten aber waren ihnen die Dünen. Hier lebten ja ihre Freunde, die Kaninchen. Die Möwen und Austernfischer brüteten hier und erzogen ihre flaumigen gescheckten Kinder im warmen Sand unter Strauchhafer und Kreuzkraut; hier sang im Frühling die erste Nachtigall und der Kuckuck, die Birken blühten zu Ehren des heiligen Georg, und später der Maidorn, Liguster und Jelängerjelieber; hier ließen sich im Herbst die Scharen von Zugvögeln auf dem Stranddorn mit seinen leuchtenden Beeren nieder.

Nicht alle Menschen wußten von den tausend verschiedenen Blumen der Dünen, denn sie waren so klein, so winzig klein, daß man sich zu ihnen auf die Erde legen mußte, um sie zu erkennen, den Steinbruch, Vergißmeinnicht und Frauenhaar und alle ihre Brüder und Schwestern.
Hier ging die Sonne am schönsten auf und hier zog der Abend mit so viel Frieden auf das Land herunter, daß man wußte, daß der Große König selbst sie geschickt hatte.
Hier hatten die Prinzessinnen mit vielen anderen Kindern des Landes dem Großen König ihren Dienst versprochen und seinen Ritterschlag empfangen.
Wer im Winde der Freiheit und Ehrfurcht vor dem Leben seinen ersten Flügelschlag getan und später fliegen gelernt hat, dem muß jede Verletzung der Freiheit wie eine Wunde am eigenen Körper erscheinen. Fremde Gesetze waren in das Land gekommen, Gesetze, die vom Menschen kamen und nicht vom König kommen konnten; sie vermaßen sich, die Menschen nach ihrer Gestalt und ihrer Farbe zu scheiden, die einen zu erheben, die anderen zu verachten. Wer waren diese Menschen, sich dieses Richterrecht zu nehmen? Viel Schmerz haben sie ins Land getragen, Freunde getrennt. Wie konnte Prinzessin Eichhorn das verstehen? (Denn wisst Ihr, was ein richtiger Freund ist, ein richtiger Freund? Es ist etwas sehr seltenens auf dieser Erde und man hat wohl nicht viele im Laufe des Lebens.)
Der König und sein ganzes Haus liebten das Land als sei es ihr Vaterland; das war es aber nicht, denn der Vater des Königs war in einem anderen Land geboren; dort hatte der König auch ein Schloß; dieses andere Land liebte er, weil es die Heimat seines Vaters und seines Großvaters gewesen war. Und die Kinder liebten es, aber den Seewind konnten sie auch dort nicht vergessen.
Viele schöne Jahre waren dahingegangen. Da zogen schwarze Wolken am Horizont auf, böse schwere Wolken und ballten sich zusammen über dem lieben Land. Und die Menschen schauten voller Angst zum Himmel. Der König hatte schon ins Horn geblasen, gleich als das erste schwarze Wölkchen sich zeigte, denn er war ein wachsamer König, der jeden Tag auf seinen Turm stieg und mit dem Perspektiv den Horizont besah, rundherum. Der König wußte sich keinen Rat, er holte sein Pusterohr vom Kamin und blies nach Leibeskräften hinein, und wenn gleich viele seiner Untertanen es ihm gleich taten, was vermögen hundert, ja sogar tausend Pusterohre gegen eine Gewitterwand? Der Sturm brach los, ein böser Sturm. Die Häuser stürzten ein, die Deiche zerrissen und das Wasser strömte über das Land und brachte Tod und Verderben mit sich. Die Menschen schauten verängstigt in die schwarze Nacht hinauf. So dunkel wurde es über dem Land,daß sie den Sternenhimmel nicht mehr sahen, und so wild brauste der Sturm, daß sie den Seewind nicht mehr hörten. Nur wenige, ganz wenige Menschen behielten das Licht der Sterne und das alte Lied des Windes in ihrem Herzen.
Als der erste Blitzschlag von der Gewitterwand zur Erde fuhr, mußte der König das Land verlassen; denn so lautete der alte Vertrag mit dem Land seiner Väter. Ein merkwürdiges, unverständliches Gesetz, daß er, der König im Augenblick der Not, sein geliebtes Land verlassen mußte. So wollte ihm beim Abschied auch fast das Herz brechen.
Wie oft hatte er auf schwarze Wolken geblasen, wenn sie sich am Horizont zeigten, wie oft hatte er sie vertrieben! Nun waren sie doch gekommen.
Der König stieg zum letzten mal in seine Kutsche, wie im Traum tat er es, und er zog die Gardinen vor die Fenster, denn es wurde ihm zu schwer, von seinem lieben Land Abschied zu nehmen. Die Fahrt war nicht lang, nur wenige Tage dauerte sie, denn die vier Pferde, die ihn zogen, waren jung und schnell. Aber als der König in seinem anderen Schloß ankam, war er ein alter Mann geworden, sein blondes Haar hatte sich weiß gefärbt. Armer, alter König!
Von dem Schmerz der Frau Königin und der Prinzessinnen über die Not ihres lieben Landes weiß das Märchen nichts zu sagen, wohl weil man über den Schmerz einer Frau nicht spricht.
Wir wissen nur, daß die Königin im neuen Schloß gleich wieder an die Arbeit ging, daß sie auch hierher Freude und Sonnenschein brachte und dem neuen Land eine gute Mutter war.
Das Lied vom Seewind hat aber weiter in ihr gesungen und viele Menschen haben es gehört und sind fröhlich davon geworden.
Prinzessin Mops und Prinzessin Eichhorn aber waren groß geworden, mit dem geliebten Land hatten sie auch ihre goldenen Kinderjahre hinter sich gelassen. Wer so viel Gutes empfangen hat als Kind, von dem wird sicher das Leben einmal mehr fordern als von anderen.
Nun zogen sie in die Welt hinaus, damit das Leben selbst sie weiter lehrte.
Sie kamen durch ferne Länder und wußten, daß sie niemals den Gehorsam gegen den Großen König vergessen und nirgends den Menschen ihre Hilfe versagen durften.
Und die Welt, die weite Welt war so wunderschön, daß man sich an ihr gar nicht satt sehen konnte. Wenn auch großes Leid sich in den Häusern und Hütten, unter Mensch und Tier verbarg, so war doch die Freude immer stärker als das Leid und heller als die Dunkelheit.


