Ordinary People

One aspect of being the parent of adult children is that you never know who's going to be home for tea. For the first time we found ourselves home alone on New Year's Eve and seriously debated whether to stay up until midnight or not (for the record, WE DID, cause we're hard-core), the combination of work, social activities and our eldest having moved out mean that everyone sitting down for a meal at the same time doesn't happen.

Except for Sunday nights. Most of the time Sunday evening is family meal. It's a time when we enjoy being 'us', a family. It's where our lives intersect and we get to share each other's worlds and the laughs, concerns, triumphs and challenges we all face.

Sunday nights are one of my favourite times of the week. I love the banter and jokes and wide-ranging conversation the seven of us share. I love sitting down after the meal and continuing this time of shared life. I love family night.

It occurred to me that we used to do this all the time. When our kids were little or at school we used to sit down and have this pretty much every night. The conversations might have been a little different (more, "Eat your veggies" and less, "How was work this week?"), but the laughs and enjoyment were the same. I think I appreciate our Sunday evening meals because they are an event rather than routine.

And I wondered, how much of our normal routine, of the the ordinary and regular aspects of life do we fail to truly appreciate because they are just that: routine, ordinary, regular?

We've just celebrated Australia Day and a friend of mine posted an article from an American visitor reminding us to appreciate some of the great things in our nation that Americans don't enjoy. The article highlighted the fact that we have free health-care, good roads, fewer guns, and even small shops and bakeries can make good coffee (apparently the word 'coffee' in America is also applied to flavoured dirt and constantly re-heated, drip-filtered bath water).

Once again these are the ordinary and regular aspects of life in our nation that we fail to adequately appreciate. Often it takes an outsider or a change in circumstances before we really take notice of the special things, times and people in our lives.

All of this caused my thoughts to wander off into this question: do we give appropriate value to the people in our lives, or even those we simply meet everyday?

I was thinking about how much I enjoy Family Night and the relationships and dynamic of our little times, and a little thought (hmmmm, maybe God?) popped into my head. Do I place sufficient value on people? All people, everyday people, regular people, the people who matter so much to Jesus whom I claim to follow.

I didn't appreciate that thought intruding on my warm and fuzzy family feelings. I tried to ignore it, to push it away, to close it behind a closet door in my mind, but the irritating little critter just kept popping up again. So I addressed the issue: Do I value people sufficiently in my life?

No.

It's easy to place value on people I like. It's easy to 'do unto others as you would have them do unto you' and practice forgiveness and kindness and generosity to people who I count as friends, family, are like me and who like me. But that's not the question I feel I was being asked. I think the suggestion was that I examine my attitudes towards a whole lot of other people.

I just typed, and deleted, a whole paragraph of the type of people I don't value and, in fact, really irritate and annoy me. That isn't, however, the point of this post. I think the point of the persistent little though was to remind me to place value on every person I meet and everyone who crosses my path each day.

The point was to remind me that my life and my world is full of people of all walks of life, of all cultures and ethnicities, of all beliefs and genders and orientations that are so loved and valued by my God that he went to extreme lengths to demonstrate his love and provide a way to welcome them back into relationship. If God places such value on them, so should I.

It matters not whether I like them or not, whether they like me, or whether we actually know each other; what matters is the way I view them. Family Night is special and precious because it is no longer ordinary - no one is ordinary and therefore everyone is special and precious.

I'm suggesting for a moment that everyone is nice, or 'good', or the sort of person you'd have over for dinner. I'm not proposing that the attitudes, behaviours and actions that people exhibit are all to be supported, accepted or even tolerated. I'm simply suggesting that in the ordinariness of life, there is the opportunity to celebrate the value of the people we meet and see in them the image of God in whose image they are created (damaged, distorted, twisted and fractured though it may be).

To me this is a challenge. I'm not a particularly grumpy or nasty person (I don't think so anyway), but I am impatient and frequently distracted by me and my agenda rather than noticing the surprising and constant presence of God in my world.

And in the midst of my life I wonder if the Christian message, the 'love God and love others' essence of my faith, the 'whatever you did for these others you did for me' practice of my faith, is sometimes as simple as looking at the bank teller, the checkout person, the mum with her baby in a stroller, the elderly person with their walking frame, the woman in her burka, or the two young men holding hands, and see them as valued, loved and welcome.

