What transforming conversations I’d have if I could see the world with the eyes of Jesus.

It was one of the odder conversations I’ve had. We had just moved to New Zealand and were in a temporary house while the church manse we were to stay at was being finished. Being new, I wanted to get to know our neighbors and seeing the one on our left hand side in his yard, I popped my head over the fence to say hello. He was very friendly and showed interest in who I was and where I was from. I felt welcomed and as though we could become friends. And then a  strange thing happened. “This is such a perfect country” he said. “And it would be completely perfect if it weren’t for all the **** immigrants who are flooding in. They are taking our country over. It’s an absolute disgrace.” On and on he went about how awful immigrants are.. And then he stopped, handed me his hand to shake, and said, “Lovely to meet you. I hope you will be very happy. Welcome to New Zealand. I’m so glad you are here.”

I was left feeling – “Well I don’t know what that was about. Should I feel insulted and defensive because I am one of these dreadful immigrants ruining the country, or should I accept his welcome at face value?” Slowly it dawned on me. His welcome of me was as genuine as it was warm. He was glad I was in the country, glad I was his neighbour. Even though I was an immigrant, he didn’t think of me as one. Why? I’m not sure. I had told him very clearly where I was from and he had asked me lots of questions about it. But in spite of that, he didn’t think of me as an immigrant. Perhaps it was because English is my first language and I speak it pretty well, or perhaps it was my skin colour, or perhaps it was because I had started by giving him a few lemons off our tree – I really don’t know, but whatever the reason was, he considered me part of “us” not part of “them”.

It’s lovely to belong – to feel part of something, to feel that you fit in. But so very many don’t…

Think of the astonishing account recorded in John 4, when Jesus had a conversation with a Samaritan woman who was drawing water from a well at midday. 

If you are versed in the Jewish culture of Jesus’ time, there are enough clues to alert you that this conversation shouldn’t have been taking place.

Put them together:

• Jesus was Jewish but was passing through Samaritan territory. Jews and Samaritans hated each other in the way that only “sort of but not really” relatives could – for indeed, the Samaritans had been part of Israel until the conquest of the Northern Kingdom by the Assyrians in 722BC had seen their land decimated and intermarriage with the victorious Assyrians become common. While Samaritans held on to vestiges of Judaism, they had intermarried, worshiped at a different temple, understood the Torah differently, and were beyond the pale so far as the Jews were concerned. Jews and Samaritans kept their distance from each other.

• Second. Jewish males did not engage in casual conversations with women. That would be seen as deeply inappropriate. Realistically, it would have  been strange if Jesus started a conversation with a Samaritan man, but for him to do that with a Samaritan woman – well really, what was he thinking?

• Third, this was midday and the woman was drawing water alone. Big clue that. In a highly sociable society, why would she be drawing water in the heat of the day when it was a start of the day task. You didn’t have to be too smart to pick that she was an outsider. The other women wouldn’t talk to her. She was ostracized – forced to go about her life on her own. And soon the reason for that becomes clear.

• Fourth  – it wasn’t just that she was an outsider, she was a most dubious outsider. She had 5 previous marriages – seriously 5 – and what was worse, the man she was now living with was not her husband. Clearly she was bad news, not the sort of woman you would want your husband to chat to.

So why does Jesus stop and chat to her? 

It’s a good question. Clearly he wasn’t interested in appearances, because this wasn’t a “look good” moment. People would question his judgment about this. 

So why does Jesus speak to her?

Because Jesus sees her in a way no one else does. While others wrote her off as a dodgy Samaritan woman with a compromised past and an equally compromised present, Jesus sees her as a woman made in the image of God – a woman who in her own way was searching for God and the presence of God. Strip all the trivial surface details away, and you see not a compromised woman, but a wounded image bearer, longing for home, longing for God, longing to belong.

It is the deep empathy of Jesus that helps him see beyond the surface – helps Him to see the God image in her.

In a world divided by “them and us” “insiders and outsiders”, a new way of seeing is needed. There is how I see the world – and then there is how Jesus sees the world. If I could more often see the world with the eyes of Jesus, what transforming conversations I would have…

Article supplied with thanks to Brian Harris.

About the Author: Brian is a speaker, teacher, leader, writer, author and respected theologian who is founding director of the AVENIR Leadership Institute, fostering leaders who will make a positive impact on the world.

Feature image: Canva

Not all images work. I wasn’t at all sure that this one would. The speaker was likening life to an egg – not a hard boiled one, long dead and simply waiting to be eaten, but one of those with a fledgling chick inside.

As the young bird attempts to come out, it pecks away at the shell from the inside. Recognising how tough the task is, you might well be tempted to lend a hand and give the shell a little tap to break it open and hasten the birds release. Apparently that’s a big no no. If you do, you have almost certainly sealed the chicks fate. There is something about it breaking free from its shell that gives it the strength needed to survive. Short circuit the struggle, and you leave it vulnerable, even doomed.