Nun weiß das Märchen noch etwas von einem Prinzen; er lebte in dem anderen Land, im eigentlichen Heimatland unseres Königs. Er war ein Prinz, nicht wie andere Prinzen, denn wo er hinkam, zündete sich ein Lichtlein an, auch wenn’s in der dunkelsten Höhle dieser Erde war.
War er so schön? War er so klug? War er so gut? Wir wissen es nicht und niemand hat davon erzählt. Wir wissen nur, daß auch er im Dienst des Grossen Königs stand. Die Leute erzählten sich, daß er Prinzessin Eichhorn lieb hatte und daß sie ihn lieb hatte und daß ihr großer Wunsch war, gemeinsam dem Großen König zu dienen. Was aus ihnen wurde? Wir haben es nicht erfahren, denn das Märchen ist hier zu Ende.

Wir wissen nur eins bestimmt, daß der Seewind weiter weht, daß die krummen Kiefern noch immer sein altes schönes Lied singen und daß dies Lied auch in den Menschenherzen weiter klingt; denn die es einmal gehört haben, die können es nie vergessen, nie.

A short discursive forray into science and religion

A Short Essay on Science and Religion, neatly outlining some of the crucial points, written by my friend and scientist Dr. Ed Brooke

Here is my long-awaited missive on some views on science and religion for your reading pleasure! Use/destroy at will...

So, for any that know me, I am going to be arguing for the merry coexistence of science and religion, but I should say that I have been on several sides of this debate through different stages of my life, and know and love people on all sides of it, so I hope that I have a pretty wide view of the topic.

Also, one subject I won't go into is the whole faith vs religion argument. I will be treating it in a very ill-defined way as having a set of beliefs in some kind of god/God that then has some effect on how one lives one's life. Of course many (including people of 'faith') view 'religion' as a set of exclusive clubs that just excuse the right to be nasty to members of other exclusive clubs. I will hold to the more optimistic line...

I will not profer more than my own personal views here - you can look up plenty of other points of view from both sides of the coin online or in many many (too many?) books.

OK, now we have the stage set, let's get down to business.

The subject of 'evidence' has been mentioned, so let's start there. In this science v religion argument, those making the most noise are unsurprisingly the ones at the extremes. But it is worth mentioning that the quiet majority actually sit quite happily in the middle - that is to say that there are many many scientists who have faith and many people of faith who have no problems with the tenets of science. And we are not talking shoddy or fluffy scientists here, but of all levels and abilities. I have heard it say that in university Christian Unions, there are more scientists than artists.

I personally think that scientists like to put a framework on things, and many have found that there are parts of life that no scientific framework will help you solve. So they search for another, and for many the religious framework fits quite nicely.

And so it is for billions of people across the world. Now if there were obvious upsides to being religious then this would be a pretty moot point. But given that some of these people undergo considerable opposition and harm because of their views, then we have to think rather more seriously about this. Why on earth would you believe in something that causes you harm, and that there is little empirical evidence of, unless you actually believed that (a) it was true, and/or (b) it gave you some benefit to your life? Now of course we are not all martyrs, but I think they raise some interesting questions.

Let us return to the point of 'parts of life that no scientific framework will help you solve'. I like to take the example of music here (as it has rather less emotional attachment). Now as any physicist will tell you, music is just a bunch of vibrations in the air particles of various frequencies. The biologist could tell you about how the eardrum picks up the vibrations. The biochemist could tell you how the signal is transferred along the auditory nerves to the brain. The experimental psychologist could tell you about the general behaviour of the parts of the brain that are stimulated. And I am sure there are others who could talk about the importance of music in the development of humankind in terms of reinforcing identity and hence strengthening the group, therefore increasing the likelihood of survival. But none of that makes the slightest bit of difference to the feeling you get when you listen to Beethoven's Fifth, or 'Born Slippy' by Underworld. Nor is it necessary for the enjoyment the same (although I am sure that there are physicists whose enjoyment of music is enhanced greatly by the appreciation of the subtle complexities of interference involved). So I think it is plausible to state that 'an appreciation of music' and 'science' are mutually exclusive.

And I think, dear reader, you can see where I'm going from there. We could apply the same arguments to love, where an understanding of the vaguaries of oxytocin and vasopressin will do nothing to change the effect of the most powerful experiences in one's life. Similarly, understanding the behaviour of pack animals won't change how a person relates to their family and friends. So it is clear to see that in many parts of life, while science already provides a lot of answers to the questions of 'how', that does not necessarily help an individual, scientist or not, to deal with those situations.

That is not to say that there is anything wrong with the science involved - I hold the members of my profession in the highest esteem. It is just that the scientific method is not designed to answer such questions. A useful phrase I have heard is: 'science deals with the what, how and when, faith deals with the who and the why'.

To finish off this line of argument, let's say that science did have all the answers to life's questions. What would that mean for the human race? Firstly you would expect scientists' lives to be 'better' in some way. Well, I think a quick look around would suggest that this is clearly not the case. I know just as many intelligent people who struggle with drink, drugs, affairs, divorces, emotional pain and heartache as I do less intelligent. Being bright is a very useful tool and used wisely can really help to alleviate some of the problems that this world can throw at you. But, and I speak from personal experience here, it is not the be-all and end-all, and resting too much on one's own abilities can lead you down some pretty damaging alleyways. One can say exactly the same about money - there are probably just as many divorced parents at the affluent school that I teach at than at the local comp (if not more).

