Just pretend I'm not here

A parent wanders into a room where their offspring is engaged in some activity. The offspring pauses, hoping the parent will take the hint and leave. The parent carries on with some business in the background saying, "Just pretend I'm not here."

It doesn't work. People behave differently when other people are around. Daughters pause the DVD they are watching whilst their father is in the room. Drivers watch the speedometer carefully whilst the police car is visible in the rear view mirror. Employees are circumspect about their opinions on the workplace whilst the boss is lurking in earshot.

Perhaps that is why God chooses not to make his presence felt for so much of our lives. He doesn't want us to feel that we have to be on our best behaviour because we are being watched. Perhaps he is waiting for us to get to know him well enough that we welcome his presence and long to have him around us - as lovers do for their beloved. Then, when we are living to please him because we want to please him and not because we are nervous of his disapproval, he will make his presence known more clearly.

(above thoughts inspired by John Ortberg's book "The me I want to be")

Living as if God were real

I shall try not to make this sound as if I'm having a crisis of faith, but for some time now I've been having a crisis of faith - sort of.

Richard Dawkins and people of his ilk are to blame. They argue strongly that God is not real and all experiences of him are just a delusion. My problem is that although I don't think they are right, I'm not 100% sure. The human mind is such a strange and complex thing that it strikes me as possible (though highly unlikely) for some kind of God-awareness to develop even if no God exists.

So I've been trying to ignore my niggling doubt and just get on with living as a Christian, trusting the God revealed in Jesus, saying my prayers, preaching the gospel, sharing God's love and so on. But the niggling doubt hasn't entirely gone away. This morning I think I've found (or been given by God) a logical argument which will banish that doubt. I can explain it best via a computer game. Mario Kart Wii would do as an example.

At the very basic level computer systems are just lot of binary bits being manipulated. Images on screen are just a bunch of dots. Yet out of these low level systems other higher level features emerge. I open and close windows (on my Mac) as if they were 'real' objects. I choose characters on Mario Kart Wii and steer them (often unsuccessfully) around racecourses. Some scientists would argue that human consciousness is 'merely' a higher level feature which emerges from lots of low level activity (i.e. the firing of neurons in the brain).

And here's my insight: Whether such higher level features are 'real' or not, it's good to act as if they do exist. When I play Mario Kart Wii I couldn't care less that the characters are just a collection of pixels. I drive that Kart as if something 'real' was taking place. I even apply this principle to human relationships. I know that in conversation with someone both our words are being shaped by firing of neurons in the brain and twitching of assorted muscles in the mouth and throat. Yet I act as if there was a 'real' human mind in my interlocutor communicating information to me. In fact I would go as far as to say that to all intents and purposes the Karts and racecourses on the Wii and the human personalities in the people I meet DO exist. I interact with them. I enjoy interacting with them. This is what life is about.

Why should I not approach my faith in God in the same way. OK, the possibility still exists that my faith only arises out of the peculiar complexity of the human brain. But so what! My faith exists. God is as at least as real as any of the above 'higher level features' which I've been describing. There is no point harbouring that niggling doubt any longer. However it has come about, God is part of my life and I ought to get on with loving him and serving him. Which will be far more fun and far more rewarding than managing to drive around the Rainbow Road three times without falling off.

A life cut short

During his ministry, Jesus seems to have taken special care to train up a privileged inner core of disciples, consisting of just three men. For example, they were the only ones (other than her parents) allowed to see him raise the daughter of Jairus; they were the only ones who saw him transfigured on the mountain and talking with Moses and Elijah; they were the only ones invited to accompany him in his anguished prayer in the garden of Gethsemane.

This level of intimacy was clearly an important preparation for their ministry. Peter became the first spokesman of the disciples and was a key figure (arguably THE key figure) in the early days of the church. John had a long ministry and (at least according to tradition) was writing well into his old age, recording for us the life of Jesus in his gospel, giving us a glimpse behind the scenes in his book of Revelation, and dispensing vital wisdom about love in his letters.

And James? He did very little of note and then was killed in the first wave of persecution. What a waste! In fantasy fiction some authors (I'm thinking of George R R Martin and Brent Weeks) seem to delight in killing off major characters just as they are about to fulfil their potential. As a reader this is immensely frustrating. You journey with the character through all the hardships of his early life, see his character being moulded, rejoice as he overcomes difficulties, and then just as he has developed into a great leader and you are looking forward to reading of his great deeds, up pops an assassin of some kind and swiftly despatches him from the story.

Having noticed that James was the same kind of character - full of potential, trained for greatness, then his life cut tragically short - I couldn't at first see what I might learn from the insight. Then I realised fantasy fiction may provide an answer. One effect of reading books by the authors I've mentioned is that, if you know the author is not afraid to kill off major characters you are genuinely worried when other well-liked characters are in danger.

