If trials are how God transforms us, then telling each other ‘You Got This’ isn’t enough to get through the year ahead.

Life Goals

As we stumble through these early weeks of the new year, I wonder if you’ve had a chance to consider what would count as a successful 2021 for you?

As Christians, we’d probably recognise there’s a number of ‘unhealthy’ answers to that question: getting rich; winning the plaudits of my peers; sculpting my body to resemble the images that bombard me online.

Whilst we might find ourselves tempted by the allure of those answers now and again, we’re likely to agree that they’re not what a Christian should be setting their heart on.

But what if we put the question in more Christian terms: ‘What would it look like to end the year more spiritually mature?’

How would we answer that?

And this is where I’ve been pondering whether even our ‘Christian’ answers may still reveal somethings gone amiss. 

Welcome to the Real World

I’m quickly learning to love the book of James in these disorientating times. It’s a part of the Bible often praised for being delightfully practical, offering an everyday faith.

But more than that, it’s also a portion of Scripture that is absolutely realistic about life. Take how James begins:

‘Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.’ (James 1:2-3)

Right from his opening gambit, James doesn’t hold back that life is full of hard things. Many kinds of hard things in fact. There’s no Instagram filter or rose tinted glasses here.

But to speak of joy alongside trials might seem a bit of stretch to our ears. How does one even consider the idea of rejoicing in the midst of pain?

The Posture of Perseverance

And even when we consider James’ rationale, noting that joy lies in trials producing perseverance (1:3), we might still raise an eyebrow. 

After all, in the midst of hard things, perseverance can seem like a pipe dream. Surely times of suffering are when we feel least like keeping going? Maybe you feel that right now? You’re hanging on with your fingernails here!

But maybe that phrase reveals the crux of the matter: after all, who are we hanging onto in such times? 

What if spiritual perseverance is less about the internal ability to resolutely persist come what may, but rather about having such an awareness of our weakness that we have ‘come to the end of ourselves’ and have thrown ourselves on something external to ourselves: God. 

To put it another way, as we feel weak and cling to the Lord, this is actually what it means to be steadfast. This is the posture of perseverance.

We learn to lean.

The Surprising Shape of True Maturity

Often we act like growing as a Christian means having it all together. But James connects this perseverance to the greater work of how God is shaping us:

‘Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.’ (1:4)

In other words, true Christian maturity is not about having it all together, but rather realising that we don’t – but knowing where to turn in the midst of that.

Of course in many areas of life maturity looks like becoming more independent – think of the small child walking without a hand to hold, or the employee no longer needing to be spoon-fed their tasks. But I think James would say that actually Christian maturity means becoming more dependent.

Yes, we want disciples of Jesus to have their own renewed minds, reflecting on their own circumstances and desires and days through the lens of the gospel. But let’s not kid ourselves into thinking that the cry of our self-determined age – ‘You got this!’ – is a vaguely Christian exhortation. 

Leaning into the Future with God

So as we scan the horizon for what 2021 may hold – for ourselves, for our churches, for the Church in this disorientating season – know that there’s few greater things that God could do for us than teach us to lean on him through hard times. 

Christian growth does not work like a board game, where if we land on the right space we can skip ahead to the finish. As we say in the UK, we can’t avoid the ‘hard yards’. 

In other words, James is adamant that we can’t get to Christian maturity without perseverance. And we won’t discover perseverance without trial. Learning to lean is the Christian life.

The Best Place To Be

But if we under any doubts about whether it’s worth it, just a few sentences later James crystallises where such leaning will lead us to: ‘Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.’ (1:12)

Wherever this year takes us, leaning on the Lord is the best place to be, because ultimately it’ll get us to the best place we can ever be: receiving the crown of life from the God we love.

Yes, there will be things we’ll face this year that we’d never have chosen to face.

But despite how hard those times may be, we can be confident that God is forming us through them as we learn to lean upon him.

He got this. And we can consider that pure joy.

A Lesson from Babyville

In the midst of the craziness of life with a newborn, one of the phrases Zoe & I often come back to is ‘every day is a stage’.

Welcome to my thought process…

Oh, hurrah, the little one was only up for a feed once last night… oh, and then the following night he’s awake three times for nearly an hour each time… just when we think he’s getting into a rhythm, suddenly everything changes!