We are very good at conning ourselves that our lives are better than for those who are less fortunate than ourselves. However anyone who has travelled to what used to be known as the third world would know that the people they meet, often totally uneducated, are just as warm, just as friendly, and just as happy as anyone at home. I know a man who takes UK businessmen to help out 'third world' businesses to aid local development. His observations were that, while the visitors may have had much more in the way of personal wealth, those they were helping tended to be much better off 'spiritually' (i.e. in there sense of wellbeing etc.). So I think that this shows that education (scientific and otherwise) and money, while incredibly useful tools, are not the route to happiness. I think it has been interesting to see that in these economically troubled times, people's satisfaction in their job has actually improved. For once, people are seeing what they have, and are being thankful. Interesting.

Anyway I have digressed far too far. Hopefully I have shown that there are many questions in this world that science can't answer. And I have also shown that being a scientist or educated does not in itself help you navigate your way through this life. Note (and I apologise to my consulting friends) that the evidence is not necessarily of the type you can plot on a graph. But I hope that you will find it as compelling as I do.

I would hopefully think that we are now at the stage where the phrase 'scientific discovery will make religion redundant' now sounds as ridiculous as 'scientific discovery will make music redundant'. It is worth noting that this phrase was first thrown about hundreds of years ago, and religion doesn't seem to be going anywhere. While in the public press there is much talk of the demise of religion, in fact there is no such thing - for Christianity in the UK a general decrease in the 'traditional' churches has been more than compensated for by an explosion in the newer 'evangelical' churches (I use the term very loosely).

Having spoken at length about science, let's have one quick comment on 'faith'. Some people would suggest that actually not believing in a god is as much a statement of faith as believing in a god. You are still making a comment about how you believe the world works, with little evidence to support the matter. But then we get into the 'Miracle on 34th Street' situation of arguing about whether the onus is on the faithist or the anti-faithist to deliver the proof. And that seems a little silly to me. The big problem is that different people will require different levels of proof. And as mentioned before, these are questions that rarely support graphs or experiments, so the proof provided by one side will rarely be accepted as valid by the other. And this is why we end up always returning to this argument.

And the science vs religion debate has been going furiously for a hundred years with little progress being made on either side (I expect this message to make little difference too...)

A quick word to the scientists. Those who know about the philosophy of science will understand the phrase 'there is no truth in science' (for my mathematician friends, I am fully aware that there is plenty of truth in maths). Science is just a bunch of theories constructed to help us understand the world around us. Let's take the development of gravity. In ancient history people understood that things went towards the earth, and the Romans constructed complicated aqueduct systems based on an understanding of such. Then Newton formulated his theory of gravity, allowing the formulation of equations to predict motion, and eventually the launch of man into space. Now the talk is of gravitons and things of which I know very little, helping us to understand the deepest workings of the universe. Each stage in this development was useful, and each stage modelled the world more accurately. But I don't need to know about gravitons to understand that my teacup will fall to the ground and smash if I let go of it. So different levels of theories are useful for solving different problems. I should know - I teach Chemistry, where from GCSE to A-level we have to completely re-learn how atoms work, and then re-learn it all over again at University! Science changes, it ebbs and flows. As more evidence comes to light previous theories get re-evaluated and new ones get formulated. I don't expect this to end anytime soon.

I think scientists should thus be cautious at putting too much stock in their science, as I saw one internationally reknowned scientist do at a recent talk at school. Great scientist, but a touch misguided in my view.

And a quick word to the anti-scientists (put a scientist and an anti-scientist together in a room and you get an almighty explosion!). Most anti-scientists will at some point have driven a car, taken some aspirin, used a computer, carried a plastic bag, listened to an ipod, made a phone call, eaten food and worn clothes. They need to be aware that everything they do in their daily life has been modified and developed by scientists, all in order that their lives may be easier and more comfortable. And to focus on my own area of expertise, if you get ill you are going to be more indebted to the medical and pharmaceutical scientists than you know. So I think it is curious that these folk should try and poo-poo some areas of science (take, say, evolutionary biology) while being so totally indebted to the rest of the scientific community. It is the same spirit of exploration, discovery and evidence-based research that is being used in each - if you trust in the method in one area, why not trust it in another. Conversely if I were to try and understand the theory of gravity, or how to make plastic, by reading the Bible or Koran, that would be a mistake.

So where are we left up?

Well I hope that I have argued a decent case for the merry co-existence of science and religion (and I am quite chuffed that I have only used the term 'god' a couple of times!). And I hope that I have fired a few warning shots across the bows of both parties lest they get too close to fighting each other. Perhaps I should get a job with the UN peacekeepers.

As with all conflicts, perhaps what I would hope for is that each side would seek to understand the opposition better. I think each would see that there is actually much more common ground between the two than they realise. Both scientists and people of faith want to improve the world in which we live. We all want to feed the poor, heal the sick, share relationships and care for the broken-hearted. We each have our ways of rationalising the world in which we live. So we should hence be a touch careful before we polarise ourselves too far in one direction or the other. If my life is perfectly happy without understanding evolution than that's fine. And if my life is perfectly happy without any kind of faith then I would respect that too. But each side may never know when they might need the other.

And above all, we are all human and make mistakes, and I apologise if I have made any errors here. In this argument each side will naturally try to focus on the weaknesses of the other, but this would be an all too common error. In fact the weaknesses of humanity is one area where faithists (certainly Christians), game theorists and biologists are all very much on the same page!

A good read for understanding other arguments for the middle ground is 'The Language of God' by Francis Collins, top scientist and Christian. Also Cardinal Cormac O'Murphy wrote a good article in the Times on the same subject, prompted by the anniversary of Darwin.

Barabbas : Grace

Luke 23:13-25

13Pilate called together the chief priests, the rulers and the people, 14and said to them, "You brought me this man as one who was inciting the people to rebellion. I have examined him in your presence and have found no basis for your charges against him. 15Neither has Herod, for he sent him back to us; as you can see, he has done nothing to deserve death. 16Therefore, I will punish him and then release him."[c]

 18With one voice they cried out, "Away with this man! Release Barabbas to us!" 19(Barabbas had been thrown into prison for an insurrection in the city, and for murder.)

 20Wanting to release Jesus, Pilate appealed to them again. 21But they kept shouting, "Crucify him! Crucify him!"

