The God who speaks (a biblical reflection)

Bible, , , , ,

In the beginning, God speaks.

God says, “Let there be light”, and there is light. God speaks the world into being.

In calling Abraham, God speaks.

God says, “I will make you into a great nation and you will be a blessing,” and despite all appearances to the contrary, Abraham believes. God speaks a nation into being.

In the Exodus from Egypt, God speaks.

God says, “I have heard my people’s cry”, and steps in to redeem them from slavery and oppression. God speaks redemption in being.

In the Old Testament Torah, God speaks.

God says, “Love the LORD your God with all your heart and strength and mind,” and gives teaching and instruction to live out this relationship in practice in all areas of life. God speaks the Law into being.

In the Old Testament prophets, God speaks.

God says, “Return your hearts to me,” faithfully and persistently calling His people in each generation and situation to walk with Him. God speaks prophecy into being.

In the coming of His Son, God speaks.

God says, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased. Listen to Him,” revealing in human flesh His divine presence, Emmanuel, God with us. God speaks incarnation into being.

In Jesus’ life and teaching, God speaks.

God says, “The one who has ears to hear, let them hear,” inviting reflection and response to a new way of life. God speaks His Kingdom into being.

In Jesus’ death, God speaks.

God says, “It is finished,” declaring once and for all forgiveness, reconciliation, and victory. God speaks salvation into being.

In raising Jesus from the dead, God speaks.

God says, “He is risen,” proclaiming the arrival of a new era of abundant life available to all. God speaks resurrection into being. 

In pouring out His Spirit on the church, God speaks.

God says, “Your sons and daughters will prophesy,” empowering and equipping each follower of Jesus to proclaim and testify to his work in our lives. God speaks His church into being.

In sending His church out into the world, God speaks.

God says, “You will be my witnesses,” commissioning His disciples to take and speak the good news to the very ends of the earth. God speaks mission into being.

In every chapter and on every page of the Bible, God speaks.

In every moment and generation, God reveals himself to be a speaking God. 

So … how do we hear this speaking God speak to us through His Word today?

How do we listen to the Bible as the living, breathing, speaking word of God in our daily lives?

And what might God wanting to speak into being in our time?

I can’t help but wonder … (A Christmas reflection)

Christmas, Faith, , , ,

I can’t help but wonder how something comes from nothing:

time proceeds from eternity,

movement is birthed from stillness,

light shines out of darkness

purpose from chaos,

language emerges from silence,

the Word speaks creation into being

and life begins.

And I wonder at the God who precedes all these things:

existing eternally in community – 

a trinity of loving fraternity –

always living, ever giving,

present, seeing, knowing,

majestic in splendour,

awesome in power,

radiant in glory,

perfect in wisdom and might.

I wonder if He wondered with joy and delight

as each new being he created came bursting into life,

each star ablaze and flung into space,

every flower unfolding with vibrant colour and beauty,

every animal formed, shaped and named,

each human face with tender love beheld,

Spirit-breathed life fashioned out of clay,

invited to walk together in the cool of each day.

I can’t help but wonder at the arrogance and indifference

that could lead us to turn away

from the One who adored and created –

as if our own thoughts could be higher than the

perfect wisdom of the One 

who imagined us before thought was a thing –

to choose paths of hate and war over love and peace,

trampling and treading on one another in a race to the top,

to withdraw and retreat into shame and despair

when we fall by the wayside or the illusions stop.

And I wonder why God doesn’t intervene:

forcefully taking over the mess we make of this world,

superseding our selfishness, determining our fate,

compelling our obedience, dispelling our liberty –

if that’s what it takes to restore order in this chaos

and see heartlessness end.

I wonder if He wonders why we do not surrender,

respond to his grace, seek His face,

choose life over death, heaven over hell,

return and repent, be restored and released,

willingly follow the paths he has shown and made known,

embrace the true freedom his service offers,

constructing the community reflective of his character

rather than our own.

I can’t help but wonder how history unfolds

as each generation drifts further in the cold

dark despair of humanity’s inhumanity,

warring and lying,

cheating and dying,

the futility of our so-called civility

and the profanity of our self-glorifying vanity

playing on repeat.

And I wonder at God’s promises

retold and renewed again and again and again,

a continued plan for redemption revealed century after century

in glimpses and foretastes,

rhymes and proclamations,

through poets and preachers,

prophets and seers,

with previews and signs of a wonder yet to come –

the greatest miracle still to be done.

