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As we approach Good Friday and Easter Sunday, some brief thoughts on this most powerful of stories. Let’s begin in the garden. GARDEN Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to his disciples, “Sit here, while I go over there and pray.” And taking with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, he began to be sorrowful and troubled. Then he said to them, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death; remain here, and watch with me.” And going a little farther he fell on his face and prayed, saying, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.” Matt 26.36-39 Last year, I had the privilege of visiting Israel. We spent a day in Jerusalem, a location that my father-in-law (a retired missionary) had wanted to visit all his life. We visited the garden, and it was a disappointment. To quote from a previous post . . . The trees are very old—around eight hundred years—but there are hardly more than ten left. The reason? They’ve built churches and religious buildings all over the place. The Basilica of the Agony is a huge structure right next to the garden. And then there’s the Tomb of the Virgin on the other side. Much has changed in the past two thousand years. I had imagined a large, tree-filled space in which we could wander. Instead, in the church, you can kneel next to the rock where Jesus is believed to have wept his tears of agony. I’m sure you can donate to the church also. Postcard from Israel But let’s return to the passage. Jesus tells his disciples that his soul is “very sorrowful, even to death.” This is an insight into an emotional man. Never let it be said that Jesus was some buttoned up stiff-upper-lip ascetic who held it all in. Keep calm and carry on! Not Jesus. He got angry, cried, became frustrated and showed us in many ways that emotions are innately human. He joined us in our humanity, and there are few things more human than weeping. I love him for this. I just love that he has felt as I feel. He understands perfectly what I feel, not because he is me, but because he made me human, in the divine image, and has felt the whole gamut of human emotions in a human body. The tightening of the stomach, the stinging tears, the ache inside, all those physical responses that we feel, he has been there. So I do not weep alone. He weeps with me. TRIAL Before the trial, the arrest. In that hour Jesus said to the crowd, ‘Am I leading a rebellion, that you have come out with swords and clubs to capture me? Every day I sat in the temple courts teaching, and you did not arrest me. But this has all taken place that the writings of the prophets might be fulfilled.’ Then all the disciples deserted him and fled. Matt 26.55-56 This has all taken place that the writings of the prophets might be fulfilled. Over and over, Jesus reminds his followers that his path is decided. Things must happen a certain way. It has been prophesied. So Jesus lived his life in a particular way, one already mapped out for him. Right now, I’m listening to the Harry Potter novels through Audible, read by the inimitable Stephen Fry. In the final book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, we find these memorable lines. “So the boy…the boy must die?” asked Snape quite calmly. “And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus. That is essential.” Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. J.K. Rowling There are dozens of similarities between Harry Potter and the Christian gospels. Harry frequently exhibits Christ-like attributes and the story culminates, of course, in some dramatic final scenes during which he dies, returns, and triumphs over his adversary, Voldemort. Yet in the quote above, the similarity relates to his destiny. Harry doesn’t know it, but his destiny is being overseen by a father-figure in Albus Dumbledore, a god-like character, who declares that he must die. His death is planned, and the actions of both Snape and Dumbledore are required to ensure it happens. In the gospels, Christ’s self-knowledge far exceeds Harry Potter’s. He knows what’s coming, submitting to his father and the Scriptures that outline the path he is to take. He submits himself to his destiny. It is one of the most remarkable things about the Lord Jesus, that in every moment of the Passion narrative, he willingly chooses to lay down his life. He has completely surrendered to his destiny—to be the sacrificial lamb foretold many centuries before. Oh the beauty of such a life, and oh how often we struggle to follow in his footsteps. For instead of submitting to our submissive Christ, we continue to rail against him, complaining, and rebelling, and thinking we know best. We always need to be wary not to sit in judgement over the Scriptures, assessing whether our God has acted according to our modern sensibilities. So, some devotional questions to consider. Am I guilty of judging God? Do I submit to his ways? This year, what is God teaching me about himself through the Passion narratives? CROSS There they offered Jesus wine to drink, mixed with gall; but after tasting it, he refused to drink it. When they had crucified him, they divided up his clothes by casting lots. And sitting down, they kept watch over him there. Above his head they placed the written charge against him: this is jesus, the king of the jews. . . In the same way the chief priests, the teachers of the law and the elders mocked him. ‘He saved others,’ they said, ‘but he can’t save himself! He’s the king of Israel! Let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him. He trusts in God. Let God rescue him now if he wants him, for he said, “I am the Son of God.”’ In the same way the rebels who were crucified with him also heaped insults on him. Matt 27.34-37; 41-44 Did you notice that? When they had crucified him, they divided up his clothes by casting lots. Scholars differ in their opinions, but many believe that Christ was crucified naked. Completely naked. It was part of the humiliation, and must have been excruciating. These hours on the cross are situated right at the heart of the Christian faith. Sometimes I think the theological implications of these events overwhelm our appreciation for the depth of suffering taking place. The physical agony we know about. Movies have shown it in agonising detail. But lest we forget, what takes place in those three hours is a profound and mysterious agony for God and wrenching dislocation for Creation. And it is done willingly for our sakes. This is our God, who went through a kind of torment that we will never truly understand nor appreciate. How great the Father’s love, we sing. Indeed. What grace, what mercy, when Christ took upon himself our sin and its penalty. No greater agony can be imagined. Yet he did this for you. And for me. As you meditate on the Passion this year, may you see its truth and wonder with new eyes. Pray both for eyes to see and ears to hear. He loves you. Oh, he loves you with a love far beyond your imagining. Worship him today.

I identify as . . . fill in the blank. Just reading those words might make you cringe. Or blanch. Or cause your hackles to rise. I was chatting with my son the other day and he said something very interesting. He pointed out to me that the gender identity issue is akin to the way C.S. Lewis describes the Christian worldview. I have often mentioned this quote at home, so he knows it well. I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else. Dad, it’s the same now with gender. Young people see the whole world through the prism of their gender identity. It’s that important. He may not have used the word “prism”, but you get the idea. The catastrophe that occurred when our culture split gender from biological sex is something all leaders are facing. But I’m not writing on that today. Instead, I’d like to focus on these two questions: Why is identity so important? Why is belonging so important? Since time immemorial, we have given ourselves badges. We have slapped labels on ourselves to give ourselves meaning. It’s very natural. These badges, however, are always subsumed by something greater than ourselves. We don’t just need badges, we need to belong. We group ourselves together with others who wear the same badge. Just go to a game of football. BADGES When I grew up, I knew what my badges were. I was, A boy A Collins – son, brother, nephew etc A pupil from X school British with a Norwegian mother (hence my flashy middle name) In time, I was introduced to Jesus. I became one of his followers and suddenly, my badges needed to be prioritised in a completely different way. I started with this one. I am one of God’s children, dearly loved. (John 1.12) As I grew in faith and learned more, my Christian identity expanded. I came to see that I had a large array of different badges. A member of the church A recipient of grace and mercy A forgiven sinner A human being fearfully and wonderfully made A human being destined for glory A brother to fellow believers A minister of reconciliation A Spirit-filled believer All of these identities are developments on a theme, but they are all incredibly important. Indeed, I’m not sure we can answer the question, “What am I for?” until we’ve answered the question, “Who am I?” It is fundamental to human flourishing. Without a clear answer, we will always struggle. Often when I meet those outside the church who are struggling with life, it’s clear that they simply don’t know who they are. Everything they’re chasing is an attempt to feel like they matter in some way, and to do that, you need to know who you are. So, I’m sure you know most of these, but here is a list of verses that describe a Christian identity. Gen 1.27 – Made in God’s image Ps 139.13-14 – Fearfully and wonderfully made Eph 2.10 – God’s workmanship Rom 12.6-8 – Gift-bearer I Cor 6.19 – Temple of the Holy Spirit 2 Cor 5.17 – New creation—in Christ 1 Cor 12.27 – Member of the body of Christ Rom 8.1 – Forgiven sinner Gal 3.26 – A son of God through faith John 15.16 – Chosen by God 1 John 3.1 – Child of God This list isn’t exhaustive. It isn’t even half-way to describing our multiple identities that all revolve around our primary identity: Forgiven children of God. It all starts at the cross. So far, so Sunday morning, right? Probably half the sermons you preach have something to do with identity, and rightly so. Can the assertion of our identity solve all our problems? No, but at the very minimum, it’s a good place to start when helping people face their struggles. I don’t advocate slapping a Bible verse on every problem, but I do think it’s helpful to remind a believer of all the resources we have in Christ. BELONGING Is identity enough? Well, no. Not unless it’s combined with our belonging. In our radically individualistic culture, it’s interesting that we cannot escape the desire to