Ordinary has value, ordinary is beautiful, ordinary is....well....extraordinary....

Adventure

On a scale of 1 to Indiana Jones I think I'm around a 2, or perhaps a 3 on my more radical days. I'm sorry to say that I'm not very adventurous. I'd like to be one of those cool, trendy, exciting, debonaire, risk takers - but I'm not. I don't even like roller coasters, and don't suggest bungee jumping! Are you crazy? I've watched people do that, most recently in Queenstown on our holiday, and it only reinforced my absolute conviction that tying an elastic band to my legs and jumping head first off a perfectly good bridge in not on my 'to do' list.

My lack of adventurous nature is such that when on a holiday in Tasmania a few years ago we decided to be spontaneous and not book accommodation! We'd just find somewhere to stay wherever we ended up. For most people that is no big deal. For my wife it was an expression of her adventurous personality. For me...I spent the days stressed because I didn't know where I'd be sleeping that night. Yes I had fun, yes I enjoyed the sights of southern Tassie that we visited - BUT WHERE WAS I SLEEPING???

I tend to be a creature of habit. My wife recently moved our toothbrush holder to the opposite side of the sink, and it has taken me a couple of weeks to stop trying to put my toothbrush where it doesn't go any more. Even today my habitual nature was on display. I've taught all four of our children to drive, most recently our youngest son. So this morning we dropped our car off for some repairs (thanks hail storm...) and my wife drove us home in our son's car only for me to be constantly checking her speed and the rear vision mirror. It wasn't about her driving (honestly), but when I'm in the passenger seat of that car it's what I habitually do.

Creature of habit, not Indy.

Which is disappointing because I've always loved adventure stories and movies and, from the comfort of my own home, can imagine myself as an intrepid explorer discovering new lands, overcoming daunting challenges, enjoying new experiences, in short, having adventures.

In many ways the journey our church has been on over the last few months and the unfolding plans for 2014 can best be described as an adventure. If an adventure is exciting and terrifying, is filled with challenges and possibilities, requires a trust in those you are traveling with and a dependence on God, takes you into unexpected places with surprising discoveries, and requires that you get your own personal Star Trek on to "boldly go where no one has gone before," then I'm finally on an adventure.

As a result of prayerful reflection linked to a growing conviction that God was calling us to be church rather than do church, and that church wasn't an event or a place but a people (I know we all say that, but think about it, is it really evidenced as such in practice), we embarked on deconstructing our faith community to re-birth and re-plant it in a way that was more organic and relationship centred. We were influenced by Mike Breen and 3DM ministries (weare3dm.com), Hugh Halter and the Tangible Kingdom (missio.us), Brandon Hatmaker and his book Barefoot Church (brandonhatmaker.com), Tim Chester and his book Total Church as well as numerous books, articles and podcasts from Alan Hirsch, Neil Cole and others.

Vision, conviction and circumstance all collided and we have now spent almost five months as a community of communities. Each Sunday our church meets in several homes across our city for the purpose of spiritual formation, discipleship and mission. We seek to strengthen our relationship with God through prayer, reading and studying the Bible and hearing what he is saying to us as individuals and a group; we seek to strengthen our relationships with each other (fellowship) by developing open, honest, authentic relationships that facilitate discipleship as we challenge, encourage and learn from each other to walk in the way of Jesus; and we seek to strengthen our life of mission, to image Christ in our community through our everyday life and find ways to serve our community and connect with it to show love, compassion and justice, and tangibly demonstrate what life looks like in God's kingdom.

Once a month we all come together, because we are a community of communities, and worship God and celebrate what he has been doing in our lives since last we gathered. We see ourselves as a community of believers who practice a rhythm of Gathered, Scattered and Sent.

We are on a journey (an adventure) and have learned a lot, have so much more to learn, and so much farther to go. We are trying to get out of our Christian box and find ways to just connect with people. That means lots of different things. It means serving the poor and needy, it means partnering with other groups to provide help wherever it is needed, it means activities where we can welcome people to widen our circle of friends, it means seeing people as people and not as prospects, it means trusting that God knows what he is doing in us and through us and that the life within will actually shine through, it means being creative and generous and going places we wouldn't normally go and listening and loving and accepting.