The Preacher’s Take

I’ve been a preacher long enough to know that the illustration could be developed in numerous ways. I leant in to see what this preacher (who was relatively new to preaching) would make of it.

“Life,” he said, “is like an egg. You often feel trapped by it, and there are things that hold you back. It’s the shell that surrounds you. You worry about what others think of you, and their opinions matter too much. You can’t stretch out and truly be yourself. You’ve got to do the work on the inside. As you change internally, you get the strength to peck away at what initially seems like an insurmountable barrier. As you grown inwardly, you get stronger, until the day comes when you are strong enough to break free from the shell holding you back. That’s how you step into life.”

Short Cuts and Their Cost

“However,” he added, “some of us look for short cuts. We welcome a bit of extra help from outside, but in doing so, we give away too much. Instead of smashing our barriers, they smash us.”

The key application point then followed. “Do the inner work you need to enable you to smash through life’s barriers. Once you have done that, you are free to live the life you have been called to – unafraid of public opinion and the forces calling you to be less than you should.”

The Half-Truth Problem

It was a fair point, and I’m definitely in favour of people doing the hard inner work that brings deep change. Short cuts usually backfire, and years later we often lament not laying an adequate foundation for what we didn’t anticipate would lie ahead.

So do the hard inner work you need to, for it will indeed produce a rich harvest over time.

For all that, I found myself wanting to push back. Not that sermons really allow you to do that. The average preacher does not welcome congregants jumping up and saying, “I hardly think so,” and I am also acutely aware of the homely wisdom that it is “Better to be silent and thought a fool, than to open your mouth and remove all doubt!”

It isn’t that I thought what the preacher said was wrong, simply that it was only a half truth – and you probably know the follow up to that… “when a half truth is made out to be the whole truth it becomes an untruth.”

Two Missing Words

Does it all depend upon me? Can I really do all the hard inner work required to transform me? Don’t others contribute to my formation, and doesn’t the Bible speak about the fruit of the Spirit, rather than the fruit of my incredibly hard work (Gal 5:22-23). I think the illustration missed two important words – community and grace.

Community, because the Bible is filled with “one another” verses. Coming from the Greek word allelon (one another, each other, mutually), it pops up about 100 times in scripture: Love one another, forgive one another, teach one another, care for one another, bear with one another, do not lie to one another – to name a few.

Grace, because that’s the heart of the Christian message. Actually I don’t save myself, I do need forgiveness, I can’t make it on my own.

A Better Ending to the Point

Is this a petty “so there” squabble? Clever me. Point scored!

Not really.

By all means, be all you can be, strive to be the best version of yourself that you can, do what it takes to build inner resilience. And as you walk that worthy road, you will realise (again and again and again) how often we need one another, and how constantly we need the grace of God.

May God give you (and me) the blessing of rich community, and the deepest awareness of grace, as we walk the worthiest of routes…

Article supplied with thanks to Brian Harris.

About the Author: Brian is a speaker, teacher, leader, writer, author and respected theologian who is founding director of the AVENIR Leadership Institute, fostering leaders who will make a positive impact on the world.

Feature image: Canva

I don’t know what you think of the new fad of bringing old authors to life. It’s pretty widespread, and you can now read new Poirot or Miss Marple mysteries written not by Agatha Christie but by her fans, or dive into a new Ian Fleming novel (Anthony Horowitz of Foyle’s War fame is taking this on) or read a fresh take on Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes.

Some fictional characters are able to capture the imagination of multiple generations, and become a permanent fixture in our collective consciousness – after all, most of us have heard of James Bond or Poirot or Sherlock’s Dr Watson – even though their original creators are long dead.

True, not everyone appreciates the changes! My wonderful wife Rosemary is amongst them, and when we watch the Marple TV series there are frequent outbursts of “that’s outrageous” as she notes how the revised interpretation deviates from the original. Having said that, we both agree that Marple: 12 New Stories – by 12 different authors, is well worth the read.

Why this start? 

I’ve often reflected on how remarkable the Bible’s ongoing popularity is. After all, it is a book that was written over a period of about 1600 years, by around 40 different authors (none of whom realised where their writing would land up) and completed almost 2000 years ago. Who would pay attention to it today – other than for a handful of scholars interested in antiquity? Yet it is comfortably the worlds all time best seller (to say nothing of the hundred of millions of free copies that have been given away). Why is it still so popular?

There are many different answers. 

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks in his excellent book Morality notes that the ancient Rabbis spoke of the “70 different faces of the text” and argued that you hadn’t understood a biblical passage until you had considered at least 70 different possible meanings (or faces) for each account. It’s a fascinating insight, and one which I increasingly appreciate. Indeed, when you next read a passage from the Bible instead of saying “Hmmm, now let me remember, what is it that this passage means,” why not ask, “What is it that I have not noticed in this passage before?” I’ve been reading the Bible for well over 50 years and am stunned at how often I have a fresh answer to that question.