belong. We need others. We yearn for the affirmation that comes from being a member of a group. This is really where the Christian faith comes into its own. It is a radically communal faith. Indeed, first-century Jewish culture had very little room for the individual. They thought almost exclusively in collective terms. When I was in seminary, I remember my favourite professor telling me, “You read the story of Joseph and you see a brave young man triumphing against the odds. That’s because you’re modern and Western. The Jewish reader? All they see is their nation wrapped up in the destiny of this one man. If he falls, then we all fall. No individual. Just group.” For the Jews—family, village, tribe, nation. All groups. It's hard to over-emphasise the importance of belonging. No wonder John Donne’s words are so well-known: No man is an island. We are more like ants . . . than ants themselves! Without others, we die. We must belong. Somehow. And this brings us back to badges. We either belong to others with the same badge by birth, or we seek out others who choose the same badge as us. BY BIRTH I’m a Collins. I can’t change that. We don’t choose our families, and in truth, many of our most painful problems come from our family backgrounds. They are also a source of our greatest joys. Family life is both a huge blessing and for some, a curse. We also don’t choose when we’re born or where. I am British. I can’t choose to be born French. BY CHOICE As we grow, however, we soon become aware that we can choose to belong to groups we like. We can follow Liverpool F.C. or a writer’s group, or a charity we support. One of the most powerful drivers among those who prioritise their gender identity is the yearning to belong to a group. Non-binary isn’t just a statement of a gender identity, (however confused this might be) it’s a means of seeking others who identify similarly. It’s driven by the hope of finding others who share the same struggles; it’s driven by a profound desire to belong. And this is the real point of this post. The gender identity debate tells us that we, as human beings, are desperate for both identity and belonging. Our world seeks an answer to the question “Who am I?” and it finds its answer in “A group with whom I can identify.” My first answer above was “child of God”. It’s little wonder, because I’m modern and Western. But the badge I wear is just the beginning. It’s the belonging where the power lies. It’s the belonging that answers the question “what am I for?” Child of God, as wonderful as that is, doesn’t tell you what you’re for. It tells you who you are, but you need belonging to tell you what you’re for. In short, you need the church. You need the church not just to give you a sense of belonging, but also to create the environment in which you can flourish as a Christ-follower. Sure, some are called to be itinerant preachers—Wild West Christian cowboys—taking the gospel to the ends of the earth. But they are rare. And in truth, they aren’t on their own at all. They are supported by a network of others who give financially and pray for them. We’re all connected, hence the body metaphor in Scripture. BELONGING It’s a little ironic, isn’t it, that the gender debate should remind us of our need to belong? The church is being rattled by this fractious debate, and yet it contains a bright silver lining. It is shouting, “I want to belong.” Indeed, it is crying out, “I want to be loved. I want to belong.” The church has an answer to that cry. We live in a radically individualistic age, in which we worship personal autonomy. When a visitor arrives on your doorstep, do you wait until they make themselves known, “giving them space” to initiate? Or do you reach out to embrace a fellow believer and show them where they might start to belong in your community? Belonging is not just a warm fuzzy feeling. It’s not enough for church members to say, “well, I’m a child of God like everyone else.” Belonging needs more than that. We want to know that we have a role, a place, an identity within the community. This is why courses that help identify the gifts within each church member, so they can be developed for the glory of God within a community, can be helpful. When you look out over your congregation this Sunday, I wonder whether you see a community in which each person has a clear sense of belonging? Not just “I attend X church” belonging, but “My leader(s) know(s) the gifts I bring, and is seeking to develop them” belonging. Perhaps belonging is even delegated down so that a whole team of people is helping others find their place in the church. Belonging for Christians isn’t an added extra. It is intrinsic to how we see ourselves when we look in the mirror. We don’t just need an identity “in Christ”. We need that identity, that badge, to find expression within our community. That, for Christians, is belonging. For only when we develop our gifts and grow together in our shared knowledge of the grace of God do our badges and belonging fuse into one. For believers, our badges only have meaning when they’re celebrated, developed, grown, challenged, and encouraged within our belonging. When our particular kind of “in Christ” badge finds its place. That’s belonging. What a calling it is to be a leader in God’s church! Badges and belonging. For every one of your church members. The Lord bless you as you help your people to find joy in both their badge and their belonging.