Every day is a stage.

It’s a helpful nudge for our expectations as parents not to be unrealistic, and not to get discouraged when one day is so different to the next.

The COVID Landscape

And as we enter a second lockdown here in the UK, this phrase has kept coming to mind. This is the COVID landscape and it often feels that ‘every day is a stage’.

Many have noted that one of the best ways of capturing this landscape is the acronym VUCA: Volatile, Uncertainty; Complexity; Ambiguity.

The term became popular through the US military in the early 1990s, in response to the collapse of the USSR and the fact there was now a much more complex ‘threat’.

In every sphere of life at the moment, we face volatility, uncertainty, complexity and ambiguity – and life for churches and church leaders is no exception.

Welcome to the Hebel World

Of course, we all know this is what life can be like. But life feels particularly ‘like’ it at the moment!

In the Old Testament book of Ecclesiastes, the writer repeatedly uses the Hebrew word ‘hebel’ – often translated as meaningless, but I think better translated as vapour or vanity. Rather than suggesting life has no meaning, it captures that sense of life being ungraspable and fleeting. Part of why we want to grasp life is because it is meaningful, and yet it is vapour. Plans, dreams, schedules.

Life is vapour. A Saturday night announcement from Downing Street and suddenly our plans for the following weekend have to shift. Who knows what Christmas will look like? Who knows what 2021 will be like?

But what are we hoping will bring relief? More certainty? A Government plan? I saw this tweet from pastor Andy Prime this week, which picks up on another repeated phrase from Ecclesiastes and reminds us where to look:

2020 is not our enemy, or the problem.
2021 is not our saviour, or the solution.

This is 'life under the sun.'

The answer is not a new year.
The answer is new life.
And even our calendars point us beyond themselves to the Christ.#AD#InTheYearOfOurLord

— ᴀɴᴅʏ ᴘʀɪᴍᴇ (@revandyprime) November 4, 2020

Another VUCA

Rather than just hoping things ‘go back to normal’, some have argued that the best response to living in a VUCA world is actually an alternative ‘VUCA’ – and I’ve found this a helpful starting point in my own thoughts:

Respond to Volatility with Vision: painting a picture of the future that isn’t dependent on certainties…

Respond to Uncertainty with Understanding: reflect on the context and empathise and embrace reactions, after all we’re all feeling the fragility…

Respond to Complexity with Clarity (simplicity): discerning/communicating what we are about and what counts…

Respond to Ambiguity with Agility: facilitate innovation and build a culture of resilience…

If Every Day Is A Stage, Plan For Tomorrow

Of course, in all of this we still need to make plans – and yet to make them prayerfully and hold them lightly. James Lawrence, Leadership Principal for CPAS, has a helpful nugget of wisdom here for moving forwards:

“Think long-term … prepare medium-term … plan short-term”

I find that a helpful way of framing time, but also of framing my expectation levels and where I spend my energy.

After all, every day is a stage.

How are you finding the fragility? What has helped you take steps forward? How could the craziness of a newborn baby frame your perspective at the moment?

Communicating the good news of Jesus in the West in 2020 is challenging. Christianity is often portrayed as irrelevant, out-of-touch, even unjust and toxic. And like it or not, that’s got to shape how we communicate the Christian faith.

In light of this, I’ve been exploring some different imagery for ‘connecting and confronting’ with the good news of Jesus in our cultural moment. In part, it flows from the ‘rubber hitting the road’ in everyday conversations. In part, it flows from working on a Mission & Apologetics module I teach locally.

You could think of these as like five different tools on a Swiss army knife – five approaches for beginning to help people consider the relevance and goodness of the gospel and the Christian worldview. They’re certainly not everything, but they’re perhaps useful ‘ways in’ as we consider our gospel communication in 2020 and beyond…

1. Putting a Stone in the Shoe

At the time, there’s nothing worse than a stone in the shoe! Yes, you can try to keep on walking, probably because you can’t be bothered to stop, but it’s not going to be comfortable if you do. Ultimately, you have to do something about it.