Another is that the Bible claims that its writing was inspired by God, or as 2 Tim 3:16 puts it, “All scripture is God-breathed…” Now given that’s a claim the Bible makes for itself I understand that some will view the claim with more than a little scepticism – in much the same way as we don’t take the promotional claims of most books seriously. But this one is worth deep thought, not so much because the claim is made, but because the history of the Bible demonstrates that at least at some level, it must be true. At the very, very least it is an inspired text in the way that Shakespeare and Dickens are inspired (they have inspired multiple generations and the genius of their writing is widely recognised) – but dig a little deeper and I think you will conclude that it is more than just that kind of inspiration. This is a book that has changed the world – and that is not hyperbole. Be it the 10 commandments, or the Sermon on the Mount, or Paul’s teaching about love in 1 Cor 13, or the story of David up against Goliath, or the Parable of the Good Samaritan, and you realise that these passages have shaped the way we view reality and how we treat one another. I think the impact statement of the Bible on the world is enough evidence to suggest that its claim to be God-breathed is “probably true” – to cite part of the title of my book on apologetics.

Now I know that some will object to these comments and quickly remind us of the more blood thirsty passages in the Bible. The Bible is an adult book, and as we read it we make choices about how we will interpret it. There are indeed 70 different faces to every text, but not each face is as good as the others. Some interpretations favour a dangerous face, or an oppressive face, and we must learn to see beyond them. I aim for a Christological reading of the text – in other words one which reads the overall biblical text in the light of the story of Jesus. The question to ask is: In the light of Jesus, how should this passage now be understood?

Not only is the Bible God inspired, but it is Spirit illuminated. Having inspired the writing of the Bible, the Spirit helps us to interpret it. In very practical ways the Spirit draws our attention to passages that are relevant to our situation. Ps 119 spends most of its 176 verses extolling the value of Scripture. A repeated refrain is that it gives light to us, most famously in v105: “Your word is a lamp to my feet, a light to my path.” When I read this book, I get light for the path I must travel, I am guided on the steps I should take.

I could go on, but my hope is not that you would read my words today, but that if you have let your reading of Scripture fade, you would read it in a fresh new way – asking to see things you have not noticed before, confident that it speaks in hopeful new ways to ever changing circumstances. And so that I don’t just say this – let me point you to Psalm 3, which I have been contemplating recently. It was written by David when he was facing a situation that seemed near impossible. It speaks of the God who is our shield (v3), the reason we can sleep deeply (v5) and our deliverer (v8). Here it is:

Psalm 3

1 Lord, how many are my foes!

    How many rise up against me!

2 Many are saying of me,

    “God will not deliver him.”

3 But you, Lord, are a shield around me,

    my glory, the One who lifts my head high.

4 I call out to the Lord,

    and he answers me from his holy mountain.

5 I lie down and sleep;

    I wake again, because the Lord sustains me.

6 I will not fear though tens of thousands

    assail me on every side.

7 Arise, Lord!

    Deliver me, my God!

Strike all my enemies on the jaw;

    break the teeth of the wicked.

8 From the Lord comes deliverance.

    May your blessing be on your people.

Article supplied with thanks to Brian Harris.

About the Author: Brian is a speaker, teacher, leader, writer, author and respected theologian who is founding director of the AVENIR Leadership Institute, fostering leaders who will make a positive impact on the world.

Feature image: Canva

I’ve always been intrigued by Jesus’ instruction, “Let your ‘Yes’ be ‘Yes,’ and your ‘No,’ ‘No’; anything beyond this comes from the evil one” (Matt 5:37).

It’s refreshingly simple, and an invitation to engage in straightforward speech and make promises that can be trusted. If I say ‘Yes, I will do that’ I should do it. If I need to add 25 qualifiers (provided the weather is good, or I don’t get a better offer, or…), I am in real danger of becoming untrustworthy – someone whose word never means anything more than “perhaps”.

What Jesus Isn’t Saying

Now there are things that I don’t think Jesus means when he says this. I don’t think it is a prohibition on curiosity (“don’t ask me why, I have already said no”). Nor do I think it is glorifying monosyllabic communication, where we refuse to allow others to understand our way of thinking and we keep them at arms length – simply cutting them off with a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’.

Context: Oaths, Evasion, and Speech that Reveals

When understanding any passage of Scripture, context is important. In this instance it is Jesus warning against making oaths that look good, but which you are unlikely to keep (Matt 5:33-37). Jesus was beyond exasperated at the practice of making promises which could be easily broken – often by appealing to some supposedly noble cause that was simply an escape route from responsibility. His point is simple. Speech is supposed to reveal, not conceal. Beware those whose words have hidden meanings, or who use noble words to gloss over deep wrongs. Speech should accurately reflect your intentions, and if it does not, it “comes from the evil one”.

Now many may think this is a not very subtle jab at politicians who use thousands of words to say nothing, or to hide the real issues. The old joke goes, “How do you know when a politician is lying?” Answer: “Their lips are moving.” Ouch. Yes, that is the kind of situation Jesus is trying to avoid – let ‘Yes’ be ‘Yes’ – Let ‘No’ be ‘No’.