In the church tradition in which I grew up, there was little talk about being a “member” of the local church. As believers, we were assumed to be “members” of Christ’s body—the global church—but it was felt that a more intimate expression of togetherness was needed for the local church. So we opted for “fellowship”. We spoke of “being in fellowship”. Similarly, we didn’t usually provide hospitality but rather we would invite guests to have “fellowship” in the home. A very specific usage of “fellowship” related to the financial gift given to a visiting speaker. This was usually limited to covering expenses, but sometimes a gift was given to express “fellowship”. This usually meant that the money was more than just to cover expenses. Nowadays, I have come to rely more on these expressions of fellowship! On a less encouraging note, the word “fellowship” was sometimes used to communicate our insular nature. A person who spoke at other denominations was considered to be going “outside the fellowship”. How we use and misuse language sometimes. You can see that the term in my very confused brain was conditioned by my specific denominational upbringing. It spoke of intimacy but also of exclusivity. You can imagine my surprise, therefore, when I started to study the New Testament for myself, and especially when I grew in my knowledge of the Greek used by its authors. In my weird system of visual thinking, I had come to associate—wrongly—"fellowship” with giving money. This misunderstanding was exacerbated by the Greek word for fellowship—koinonia. The first part of that word sounds very much like “coin”. In my West of Scotland accent I would say, “Have you got coin oan ya?” (Best understood when spoken out loud!) Yes, I confess this was a foolish way to interpret Greek of the first century. An aid for memory isn’t the best way to land on the right meaning of a word. In fact, some might even accuse me of thinking like a stereotypical tight Scotsman! KOINONIA I have been thinking a lot about the breadth of the word, and the teaching of the New Testament. Here’s the apostle John writing about koinonia. This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all. If we say we have fellowship (κοινωνία—koinōnia) with him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth. But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin. 1 John 1.5-7 A beautiful duality is presented in the text about our fellowship with God and our fellowship with each other. But did you notice that the term is, in both cases, fellowship “with”? It communicates that we have our own identity while also telling us that we have a partnership, we act together. That’s a beautiful idea, isn’t it? We don’t lose our individuality but it’s made richer and more beautiful by our “fellowship” with God and with others. What a remarkable truth. The apostle Peter uses a related word, koinonos, in one of his letters. His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us to his own glory and excellence, by which he has granted to us his precious and very great promises, so that through them you may become partakers (κοινωνός— koinōnos) of the divine nature, having escaped from the corruption that is in the world because of sinful desire. 2 Peter 1.3-4 That opens up a whole new meaning for us, doesn’t it? We become those who share something in common with another. We become part of each other. We were introduced into this “divine nature” at the time of conversion through the generating power of the Holy Spirit, who gives us life. Then, as we live in the enjoyment of God's precious and magnificent promises, we are conformed more and more into His image so that we become more like him (2 Cor 3.18). The Holy Spirit changes us into the likeness of Jesus from one degree of glory to another. Ancient false teachers (the Gnostics) and more recent ones (Eastern mystics and New Age gurus of all sorts) have often emphasised the importance of attaining transcendent knowledge. But the apostle Peter stressed to his