As evangelists we want to provoke in such a way that people can’t carry on the same as a result. I’m pretty sure I got this phrase from Dan Strange – and I’ve found it very helpful to consider – particularly in settings where we’re more limited in what the context might deem to be appropriate. For example, if you’re writing a newspaper column or giving a segment on the local radio, where anything too overt is going beyond your invitation. So it’s helpful to think: what one thought can I leave people with that will surprise – and cause an eyebrow to be raised?

I say this because often when we’re sharing the gospel we can feel a great pressure to say ‘everything’. And yet how often in the book of Acts do we hear of people demanding to hear more from the apostles? Let’s speak words of truth and grace that awaken a hunger in people, as when you begin to smell the satisfying wafts of a hearty feast and can’t wait to tuck in! Or to put it another way, put a stone in someone’s shoe!

2. Opening the Curtains 

There’s so many unhelpful stereotypes out there about Christianity, which means we need to help people to see what the Christian life is actually like. What difference does it make to believe in Jesus? When the pressure is on. When life is hard. In a sense, this is answering the question, ‘why would I bother becoming a Christian?’

As such, I find it useful to think of part of the evangelist’s job as ‘opening the curtains’ onto the Christian life. We need to show it’s about more than going to church and believing certain propositions. It’s not quiche, cold tea and mumbling to a few dirges. This is a whole new life, a whole new way of thinking, feeling, living. It’s faith, hope and love. It’s ‘Christ in me, the hope of glory’. Open the curtains, let the sunshine in and show people the new reality.

But in doing this, make sure it’s connected into real life. Not a pious unrelatable vision of life, but rather completely earthed in the nitty-gritty. A case-study, personal quote or testimony may help to do this.

3. Draining the Bath

Sometimes when I’m giving my kids a bath, there’s that horror moment when I’ve drained the water and you see all the muck that’s left at the bottom.

Tom Holland’s latest book, Dominion, has powerfully shown the way in which the culture of the West is indebted to the Christian gospel. We wouldn’t be where we are – whether it’s art, law, human rights, etc – if it wasn’t for Christianity. So let’s not be ashamed of that.

Draining the bath means showing people how empty life without God is. When we strip everything back, what are our values built on? For example, one of the big themes throughout lockdown has been that of hope. But where can hope be found? And what about dignity or peace? Or satisfaction and forgiveness? Often our experiences show us that the places we look for these things leave us disappointed. And yet it’s amazing how short-term our memories are. The evangelist can join the dots – and therefore drain the bath of a life without God.

4. Tracing the Sunbeam

Augustine is famous for saying that part of the nature of sin is to worship God’s gifts rather than the divine Giver. We take the good things that God has made and we treat them as ‘god things’, idols, ignoring the One who made them.

The language of idolatry is a powerful diagnostic tool to help people see the ways in which we’re all worshippers. But it’s also helpful to then trace the ‘goodness’ of those good things back to the Giver himself. Every sunbeam that bursts into our lives and brings truth, beauty and goodness, comes from a God who is True, Beautiful and Good.

And so, rather than simply expose the ugly folly of idolatry, we can also acknowledge that our desire to value these things comes in part from a recognition that they have goodness in them. But rather than treat those good things as ends in themselves, as if they would truly satisfy, we’re to help people trace the sunbeam back to the Sun, to their Triune Creator, the One who alone is worthy of all worship.

5. Capturing the Longing

Whether it’s the longing for justice or for relationship or for something beyond death, I believe part of being made in the image of God means we all have in-built longings. This is innate to being human. These desires reflect the divine purposes for which we were made.

We’re not just molecules, bones and blood, on some evolutionary journey – and I think people deep-down both recognise this – and want to hear this. Longings aren’t simply a way of ensuring the survival of the fittest. Does that really fit with what we feel so deeply? For example, why do we care so much about injustice, when it rarely benefits ourselves?

And so as an evangelist, surely part of our calling is to articulate those longings, so that people can identify that within themselves – and show how the Christian gospel makes sense of them and fulfils them. It’s almost like we’re holding a mirror up, and saying, ‘You know those feelings you have – that deep desire for something more… well, here’s why’.

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I’ve found these helpful to keep in the back of my mind in various contexts and situations. Do you have similar ‘tools’ you pull out when seeking to ‘take every thought captive’ for Christ?