 22For the third time he spoke to them: "Why? What crime has this man committed? I have found in him no grounds for the death penalty. Therefore I will have him punished and then release him."

 23But with loud shouts they insistently demanded that he be crucified, and their shouts prevailed. 24So Pilate decided to grant their demand.

My Topic today is the Death that brings life. Nowperhaps you're a little like I was at the age of about  17, and you reckon you're done with hearing about Jesus death. I'd been going along to the Christian Meeting at my school for a couple of years, and I'd noticed that the talk schemes seemed to come back round to talking about quite familiar themes, particularly Jesus' Death. I'd been to Iwerne in the summer as well, I'd heard quite a similar talks program there a couple of times in a row, and so I went up to Paul Williams who was running the meeting at the time.  "Mr. Williams, I feel like the content of the Christian meeting is a bit samey, and I think we should move onto some more complex issues. You know I'd really fancy a couple of philosophical, intellectual theological (those were the longest words I knew at the time) debates, you know, throw a couple of ideas around, instead of constantly talking about this Jesus' Death bit, which, to be frank, I'm sort of done with now".

I wonder, does anyone here feel like that.

If you do, just before you switch on the Autopilot, hear me out for a second. You see the Good news about Jesus death is the big story of History and it is the big story of every Christian life. I'll also dare to say that though we think we've heard it all before we don't fully understand it. Now don't get me wrong, you're all bright young sparks who probably got the technicalities in a couple of seconds. I sin, Jesus died on the cross, takes my punishment in my place, I have eternal life yadayadayada.

But knowing about Jesus death is not just technical knowledge. It's not just a question of getting how it works. It is a truth that has deep deep consequences. Consequences that we spend our lifetime discovering.

 Knowing about Jesus death is a bit like waking up at school on Monday morning and looking at your watch to see 9:30am on the dial.

First you look at it. 9:30. Nice. Half way in between 9 and 10. Hmm.

Your rub your eyes, scratch your head, look back at your watch.

NINE THIRTY!!!! AHHH! I've missed Biology with Mr. "I'm going to eat you anyway because you still haven't handed in your coursework" Smith, I have approximately minus  20 seconds to get all my clothes on find my Spanish folder from in front of the dining hall, learn for my vocab test, run back to my room to get my pen, and then turn up a dishevelled wreck ready for a beating in L3 on the second floor of the language block.

The technical bit you get straight away – you realise what the hands mean.  But 9:30 means a bit more than just, I just slept 10 hours. It takes a while for your brain to get fully into gear and work out the consequences, that you are up trouble creek without a paddle.

Jesus death is more than just technical info. It has life-long life-changing consequences. So we're going to meditate on Jesus now. Not in the arms outstretched lotus position 'om' sense of meditation, but in the Christian sense. We're going to think about it, but properly, So I'm going to pray, and ask God to soften our hard hearts that so often think they've heard it all before, and allow us to know a new sense of wonder and awe at the death of our Lord. And if you want that please pray for yourselves with me, as I pray that God would prepare each one of us to understand more deeply what it means that Jesus has died for us.

READ

Jesus death is a ludicrous exchange. The innocent is killed and the guilty go free.

Firstly. The innocent is killed.

Now Jesus has already done the rounds, he'd been to a Jewish court, been to see Herod, Now he's back, the case is no further, but Pilate must make a decision on Jesus' fate.

Pilate stands to speak, follow it in verse 14 "You brought me this man as one who was inciting the people to rebellion. I have examined him in your presence and have found no basis for your charges against him. 15Neither has Herod, for he sent him back to us; as you can see, he has done nothing to deserve death. 16Therefore, I will punish him and then release him."

Jesus is innocent. It was clear, after considerable consultation Jesus was clearly innocent of the charges brought against him.  But The people shout again, v18 "Away with this man,". No says Pilate, verse 22 he says he finds "no grounds for the death penalty" v23.

Nevertheless the people persist, and their shouts prevailed. 24So Pilate decided to grant their demand.

Extraordinary, Pilate condemned an innocent man to death.

His innocence:

But there's more. Jesus is not just not a criminal, as Pilate had found him to be. the Bible says "he knew no sin (2 cor 5:21)" and that he was "Tempted in all things as we are, yet without sin (Heb 4:15)". Not only was he innocent of insurrection, he was innocent of any crime, social or moral that there has ever been.

His punishment:

And his punishment. It was more even than a Roman cross. He wasn't just going to suffer the agony of asphyxiation, He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree" says the apostle Peter. So in his all our sin was condemned in him. – a bit like Big bang theory –the world is meant to start with all mass concentrated on a tiny extraordinarily heavy point , so in Jesus' death all our sin was condensed and the full weight borne in him. Right there on the cross.

A ludicrous exchange – the innocent is killed.

But then there's more to this ludicrous exchange. The innocent is killed for a purpose, namely that the Guilty go free.

The guilty go free

the guilty go free.

Barabbas was guilty, look at verse 19, in prison for insurrection, the very same crime of which Jesus was accused, and he was a murderer. He had taken another man's life. Crucifixion was the punishment he deserved.

But the crowd shout out in verse 18 "Release Barabbas to us", and despite Pilate's remonstration, v23 "their shouts prevailed".

So a convicted criminal, terrorist, freedom fighter, murderer facing certain crucifixion is released.

Our guilt:

And Of course it isn't just the guilty Barabbas who goes free.

We are guilty. Guilty as hell. The Roman law had found Barabbas wanting, but far less wanting than we are in the face of the heavenly law. You know, even before we get into the detail of what is required of us we know we fall short. Jesus summed up God's commands as wholehearted love for God and for our neighbour. But let's be honest that's just not us. We fail spectacularly at loving those around us for a start. We forget them, we ignore them, we take them for granted, we use them. And as for God – we treat him even worse than our mates, well let's just imagine we treated our friends like we treat God. We resolved to speak to them, but then fell asleep while doing so? We resolved to listen to them speak, but often end up staring into the middle distance dreaming about the guy or girl we fancy instead. We asked for their help, but rarely remembered to thank them for it. That would be a bad way to behave toward a friend, let alone God our creator. And yet, that is how we are, through and through.