In short in means being the sort of people Jesus expected his disciples to be.

The journey we are on and the changes we have made to the life and structure of our church isn't the only way of being 'church' nor is it a criticism of any other church or group. It's simply where we believe God has led us. My prayer and my hope is that we will be able to connect with people who are in different places of their journey of spiritual discovery and in some way point to Jesus as the perfect revelation of God and his love and redemptive plan for our world. My hope is for our small communities to network and grow and for our Gatherings to rejoice in lives changed, families healed, people fed and clothed, dignity restored, and the light of Christ turning up in the most unexpected places.

This is my adventure. It could all go wrong, there are no guarantees of success (whatever that means), but we can't do anything else.

So let me revise my first sentence: On a scale of 1 to Indiana Jones, I'm Bilbo Baggins - on an unexpected journey, feeling ill-equipped and out of my comfort zone, but with a growing confidence that this is the story I was always meant to live.

My Favourite Pagan Holiday!

We were driving to the shops to continue the annual safari of hunting for Christmas gifts for our family. I was commenting on how much I love Christmas, a disposition formed by many happy childhood memories and the joy of our children on Christmas Day over the years. To me Christmas is still magical, I love carols and trees and decorations and lights, and we jokingly realised that not only is Christmas my favourite time of year, it's my favourite pagan holiday!

I actually couldn't care less about the origins of the various Christmas traditions, even the timing of the celebration. I'm interested because it's history, but I don't care, it doesn't make any difference to me - I love Christmas! And it isn't because I'm about to say that it's all about Jesus' birthday (although it is) because let's be honest, that really doesn't mean too much to most people. I know many churches will be packed with people they haven't seen since last year, and although we would like to see them more often, it's actually good that they recognise the core reason we adopted this pagan holiday and many of the traditions in the first place.

I think one of the reasons I continue to love Christmas is because of what it means and does for most people. Christmas reminds us of the importance of family and friends, it brings us together, it causes us to think beyond our own wants and consider what other people would like. Yes, I think it's too commercial; yes, I think we all spend too much; yes, there is often a competition about who spends the most; yes, there are a lot of people in our society who miss out and find Christmas a particularly difficult time of year. Consider this, however, that on this one day of the year, right across the globe, people are pausing in their lives and planning to take the time to enjoy a meal with the ones they care about.

This is a good thing. The miracle of the first Christmas was that a baby was born who would restore relationship (fellowship, communion) between God and humanity, this miracle continues to bring people together (in fellowship, communion) whether they believe in, celebrate or care about the birth of that child or not. 

I was spoiled as a child. I was the only child of upper-middle class parents who enjoyed buying me presents almost as much as I enjoyed receiving them. I don't ever remember a Christmas lunch at home. I remember going to a restaurant every year with other families, eating beautiful food, singing around a tree and getting presents from Father Christmas (we never called him Santa Claus, that wasn't British). I remember presents under the tree Christmas morning, a spread my Mum prepared for Christmas tea (that we would continue to enjoy for a couple of days after), and my Dad's anticipation of Mum's trifle (which I find a particularly disgusting dessert).

I remember leaving out biscuits and either port or sherry for Father Christmas (which probably explains his big belly and red face); I remember my Dad relaxing when we got home after lunch with a cigar or his pipe and a glass of brandy before the obligatory afternoon nap; I remember snow; I remember the carols and Christmas songs playing and Mum and Dad humming or singing along as the day unfolded; I remember the smell of the real pine Christmas tree and the annoying needles it would shed; I remember going to sleep Christmas night full and happy and wishing the day would last forever.

I remember some of my expensive presents, but not many. My memories revolve around the time spent with my parents, around food and laughter,  around the simple joys of stopping to be family. We didn't attend church, we didn't even say grace. My parents believed, after a fashion, but although they knew the 'reason for the season' (an expression so overused it irritates), the meaning of Christmas was family, and a thankfulness for all we had, especially for each other.

I love Christmas because I live in a society that has largely forgotten or rejected the cultural Christianity we inherited from previous generations. To be honest I think that might actually be a good thing, there are some aspects that needed forgetting or rejecting, but in Christmas the heart of God to bring people together, to foster meaningful relationships, to inspire love and joy and peace and hope and generosity is seen in homes everywhere.