Values as the Anchor of Clear Decisions

A while back someone did something to me that was clearly wrong. An indignant and well meaning friend immediately dived in with some advice on how I should retaliate.

“No – no I’m not going to do that,” I replied.

“But why not?” he asked. “In the circumstances it’s a relatively mild response. You can’t just let them get away with it.”

I paused for a moment, considered his view, and then said again. “No – no I’m not going to do that.”

“But why not?” he asked again.

I paused and thought some more, and then said, “Because I wouldn’t be me if I did that. It’s just not who I am. And just because someone else behaved badly doesn’t mean I should as well.”

“Hmmm. perhaps,” he replied, clearly not fully convinced.

I think ‘No’ is ‘No’ and ‘Yes’ is ‘Yes’ when our values guide our decisions. And Jesus (as always) is right; anything more in those circumstances comes from the evil one. Saying more feeds the temptation to back away from who we are and what our commitments are, especially if holding to our yes or no has become a little difficult.

Now naturally I am not pushing for the dangerous or the reckless. Just because you said ‘Yes’ to a husband who beats and torments you, does not mean that you are forever saddled with that tragic ‘Yes’. Sometimes our ‘Yes’ must turn into the firmest ‘No’. Sometimes…

A Practical Invitation: Review Your Recent “Yes” and “No”

So why this post? I don’t think we are at risk of failing to realise that there are times when ‘yes’ can (and should) become ‘no’. I think the greater risk is that we are forgetting that words are not meant to be twisted. That promises should be linked to values. That if we need endless words and explanations to justify a decision, it’s usually a warning that the decision is poor.

Why not think over 4 or 5 recent decisions that you have made? What led you to decide as you did? Was it for purely pragmatic reasons. If so, pragmatism might be an adequate reason for those decisions to change. But which of your decisions flowed directly from your values? Ah… this is where the amber warning light starts to flash. When pragmatism steers you away from your value based decisions ask yourself, “At what point do I stop becoming me. Because if I no longer hold to my values, who am I?”

And why not aim for a week where ‘Yes’ is ‘Yes’ and ‘No’ is ‘No’ – and you delight in the simplicity and responsibility of this…

Article supplied with thanks to Brian Harris.

About the Author: Brian is a speaker, teacher, leader, writer, author and respected theologian who is founding director of the AVENIR Leadership Institute, fostering leaders who will make a positive impact on the world.

Feature image: Canva

He had expressed his Christian faith simply: “I am trying to follow the words, the works and the way of Jesus.”

I thought it a helpful summary of what it means to be a Christian, or as the term was originally understood – one who follows the Christ. While it is disarmingly simple (and great for those in favour of alliteration) there is more to it than first meets the eye.

While it might not sound very radical to say that the Christian faith revolves around Jesus, in practice, it is very radical – especially when its the words and the works and the way of Jesus that we commit ourselves to.

The Words of Jesus

Consider the words of Jesus. There is nothing status quo about them. They are penetrating, uncompromising and deeply prophetic. People often found them offensive, and I don’t mean mildly offensive, but offensive enough to get Him crucified.

To insist that we love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us (Matt 5:44), or that we shouldn’t store up treasures on earth (Matt 6:19) or that we must not worry (Matt 6:25) and that we refrain from judging others (Matt 7:1) – well I don’t know if any of those come naturally to you, but they certainly don’t to me.

Or what do you make of his redefinition of family – that those who did the will of God are “my brother and sister and mother” (Matt 12:50). Even more challenging is Jesus’ insistence that anyone who wants to follow him must take up their cross to do so (Matt 16:24). And those are just a few verses from Matthew. Throw in the instructions from Mark, Luke and John and it becomes ever clearer that Jesus didn’t imagine that his average follower would live a comfortable lifestyle with endless coffees, crumpets and cream.

The Works of Jesus

Then there are the works of Jesus. They range – there are many miraculous healings, encounters with the demonic, thousands are fed, weather patterns are changed, tables in the temple are overturned, the dead are raised.

Jesus also interacts with unlikely characters – tax collectors, prostitutes, and those on the fringes. He also converses with those deeply entrenched in the religious and political structure of his day. Those conversations were usually challenging. Overall there were many discussions and lots of teaching.

Is teaching a “work”? Well, when you are engaging in the near impossible task of changing people’s thoughts and attitudes it is… very hard work, and at times extremely dangerous work. It led to a fair amount of travel – on foot and sometimes to less hostile environments (well, less hostile at the start).

In Luke 4:18-19 Jesus defines his work in terms used in Isa 61:1-2: “The Spirit of the Lord is on me because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.” Interestingly he omits part of Isaiah’s prophecy, deleting from Isaiah’s Messianic job description the task of proclaiming “the year of vengeance of our God.”

Doing the Works of Jesus Today

What does this mean for the works we should do? Perhaps it is best to remember Jesus’ teaching in Matt 25:31-46 when Jesus announces that when we invite the stranger in, or clothe the naked, or look after the sick, or visit the prisoner, we do it for Him.

