Lockdown Reflections 8

How do we fight the bad guys? And we do like to fight them, don’t we? We might say that we dislike violence, but that’s not totally true. So many of the films, TV series, novels, and computer games that we choose as entertainment are about war and conflict. We love the gripping endings when the hero defeats villain and justice is done. And we long to see the same in real life, too. We want the Putin's of this world to get their comeuppance. But often the ways we go about this are counter-productive – violence has a habit of producing more violence, spinning out of control. So how should we fight the bad guys? There’s a clue in Michaelmas, which is marked in the church calendar this week. It’s the celebration of the archangel Michael, who appears in the Bible’s book of Revelation. Revelation is an apocalyptic vision seen by Jesus’ disciple, John, when he was an old man imprisoned for his beliefs. The narrative begins in striking style: “Then another sign appeared in heaven: an enormous red dragon with seven heads and ten horns and seven crowns on its heads” (Chapter 12 verse 1). This fearsome apparition pursues and tries to kill a woman with a new-born baby, then in its rage unleashes war and destruction on earth. It’s a depiction of how the powers of evil force themselves on the weak and vulnerable, wreaking terror and violence. Originally referring to Roman persecution of Christians, the ‘enormous red dragon’ represents every tyrant in every age. When all seems lost, the archangel Michael suddenly blasts into John’s vision: “Then war broke out in heaven. Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon and his angels fought back.” This striking image has inspired artwork in churches for centuries. These always show Michael as a tough, heavily armed, dashing male soldier, who’d fit perfectly in a Hollywood movie or as a poster-boy for army-recruitment adverts. Not to disappoint us, we read that “the great dragon was hurled down.” That’s how to fight the bad guys, right? Smash them in the face. Well, maybe not. The Bible passage continues that the people under attack triumphed over the dragon in battle, “by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony; they did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death.” John means this. Jesus defeated evil by self-giving enemy love on the cross, and his followers beat their enemies by copying him – telling the good news of that first Easter, and willingly giving their own lives rather than killing and fighting in return. If that sounds like an insane way to fight the bad guys, maybe The Lego Movie and Lord of the Rings can help us understand it better. In the Lego Movie, evil President Business is trying to take over the Lego universe and glue it all together so he can totally control everything and everyone. He is opposed by the Master Builders, the coolest and most creative inhabitants of the Lego world who are committed to stopping this evil plan. However, they can’t beat the tyrant, and the hero of the story turns out to be an apparently dull character called Emmet. Despite not being creative or brave or smart, he manages to rescue the Lego world. But he doesn’t do this by blowing President Business to smithereens. Instead, he persuades him that he, too, President Business, is special, as is everyone. President Business is moved by what Emmet says, unfreezes his victims and abandons his dastardly plan. In Lord of the Rings, the evil Lord Sauron is determined to take over the whole world by force and terror. The massed ranks of dwarf, elf, and human armies can’t stop him. But he is defeated ultimately by Frodo Baggins. This isn’t because Frodo is a better warrior or a more powerful wizard than anyone else. He’s a hobbit – a race of small, lazy, cowardly creatures. He has no obvious qualifications for job of saviour of the universe. But he finds a magic ring, the most powerful thing in the world, and to defeat Sauron he must destroy the ring and make himself weak, resisting the temptation to use it himself. In these stories love and forgiveness and self-denial by apparently weak people defeat the forces of hell where tactical genius and physical strength fail. The message of Michael and the dragon is the same. It tells us two important things. There is a battle between good and evil, so we shouldn’t be shocked or surprised when we encounter suffering. But God defeats evil in a surprising way. Jesus didn’t lead a big army and blast his enemies – he defeated the devil by loving his enemies and dying on the cross to forgive our sins and rising again to give us new life. Unfortunately, the church in the past has often got this wrong, mistaking symbols and signs like Michael and the dragon for real life. When it does that it ends up blessing crusades, weapons and armies. Maybe because that’s the human thing to do – we really do seem enchanted by violence. Michaelmas teaches us a much better message: that the sort of self-giving, humble love that Jesus showed us is much more powerful. And that’s how we should fight the bad guys.