When I think about that I sometimes wonder where God is most likely to be experienced at Christmas, where he is most likely to be at work. Is it where people gather to sing and remember that baby born in Bethlehem? Probably, those are good things to do. But might it not also be at the other times, the more attended and less obvious times when we share our Christmas meal and in our own way appreciate what we have?

Whatever you do and wherever you are this Christmas I hope it will be a happy day full of joy and laughter. I hope you will embrace the ones you love and give thanks for the good things in your life. And I hope that like me, Christmas will remain or perhaps become, your favourite pagan holiday as well!

Merry Christmas!!

God is at work...in unexpected places...

A couple of days ago I attended a very special graduation ceremony as my wife completed her Bachelor's degree complete with an award for academic achievement after three years of hard work, a impossibly steep learning curve and numerous lectures, tutorials and assignments. The ceremony was marked by tradition and pomp as the classical music played and the various deans and other faculty, garbed in their gowns and hoods and hats of different colours, entered the auditorium. One staff member carries the mace (apparently also known informally as the Qudditch stick) representing the leadership of the chancellor and the authority of the University.

The ceremony is long, and seems longer. There are so many graduates, and being a courteous sort of person I wanted to applaud each one as I also expect others to applaud my wife. I did the same with my daughter, I will do the same with my son. That's fine when their award is an early one and their name begins with an early letter of the alphabet. In our case there were many other awards before they got to my wife's, and we are 'Ws', so my applause tapered off a little and my interest became engaged by the attempts to pronounce some of the names and the graduates who were too nervous or too busy showboating to remember to 'doff' their cap to the Deputy Chancellor.

During the ceremony there were three speeches, one by the Deputy Chancellor, one by an invited dignitary, and one by a graduating student. The first two were ok, the one by the student was excellent, but what was of interest to me, and occasioned this post, was a common theme in all three addresses.

Naturally they all recognised that the many graduates were intending for a rewarding and successful career in their chosen field. In the same way that it's improbable we will ever hear anyone answer the question, "And do you (whoever) take (the other one) whom you hold by the hand...." with, "I'll give it a go and see how it works out"; it's also unlikely (although not impossible) that any of the graduating students intend to take their expensive and hard earned degree and immediately retire to their couch an spend their time watching Oprah, Dr. Phil and Days of our Lives.

All three speeches, however, also reminded the graduates that with the privilege of education comes the responsibility to give back, to use the gifts, talents and opportunities they have to be of benefit to the wider community. Did you get that? All three speeches articulated an important aspect of the Christian message - find fulfilment, look after your family, and do something for others!

The biblical value of not just living for yourself but using what you have for other people and the wider community (particularly the poorest, the hurting, the oppressed and the excluded) is an overflow of the Trinitarian love that welcomes humanity, in all our lost and fallen state, and redeems us, transforms us, and embraces us in fellowship. As we enter the Christmas season the idea of a God that is for 'others' to the degree that he became human in order to redeem his creation is so clearly imaged in a baby in a manger. This is the God who came, who lived and suffered and died, who gave his life for others - for us.

Right now you might be skeptical. Come on Jeremy, the idea of community and service are pretty trendy right now. And what about the motivations? Don't they come into it? Just what's you point?

Here's my point: God is at work. To sit in the audience of a secular university, one that is actively opposed to spiritual issues (well, Christian spiritual issues anyway), and hear three people exhort the graduates to not live just for themselves but for others as well reminded me that God is at work in his world. Wherever there is love, wherever there is forgiveness, wherever there is mercy, wherever there is justice, wherever the poor are cared for and the hurting find healing - God is at work.

Right throughout the Bible we are reminded that this is God's world. The one who created it in the Genesis story hasn't abandoned it but is intimately involved in it. In our scientific age we might reconsider the 'facts' of, "He provides food for the cattle and for the young ravens when they call," (Ps. 147:9) and, "Look at the birds of the air; they do not reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them" (Matt. 6:26), but the truth of those verses isn't about how animals are fed, but that God is involved in his creation.

In Acts 17 Paul encourages the Athenians that he can tell them about the God they have unknowingly been seeking and affirms, "...he is not far from any one of us." In fact most of the New Testament gospel message to Gentile audiences took the theme of, "Look around, God is at work, let me tell you his story."