Like Barabbas, we are guilty.

Our freedom:

Yet in this ludicrous exchange the guilty go free.

Imagine being Barabbas standing there in front of the baying crowd, manically jeering and heckling Pilate, scoffing at Jesus and asking for your freedom. On the face of it, you're the worst person on the stage, You can still see the face of the man you killed.  And yet you're the one getting the VIP treatment, you're the flavour of the month, and this guy Jesus whom you hardly know, but you can see enough of to know he's no criminal is going to get it. In fact that piece of wood that you were going to carry on your shoulders, his lifeless body will be pinned to that by evening, the whips hanging up in the barracks right now, that were going to burn into your back, they'll be for his now.

Can you imagine it? But that is us. Walking free with the taunting shouts of crucifixion directed at Jesus in the background. Free. Free from sin, free from punishment, free from death, free to serve, free to live, free to know God.

Jesus, The innocent is killed so we, the guilty go free.

The exchange

That's it – the ludicrous exchange.

It's like if you were holding your mobile phone somewhere in Notting Hill and randomly George Clooney or Angelina Jolie came up to you and said, I'm really sorry, I 've just got to make a phone call home, and I've forgotten my mobile, so I was just wondering whether if I give you 5 million pounds, and you can come to any of my premieres for free forever and mi casa es tu casa I could just borrow you phone.

Erm. 5 millions pounds, premieres forever, and tu casa es mi casa. In exchange for my phone? (count up on fingers) Sure.

A ludicrous exchange. Just like Jesus' death

Let me ask you, before we go any further Do you know that to be true for your life? It's simple – Jesus is willing to forgive all who put their trust in him. Have you done that.

But for all of us, that message is what we need to know, deeply, not just technically. As in not just ah it's 9:30am how unusual. But its 9:30 – get out of bed, find my Spanish folder etc.

And If realising it's 9:30 when you wake up has consequences for the whole day, knowing Christ crucified changes the whole of life.

There is so much to say, but I would just like to look at two aspects:

It means no pride, and it means no disgrace. Or to put it more directly a slap in the face and loving arms.

So firstly no pride – or – a slap in the face.

For those with false confidence the cross neatly whips the carpet of our own self-satisfaction out from under their feet.  It's a slap in the  face for the proud.

You see my pride would like to have the following obituary in the heavenly times; "Basically jfa was born, went around being a seriously good bloke, and Jesus and God took note of him, and all he'd done and said. Jfa's a good bloke he can join our good bloke posse up in heaven. And that's it - because of everything that jfa is and everything that he did, he ended up with eternal life – all thanks to jfa". That was I look really good.

But Jesus death leaves no room for pride.

No pride because It doesn't matter who you are

It doesn't matter who you are.

The cross means that as far as getting into God's good books it doesn't matter who you are. You could have a Christian family, go to a Christian school, be house prefect, CU secretary, that person whom everyone thinks is a really good bloke / blokette honestly.

Someone like Patricia Proud.

Hi I'm patricia I'm so fun, I'm so cool, everyone wants me at their party. God you would love to have me at yours as well. I have 1 million 432 thousand, 605 facebook friends and they all asked me to be their friend before I even touched my mouse.

I am brainy. You know I am going to one of the Christians where everyone goes, man – so cool and a Christian. Wow!

And I am seriously humble, like all that stuff I just said, that was only stuff other people told me anyway. Hang on – must go, so many texts to write so little time."

The cross is a slap in the face of Patricia's pride, there's no doubt about it. You see the real truth about her life is that she is so sick, so depraved in her being that Jesus had to die for her, no other way could she be rescued. Ouch!

It doesn't matter what you've done.

Secondly, no pride because it doesn't matter what you've done

Jesus isn't going to forgive you your sins because you've been on camp since you were 2 and you're been to every single reunion/ houseparty/ Christian Union meeting since then. Although if you have, that's an insanely good effort. Even if you have sat through more time in church than most people on the planet put together. That's not your qualification for heaven.

But I give blood, I always answer my texts, I pray, I read the bible. Sometimes.

And I'm good. I mean I'm so loyal. I have only one boyfriend, and we're going to marry, and I don't sleep with him, and I won't until we do.

Those things are not going to save us. To think that God accepts us because of them, To put our confidence in them is like serving up a cow pat for supper and thinking it'll be eaten just because you put some icing on the top.

This is what the cross teaches us. Like an icing sugar coated cow pat we may look sweet on top, but we are all disgusting inside. That is exactly why Jesus had to die.

Jesus' death means no Pride. A slap in the face. Ouch

No disgrace

But Jesus death also means no disgrace. The loving welcoming arms of God. You see for all the moments when we are so puffed up we're about to take off, I think there are just as many moments where we live in fear and humiliation.

Like: I'm just not in with the right crowd, I don't look as good, my Dad hasn't got as much cash as they have, I feel like I look frumpy not attractive, No one would stay in a room because I was there. I can't live up to the expectation of my parents and I know I'm going to disappoint in my exams. When people look through me or talk over me, I get the message. I am not needed on this planet.

We've all felt something of that at some time, have we not. And yet the cross means there is no disgrace., we never need to feel unwanted again. Once again, it doesn't matter who you are, and it doesn't matter what you've done.

It doesn't matter who you are.

It doesn't matter who you are. At the cross Jesus died for all. He died so that while we trust in him there is nothing in us that could ever be big enough to disqualify us from eternal life. No amount of self-hate can ever prise away the loving arms of God.

 'But I could never be one of those keen Christians – every time I come on Iwerne I'm surrounded by all these sorted keanos who thunder around full of confidence, I have the faith of a mouse, and a not very persuaded one at that.'

So we might think.

But let's not forget the exchange on that cross wasn't just for sorted white stuff wearing Iwerne keanos, it was for all including the very worst, the Barabbases of our world, which is everyone if we're going to be honest

Jesus' death means, no disgrace It doesn't matter who you are.

It doesn't matter what you've done

And it doesn't matter what you've done.