Let’s mark Martin Luther King Day by asking how we can better value other people in 2022 - and seek an end to the practices and systems that dehumanise so many.

The first time that Wallsend came across my radar, as I was just finishing school in my hometown Scunthorpe, was in the Sting song, ‘All This Time.’ Sting – or Gordon Sumner, as he was called when growing up in Wallsend – wrote the song about the death of his father. My favourite verse is this one: “The teachers told us, the Romans built this place; They built a wall and a temple, and an edge of the empire garrison town. They lived and they died, they prayed to their gods, But the stone gods did not make a sound; And their empire crumbled, 'til all that was left, Were the stones the workmen found.” The Roman Empire, like the British Empire and so many others in history, saw itself as a great, unshakable civilisation that was uniquely blessed by God. Yet as Sting’s song points out, its gods and its certainties crumbled and fell and we now go and look at them in museums like Segedunum. The writer of Psalm 102 spoke of a time of great distress, anxiety and sadness in his life. He was so distraught and depressed that he was wasting away, losing his appetite and unable to look after himself: “My heart is blighted and withered like grass; I forget to eat my food. In my distress I groan aloud and am reduced to skin and bones.” (verses 4-5). Misery was so much part of him that he said, “I eat ashes as my food, and mingle my drink with tears.” Life feels very fragile and fleeting to him – "My days are like the evening shadow, I wither away like grass” , he puts it in verse 11. We can all relate to that at some time in life, when things get so hard we feel we can’t go on, that there’s nothing positive in the future for us. Where does the writer of the Psalm find consolation and comfort? As he continues, “But you, Lord, sit enthroned forever; your renown endures through all generations.” Our human lives and loved ones, plans, jobs, buildings and countries pass away. The trust we put in other people, families, governments, institutions and even churches is so often disappointed. But how wonderful that we can place our trust and hope in the everlasting God who reigns and rules forever. Not only that: this great God “will respond to the prayer of the destitute, he will not despise their plea” (v.17). His character never changes, he is just and merciful and tender and patient and loving, and will sustain us through all eternity. Let us trust in him when our days seem dark.

Latest reflections post delivered by Nick Megoran.

We are a baptist church, part of the Northern Baptist Association, and the national Baptist Union. The following statement comes from the Baptist union and can be found on their website https://www.baptist.org.uk/Articles/579501/George_Floyd_our.aspx The inhumane and merciless brutality demonstrated towards George Floyd last week was an appalling act of injustice and reveals yet again the ugly reality of deeply ingrained institutional racism in the USA. The authentic response of a people who follow a God who delights in justice and righteousness is to stand together in solidarity and protest in the face of such insidious evil. The death of George Floyd must also drive us to some serious heart-searching of our own. The spotlight is not simply shining on 'them over there' but also on us here in our own context. Baptists Together hold a common value; that we are a Movement which shares a hunger for God’s coming Kingdom and seeks to confront evil, injustice and hypocrisy and challenges worldly attitudes to power, wealth, status and security both within and beyond our Union. Right now God is presenting us with the opportunity to grow more deeply into this value and, in doing so, to unleash a prophetic call and presence in our communities and nations. It is so important that you read carefully and take to heart the articles and reflections that express the angry and frustrated voice of the oppressed and also of those who are in solidarity with them. The time for superficial platitudes and excuses really is well and truly over. My plea is that we seize this moment and take some giant leaps forward in terms of becoming the kind of Kingdom Movement that God is calling us towards – beautiful, just, loving and rejoicing in the richness of the global church and the whole of humanity. See the website page above for other relevant reflections and statements.