The early death of James shows that there are no guarantees in the Christian life. To take my own life as an example: Just because I have been trained and moulded for ordained ministry doesn't mean that I get to fulfil my potential. And I'm not thinking now of premature departure from this life, I'm thinking of how easily I could let all the potential go to waste through my own actions (or inaction). Just because God called me to ministry, and has given me some of the gifts and graces needed for the work, doesn't mean I can rest on my laurels and expect everything to be hunky-dory. James reminds me that even those with the greatest potential don't always live to fulfil it. When people look back at my life, will they say 'he started well; shame he never lived up to that early potential'?

Restoration

The book "Fathered by God" has stirred me up somewhat. The author's enthusiasm for fly-fishing, hunting (with guns) and dangerous mountain climbing is a long way from my own (current) passions for cryptic crosswords, fantasy literature and board games. But I was intrigued by the idea of a man (yes, it's a book aimed at men) needing to grow through the stages of cowboy, warrior, lover, king and sage.

Where am I on that scale? My vocation has brought me responsibility for the spiritual well-being of two churches, not to mention rest of the Methodist circuit. I should be of the age and experience to be a king, and soon ready to dispense the life-long wisdom of a sage. But I'm not convinced I'm ready. I've not been tested as a warrior by hard spiritual battles on the way. I still find pleasure (see above list of passions) in the simple adventures of the cowboy.

I also felt a little envious of the author's apparent ability to hear answers from God when he had prayed. Why doesn't God speak to me like that? Well yesterday he did. I almost missed it as I was reading through the Old Testament lectionary reading for the coming Sunday. But something made me stop and re-read Jeremiah 15:19. It sounded very much as if God was speaking to me and giving me hope that it's not too late to change - for example, to let go of my addiction to trivial leisure pursuits and use the time more wisely in taking up more important spiritual challenges.

"Therefore this is what the Lord says: If you repent, I will restore you that you may serve me; if you utter worthy, not worthless, words, you will be my spokesman."

We are not alone

This is one of those obvious things everybody knows, but which doesn't always sink in. We are not alone. Or to be more accurate: the thought which has gradually penetrated my skull this morning (as I was reading about God acting as a father to us) is that "I am not alone". Most of my life I behave as if everything was up to me either to sort out or to put up with. This is not true. The point of having a heavenly Father is that he actively wants to help me. He wants to show me the best path to follow. He wants to give me the knowledge and experience I need to walk that path. He wants to join me on the journey and do for me some of the things I can't (yet) do for myself.

Hopefully, by writing down these basic and already-known truths, I will remember the full impact of them. Even in such a mundane job as going through the accumulated post (the next task looming large on the horizon) God is with me to guide, train and participate.

People Need Jesus

I've just returned from a hugely encouraging 'Churches Together' AGM. The keynote speaker was a Baptist minister sharing with us all that God has been doing through churches working together in Winchester.

One phrase which struck me powerfully (and hence I need to record it) is the answer to the question of what we can unite around. Not our ecclesiology. Not our theology. But our mission. To quote the speaker: "If you agree with me that people need Jesus, then we can work together." I think that is an excellent phrase to unite around.

It may be that some see Jesus as the only one who can save people from eternal damnation. It may be that some see Jesus as the one who welcomes all people into God's unconditional love. It may be that some believe Jesus is encountered best through bread and wine, and some believe he is encountered best in the service of others. But surely one thing that all Christians can agree on is that people need Jesus. To disagree would be to say that people can cope with life perfectly well without Jesus - which is surely not a Christian viewpoint.

Anyway, the phrase has reminded me what mission is all about. People need Jesus. So what am I doing to help people recognise that need and discover the difference that Jesus can make?

A kick up the backside

Life is good. I am very contented. I have no major worries. Family, health, finance - all ticking along nicely.

I perceive this as something of a problem, highlighted by the question "These days what am I passionate about?" I would find it difficult to come up with an honest answer which didn't make me sound idle and self-centred. (Possible answers include trivial pastimes on the computer and organising my iPod - as I said, nothing which puts me in a good light.) I know what I ought to be passionate about - communicating the gospel; being a follower of Christ; helping make this world a better place. So why don't these things stir me and motivate me?

OK, let's not paint too harsh a picture: Yes, they do stir me a bit. But not nearly enough.

I once read a prayer (it's in one of my books somewhere and I'm sure I'll come across it again one day) which ended with the heartfelt plea, "Give us a kick up the backside, Lord." I need to make that my own personal prayer...

Lord, shake me out of my contentment. Stir me up. Ignite my fire. Renew my passion. I realise that for this to happen it may mean some big problem or issue landing on my lap, but if that's what it takes, then so be it. I could happily drift along like this indefinitely, but it wouldn't be good for me, and it wouldn't do much to advance the cause of the kingdom. So give me a kick up the backside, Lord. May the next blog entry be one in which I record that I have been well and truly kick-started!

When did the universe fall?

Thanks to Michael Lloyd’s book Cafe Theology I have begun to redefine my views on the doctrine of a fallen creation. He has helped me overcome what I thought was an insurmountable obstacle.