Do you remember the guy you eloped with at that party you wanted to sleep with, and you thought it fine at the time, but now you wince at the thought? Do you remember that web of lies you spun when you stole that thing, and your best friend still doesn't know. Do you remember the rage you got into last term, how you insulted that younger boy. How about when you were drunk the other weekend and your friend asked you what you were doing in the holidays and you deliberately said 'I'm going on this thing with my mates' so as to avoid mentioning that it's Christian because you're so ashamed of belonging to Jesus? Well I remember doing all of that sort of thing.

Perhaps we get so nervous – Will I get my A? Will I be picked for that team? Will I make it to head of house? Will I get into this posh university with all the colleges, because, my dad, my mum my grandpa and my dog all went there and if I don't my life will be a ruin and I'll just have to curl up in the corner of the great cave of mourning and groan for forty years.

Stop worrying, foolish heart. Because of Jesus death there is no disgrace.

Now I think that is just wonderful, because quite simply it lets me be real. At the cross, the very worst of me is laid bare for my heavenly father, the greatest moral authority there is, to see, and dealt with in Jesus, forever.

I can be real  - I don't have have to convince myself that what you have before you is a model citizen product of the best education system in the world with the whole world at his feet. No this, is a fowl excuse of an existence saved by the blood of Jesus. I know, because I have done what this body has done, and I have thought what this body has thought. But I can be real, because I'm not afraid of reality. What ever you learn of me, The judge of all time knows worse, and yet still STILL, I will be spending eternity with him.

Let's remember it then. The Innocent Jesus was killed, but guilty, you and I go free. That is and always will be the big story of our lives. We'll leave today, we'll help our mum do the washing up one day over Christmas and think all of sudden that we're the noblest thing since the round table – Bam No pride - You were born, you sinned, Jesus died for you.  Down you come. And then probably some relative will ask you at some family luncheon what you did on this conference, and you'll say something weedy like I had a lot of fun it was very interesting, and you'll go up to your room and think what a missed opportunity to share the gospel, Head up. It's for wretches like you that Jesus died so you could go free. And just because he loves you. That is and always will be, the big story of our lives. Let's know it, and know it deeply

Talk @ Radley Chapel Mid week :: Gayle Williams

Imagine if helping someone out, let’s say explaining to them what’s for prep, or helping them to understand something they missed, involved a 10% chance of losing a pound on your shop account. Would you still do it?
Or how about, Imagine if community service on Wednesday actually cost you extra. Let’s you had a 50% chance that you’d get kicked out of your rugby team as a result. Would you bother doing community service?
How about if you wanted to help out children with disabilities to learn to live with their disabilities, but it involved living with no protection in a war zone, in a culture where people like you are murdered every week. Would any of us do that?
Perhaps you’ve guessed today’s famous Christian already. Gayle Williams said yes to that last question. Only two weeks ago the British aid worker was alive, working with the poorest and most unfortunate of the children in Afghanistan, young boys and girls who had lost limbs to landmines and bombs, teaching them the basic skills needed to survive in a harsh and violent land.
10 days ago she was murdered by the Taleban while walking along a quiet, tree-lined street in Kabul on her way to work.
Gayle Williams dedication was remarkable. She lived to serve the people of Afghanistan. Her mother said, "Gayle was serving a people that she loved, and felt God called her to be there for such a time as this,"
Unlike many aid workers, she believed in living among the people she served, staying in a modest private house, shunning an armed escort in favour of using her own two feet. She made an easy target for the two gunmen who had been lying in wait for her.
Gayle Williams was committed to serve a country not her own and prepared to pay the price. Committed to such an extent she had already made clear her wish to be buried there. In the 19 th century missionaries would head off from England to Africa with their possessions packed in a coffin. There was no doubt they would not be coming back. and I suppose Gayle Williams was the modern equivalent.
But why? What would drive a person to such immense sacrifice. Many of us, I suppose would find it hard to live our whole lives abroad in France, let alone a 3rd world muslim culture, let alone one where life is far more precarious commodity. Why did she do it?
The Chairman of her Charity, Mike Lyth said: "We are Christian - that is what gives us the motivation to go into a dangerous and difficult country to try to help”
The words we have just read in our reading, I imagine were quite familiar to Ms Williams. “
5Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus:
6Who, being in very nature[a] God,
did not consider equality with God something to be grasped,
7but made himself nothing,
………
he humbled himself
and became obedient to death—
even death on a cross!

Why did she do it? I can see at least three reasons in those verses. A role model and reason and a resource for her sacrifice.
A role model in Jesus Christ. Gayle Williams’ Lord had relinquished the glory of heaven to come down to earth for mankind. Couldn’t she relinquish the comforts of her materially wealthy and secure existence for the people of Afghanistan. I wonder couldn’t we?
A reason. Another famous missionary once said, “If Christ be God and died for me, then no sacrifice can be too great for me to make for Him”. I wonder can we identify with that?
A resource. Surely very few men or women could pluck up the courage to do this alone. Her mother again. Gayle “died doing what she felt the Lord had called her [to] and she is definitely with him”. God had called her and equipped her to do the job. She found it not in herself but in Christ to do this thing.

Talk @ Saygo :: Jesus is King :: 2 Samuel 7

The Promises of God

This term we’re looking at God’s promises through the bible. You could say the bible is a record of God’s faithfulness. It’s all about how God makes promises and keeps them.

In the first week we saw how powerful God’s words alone were. He spoke the universe into being. Then we saw his promise that after Adam and eve rebelled against him in the garden, they’d have to work the ground hard to get food out of it to survive, there’d be pain in child bearing, and they would eventually die. Since then we’ve heard about how God promised to Abraham to bless all people through his offspring beginning to reverse the effects of what happened in the Garden, how God later promised to save the Israelites from slavery in Egypt, and then he did. We’ve learnt how God promised to be with his people in the desert. Every time God makes a promise he keeps it.

Today we’re jumping forward a few hundred years forward and  we’re going to look at a promise, God’s promise to David, king of Israel.

I want to focus just on verses 12-13 today.