The pandemic reminds us that, as humans, we are much more frail and weak than we like to think. At the time of writing, there have been almost 5 million reported Covid-19 cases worldwide. Just three months ago the virus was confined to one part of China, but despite of all our efforts to control, prevent or cure it, it has reached every country on earth apart from a few Pacific Island nations and Turkmenistan and North Korea (if we can trust the governments of those two countries, which I don’t). The majority of people who contract Covid-19 survive. But it would not be hard to imagine a virus emerging that was far more deadly and which, despite our best efforts, we could not stop from wiping out much of humanity in a short space of time. In the Bible, the prophet Isaiah said this: “All flesh is like grass, and all its glory like the flowers of the field. The grass withers and the flowers fall when the breath of the LORD blows on them; indeed, the people are grass. The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God stands forever.” Isaiah’s words ring in my ears at this time. We like to think that we are invincible, as individuals (‘nothing is going to stop me!’) and as civilisations (‘We can master this world through our scientific achievements and wealth’). But the truth is we are indeed weak and frail. However, this frailty should not lead us to despair or fear. On the contrary, as John Scott’s lovely old hymn Immortal, Invisible puts it: “We blossom and flourish as leaves on the tree / And wither and perish, but nought changeth Thee.” Being reminded of our own weakness leads us to the worship and praise of our everlasting God, because “the word of our God stands forever.” He is unchanging and his character is constant, always loving of his people and mighty to save. He alone is a dependable foundation on which to build our lives and face eternity. In the first chapter of his first letter in the New Testament, Peter quotes this passage from Isaiah and says, “you have been born again, not of perishable seed, but of imperishable, through the living and enduring word of God” (v23). Because Jesus died for our sins and rose again to make us right with God, we know that if we believe in him we have everlasting life and do not need to be afraid of our frailty and weakness. Instead, it points us to joyfully praise the unchanging God of Heaven: Immortal, invisible, God only wise, In light inaccessible hid from our eyes, Most blessed, most glorious, the Ancient of Days, Almighty, victorious, Thy great name we praise.

Conclusion to our Big Questions

In the Bible, Ecclesiastes 3: 11 says that God “has put eternity in their hearts .” It’s an intriguing verse, that is usually interpreted to mean that each of us has a God-given, in-built sense that there’s more to life than what we can see. We know deep down that the material life of been born, keeping alive and reproducing the species, and then dying, isn’t what life’s essentially about. We all yearn for something more – for value, for purpose, for meaning, for justice. Even people who say that they are atheists sense that yearning and fill it with something else –career, pleasure, shopping, relationships, good work, etc. These never satisfy. As Christians, we know who the source of that yearning is, and who alone can satisfy it – God, revealed to us in Jesus Christ. As Saint Augustine famously prayed, ‘You made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they find their rest in you.’ We can try and forget this sense of ‘eternity’, but the nagging questions about value, purpose and meaning never go away. At a time like this it is harder than ever to forget them. Questions like ‘What’s the purpose of life?’, ‘What happens after I die?’, ‘Is God there?’, ‘Why do bad things happen?’ and ‘Am I in control of my destiny?’ are simply harder to avoid at the moment. Francis Thomson (1859-1907), was an opium addict living rough in London, who came to faith in God after years of evading these ‘big questions.’ He wrote about this in his famous poem where he depicts God as ‘The hound of heaven’ in pursuit of him: I FLED Him, down the nights and down the days; I fled Him, down the arches of the years; I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears I hid from Him, and under running laughter. Up vistaed hopes I sped; And shot, precipitated, Adown Titanic glooms of chasmèd fears, From those strong Feet that followed, followed after. But with unhurrying chase, And unperturbèd pace, Deliberate speed, majestic instancy, They beat—and a Voice beat More instant than the Feet— ‘All things betray thee, who betrayest Me.’ In these difficult times, we may sense ‘the hound’ hot on our heels as we think about life’s big questions. At the end of the poem, Francis encounters ‘the hound’ personally, as God says to him: All which thy child’s mistake Fancies as lost, I have stored for thee at home: Rise, clasp My hand, and come!... ‘Ah, fondest, blindest, weakest, I am He Whom thou seekest! Is the hound on our heels, too? Peace - Nick