Photo by...Photo by Nathan Anderson on Unsplash
A student survey conducted at one of our local schools determined that young people see the church as being full of old people and pews. And they think that the pews have to go. There’s some good news in that survey, they didn’t say the old people should go, only the pews.
Think for a moment: How does their perception match reality?
We might immediately begin to defend the pews. They've been good enough for generations. They keep us awake. They haven’t killed anyone.
Or we might be offended that they’ve labelled us as old. We might argue that we’re not nearly as old as our grandparents were at the same age.
We might want to join James and John to ask Jesus whether we should call down fire from heaven and destroy them.
But before we get too defensive, these young people are crying out for the church to recognise and value them. They don’t think the church cares about them, they don’t think we care. They think the church is only interested in the people who’re already involved, which to them means old people.
I wonder whether they’re any different to those of any age who aren’t connected to our churches. Would the whole ‘unchurched’ and 'previously-churched’ community agree that we don’t care. Would they contend that we’re only interested in ourselves.
If we’re so busy polishing and defending our pews then they have to go. If there’s anything in our church that uses up our time at the expense of living our lives for Jesus then it has to go.
Even more urgently we have to go. Not leave the church, the community of God’s people, but go with the good news that because God loves and cares for every single person in this world so do we.
“As you go”, Jesus says, “make disciples of all nations.” Jesus cares about this because he has ‘skin-in-the-game’. He died for each and every one we encounter as we go about our lives.
How do we, as individuals and a church, need to change so that no one in our community will feel that we don’t care about them?
God’s covenant, your response
by Mark Whitfield
Click here to download your printable verse to carry with you today.
All that the Lord has spoken we will do, and we will be obedient (Exodus 24:7b).
Read Exodus 24:3–11
Perhaps you know the feeling. You hear God’s word, and something within you says, ‘Yes, this is how I want to live.’ You resolve to pray more faithfully, be more patient, forgive more readily, serve more generously or trust God more completely.
Your intentions are sincere, but then life happens. You lose your patience. You fail to forgive. You become distracted. You worry instead of trusting. Once again, you discover that good intentions do not always become faithful actions.
That’s why something important in today’s verse deserves your attention. Before Israel makes its promise, God has already spoken. God has established his covenant. God has taken the initiative. God has made these people his own and given them his word.
‘Ko te iwi a te Atua tātou’ (in English, ‘We are the people of God’).
And that is where your confidence begins. You are not God’s child because you have managed to get everything right. You are not held within God’s covenant because you have made strong enough promises. You belong to God because God is gracious and faithful.
Moses speaks of ‘the blood of the covenant’ God has made with his people. The covenant rests ultimately not on the strength of Israel’s promise, but on God’s faithfulness.
That’s the good news for you today. In baptism, God claimed you as his own, not because you promised to be perfect, but because God is gracious. Your obedience does not earn his love. Your obedience is your response to the love he has already given you.
So, hear God’s word today. Seek to live faithfully. But when you fail – and you will – don’t despair. Return to the God who forgives, restores and holds you securely in his covenant grace.
Faithful God, thank you for making me your own. Help me respond to your love with faithful obedience. When I fail, remind me that my confidence rests not in my promises, but in your unfailing faithfulness. Through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.
Pastor Mark is a Kiwi and loves being pastor of St Paul’s Lutheran Church in Ōtautahi (Christchurch) on New Zealand’s South Island. He is bishop emeritus of the Lutheran Church of New Zealand (LCNZ), has served on the LCA Commission on Worship and represents the LCNZ on the Roman Catholic–Lutheran Dialogue Commission. He is married to Leanne and is dad to Chelsea (and Tim), Brittany and Charlotte. A musician (organist, pianist, singer and composer), Mark also enjoys gardening, making people laugh and following sport, especially cricket and rugby. And when the opportunity arises, he loves eating rollmops on fresh bread with his father-in-law, Kevin.
Kua rite katoa; haere mai (Everything is ready; come)
by Mark Whitfield
Click here to download your printable verse to carry with you today.
Look, I have prepared my dinner … and everything is ready; come to the wedding banquet (Matthew 22:4b).