This is what God said to king David.

When your days are over and you rest with your fathers, I will raise up your offspring to succeed you, who will come from your own body, and I will establish his kingdom. 13 He is the one who will build a house for my Name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever.

So there’s going to be a son of David whose kingdom will last forever. There’s going to be a son of David whose kingdom will last forever.

Great news for God’s people. 

But hang on. God said there’s going to be a son of David whose throne will last forever. Forever, as in starting from when he said it to now – and then on until forever in the future.

Can any one see an obvious problem there? 

What kind of a man was ever going to fulfil that? How was God ever going to fulfil his promise of a King if he had to chose from among men? 

Well that promise has not remained unfulfilled. The kingdom of David will remain forever, because Jesus has taken up that throne never to relinquish it. Jesus is the promised King. [SLIDE][SLIDE]

That’s my main point this evening, and if you take nothing else home with you this evening, remember that. JESUS is KING. [SLIDE]

How do we know it was Jesus God was speaking about? Well Jesus is the fulfilment of the Old Testament. He said that about himself, and the apostles believed that about him too. [SLIDE] Look at what Paul says. “For no matter how many promises God has made, they are "Yes" in Christ” 2 Cor 1:20. The OT is full of promises waiting to be fulfilled. Questions waiting to be answered. Jesus is where the promises come true, he is the answer to every one.  

Take this for example. What did God say to David about the promised King in verse 14? “I will be his father, and he will be my son”. Hmm. How about when Jesus rocked up. As he came out of the water after his baptism, a voice rang out in from the heavens “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased."

Still not convinced this verse in 2 Samuel is fulfilled in Jesus? Well look at verse 12 ‘I will raise up your offspring to succeed you’.  And Jesus is indeed a son of David. Have you ever wondered why there are long lists of who was whose father and so on in the bible? [SLIDE] It’s because the writers want us to know that Jesus is in David’s line. Jesus’ great great ….grandad was David. It all fits into the promise. But there’s more. God had said “I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever.” No man could fulfil that. But[SLIDE] Jesus burst through the grave and out the other side to live for ever. There will be no end to Jesus.  Jesus is the one who rules on God’s throne, for ever. 

So [SLIDE] Jesus is King. [SLIDE]And that has some big consequences.

Let’s get back to our far away island, Archibaldina and Enry the extra terrestrial.

There’s no doubt in your mind. You Archibaldina know the Arrival of a Monarch requires action. [SLIDE]Her position, [SLIDE]her presence and [SLIDE] her power demand you do something.  Because of where she is in hierarchy, because of who she is as a person  and because of what she can do, the Queen requires a particular response. When the queen comes, you can’t just [SLIDE] whack on your swimmers and go and do beach yoga like nothing’s any different.. [SLIDE] Oh no

[SLIDE] It’s the same with Jesus. If Jesus is King because of  his position, his presence and his power, because of where he stands in the order of creation, because of who he is and because of what he can do [SLIDE] we can’t just ignore him and carry on life as if he didn’t exist. [SLIDE] Jesus is King and requires a response. We’re going to look in turn at these three

So firstly, Jesus the King’s position.

The Queen arrives at the hotel, and the first thing you notice is that before you see anything of the queen loads of other people start flooding the building. The PAs and administrators making sure that all the right people are lined up for when she comes. The peculiar lady who comes and checks the loos are decent for when the queen gets in a spot of gastronomic bother. Each one of them carrying out the Queen’s wishes.

You see the Queen has a privileged position. Because of where she is in hierarchy, it is her place to give orders. The whole Island belongs to her. You just do what she says.

And so with Jesus. [SLIDE]Jesus has the highest, most privileged position. (you and me for comparison) He’s the King over all the earth. On that basis alone, because of his position, because he is so much higher than us, because he is so the top of the pile and we so aren’t, because every person, indeed every molecule owes its existence to him. [SLIDE] We should obey him.

Let me ask, do we believe Jesus is King? So are we prepared to obey him? For example, though of course this isn’t all there is to say, Not to join in the gossip about others at school, not to laugh at those who are weak, not to have sex until we marry, not to get drunk with our mates? Or actively, to sit next the person everyone else has written off in class, to honour our parents decisions, to take care of the new kids this year.  Put it this way. If Jesus says do one thing, and I want to do another. Which one do I end up doing? Because of Jesus position we should obey him.

[SLIDE] Second, Jesus the King’s presence.

This was something you, Archibaldina really struggled to explain to enry the extraterrestrial before the queen showed. ‘You’ll just feel it’, you said, ‘she’ll have an aura, a sort of force field around her. Wherever she goes there’ll be like an invisible cloud of significance all around her. People tend to stare, they go wobbly at the knees and make ridiculous sentences with words in the wrong order. They know they’re in the presence of greatness, and that makes everything different. You feel you owe her something somehow. You catch yourself automatically bowing your head in honour…”

Well if that’s a fair description of what it’s like in the presence of an earthly monarch, how much more being the presence of God’s King. And actually that’s where we are now, and at any time in fact. Perhaps you’ve had a glimpse of what it’s like to be in the royal presence of King Jesus. 

I wonder, do we [slide] honour Jesus in his presence? Or do we talk of him lightly even dismissively.  For Christ’s sake, Jesus Christ. That’s the name of our ruler and judge were dialling up there.  

Now don’t get me wrong it’s good not to take ourselves too seriously, we don’t want to prim and proper hypocrites, but do we ever make a joke of Jesus? Perhaps we’re tempted to laugh about his words in the bible, perhaps we joke about prayer, far more likely we’re just indifferent, unimpressed unmoved when he speaks. Does that honour Jesus? Have we ever sat there listening to his word, but our thoughts are somewhere else completely. Have we ever been challenged by him but instead of responding ignored him.

Jesus presence means we should honour him.

[SLIDE] Finally Jesus the King’s power.

Jesus is powerful.

Modern monarchs may be fairly powerless when it comes down to it. These days they command respect but not armies.