My old view was this: Suffering and pain is an unavoidable part of the universe. God’s creation is vast and intricate. He has produced a cosmos in which the basic forces and elementary particles combine to produce a range of elements, coalescing over billions of years into stars and planets. He has created the fundamental laws of nature by which life has gradually involved into the world we now know and love. Unfortunately the process by which life is formed includes planetary upheavals such as earthquakes, volcanoes and hurricanes. The mutations which are vital to the evolution of human beings also give rise to disease and disability.

Just as you can’t have a system of mathematics which has only even numbers and no odd numbers, I cannot see how it is scientifically possible to have a universe in which life in all its glory exists but without any form of destruction or chaos or pain. My daughter asked me many years ago “Why did God make the wind?” This was said as a complaint because she was finding it difficult to walk against a strong headwind. But the question prompted me to think how, if I were God, I would organise the world so that the air never moved at more than say 20 mph (a bracing, but non-destructive rate of motion.) Given that air currents are a consequence of a spinning planet and the unequal warming effects of the sun, I concluded that the only ways to avoid strong winds would be to create beings capable of surviving in no atmosphere, or to change fundamentally the laws of physics such that gravity and light behaved differently so we could live on a flat earth.

I was reasonably happy with my conclusion. My view that natural disasters or diseases were simply an essential part of the fabric of creation helped to answer the question “Why does God allow earthquakes?” The answer: “Because without earthquakes the earth would be a barren rock and life would not exist.” And similar answers could be given for all other forms of suffering. Even God in all his wisdom couldn’t produce a system of laws which gave rise to life but didn’t allow for any harmful consequences.

But I recognised one big problem with this view. I was essentially arguing that our universe is the best possible one God could have created. No other kind of universe could give rise to living creatures. So what about heaven? My concept of heaven is that it is a perfect place – no more tears, no more pain, no more death – and it is more real, more physical, more solid than our present existence. The present universe is a pale shadow of the new creation God has in store for us. But if God can create a perfect heaven – a place where life is lived to the full without any of the drawbacks of earth – then this present universe is not after all the best God could have come up with. You see my dilemma?

Michael Lloyd’s view is that this universe is NOT how God intended it to be. The doctrine of the fall shows that God doesn’t always get what he wants. He wanted Adam and Eve to leave a particular fruit untouched. Instead they ate it. Even if we take this story as a metaphor, the principle is surely correct. God doesn’t want people to suffer. He didn’t plan for earthquakes or diseases. So what went wrong?

To say that we humans are to blame because we have made wrong choices is only part of an answer. God made us as free agents. He wants us to love one another. If we choose not to love one another, then people get hurt. Murder (for example) is not God’s wish or God’s plan. You can explain some suffering as a consequence of God loving us enough to give us freedom. And this is real freedom – he doesn’t step in to interfere whenever we choose to act in a hurtful way. But you can’t explain tsunamis or cancer in those terms.

Violence, geological upheaval, carnivorousness, disease, destruction and death – these have been around for much longer than human beings, and do seem (as I argue above) to be part of the fabric of the universe. So if the universe itself is not as God really intended, something must have gone wrong at a very early stage.

There are hints of this in the Biblical narrative. The serpent was clearly up to mischief, working against God before the fall of Adam and Eve. Also, part of God’s purpose for the human race was to “subdue” the earth (Genesis 1:28) which implies that creation was not quite what God yet wanted – it needed someone to take control and make it as it should be.

Lloyd’s suggestion is based on the assumption that the physical universe is not the only thing in existence. There is a spiritual dimension to reality, inhabited by spiritual creatures who (like us) have been given free will and work with God in all his activities. Before the dawn of time, some of these ‘angels’ (to use the traditional term for them) chose to work against God. The ‘fall’ had already taken place before God’s creation began. Hence the universe, though essentially good (Genesis 1:30), had a flawed streak running through it. Part of the role of men and women was to mend this flaw and bring creation to perfection. We have failed to do this and instead chosen to act in ways which have made the situation worse.

However, all is not lost. God’s ultimate plan is for a world in which the lion and the lamb can coexist peacefully, and he has shown us in Jesus what it means to tackle the flawed nature of the world head on. Jesus cured disease, made the disabled whole and even took control over the wind and the waves. His reaction to the storm was not “oh well, it’s an inevitable part of creation that we just have to put up with”; it was “Peace! Be still!”

So my view has changed. And hopefully for the better. No longer should I shrug my shoulders at natural disaster or disease and say “well it’s the downside of living in an environment that can produce life”. Instead I should resist all forms of suffering as Jesus did, saying “This is not as it should be. This is not what God wanted. How can I help to put it right?”

I am still left with some deep philosophical and scientific questions. I’m not quite sure about the nature of heaven. What is the perfect world God is going to bring about? Is it an entirely new order of creation based on even more awesome laws of nature which I can’t possibly imagine? Or is it a version of our present universe with its flaws fixed? And if the latter in what way can they be fixed? Will human beings be able to turn off storms at will whenever they threaten to be too destructive? Will lions become herbivores?