I wonder if He wondered with compassionate exasperation –

as his prophets were ignored and reviled,

his clear message muddled and defiled –

when we would truly listen, hear and respond

or if each season of turning would last very long

and if even his greatest revelation and utmost salvation

would ultimately be forsaken.

I can’t help but wonder with the shepherds at that moment

when the world turns upside down,

on a peaceful normal night,

heaven torn asunder,

space and time ripped at the seams,

as the Lord of all creation steps down and enters in;

and with Magi from the east,

searching for signs from above

to understand this extraordinary event and what it might mean

for me and for us and for all of history.

And I wonder at God’s timing and I marvel at His grace,

his patient persistence, His undeterred pace,

all promises perfected,

all expectations exceeded,

all faith filled fuller,

all hopes hugely seeded,

a new way of being unveiled for both God and His people.

I wonder if He wondered as the angels sang His song,

how His people would receive him

and just what he was taking on,

clothing himself with humanity

in the person of His Son,

entering into impermanence

taking on skin and flesh,

giving up the magnificent throne of heaven

for a lowly feeding trough.

I can’t help but wonder at a baby’s vulnerability:

utter dependence, helplessness, defencelessness,

enslavement to hunger, susceptible to disease,

exposed to the elements, open to abuse,

birthed into mess and brokenness,

disorder and decay,

need upon need upon need.

And I wonder about God’s experience:

the Everlasting Father now cradled in a new mother’s arms,

once clothed in majesty and splendour now wrapped in human rags,

all heaven confounded, the angels perplexed,

as the one whose word spoke eternity into being’s

cries wordlessly pierce the night,

in to all appearances an ordinary family just like the rest,

easily overlooked and neglected,

yet too soon to be pursued and rejected

when seen as a threat.

I wonder if he wondered with those newborn eyes wide,

how all that he now needed He could not himself provide,

how suddenly did He know frailty,

how immediately did He know distress,

the all-powerful rendered powerless,

the all-knowing limited to babbling,

the infinite reduced to the finite,

the immortal subjected to mortality.

I can’t help but wonder at the paradoxes and the mysteries

of this faith and its creeds,

the beauty and complexity of what I believe,

divinity and humanity,

the supernatural within nature,

miracles and reasoning,

transcendence and presence,

truth in confusion, joy in lament,

hope in hopeless seasons, love in loneliness.

And I wonder who this God truly is

and how to know Him more,

a king who forsakes palaces and dwells among the poor,

who walks among us vulnerable and joins us weak and weary,

who extends his hand to the diseased and dishevelled,

and his heart to the least and lost,

who gives up eternity to walk in the dust,

and embraces humiliation and carries a cross.

I wonder if he wonders as He shares our human life,

how we carry all these burdens

and tread these disheartening paths,

not overwhelmed by our sorrows or enslaved to our sin,

knowing our weakness, tenderly walking beside,

with fullest understanding in compassion reaching out,

the One who has entered our experience, 

now inviting us to follow Him into His.

I can’t help but wonder and in awe I worship 

for I can never comprehend,

I sing and praise and bend my knee,

forever I stand amazed,

I come and adore Him, I kneel at His feet

in astonishment and adulation,

in reverence and veneration,

with prayers and songs and silence I ponder,

seeking not to understand but simply to wonder.

And I wonder because God has come and revealed himself completely:

the invisible made visible,

the indivisible Three now One in flesh,

Wonderful Counselor unveiled, Mighty God incarnate, 

Everlasting Father with us, Prince of Peace inside the chaos,

God, King, and Saviour now one of our race,

His name called Emmanuel.

I wonder if he wonders as His people join together

to celebrate His coming each December,

singing songs, sharing stories to remember again,

his entrance into our world once and for all,

how we can receive His wonderous coming with wonder yet again,

every day, every moment, to have, to share and to make known,

and like little children on Christmas morning,

to be enthralled and transfixed, thrilled and elated,

in His abiding presence with us always and forever,

with wonder,

in wonder.

I can’t help but wonder.

Why I’m voting Yes to the Voice

Culture, Faith, Politics, , , , , ,

I don’t speak for anyone but myself, but I doubt anyone who knows me would be surprised to hear I will be voting “YES” in the Australian constitutional referendum next week.

As I have listened to Aboriginal sisters and brothers, particularly my fellow Christian leaders, I hear gracious, gentle, and careful, yet firm and overwhelming, encouragement to do so. Some have acknowledged that this proposal is not perfect, as no proposal ever could be. But it is a step forward, and the only alternative on the table is the status quo. A wise, godly Gurindji woman I sat with on her country late last year summed it up this way: “We are extending a hand of friendship to you, to walk forward together. If you slap that hand away, where can we go from there?”