Sometimes we forget that God doesn't need us, doesn't only work through us or through the church, and that he is constantly at work by his Spirit throughout the world. Jesus explained it like this in John 3, "The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it has come from or where it is going." The context here is, of course, the issue of the Spirit 'birthing' followers of God who were not born Israelites and the need for Jews to be 'born again'. There is, though, the implicit truth that God is at work where and when we don't expect and in places and ways that we are completely unaware of. God is at work in his world.

This thought informs every aspect of my life. It creates an awareness and expectancy to see God in this world, not in a weird way, like some Christian version of spiritist folk-religions, but in a healthy way that recognises God's presence, activity and care for his creation. It sees the admittedly flawed, broken and distorted and yet still present image of God in acts of mercy, justice and generosity; and it yearns for the clearer and more explicit expression of that image through his followers by his Spirit.

This thought sees the activity of God bringing forth the promised redeemed and transformed creation guaranteed by the resurrection of Christ. This thought fills me with hope and a desire to join with him and be an active part of the process.

It also poses this question: Where is God at work in my world, in my life?
Where is the space that allows me to slow and reflect and really see where he is present and speaking and working?

God speaks in many ways, he is working in unexpected places, he is found in unanticipated events - where is he at work in your life? In your world? What is he saying? What is he doing? And how can you join in?

Is someone missing?

If you were asked to explain the Christian faith, how would you reply?

I recently read a suggestion that the best way to understand what Christianity is all about is to read/study the epistles of Paul. Some people would discuss the values and ethics that are important to the faith, or the positive social justice initiatives that they are involved in. Others would talk about their church or faith community and the sense of welcome and connection they find there. Some would tell of their personal experiences with God and his presence in their lives. Or, perhaps, some would bring up the gospel (a really misunderstood term) and the 'plan of salvation' (whatever that really is) and how we are all lost but can live in heaven forever if we 'accept Jesus.'

What would you say? I'm not suggesting that any of these things are bad, but it seems to me that often we manage to explain Christianity without real reference to, well, Christ. I mean how can we recommend Romans or Galatians or Ephesians to explain the faith instead of Matthew, Mark, Luke or John? How is it we can seek to explain something that revolves around the life, death and resurrection of Jesus without telling his story?

In his excellent book The King Jesus Gospel, Scot McKnight describes one prominent Bible teacher who asked the question, "Did Jesus preach Paul's gospel?" Thankfully the answer is 'Yes', but that's not the issue. As McKnight points out, shouldn't the question be, "Did Paul preach Jesus' gospel?" Is it possible that Jesus is such a radical, difficult, challenging, hard to box and even irritating person that it is much easier to deal with Paul than Christ himself? Is it possible, and I suggest this with great trepidation, that we explain Christianity without much reference to Jesus and all he said and did because he doesn't fit into the box that is the Christian world today?

Christianity is about Jesus. It's the story of the God whose love for his creation was so expansive that he walked with us as one of us, displayed what it means to connect with the kind of life he always intended for us to live and promise the possibility of this life - kingdom - breaking into our reality and touching and redeeming every facet of our soul, every element of our existence, and every corner of our planet. Ultimately God, enfleshed in the person of Jesus, suffered with and for all of creation and died to experience the extreme of exile and the assault of evil, hate and injustice. It's the story of him rising from the dead to vindicate all that he said, to proclaim victory over all that separates humanity from our God, and to validate his promise of a new kingdom and new creation. It's the reality of living into that promise now by the enabling of the Spirit and a willingness to walk the difficult path to personally and corporately embody the continuing presence of Jesus and his redeeming work in our world.

I think the only way to explain Christianity, and indeed that elusive term 'gospel' is to tell the story of Jesus. He said things and behaved in a way that was uncomfortable and socially unacceptable for his culture. He disturbed those in power (political, cultural, religious, economic and military) and questioned their beliefs and values. He befriended people he shouldn't, crossed social boundaries he wasn't supposed to, welcomed those that were unacceptable and called for justice and mercy to those no one wanted to associate with.

And then it hit me as I typed the previous paragraph - my life doesn't look like that! Is it possible that we avoid including the story of Jesus as the core of how we explain Christianity because our stories don't look like his? Is it possible we describe this faith in terms of theological concepts or religious/spiritual practices or moral values or propositional truth because we are comfortable that our subjective experience connects with those descriptions and not so much with the gospel record of his radical call to discipleship? 