Read Matthew 22:1–14
Our family is preparing for our daughter’s wedding early next year. There is something wonderful about getting ready for such a celebration – the invitations, the planning, the food, the service order and all the little details that need to be prepared. Then comes the moment when all the preparations are complete, and the guests are invited: ‘Come!’
That is the invitation Jesus places before you today.
It’s easy to imagine that before God can welcome you, you need to get your life in order. Perhaps you think you need to become a better Christian, overcome your failures, pray more, believe more strongly or somehow make yourself worthy of God.
But listen again to Jesus: ‘Everything is ready; come.’
The invitation begins not with what you have done, but with what God has done for you.
God has prepared the feast. In Jesus, he has dealt with your sin, carried your guilt and opened the way for you to live in his grace. You don’t have to make yourself worthy before you come. You don’t have to arrive with your life neatly sorted out.
You simply come.
In Māori, we hear the invitation: ‘Kua rite katoa; haere mai’, which means in English, ‘Everything is ready; come.’
Perhaps you need to hear those words personally today. Whatever you are carrying – your regrets, disappointments, doubts, weariness or sense that you have not done enough – Jesus invites you.
The invitation is not a demand to become someone different before God will love you. It’s an invitation to receive the love and grace God has already prepared for you in Christ.
So, come. Come as you are. Receive his forgiveness. Rest in his grace and rejoice in his love.
And having received this gracious invitation yourself, become someone who gladly says to others: ‘Everything is ready; come.’
Lord Jesus, thank you that everything is ready, not because I have earned it, but because you have prepared it for me. Help me to receive your grace, trust your promise, and rejoice in your invitation today. Amen.
Pastor Mark is a Kiwi and loves being pastor of St Paul’s Lutheran Church in Ōtautahi (Christchurch) on New Zealand’s South Island. He is bishop emeritus of the Lutheran Church of New Zealand (LCNZ), has served on the LCA Commission on Worship and represents the LCNZ on the Roman Catholic–Lutheran Dialogue Commission. He is married to Leanne and is dad to Chelsea (and Tim), Brittany and Charlotte. A musician (organist, pianist, singer and composer), Mark also enjoys gardening, making people laugh and following sport, especially cricket and rugby. And when the opportunity arises, he loves eating rollmops on fresh bread with his father-in-law, Kevin.
Pursued by goodness and mercy
by Kathy Matuschka
Click here to download your printable verse to carry with you today.
Sure goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long (Psalm 23:6).
Read Psalm 23
Sometimes (not always), my hospital chaplaincy conversations turn to matters of Christian faith, and the person I am visiting indicates they would like me to pray with them. It’s not unusual for the conversation to continue like this:
‘Shall I read from the Bible before we pray? Do you have a favourite text?’
‘Er ….’
‘How about Psalm 23 – The Lord is my Shepherd?’
‘(Big smile) Oh yes!’
I used to think that the frequent choice of Psalm 23 for funerals, as well as TV and movie depictions of church services, was a cliché. I imagined that people chose it because it was the only Scripture they knew.
But since I’ve been a hospital chaplain, I’ve become convinced that this choice comes from somewhere important and real. Maybe it comes from a connection with the faith of a loved parent or grandparent, or perhaps it expresses a faith that transcends organised religion for the person I’m sitting beside, or maybe they are a regular churchgoer. It doesn’t matter: Psalm 23 offers a map of real life and a statement of trust in God’s loving presence.
Psalm 23 levels the playing field: whether your faith is simple and earthy, or you have a PhD in theology, it’s like the manger: we come with nothing to give and everything to receive. I love the imagery in verse six above of goodness and mercy pursuing us. We like to think we can keep our eyes on the Shepherd ahead of us and simply follow, but in fact, we need training to stay on track. Like a sheepdog nipping at our heels, goodness and mercy chase us down again and again, drawing us to rest in God’s presence.
Dear loving Shepherd, you know what is on my heart and mind today. Please hem me in with your goodness and mercy, so that I can rest in your presence as I continue on my way. Amen.
Kathy is learning to give up her struggle to make sense of God and God’s world, and instead rest in the mystery of love that holds her each day.