But I’ve spent quite long enough already. Leaving such questions on one side... my shift of thinking is from “Suffering is unfortunate but it’s not God’s fault because it’s an inevitable consequence of a universe which can produce life” to “Suffering is not an inevitable part of the universe. God didn’t want it and is doing everything possible (short of removing our freedom) to defeat suffering and create a better world.”

- - - - -

Further thoughts in answer to the questions in the penultimate paragraph:

(I tried to add this as a comment but it was way too long)

Consider the game of chess. A playing board, 32 pieces and a few simple rules. Yet from this comes an immense variety of game-play, not to mention books, tournaments, conventions, periodicals and grand masters. It’s amazing that simple laws can give rise to such fascinating, enjoyable and meaningful complexity. There is joy and fulfilment in outwitting your opponent. There is also disappointment and frustration when the game goes against you. The rules of chess have given rise to the pleasure of winning and the pain of losing. Would it be possible to have a different set of rules which led to all players experiencing the thrill of winning and no player downcast at having lost? It seems unlikely.

My view of the present universe is that it is like the game of chess. A few basic components and a few rules about how they interact – but all created so well that they give rise to beauty, variety, life, relationships, pleasure and pain. The fact that God can come up with simple laws of nature that lead eventually to people enjoying such diverse pleasures as sex, chocolate and The Lord of the Rings – well it’s mind-bogglingly awesome. The trouble is that those same rules lead to supernova, venomous snakes and swords. Would it be possible for God to create a different set of rules which led to just as much variety, complexity, wonder and joy in the universe, but without anything detrimental?

Yesterday my answer would have been no. This awesome universe is as good as it gets. There are no conceivable laws which will produce only pleasure and never pain. As I indicated above the problem with this answer is that if God can’t do it for earth, he can’t do it for heaven either. If there’s no better possible universe, then this one is what we’re stuck with.

Today I have two possible answers. Both effectively saying yes.

a) Just because I cannot conceive of new rules which would fit the bill, doesn’t mean such rules are impossible. Maybe there are a set of rules by which the universe could have come into being as a perfect place with no hint of sorrow or suffering in any part of creation. Such rules would have to be even more awesome than our existing laws of nature. Scientists exploring such a new creation would be even more gob-smacked than they are now at the beautiful way in which everything hangs together.

b) The rough and tumble nature of the universe wasn’t really a problem before life came into being. Stardust being sucked into black holes and volcanoes vomiting clouds of ash is hardly what you would call ‘suffering’ because inanimate matter doesn’t suffer. It is people who feel pain, not rocks. (Though there is a debate to be had as to quite where you draw the line at defining suffering – a dog going hungry? a flea going hungry? a bacterium being destroyed by an anti-body (or whatever it is that destroy bacteria)? a grapevine being pruned?) Basically it is only when life (arguably the higher form of animal life) developed that you could talk about the world being a place in which creatures suffered.

So maybe God’s perfect idea of creation is not radically different from what we have now. It started off the same, but in God’s ideal world human life would somehow rise above the problems and subdue them and experience pure joy. Imagine an accomplished hang-glider going out in the roughest possible winds. The elements can be massively chaotic and threatening and the hang-glider experiences nothing but joy and exhilaration as she navigates the currents.

Is that an image which illustrates how we should somehow get on top of creation and enjoy it to the full without fear or pain? And if so, how can that be possible in the circumstances? We can overcome much suffering through the ordinary means at our disposal (our words and actions), but not all.

Perhaps God’s plan is for us to be like Jesus in having the ability to impose our will directly on creation. What this means in scientific terms is that we would have the power to change the rules. The built-in laws of the universe say that the wind and the waves are going to move in this particular dangerous and disruptive way, but when they threaten our safety we can say “that’s enough! stop it!” and the universe itself bends to our command. The built-in laws say that these leg muscles have wasted away and won’t function, but we can say “walk!” and the cells and sinews and chemicals in the body will adjust to enable a lame man to walk.

When things happen which ‘break’ the laws of nature we call it a miracle. Perhaps miracles are no more than imposing a higher law. I’m not wanting to move into the realms of ESP and telekinesis and mind over matter and all that. I’m just speculating. Jesus was so in tune with God that he was able to bring to bear God’s loving purposes (safety for the disciples; health for the sick) in direct contradiction to the way the universe would ‘normally’ behave. And he promised we would do greater things.

So is it not that the problematic pain-containing universe needs fixing, but rather that it needs taming? And is it the Spirit of God working through us that can accomplish that? Allowing us to be so in tune with God’s ultimate purposes that we can participate in exercising conscious and loving control over the wildness of the universe?

And what if we could all exercise such control? The image springs to mind of a world populated by powerful magicians who can do what they want with a spoken word – but that’s not the picture I’m trying to describe. If life was just like now but with everyone having power over nature, there would still be arguments, factions, disagreements, curses etc etc. That’s not the kind of world God wants any more than I do.