I am deeply committed to my faith, and love the church Jesus founded, but am more and more aware that this story that we are called to live into presents a disturbing challenge to the contemporary experience of Christianity. I read the gospels and reluctantly ask if God really expects me to try and reflect that kind of life. And to my dismay there is a quiet, "Yes," in my spirit, "but I'll help." 

I was discussing some of these issues with a friend of mine this week, a deeply spiritual and thoughtful young man, who truly seeks to follow Jesus in this walk of discipleship. He commented to me that in his job he meets all sorts of people from all sorts of places and all different walks of life. Recently, in conversation about spirituality and faith a few have remarked to him, "You're not like any Christian I've ever met!"

There it is. I want to be that person. I want to be different to what people expect and for my life to look different to what is anticipated. Jesus wasn't like anyone that you would ever meet or ever anticipate encountering, and I don't think we should be either.

So what I want is that when people ask me what Christianity is all about (assuming my life gives them reason to), that I can tell the story of Jesus - without being embarrassed...

You're too friendly

My wife and I recently had a holiday in New Zealand, ten days in beautiful Queenstown. The whole area is stunningly beautiful, and I loved the 'vibe' of Queenstown and the wharf. The inevitable happened in our journey, however, when I was picked out by customs in both Brisbane and Queenstown for special attention.

Leaving Brisbane I was selected to undergo a full body scan. I had to remove everything from my pockets, stand in the middle of the scanner, raise my arms, and let the electromagnetic waves wash over me, all the while being assured by the officials that there was no danger of cancer or other health issues. To my credit I restrained myself - with great effort - from asking if the scan was conclusive proof I have a brain or was likely to activate any previously dormant super-powers. My wife was waiting for me and simply commented, "Trust you to get picked out."

When we were leaving Queenstown once again I was asked to step to one side whilst the security officer checked my bag and my clothes for what I can only assume was explosive or drug residue. I had a chat with him and discovered he was a Christian, we discussed mutual authors/teachers we enjoy, and as I left he farewelled me with, "Have a good flight, Pastor. God bless." Once again my wife was waiting for me, but this time had given thought to my ongoing relationship with airport security and said, "You know what it is? You're just too friendly."

I thought about it. Am I too friendly? It seems that each time I have gone overseas I have been stopped for some sort of scan, search or swab. I thought it was because I look suspicious (not very likely), or have that suave 'James Bond' charisma (highly probable), but maybe she was right, maybe I'm just too friendly.

Whenever I go anywhere I like to chat. I chat to people in shops, restaurants, airports (obviously), coffee shops, sporting venues, pretty much anywhere. I like people and I like to hear their stories and their perspective on life. People interest me and I learn from them. I like to listen more than talk (which will astonish my friends), which means that people tend to talk to me. But apparently, when I'm chatty with airport security it raises their suspicions that I have something to hide and I should be investigated.

My wife is really rather clever, and I think she has a point. Airport security pick me out because they think I'm being chatty to cover up my nefarious agenda. Which made me feel sad. After all, since when has being friendly aroused suspicion? But when I really considered it, it's true, when a person, a stranger, is overly friendly we are suspicious that they have an agenda to manipulate us, sell us something, or otherwise take advantage of our good nature.

Is that the world we live in? Is it really a place where being friendly, too friendly, is a cause for suspicion? Is it a place where being chatty and liking people infers that there is some undisclosed agenda? Unfortunately, all too often, that is exactly the sort of world we live in.

So I am determined to bravely defy social conventions and challenge presuppositions and be friendly, chatty and gregarious. And I'm going to bring in the big guns to support my crusade because I think Jesus was a friendly person and would probably have been stopped by airport security as well!

I think Jesus was more than friendly, I think he was over friendly. He stopped and talked to the people the social conventions of his time required that he didn't. He talked to lepers, outcasts, prostitutes, tax collectors, Romans, Samaritans, in fact he seemed to take delight in striking up conversations with the kinds of people that no one else would. I think Jesus was chatty. I don't think (because I'm a realist and not super-spiritual) that every conversation Jesus had was about the kingdom of God and spiritual truth. Believe me, you don't get invited to too many wild parties if you're like that, and Jesus was invited to those parties, it's in the gospels.