“We are extending a hand of friendship to you, to walk forward together. If you slap that hand away, where can we go from there?”

I’m happy to share publicly how I will be voting on this, because if the referendum is unsuccessful, I will be disappointed – and I don’t have a very good poker face. More importantly, I will want to be asking lots of questions about what else we will do instead. My only previous experience of voting in a referendum is the one where the “no” vote resulted in us essentially taking the whole topic of conversation off the national agenda for the next 25 years. I can’t bear the thought that that could be what happens with regards to reconciliation in this country. 

This referendum is the culmination of an unprecedented consultation process that was supported by both major political parties and sought to listen to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander representatives from across the nation. The Uluru Statement from the Heart is addressed to the Australian public from Aboriginal people, and asks for substantiative and structural reform that they believe will make a difference in their communities, including a Constitutional Voice. It saddens me that this grassroots proposal after years of consultation has become unhelpfully politicised through campaigns of misinformation and now risks being rejected because of which party people associate it with.

There’s been a lot of talk about division. In some sense, referenda are inherently divisive: they divide us into those who vote yes and those who vote no. Which means we are already “divided” in the sense that we hold different views. In 1967, our nation was divided between the 90% who voted to count Aboriginal people in the population of our nation, and the 10% who said no even to that. Whatever happens next Saturday, there will be that simple division because a referendum is a blunt instrument. As is any election. We don’t get to vote on all the individual policies proposed by each political party, we get to select a candidate to represent us. Democracy itself is far from perfect, but that’s how it works: we acknowledge our different views, and we seek a majority consensus in order to move forward. And then, at our best, we seek to walk together with everyone regardless of how they voted. The polarisation of political debate around the world in recent decades exasperates me because it seems we are losing the ability to move forward at all when we disagree. We can choose a different way, but using the idea that disagreement or division in itself is intolerable isn’t going to help us get there. 

There’s also been a lot of talk about details and blank cheques, which perhaps betrays the lack of engagement Australians have with our Constitution. It is not a details document. It doesn’t even mention the role of the Prime Minister! It sets out broad principles and then gives the government of the day the power to legislate all the details … and gives future elected governments the power to change those details. I believe this referendum is quite a modest proposal. All it guarantees moving forward is that there will be a body called the Voice. If successful, it will be up to our members of parliament (all of them, including those who strongly opposed the Voice or have serious questions about it) to discuss, debate and together determine the details of how it will work. A proposal to put all the details in the Constitution would actually be far more problematic, binding ourselves to a particular process rather than to an outcome.

“If you’re not sure, find out more.”

I’ve been particularly disturbed by the call to ignorance, i.e. “If you don’t know, vote no.” As far as slogans go, I much prefer, “If you’re not sure, find out more.” As citizens in a democracy, it is both our privilege and I believe our obligation to make an informed decision, to listen and learn and to not give in to the temptation to retreat to our echo chambers. It can be difficult to listen to those we disagree with, and difficult to sort out truth from fear. And it’s even easier to opt out when for us non-indigenous Australians, there isn’t really that much at stake. I grieve for my Aboriginal sisters and brothers who have had to endure months of too many people talking about “them” as an issue rather than as people.

As a follower of Jesus, I’m drawn to the Bible’s calls towards humility, mercy, and justice. To putting the needs of others above our own, lifting up those who have been downtrodden, and owning up to our own mistakes as well as the privileges of the wealth and power we have inherited at others’ expense. I’m horrified by the disparities in our nation and the realities of the generational impact of our history. If there is a step that those affected believe will bring healing and restoration, why wouldn’t we take it? As a student of the Old Testament, I’m also challenged by the role of land and therefore the idea of what I call “groundedness” – the profound truth that God meets people within their time and place, and that therefore our own location matters and responding well to that is a discipleship question. This means I have to reckon with what it means to follow Jesus as a non-indigenous person in this land.

As a Baptist, I also believe in freedom of conscience and so I understand that others might bristle at the thought that I am telling them what to do or how to vote. That is not my intention. But I also don’t want that freedom to become an excuse for staying silent or not robustly participating in the political questions of our day. While the gospel is never partisan, it always has political implications, and we must continue to wrestle together with how best to demonstrate our love for Jesus and love for our neighbours in practice at a national as well as individual level. For me, I’m not sure how else to do that here, than to trust that taking the hand of friendship offered and walking forward together is a better choice than standing still apart.

O people, the LORD has told you what is good, and this is what he requires of you: to do what is right, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God.

Micah 6:8

Artwork by Safina Stewart, Common Grace