He goes further, provocatively suggesting that in some way he is that stranger, that sick person, the one who has no clothes, or the one who is in prison. Given this startling teaching it is hard to see how someone could claim to be doing the works of Jesus if acts of compassion don’t appear high on the list of activities.

The Way of Jesus

Then there is the way of Jesus. It’s an upside down way. According to Jesus, the first will be last (Matt 20:16), those who seek to find their life lose it, while those willing to lose their life find it (Matt 16:25). Those who seek the Kingdom of God before anything else find that they get everything else (Matt 6:33).

It’s a world where leaders are servants and the well being of the other rather than their own, is the motivator (Matt 20:26). It’s a step by step way. Though I’m in favour of careful and thoughtful planning, in many ways Jesus’ ministry was one of wandering around and responding to things that happened.

He doesn’t wake up and announce a to do list where the agenda for the day is to heal 4 blind people, 2 lepers and to confront 5 religious leaders. He elects to visit various places and on the way sees many things… What he sees calls a response from him. He interacts deeply with all that happens along the way. Perhaps we should as well…

Following to the Cross

What does it mean to be a follower of Jesus – a Christian? Yes, it is true that it means that we follow the words, works and way of Jesus… But oh my, how much easier to say those three ‘w’ words, than to actually have our agenda shaped by them.

Somedays we follow a little more closely than others – on too many days, we follow not at all. Perhaps that is why the following we do comes out to a Cross – where there is forgiveness and mercy and the challenge to follow the words, works and way of the crucified, risen Messiah.

Article supplied with thanks to Brian Harris.

About the Author: Brian is a speaker, teacher, leader, writer, author and respected theologian who is founding director of the AVENIR Leadership Institute, fostering leaders who will make a positive impact on the world.

Feature image: Canva

I don’t know if you enjoy the Peanuts cartoon characters but in one memorable sketch the ever philosophical Linus bursts out: “I love humanity – its people I can’t stand.”

Love is so much easier when it’s theoretical. And there are indeed some extraordinary visions of what love is.

A Breathtaking Portrait of Love

St Paul’s portrait in 1 Cor 13 is breathtaking. Do you remember this part of it: “Love is patient and kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud… love keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth… love never fails…“ Beautiful – truly beautiful – a gorgeous passage to read at weddings – but what does it mean in practice?

Love in Action: The Upper Room

If you want to see love in action, turn to John 13:1-17. Jesus and his disciples have arrived at the room where they will eat their last meal together before Jesus’ crucifixion. Usually before a meal of this significance there would be a servant present who would wash the dust from each person’s feet. After all, this was a dusty climate and people wore open sandals – yes the disciples feet were dirty, and that didn’t seem right when they were sitting down to a sacred Passover meal together. So in the absence of a servant, the unacknowledged question was: Who will do the footwashing?

The Awkward Silence—and Jesus’ Stunning Choice

Clearly it would be the lowest of the disciples – but who was that? No one wanted to acknowledge their lowly status, so an awkward turning a blind eye takes place. It’s as though by mutual consent the disciples agree to say nothing about their dusty feet. And then love in action takes place… Jesus stands up, removes his outer garment, drapes a towel around himself, pours a bowl of water, and systematically works his way around the room washing each of their feet. It is simultaneously profoundly moving and beautiful, while also being deeply uncomfortable. Why is it Jesus who is doing this menial task?

Peter expresses the awkwardness of the group. “No, no” he objects. “You will never wash my feet.” But Jesus replies that unless he allows him to, he will no longer be part of the band of disciples. “If that’s the case” Peter blurts out, then wash my hands and head as well. Jesus looks at him in bemusement…Effectively he say “Don’t be silly. I’m only cleaning what needs cleaning. Love is not theoretical. It is established in moments like these. It’s down to earth. It isn’t about position, or how dignified you are or aren’t – it’s about doing what is needed. And at the moment in this room there were a dozen set of feet that needed cleaning, so that’s what I am doing.”

I’m old enough to remember the 1964 version of My Fair Lady where an exasperated Eliza Dolittle – absolutely frustrated at the non stop talk of love expressed by her suitor Freddie, bursts out: 

Words words, I’m so sick of words 

Don’t talk of stars 

Burning above; 

If you’re in love, 

Show me! 

Show me….

Three Layers of Meaning

For all that, the exchange between Jesus and Peter establishes three points. At level one, there were feet needing to be cleaned – so Jesus did that. At level two, there are always menial practical things to be done, and none of his disciples should consider themselves too high and mighty to do them. Jesus reminds them that he has set an example for them. They should do comparable things. And then at the third level, this was a symbol of the cleansing the disciples would receive through the Cross of Jesus – and remember the crucifixion was about a dozen hours away. The weight of sin would be washed away through the blood and death of Jesus – it’s a profound mystery, but deeply true. This is love – love in action.