In a world of suspicion and distrust being friendly and outgoing with no agenda or ulterior motive is an act of rebellion. You might almost say like being a light in a dark world. I don't mean *politely* friendly, I mean taking the time to chat, listen, care and laugh (possibly cry) with the people you meet. And yes, people will be suspicious; and yes, people will think you have an agenda; and yes, shopping and daily activities will take longer than they used to; and yes, you will get stopped and questioned and swabbed and scanned at airports - but the rebellion is worth it!

So airports of the world be warned! I don't travel very often, but when I do, I will be friendly! And you will stop me, and I will chat to you, and I will defy your presuppositions, and I will hopefully bring a little cheer to your day. And if it occurs that the next time I go on a flight I don't get stopped I will take it as a sign that I am doing something wrong and will have to try harder.

"Say something!!!"

I had a conversation with a friend of mine recently who is looking for answers to some situations in his life. He has been praying and seeking God and needs to get some sense of direction. Finally, in frustration he said to God, "Here I am needing to hear from you and you aren't saying anything!!!" In response, in a quiet place in his soul he heard the reply, "No, I'm not am I?"

God can be really frustrating at times. I've read the books and heard the sermons from people who seem to get daily, detailed instructions on what to do and where to go and who to talk to. I know people who must be God's favourites because he seems to communicate with them in ways the majority of us only dream about. I look at my life, my spiritual walk, my receptivity and wonder what's wrong with me? Why is God so quiet?

One of the confusing things about the people who hear from God all the time seems to be how often he changes his mind, or gets it wrong, or fails to mention the fine-print or repercussions of his instructions. I think the reality is that we all struggle to hear from God, and are thankful and vocal about when we do, and a little more quiet when we don't.

I've heard from God very clearly a number of times in my life. I heard from God today. I am facing some decisions and I opened my daily Bible reading and the passages I read spoke straight into my situation. Not in the, "Go and do this..." way but in a way that assured me God was aware of what was going on in my life and gave a hint of what I should be thinking as I make decisions.

I thought about what my friend said, about the times when God is intentionally silent, about the times when I've needed to hear from him and he hasn't said anything, and about the times when I know my Father has spoken to me. I thought about all the times I thought I'd heard from him and unless he's as confused and clueless as me, I didn't. I thought about the times when stunningly and unquestionably God has comforted, directed and vividly communicated with me.

I thought about all those things and I realised there was a pattern - the pattern was that there was no pattern!

You're probably reading this having had your daily conversation with God, having received clear instruction and guidance, and shaking your head at such a sorry and hopeless soul such as I am. Only, I've been around a while now and met lots of followers of Jesus along the way and had lots of conversations with them and I've discovered that you're probably not wondering what's wrong with me because your experience has been the same. You've experienced the same response my friend did. You've asked for answers or direction or just something to at least let you know he's listening and when you've accused him of keeping quiet he's merely affirmed that yes, he is.

One of the basic tenets of my faith, based on God's self-revelation in the Bible, is that he is interested, present and intimately involved in my life. It is seen most clearly in the incarnation when "The Word became flesh and dwelt among us..." (John 1:14). It makes sense, then, that there has been no pattern to when I have heard from God because my relationship with him isn't a formula, but just that, a relationship. There are times when I have heard from him through the Bible, times when I have heard quietly in prayer, times when he has spoken through other people, times when he has communicated with me through circumstances or through events in my life, and times when his silence has encouraged me to make the decision that seems most right and correct in my understanding of what it means to follow Jesus.

The randomness of God's communication to me reminds me that he is present in the randomness of life. That his voice isn't reserved for a certain time or place or posture but is heard in the people, places, circumstances and experiences of life. That because he is immanent - intimately present, the God who is with us - he can be heard in many ways and in many places and even through my own thoughts and decisions.

I am glad I heard from God through the Bible this morning. In some sense I hear from him through his Word everyday, but there are times when the clarity is deeply appreciated.

And there are those other times, the normal times, when I want him to say something and he just smiles, and stays quiet, and I remember that maybe his voice is found in making the choices I hesitate to make, doing the things I don't want to do, following the path that stretches before me, or simply just doing what makes the most sense.

So those times when I want God to say something and he doesn't, it's good for me to remember that in so many ways, he already has...