readers that only when we are born anew by God’s Spirit are we able to share in God’s nature. The false prophets of Peter’s day believed that transcendent knowledge elevated people above the need for morality. But Peter countered that notion by asserting that genuine knowledge of God through Christ gives believers all they need to live godly lives. Including ordinary blokes like me. And ordinary people like you. Peter was writing for Greek readers in particular, so he frames this argument in terms of nature, which might be confusing. He doesn’t wish to state that human beings become God. Of course not. Instead, his focus is on the moral change within the believer’s heart and life. As the first man, Adam, was made in the image of God, but something even more marvelous happens through the renewal of the Holy Spirit. We are in a yet diviner sense made in the image of the Most High, and are partakers of the divine nature. (C .H. Spurgeon. Morning and Evening.). METECHO In Hebrews 2:14-15, we read, Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, he himself likewise partook (μετέχω—metechō) of the same things, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery. In the previous verse, the writer has just described the “children God has given” to Jesus, which refers to believers. They are children of God (see John 1.12-13 and 1 John 3.1). The idea is that since His children are human, Jesus had to become human in order to be their Redeemer (1 Peter 1.18-19). There is a word the writer could have used—koinoneo. It marks the sharing of the common fleshly nature (which must include the sin of Adam). The writer instead used metechō (took part of) which describes that Jesus took hold of human nature in the incarnation and held it to Himself as an additional nature. By doing this, He is associating Himself with the human race in its possession of flesh and blood, yet without its sin. He took to Himself something with which by nature He had nothing in common (metechō) - that is, flesh and blood. Whereas human beings possess human nature in common with one another (koinoneo), yet the Son of God took upon himself something that was not natural to Him. One of the requirements of a redeemer in the Old Testament was that one must be related to those for whom the redemption is undertaken. Jesus, our nearest Kinsman-Redeemer, took upon Himself our nature, in order that He might die in our place. In doing so, he paid the price of redemption, which in turn liberates us to take hold of the divine nature, which does not naturally belong to us. That is a remarkable truth. In fact, it is so remarkable that it should cause us to bow down in worship. What took place at Christmas was something well beyond our understanding. Here, I am barely scratching the surface of its wonder. The Son of God put on flesh, yet without sin. (John 1.14) He laid aside his glory to join us in an earthly body, and partook—metechō—of our flesh so that we could have fellowship—koinōnia—with God and with one another. The Greek word “fellowship” is so much more than just a word to describe what happens when we come together as the church, wonderful though that is. It certainly goes beyond any thoughts about monetary gifts. The word describes the miracle of Jesus becoming human but also the miracle of the new birth where we become part of God’s extended family. My own personal journey with this one word, koinōnia, has changed how I see both my place in this world and my role in God’s family. I have discovered that I am not simply called to have fellowship with, but experience fellowship in. I’m called to partake in God’s nature—koinōnos. And as I’ve studied the word metechō, so the wonder has grown. The Son of God took on a new nature, one that joins him to me, and to all of us. He became a human being, yet without sin. Our fellowship with each other is founded upon Christ’s metechō, his partaking of our nature so that he could redeem it and make us new. Allow these thoughts to lead you to worship today.