The Question We Can’t Dodge

So here’s the question? What does love in action look like for you? No theoretical answers wanted. Sorry, “I love humanity, it’s people I can’t stand” won’t hack it. But eyes open to the footwashing needed… eyes open that lead to ears listening and to feet moving and to hands doing… yeah, that kind of love is Jesus kind of love. And when things go badly wrong, it’s a love that makes forgiveness possible. That kind of love, is love in action.

Article supplied with thanks to Brian Harris.

About the Author: Brian is a speaker, teacher, leader, writer, author and respected theologian who is founding director of the AVENIR Leadership Institute, fostering leaders who will make a positive impact on the world.

Feature image: Canva

Have you heard the quip that people in customer services understand why Noah only let animals on the ark?

If you’ve had to deal with the ire of someone sent pears instead of apples, or whose order of milk chocolate ginger biscuits was substituted with the dark chocolate version, you will smile knowingly. Sometimes the smallest things can show us to be petty, mean spirited and filled with a rage that simmers just below the surface. The picture isn’t pretty.

But it is not as simple as that, is it?

The Range Within Us

Change the circumstances and the same people can be generous, sacrificial, encouraging and extraordinarily patient. Aren’t you surprised by the range that lies inside most people? If I am honest, I am the most disappointed by the range that lies inside of me. I am not a scream and rant and rage person, yet I am perplexed by the variety that is within me. In many situations I can be exceptionally sympathetic and genuinely understanding. But then there is that vague line that gets crossed, and I find my attitude hardens, the cynic starts to take over, and I become dismissive of the complex and difficult struggles that some are going through. How can the kind and understanding person and the judgmental person live side by side? I don’t know, but I know that they do, and it bothers me.

Dust and Breath: The Paradox of Creation

For those steeped in Christian theology, none of this is new. You are probably familiar with the imagery of our creation. In Gen 2:7 we are told that God takes the dust of the ground and breathes it into life. If you want to know what it means to be human it is simple – you and I are the dust of the earth, worth extremely little, of no real value. At your funeral service it is likely that the words “dust to dust, ashes to ashes” will be spoken – for from dust we came and to dust we return.

Except that is not the full story. We are alive because we have been birthed into being by the breath of God. If dust speaks of our lowliness, the breath of God speaks of our loftiness. Or as Gen 1:27 reminds us, we are made in God’s own image. Are we extraordinary – truly exceptional, and in some way the crown of creation? We sure are. It is a remarkable thing to be human – to be made from God’s breath and in God’s image.

The Fall and Its Shadow

This tension is picked up throughout Scripture. After the celebration of our creation (Gen 1-2) we are confronted with the depth of our fall. Genesis 3 informs us of our refusal to obey God’s instructions and of our distrust of God’s goodness. It leads to our expulsion from paradise. Gen 4 plunges us into deeper despair as we face the world’s first murder, when Cain kills Abel. The world’s first parents have raised a murderer. The friendship of the world’s first brothers is shattered as the one kills the other. It is a grim portrait. The history of our world recounts our endless warfare with one another. It is a sobering confirmation that this opening portrait is all too valid.

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

Not that the Bible leaves it there. It reminds us that another reality is also at play. Ps 8:5 informs us that God has made people “a little lower than the angels” – a genuinely impressive status! Ps 139:14 insists that we are “fearfully and wonderfully made”. Of course we are! We have been made from God’s own breath.

It’s the dance between the two that leaves us perplexed. In each human being you see the fingerprints of both the divine and the demonic. We are confusing creatures.

Rediscovering Our True Nature

At times we try to deny one aspect of our being. We close our eyes to all that is obviously fallen and insist that we are incredible, amazing and good. When that comes crashing down we swing into gloomy mode and become disparaging of our worth. We might even note that elephants and rats sometimes display greater empathy than humans.

While these observations are interesting, where do they leave us?

They remind us why the Bible quietly insists that we are sinful and fall short of the purposes for which God made us (Rom 3:23). While many respond indignantly to the charge of being sinful, that’s largely because they assume they are being accused of being the worst possible version of themself (“as if I’m Atilla the Hun!”). However, the word sin in the Bible most commonly means to fall short of the mark (I am less than I have been made to be – something that every self improvement course reminds us of.) The chaos and destruction caused by that shortfall is met at the Cross of Jesus. His Cross is the place of our forgiveness – our invitation to begin anew, and to do so in relationship with the God in whose image we have been made, and whom we are supposed to represent in the world.

It’s always important to remember our origin story. The biblical narrative points to the God who made us – fearfully and wondrously made us. When tempted to be less than we are made to be (no, you weren’t made to be in a foul mood because someone nipped ahead of you at the supermarket, or nicked the parking bay you felt entitled to), why not probe the possibility end of your creation? If you and I have been made to represent God’s love and goodness in the world, what might that look like today? It’s a genuinely good question. If more of us took it seriously, perhaps we could build an ark in which even humans are welcome…

Article supplied with thanks to Brian Harris.

About the Author: Brian is a speaker, teacher, leader, writer, author and respected theologian who is founding director of the AVENIR Leadership Institute, fostering leaders who will make a positive impact on the world.