The kingdom is where God’s rule is acknowledged, where people love one another freely and self-sacrificially, where everyone finds joy in living life to the full and experiences relationships with one another and with God as they were intended to be. In such a context disease and disaster would not be allowed to intrude and spoil things. The potential for suffering might still be ever-present, built into the very fabric of the universe, but as soon as any kind of problem started to raise its ugly head, someone would take responsibility to say (on God’s behalf) “Stop it! None of that!”

Now that truly would be heaven.

Servant ministry

At today's ministers fellowship we were discussing how to integrate leadership and servanthood. And it dawned on me that I have lost any kind of passion for serving others. Perhaps that's putting it too strongly, but when I examine my motives for the things I do during an average day there are an awful lot of selfish motives. I think about what I'm going to eat, what music I'm going to listen to, whether I can fit in an after-dinner nap. Even the things I do as a minister are motivated by thoughts like "if I visit this person I won't feel guilty about not visiting" or "if I prepare this service well enough I won't end up looking like a total idiot".

What gets me out of bed in a morning? The opportunity to serve others? The opportunity to serve Christ? No, it's the opportunity to enjoy another day doing largely pleasant things. I've returned home with the desire to re-orientate my motives. If each moment I asked myself what I can do to please God, or what I can do to help others (the two answers will have a large overlap), then I will be far more likely to be acting as a servant should, instead of a self-centred hedonist.

As we prayed in pairs at the end of the meeting I was going to ask for prayer to help me be more of a servant. But my colleague had family concerns which needed prayer and support, so I didn't get time to say anything about myself. On reflection this was a good start. Forget self. Focus on others.

Saved from my own incompetence

We all slept late this morning for some reason. As I was emerging into consciousness a thought came to me out of the blue. "Didn't I agree to lead an assembly sometime at a local school? I don't remember seeing it coming up in my diary." At 8:40 I got up, splashed some water on my face and wandered into my study to set my mind at rest regarding the assembly. No sign of it on iCal (the MacBook diary which is usually such a reliable guide to my life). So where would I have any record of it? A search through the pile of papers on my desk brought to light a note which said "Monday 20th September, Assembly at 9:00" I glanced at the clock. 8:48 am. At this point I was still in my pyjamas and, not having done a school assembly for over a year, with nothing prepared.

Twelve minutes later I arrived at the school with a rough outline of an interactive talk in my head. My biggest concern was a totally dry throat which meant I was having difficulty talking. Fortunately there was a water dispenser right outside the hall...

So thank you, Lord, for a) the thought which popped into my mind as I woke b) a parking space within one minute's jog of the school entrance c) a water dispenser in exactly the right place and d) the positive feedback from an extremely hastily prepared talk. But aside from my heartfelt gratitude, I also ask for sufficient administrative competence to make such desperate measures unnecessary in future. Perhaps I ought to look through that pile of papers and see what other surprises are lurking.

ABR#12 Exodus

I have begun to read the Bible alphabetically (see here for my rationale), reading each book at least three times and trying to get into the mind of the original author and readers as well as listen to God’s message for today. Here’s what I’ve discovered from reading Exodus.

Leaving Egypt

As a narrative it’s a bit messy. The early episodes are snapshots within a larger history, and they don’t always hang together with complete logic. For example a) After the burning bush, a second call takes place when Moses returns to Egypt. b) A big deal is made of the threat to Hebrew male babies, yet Aaron (3 years older than Moses) seems to have survived without much problem. c) There’s a strange episode where God tries to kill Moses and his wife Zipporah saves him in some unclear way. d) If disease killed all the animals, why were some animals left to suffer from boils or hail?

Some changes take place slowly: Moses is extremely reluctant to be God’s spokesman and only gradually takes leadership. The slaves’ treatment in Egypt gets worse due to Moses stirring things up. The King reluctantly concedes different parts of the request (“You can stay in this country and worship”; “You can go but not too far or for too long”; “The men can go but leave your wives and children behind”; “The people can go but leave your animals”) but Moses sticks out for everyone leaving on a three-day journey (and in any case the King remains stubborn even after making some concessions.)

Perhaps this slow approach was necessary because the change was so massive. The Israelites didn’t like cruelty but that didn’t mean they wanted to uproot and leave the country. After all, they had homes, they possessed livestock, they weren’t destitute. But God had something greater in mind – not just freedom from oppression but a new home, their own land, a ruler who would be their God as well as their King. Perhaps the plagues and turmoil was as much to prepare the Israelites for leaving as it was to motivate the Egyptians to let their workforce go.

The story continues to be a little disjointed in places: a) The Passover and the crossing of the Red Sea, where ‘current’ events are mixed with laws about the feast and songs of celebration. In places it seems as if there have been different accounts (or even different types of account such as historical narrative and ritual instructions) woven together. b) There are references to the wind blowing back the sea to reveal dry land and to walls of water on either side, which conjure up two different images, one dramatic and miraculous the other more like a receding tide. c) One element of the Passover is purposefully ridding the house of yeast and avoiding anything fermented, but then there is the story of people being driven out of Egypt unexpectedly (as if they didn’t expect even this final plague to make a difference) and having to grab the bread which had not yet had chance to rise. On the journey they pause to bake it (portable ovens?!) even though it is unrisen.