Not Jesus. Jesus is truly powerful. The bible says that he will come back not in humble form of an infant, but on the clouds of heaven with authority, glory and sovereign power to judge all peoples. [SLIDE] We may not see that now, but there’ll be a day [SLIDE] when there will be no doubt[SLIDE][SLIDE] Those who have recognised his rule, he will spare but those who don’t he will say I do not know you and throw them where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth. [SLIDE] Jesus is truly powerful and we are right to fear Him. We don’t need to scared, not frightened because his awesome power works for those who fear him, not against them, but we should fear him.

I couldn’t put it better than C.S. Lewis when he describes how Eustace met the Lion Aslan. Aslan is the Christ figure in the book.

Eustace, who has been cursed and made into a dragon says,  ``Well, anyway, I looked up and saw the very last thing I expected: a huge lion coming slowly towards me. And one queer thing was that there was no moon last night, but there was moonlight where the lion was. So it came nearer and nearer. I was terribly afraid of it. You may think that, being a dragon, I could have knocked any lion out easily enough. But it wasn't that kind of fear. I wasn't afraid of it eating me, I was just afraid of it - if you can understand. Well, it came closer up to me and looked straight into my eyes. And I shut my eyes tight. But that wasn't any good because it told me to follow it.''

``You mean it spoke?''

``I don't know. Now that you mention it, I don't think it did. But it told me all the same. And I knew I'd have to do what it told me, so I got up and followed it.

[LAST SLIDE]

God promised a King whose kingdom would never fall. Jesus is that King. Let’s obey him, honour him and fear him.

PRAY

Talk @ Radley. Tempus Fugit - Do what counts Matthew 6:19-21

Imagine you were going to be dead in two years from now. Each minute of your existence eating into the 730 remaining days of your life on this earth. If you knew your life were going to end at that point, do you think you would have behaved differently today.

Would you still have had a lie in? Would you have gone to shop and bought a chicken roll for your mate as well? Would you still have worked on your coursework? Would you still not have worked on your coursework? Would you have played more or less cod? Would you have rung up the girl you’ve never rung up but always wanted to? Would you have prayed more or less? What would you have done differently if you knew time was short?

My cousin-in-law Johnny was a strapping lad just like you lot. Tall, strong, good looking, a great sense of humour and I guess many would have said, with the world at his feet. Not three weeks before his funeral he had been on a beach holiday celebrating his A level

results, looking forward to a fun-packed gap year in South America .

On coming home he fell ill and tragically died a few days later in late August  this year. He was 18.

Johnny’s death hit us hard as a family, but it left its mark even beyond the heart wrenching grief of losing a loved one. It gave a profound sense of “Tempus fugit”. “Time flies” or better translated “Time flees”.

2 years is about the average distance in age between you boys and Johnny. It’s  possible that one of us here has only 2 years left.  And when an end is insight boy does time fly.  Think of those dying minutes for Australia v Wales on Saturday. After that last minute try the wallabies must have felt every last slippery second of that match run away as they looked for just three more points before the whistle.

The fact is whether we have 90 minutes, 2, 20 or 80 years left, it makes no difference. At some point in life we will be counting the days, and asking ourselves what we’ve done with what we had.

“Tempus fugit” and That begs the question. What is it that really counts? What are we to do with all these minutes that we have? What constitutes a moment well spent and what’s a moment wasted?

 On the rugby field it’s pretty clear what counts. There a few rules that say stuff like if you chuck the inflatable oval thing on the floor and then boot it and it goes through the middle of the great big poles you get three points on your score board, Bottom line - what counts is the score at the end. A good minute is one that adds to the scoreboard.

How about in the game of life? What if anything, is the stuff that really counts? When the final whistle blows what are we left with? What will be forgotten and what will remains?

Is it possible to get it wrong? Like the skills show off in a game of football. You know how annoying it is, you’re out for an intersocial game of footy down the stro, and it turns out you’ve got the guy who’s obsessed with his own skills. Every time he gets the ball, he’s got plenty of options, he could lay it down the left wing, cross it over to the gap on the far side, but it’s head down and off he dribbles. I mean he’s not bad, he manages to shimmy past a couple of defenders but in the end he always holds onto it for too long and you lose possession. It’s just frustrating isn’t it? The point of the game is to score. When you go back to social no one’s going to ask you how were your skills. You don’t get points in football for leg work, it’s balls in the net that count.

How about in the game of life? Is it possible that in some way we live life like the skills show off, missing what counts. It looks good, we’re skilful, the centre of attention, in fact better than many people at a whole load of stuff, hockey, partying, lying,  going to church, schmoozing, bantering, philosophising, sacrificing, what ever it is, but we don’t ever get what really counts. So we get to the end of life and the scoreboard is empty.

What is it that counts in life?

Jesus said,

"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. 20But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. 21For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

So there are things that last. There is a final scoreboard, so to speak, and it’s different from what we see and get now.

There are “treasures on earth” stuff that we want that looks good, but doesn’t last.  Fortune, Fame, Fashion. Fortune -We can’t take our cash, our car, or our castle with us when we die – even if we give them to our kids, they can’t either. Fame - even the coolest, most popular, most well known amongst us, even if they manage to escape besmirching by the sun will eventually be forgotten, and Fashion? well just like shell bedtime when you get to heaven you have to leave your ipod and your phone in a box at the door and no one really minds whether you have a David Beckham Mohican or not.

On the other hand, said Jesus, there are “treasures in heaven”. Stuff that you or I can do now which lasts for eternity, stuff that ends up on the final scoreboard of our lives, and from which we will benefit eternally. Treasure in heaven is what really counts.

How do I get it? I’m out of time, so perhaps you could take that one on yourself. May I humbly suggest you start your search with this book.

Gentlemen, let me wish you a happy, meaningful, Christmas, where we all learn to fill the elusive time of your lives with things that count.

 Finish with Prayer

“Before the mountains were born or you brought forth the earth and the wolrd, from everlasting to everlasting you are God. You turn men back to dust, for a thousand years in our sight are like a day that has just gone by, or like a watch in the night.

Teach us to number our days aright that we may gain a heart of wisdom”