Feature image: Canva

Colliding truths are always fascinating, and here is a striking example: we are not supposed to judge others, yet exercising good judgment is essential for living wisely. Should we act as moral watchdogs, scrutinising the behaviour and lifestyles of others?

Or should we adopt a live and let live posture, generously accepting differences with lines like “It takes all sorts” or “If it works for you, that’s fine”?

Those who favour disinterest often quote Jesus’ words in Matthew 7:1–2: “Do not judge, or you too will be judged… with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” Taken literally, this might seem to require us to imitate the three wise monkeys—see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil—even when a neighbour enters an adulterous affair, drives drunk, or abuses their family. But is silence really acceptable? When does silence become irresponsible? When does it enable harm? Surely some things must be judged.

Judging vs. Right Judgment

Although Jesus forbids judging in Matthew 7, he also instructs in John 7:24: “Stop judging by mere appearances, and make a right judgment.” This invites a distinction between judging and right judgment.

To judge others is to assume a position we cannot legitimately claim. Judging presumes we have full access to motives, histories, wounds, and intentions—knowledge only God possesses. Humans operate with assumptions, many of them wrong. Most of us have had the experience of criticising or dismissing someone, only to later discover something that reframes their story entirely.

There is an old saying: “To know all is to forgive all.” While not always true, it often is—and even when it isn’t, Jesus’ words remind us that all of us need forgiveness. When we are outraged by another person, are we forgetting the shadow within ourselves?

The Nature of Right Judgment

Right judgment does not evaluate someone’s intrinsic moral worth. Instead, it assesses the probable outcomes of certain actions. Recognising that someone is on an unhealthy path is wisdom, not condemnation. And wisdom includes discerning whether it is appropriate to share that insight.

Many of us have been helped by someone saying, “I’m a little worried about you. If you keep doing this, you may burn out, become jaded, or hurt others.” Such comments are judgments in one sense, but not condemnations—they are expressions of care.

Jesus also insists that right judgment refuses to be deceived by mere appearances. In John 7, his critics accused him of violating Sabbath law. Superficially, the accusation made sense, but a deeper look revealed that he was actually honouring the law’s true intent.

Curiosity, Compassion, and Asking the Deeper Questions

Right judgment begins with the question, “What really matters here?” Behind every biblical instruction lies a purpose—a “why”—and we are invited to explore it humbly. We may misunderstand at times, but curiosity itself is part of wisdom.

Right judgment often leads to compassion. Instead of reacting with, “What a disgusting person,” we may perceive hidden pain—unmet potential, learned patterns, or a life without healthy models. Sometimes right judgment places a responsibility upon us: to help someone toward the life God intends, offering a picture of possibility rather than condemnation.

The Spirit’s Role in Conviction

In John 16:8, Jesus describes the Spirit’s role: to convict the world of sin. This is profoundly freeing—we are not the Spirit. Yet Christians sometimes act as though it is their duty to convict others, explaining, “The stakes are high; they need to repent.” But Jesus points to another way.

In John 13:34–35, he commands his followers to love in such a distinctive way that the world recognises them as his disciples. When people see genuine Christ-like love, the Spirit does what only the Spirit can do—awakening hunger for God, convicting hearts, and inspiring transformation. Many of us have discovered that God often convicts us first—especially of pride, harshness, or a lack of perceptive love.

Living with Right Judgment

As you enter a new week, hear Jesus’ invitation: judge not… but use right judgment. Right judgment refuses to be fooled by appearances, asks curious questions, is shaped by love, and remembers its own shadow. It gratefully acknowledges that God is God—and watches as the Spirit works in the world.

Article supplied with thanks to Brian Harris.

About the Author: Brian is a speaker, teacher, leader, writer, author and respected theologian who is founding director of the AVENIR Leadership Institute, fostering leaders who will make a positive impact on the world.

Feature image: Canva

It’s one of Jesus’ most popular claims, “I am come that you may have life, and life in all its fullness” (John 10:10). The implication is clear. Follow me, and you will find the life that is most truly life.

Now given that Jesus was the speaker, we shouldn’t be too quick to assume we know what this means. After all, the same Jesus said that if we want to find our lives we must be willing to lose them (Matt 10:39) and that the first will be last (Matt 20:16), and that the way is narrow, and only a few find it (Matt 7:14). These are puzzling ideas – deeply challenging ones. Loss, and last and narrow are not likely to be our first choice of words to accompany “life in all its fullness”.

A Framework for Flourishing

With this important qualifier, let me have a go at adding 7 “L” words to help fill out what I think “life in all its fullness” might look like. But however perplexing, don’t forget to add loss, and last and narrow to them, because I suspect that it is in the interaction of them all that a helpful portrait of the flourishing life emerges.