Unlike some modern story structures which spend most of the time outlining the suffering of the hero and his oppressed people, and only resolve things near the end with a heroic rescue and the oppressors getting their come-uppance, Exodus outlines the suffering quite briefly and concentrates on the come-uppance at much greater length.

Receiving the Law

Exodus is a book of two halves. One big event in Israel’s history was their departure from Egypt. Another huge event was their encounter with God at Mount Sinai where He began to hand down a long list of commandments for them to live by, beginning with the familiar ten.

According to David Pawson each tablet held the full set of ten commandments – i.e. the contract was written out in duplicate, one for each party. This is a nice idea, but if true wouldn’t they have been kept separately? His summary of the ‘community’ laws being about respect, responsibility and retribution were more helpful

The early laws try to establish sensible rules for when people should be punished and when not – e.g. killing a burglar would be OK at night, presumably because you couldn’t see what you were doing, but not by day. This is no doubt better than anarchy, but still the rules are very harsh by our standards, such as the death penalty for hitting or cursing a parent. Many laws are about property, and payments made by way of reparation.

God then moves on to instructions for the manufacture of the ark, the tent, all the furnishings, the clothes for the priests etc. After the incident of the gold bull and having to start again with new tablets, there are equally long descriptions of how all the above were actually made. Why do we get essentially the same thing in two forms (‘God said do this’ / ‘they did it’)? Is it that two accounts have been put together? (in which case my impression is that they match in detail very closely – though I have not thoroughly checked on this.) Is it that the writer was a stickler for detail and liked to have everything spelled out twice? Is it that the writer is taking us step by step through the way that God’s instructions were obeyed to emphasise that they were followed in every detail? Is it to do with the pace of the narrative, because a summary like ‘they did everything God commanded’ wouldn’t allow the reader to live through the process of their actually doing it? Whatever the reason these are not the most gripping sections for the modern reader.

The initial laws seem different from the later. Straight after the ten commandments there are some brief instructions about how to build an altar – keep it simple, make it of earth, if you must use stones use natural uncut stones – then lots of laws about slaves, property, injury and compensation. Then Moses builds an altar, splatters blood against it and over the people, and goes up the mountain again with seventy elders where they all see God and survive. I can’t help thinking that what comes next – detailed instructions for a rich and elaborate worship area – must come from a different tradition. Perhaps the way to reconcile the two is to see the former altar as the everyday local or domestic place of worship and the latter as the one-off central and significant symbol of God’s glorious presence.

The laws are tricky to apply to the Christian lifestyle, partly because some are to do with the way society is run and justice is meted out (passing judgement on those who have allowed a borrowed animal to die is not part of my everyday experience) and partly because the whole system of worship (Passover, tabernacle, priestly clothing) is not the way we do things in church. It is the principles behind these laws which are more helpful in understanding how to create a just society and how to worship God.

The Whole Book

If you didn’t know the rest of the Bible story, how would this come across? – a persecuted people, the underclass, get their revenge on a cruel nation via their God who appoints a leader (and deputy) in Moses (and Aaron) – God is not just interested in freeing his people but in making Egypt suffer for their cruelty (killing Hebrew babies, setting impossible targets for their slave labour) – hence a series of plagues which ruin the Egyptian economy, destroy livestock and lives, followed by the death of the army – but the people are not out of the woods yet, they have to overcome natural hardships such as hunger and thirst, and again their God miraculously provides – finally they have to face up to their own behaviour – how can they live godly and pure lives? – and once more their God takes charge and issues a series of basic rules, plus a whole raft of detailed rules – which they at first spectacularly fail to keep and have to make a new commitment.

Does this work as a book in its own right, rather than one of a series? Certainly it has a proper beginning and end. It starts with a brief reminder of Israel’s family settling into Egypt, moves swiftly on to their troubles, the birth and call of their rescuer, Moses, all the dramatic signs and wonders which accompanied their escape from slavery to freedom. Once Egypt (thoroughly beaten) is left behind a new phase starts: the establishing of a law to guide them, and (after a few hiccups) the completion of an elaborate place of worship and accompanying priesthood. It ends with true worship (not of the false calf) taking place, and the glory of God filling this portable place of worship. The ‘happy ending’ is that he remained a constant presence and guide as they moved on into whatever the future held.

Some parts do not portray a loving God – the total defeat of Egypt (was it necessary to cause them so much suffering in order to get Israel free?) – the command to drive out the nations when they arrive in the promised land, and the assurance that God would help them succeed – the Levites’ demonstration of their commitment to God by killing thousands of fellow Israelites including their own families. Do we put this down to the attitude of the storyteller in an age when tribal warfare was common? Do we regard it as just the style of the story (similar to action adventure films where we are meant to enjoy the victory of the hero and not take seriously the colossal amount of death and destruction he leaves in his wake) Is this indicative of a side of God’s nature (coming down hard on any hint of sin) that we have forgotten in our emphasis on the God of love?