Seven “L” Words for Living Fully

So what are my 7 “L” words? They are live, love, listen, learn, laugh, lead and leave. A quick comment on each…

Live

Live, because not to is to turn your nose up at the gift God has given you. And life is an astonishing gift. Dive right into it… (text continues)

Love

Love, because it is at the heart of all Jesus taught and did… (text continues)

Listen

Listen, because you weren’t the first here and there is much to learn… (text continues)

Learn

Learn, because it is such a waste to keep on repeating the same mistakes… (text continues)

Laugh

Laugh, because my goodness, life is funny… (text continues)

Lead

Lead, because you have something to offer… (text continues)

Leave

Leave, a strange word to end on, but perhaps that’s because I’m writing as a 68 year old… 

The Paradox of Fullness

And so to the promise of Jesus, who reminds us that he came that we might have life and life in all its fullness – life where we live, love, listen, learn, laugh, lead and leave, always remembering that we find our life when we lose it, the first will be last, and narrow is the way.

A Call to Live Deeply

This is the invitation and the challenge: to embrace the fullness of life in all its paradoxes, to live with courage, humility, and joy — and to trust that in the losing, we find the truest life of all.

Article supplied with thanks to Brian Harris.

About the Author: Brian is a speaker, teacher, leader, writer, author and respected theologian who is founding director of the AVENIR Leadership Institute, fostering leaders who will make a positive impact on the world.

Feature image: Canva

I think it’s Brené Brown who said that “no” is just an invitation to a different conversation. That’s a helpful reminder to dive into opportunity thinking, rather than to assume all is lost when faced with a rejection. But how might this look in practice?

Be Careful What You Pray For

There is an intriguing Latin phrase, numinibus vota exaudita malignis, which roughly translated means “enormous prayers which heaven in vengeance answered”. Attributed to the Roman poet Juvenal, the idea appears in CS Lewis’ writing on prayer, where he notes that some prayers which on the surface seem benign, or even noble, might, if answered in the affirmative, actually do great harm. It might sound nice to get everything we ask for, but it can leave us undisciplined, unrealistic and entitled. Put differently, “all sunshine makes a desert” – and often struggle is a more loyal friend than comfort.

When the “No” Hits Hard

It’s easy to trot this sentiment out, but what about those times when the no isn’t to a request for a second serve of ice cream, but a desperate plea for healing, or restoring a relationship, or finding much needed work? Some things matter, and the “no” response can be a devastating blow.

Framing Rejection with Purpose

The long term impact of each “no” in our life is greatly influenced by how we frame them. See each as a failure, and that is what they become. By contrast, if you view the “no” as moving you one step closer to an appropriate “yes”, you will feel more positive. “No” can help to clarify things. It is usually better than a “perhaps” which, while often meant to soften the blow, can leave you hanging on far too long.

“No” gets us to ponder alternatives. “Well, if it’s not that, then what?” “No” releases us to try new options. It invites us to creativity, and to consider fresh possibilities. I’ve often heard people say, “well, it’s not what I initially planned, but I’m now rather glad that it’s turned out this way.”

“No” also gets us to think about our present situation more carefully. What if it is “no” because we are meant to be where we are? As the saying goes, “the grass isn’t greener on the other side, but where it is watered most.” The children of Israel did not get all the pleasure they could have derived from the manna from heaven simply because their heart was set on meat (Ex 16, Num 11). Some people have been infected with perpetual restlessness, and are never able to reap the harvest of a long innings in one place. Familiarity breeds contempt, and many people have learnt the value of what they had, only after they have lost it.

Knowing the Final Result Changes Everything

I know you are not supposed to, but when watching a televised rugby match once the game is already finished, I always google the result first. Be it the desired result or not, it leaves me so much calmer as I watch. I especially enjoy it if my team wins. When you know the final result, it transforms the way you look at set backs. If the referee makes a bad decision, you remain calm – after all, what does it matter, your team still wins. If the other side gets an easy try – what does it matter? After all, it’s just a consolation prize for them, because you know, your team wins!

So imagine this… What if you could watch an interview of you taken towards the end of your life. In it you hear yourself discuss your life, and it’s many ups and downs. But then you hear yourself say it. “You know what my deepest feeling is? It’s gratitude. I’ve had so many experiences in life, and here I am at 93, just deeply grateful for the fulfilling life I’ve been privileged to have. It hasn’t always been easy, but it has assuredly been good.” If you knew that is what you were going to say towards the end, wouldn’t it change the way you faced the current “no” in your life? Despite the “no”, why not make gratitude at the end a goal. In fact, why not start practicing gratitude now?

Holding On to a Greater Yes

And of course there is more. If you are a follower of Jesus, as many of the readers of this blog are, you have some firm promises to hold onto. Even if during this life you face a perpetual “no”, there is the promise of an eternal “yes”. Paul describes it beautifully in 2 Cor 4:16–18:

“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

Because of that firm hope, I chose to be grateful each day – be it a yes or a no day. As poet Robert Browning put it, “Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be.”

Article supplied with thanks to Brian Harris.

About the Author: Brian is a speaker, teacher, leader, writer, author and respected theologian who is founding director of the AVENIR Leadership Institute, fostering leaders who will make a positive impact on the world.

Feature image: Canva