Some details I thought were interesting

The unnamed (until the later genealogy) parents did more-or-less obey Pharaoh’s instruction but in a way which led to a different result. Their baby boy was not quite thrown into the Nile, but placed gently among the reeds of the Nile in a basket.

Many of the plagues left the Israelites untouched – proof that there was a purpose behind them rather than being simple natural disasters.

The idea that ‘nothing like this had ever happened before’ comes across frequently, thus showing the power of God – his ability to do extraordinary and unique things.

At some point in returning to Egypt Moses sends his wife and sons back home (Midian) and only when he returns with a nation in tow does Jethro bring them out to reunite them.

A bit I’ve never noticed before: over 70 leaders ventured up the mountain and saw God with a pavement of sapphire beneath His feet, they ate and drank with Him and lived to tell the tale. In fact the variety of people who went up and down the mountain over the course of the story were so confusing that I lost track.

The poles for carrying the ark were left in place – a symbol of always being ready to move on?

God’s law was not “Here are the rules. Now you know. Job done. I’m off.” but “Here are the basic rules, but they include instructions on how to meet with me regularly so I can continue to explain and instruct and guide.”

Throwing blood against the altar must have made it look messy and undignified. And having blood thrown over the people (to seal the covenant) sounds even more unpleasant (though highly symbolic). Ditto for Aaron’s robes. Were they ever washed? There is a strange mix of high quality craftsmanship and expensive materials followed by splattering them with blood and oil to make them ‘holy’. Aaron must have looked more like a butcher than a priest.

One of the key moments of Israel’s history, the giving of the law, was spoiled by the people’s sin, abandoning their God in favour of a golden calf. It was only through the persuasion of Moses that they were given a second chance and even then there was bloodshed (3000 killed, the same number as those later converted at Pentecost) and God refused to travel with them too closely for their own good (to keep his anger from destroying them). The whole business had to be gone through again, but if anything the events are more spectacular the second time round, with Moses’s face shining from the experience. It’s not just in the little things that we can start over, but God is gracious enough to give us a second chance in the big things of life.

Further thoughts on Exodus can be found in several recent blog entries:

• Daily bread needed
• Time management idolatry
• Arm supports (gain without pain)
• Connect to God for regular updates
• Second chances
• Fun boy three and civil disobedience
• What size Bible chunks?
• How to build an altar
• God decides how and who

God decides how and who

Despite the long description of how to construct tabernacle, ark, altar, lampstand etc., I'm not sure there is quite enough detail for a craftsman to simply follow the instructions. You could imagine someone asking God, "How big should the pomegranate decorations be and what shape do you want the bells which alternate with them? Open-bottomed like handbells or little globes like sleighbells?" In order to get the place of worship built to his specifications God not only outlines his plans, but he appoints particular people to carry out the work (Bezalel and Ahisamach), to whom he gifts the required skills.

When I look at the church and the community we live in, then it's not difficult to understand what plans God has for us. At least I can envision an ideal world in which all people live in harmony and love one another in practical ways. Exactly how we construct such a world is not so clear. But then I realise that God has actually called me by name to be one of those engaged in bringing about his Kingdom. And I have to assume that if he's called me, he's given me the skills I need. It doesn't often feel like that. Usually I'm floundering in a sea of indecision not knowing the best way to lead. Perhaps I should trust my instincts more. Perhaps I should pray for wisdom and then be brave enough to move in what I believe is the right direction.

How to build an altar

After issuing the ten commandments on Mount Sinai, the next instructions that God gives to Moses are how to build an altar: keep it simple, make it of earth, and if you must use stones then stick with natural rocks rather than cut stones. So why is it that not too much later God gives long detailed instructions for an elaborate place of worship which includes a carefully-crafted acacia-wood altar overlaid with bronze?

One answer might be that over the years different traditions within Judaism have preserved different stories about Moses, each biased by their own particular emphases and that the book of Exodus is a compilation of different accounts. But even so the question remains - "What is God saying through these contrasting passages?"

On the one hand we should give our best to God - using the richest materials, the most skilled artisans, the highest quality worship. But we mustn't ever let this lead us from one of the most basic commandments, "Do not make and worship idols." If ever the pomp and ceremony become a god in their own right, then the simple ways are a healthy counterbalance. Just worship with whatever materials you have to hand. Don't waste time on fancy words or elaborate systems. Simply worship God.

A personal application: Not so much when it comes to worship, but when it comes to getting done all the things a minister should, I am very good at crafting elaborate systems for monitoring my task list and motivating my actions. At their best they are beautiful works of art which honour God by enabling me to be the most efficient person I can be. (This is an ideal situation I'm talking about, not my regular state of being.) But the closer I come to a beautifully organised lifestyle, the more my time-management systems are in danger of becoming an idol. I need to know when to forget the carefully-honed framework and just get on with doing what God wants.

What size Bible chunks?

Taking the 'daily bread' image of the manna one stage further (see here for earlier blog), I noticed that when manna first appeared those who collected a large amount did not have too much and those who collected a small amount did not have too little. If this aspect of God's miraculous provision continued, my logical mind says that people would have gravitated towards collecting small amounts and saving themselves too much effort. But if we apply the same idea to the daily reading of the Bible, what do we conclude?

That reading twice as much does not mean God speaks to you twice as much. The person reading many chapters at one sitting and the person focusing on one single sentence are equally blessed. Both ways of reading are important and valuable, but mere volume doesn't confer greater insight. If we are open and receptive to God, then he will give us just the right nourishment for the day, no more, no less.

Fun Boy Three and Civil Disobedience

Long ago Pharaoh issued an edict that all new-born Hebrew boys were to by thrown into the Nile. This edict presumably was not in force for any great length of time - it doesn't seem to have applied to Moses's older brother Aaron, and at the time of the exodus from Egypt there was no shortage of Hebrew male adults. But whilst the edict was in force, two parents came up with a clever plan. They did what they were commanded and abandoned their baby in the Nile. But rather than throw him in, they placed him carefully amongst the reeds in a basket.

Civil disobedience in this case meant keeping to the letter of the law but not the spirit of the law. I'm not sure what moral to draw from this as I'm not feeling any great present need for civil disobedience. Perhaps there's a broader principle at stake: if you have to do something because there's no choice, it is still important to find the right way to do it because the way you do it can make a vital difference to the outcome. Or in the immortal words of Fun Boy Three, "It ain't what you do, it's the way that you do it."

Second chances

One of the key events in Israel's history was the giving of the law on Mount Sinai. Moses produced stone tablets containing the ten commandments, and there were many other rules laid down by which the people should live and worship God. And the whole thing happened twice.

The first time was spoiled by the people's sin, turning from their God to making and worshipping a golden calf. This resulted in an angry God, in the killing of many perpetrators and almost (if it weren't for Moses pleading on their behalf) the end of Israel. Basically a disaster of the first order. Where do you go from there? This is where the grace of God comes to the fore. Out of the total wreckage of his plans, he is ready to begin again, to repeat the whole process of law-giving and get his plans for the people back on track.

Without wanting to go into any details in a public blog, this principle is very pertinent to a situation I am facing at the moment. God is a God of second chances - in the big things of life as well as the small.

Connect to God for regular updates

The law given via Moses was not God's final word on the subject. Built in to the laws were the idea of moving on (leaving the carrying posts in the ark of the covenant), freshness (lamps always lit and bread always on display) and regular updates (God's promised to meet with the people from between the wings of the cherubim on the cover of the ark.) In other words, God did not say "Here's all you need to know. Now get on with it. That's that. I'm off." He said "Here are the basic rules, but they include instructions on how to meet me for continued guidance."

These days you don't just buy the initial software, but you connect to the web for updates to the latest version. Perhaps a better analogy is a social networking site or a multi-player game where the whole point of the software is to put you in touch with other people. The Bible contains all we need to know to get started, and is sometimes the channel by which we meet God. But what really matters are regular encounters with the Living Word.

Creator of the heavens

To the ancient world the created universe consisted of a vast star-studded dome, an earth beneath flourishing with life and an ocean which also teemed with life in its mysterious depths. For the people of Israel, the idea that the one who created this impressive universe would choose to be 'their God' and take an active interest in their welfare led them to wonder and to worship.

We have a much better understanding of the nature of the universe than they did. The earth is more complex and astounding than anyone can understand. Strange creatures inhabit the sea depths in pitch blackness and under tremendous pressure. And as for the sky above us - the far reaches of space are unimaginably vast. All the stars we see are only a local cluster. The size of our solar system is minuscule compared with the galaxy around us - let alone the millions of other bigger and brighter galaxies scattered across creation.

So we ought to be struck dumb with awe that the creator of all this has not only taken an interest in the human race, but came and lived among us. There are not enough exclamation marks to do justice to the wonder of it...

Arm supports (gain without pain)

The story of Israel's battle against the Amalekites has always struck me as a bit of a cheat. The army only win as long as Moses is holding his arms up. But he gets tired. So he sits down and two aides come and hold his arms up for him. It's as if he's taking advantage of 'the rules' to get something for nothing. Instead of having to put the effort in himself, he gets the same results with others doing the work - and much easier work at that.

But maybe that's the point of the story. Sometimes getting the job done is what matters, and if there's a short cut which saves you exhausting yourself in the process, then go for it. I can think of times when I have done things the hard way in order to impress others with my sacrificial dedication. Such behaviour doesn't impress God. He'd rather me use my intelligence to act efficiently, especially when that involves teamwork and sharing the burden.

Time management idolatry

The second commandment is not to make and worship idols. One Bible commentator said it was easy to worship an idol: you just put it on a pedestal and expected miracles from it. This is a good description of what I sometimes do with my latest time-management technique. I find a simple pithy principle which I think has the power to transform my life and I devote to it all my time and energy. Memo to self: remember to treat any new technique as a tool and not an idol.