Meet Pastor Dave Feel-A-Lot. Each Sunday, he talks about his problems from the pulpit. Here’s a typical example. It’s been a hard week, everyone. You know it’s hard when all your appliances keep breaking—(mild titters from the congregation)—fridge, freezer, washing machine. What did I do, Lord? Just send me some fire and brimstone, it would be so much simpler. (More subdued laughter). But seriously, it’s been difficult because my mum is ill right now, and . . . (begins to choke up) well, do pray for her, she’s going in for surgery next week. Okay, let’s turn to Mark chapter 1 . . . Now meet Rev. Steve Zipped-Up. I don’t have a quote from him, because he never shares anything about his life with his congregation. He’s quite a good preacher, but there is never, ever, a reference to anything personal. Nothing about his family; nothing about his interests; nothing about his background. It’s hard, in fact, to work out what he does enjoy in life. Oh, he’s clearly devoted to his God—that’s not in question—but beyond that, most of the congregation knows very little about Steve. I have attended churches led by both a Pastor Dave and a Rev. Steve. They represent two leadership styles; they offer two radically different ways of approaching the sensitive subject of “vulnerability.” So let’s start with some questions. How vulnerable should a leader be? What is healthy vulnerability? What is not? In a faith which teaches “My power is made perfect in weakness”, just how much weakness should leaders demonstrate to the people they lead? In response, it’s helpful to consider one of the buzzwords in church nowadays: authenticity. We’re told that authenticity is important. But what is it? I think it’s a good idea to come at this word with the goal of avoiding its negative. We should never be inauthentic. In other words, we shouldn’t be projecting a false image of ourselves. So, while it’s true that we all wear masks, we should avoid a mask which has little to do with what’s behind it. That’s hypocritical, and we know what Jesus thinks of hypocrites. But this still leaves us with the question, “What does it mean to be authentic?” It doesn’t necessarily mean that we are required to divulge every personal family secret, does it? Surely that would be unwise. Authenticity doesn’t increase simply by revealing lots of personal details. Instead, I think authenticity increases when people catch a glimpse of our hearts. In the church, that means we should invite people into our spiritual journey. Into both the ups and the downs. We shouldn’t be hesitant about confessing to our struggles. Though I don’t like this expression, I can’t avoid it here: Be real. Be honest. Show you care. But of course, this is where we enter the world of vulnerability. If we’re to “be real”, don’t we run the risk that we’ll reveal too much, that we’ll act in ways that aren’t helpful? Certainly. So let’s consider the lives of Jesus and the apostle Paul. Both men were leaders. Both men exhibited vulnerability to their followers. Both have something to teach us. PAUL CONTENT – How much information should I share? How much is too much? What guidelines might be helpful? When we read Paul’s letters, we are made aware of his struggles, but notice that he is often vague about the details. 2 Cor. 12 is a good example. So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. 2 Cor 12.7 What is Paul’s “thorn in the flesh”? We’re never told. He keeps it vague. I think this is very good advice for leaders. When sharing our struggles, we should not go into detail, but instead, we should focus on what we’re learning in order to encourage others. Notice that Paul’s focus is clear: “To keep me from becoming conceited.” That’s the message of this section. There will always be those who want “the gory details”, but they are rarely helpful. They can lead to gossip. The church would not be better off knowing what the “thorn” was. And church members don’t need to know names, dates and other private details. They need to know what the leader has learned so they can learn too. Elsewhere, however, it’s clear that Paul wants some of his followers to know him at a deeper level. He writes to Timothy about this. You, however, have followed my teaching, my conduct, my aim in life, my faith, my patience, my love, my steadfastness, my persecutions and sufferings that happened to me at Antioch, at Iconium, and at Lystra—which persecutions I endured; yet from them all the Lord rescued me. 2 Tim 3.10-11 Timothy, you have watched the way I live my life. Is that not vulnerability? To invite a follower to observe how you live your life? Yet again, the focus is on what Timothy is to learn about God—"yet from them all the Lord rescued me.” There are times when all of us need to unburden ourselves. We need accountability, and we need support. We need to be able to share our inner struggles with people who love us. That’s why we in Living Leadership recommend that all leaders should have some kind of accountability to an individual or group (two or three others) with whom they meet regularly. If we do this, we are far less likely to seek affirmation in inappropriate ways from our community. The well-supported leader doesn’t exhibit vulnerability in order to gain sympathy. The well-supported leader is authentic, but never reveals inappropriate details. What about motivation? When preparing to speak to someone (or a group) about something personal, there are three key questions: What is my motive? Is this helpful to the people I serve? Might I be straying into manipulation? It is extremely easy to fool ourselves. It doesn’t take much before some of us are sharing our inner lives in a way that engenders sympathy or pity. Pastor, that sounds awful. However, when you read Paul’s words about his “thorn in the flesh”, his approach is quite different. It’s clear that Paul has no interest in anyone’s pity. He simply uses his painful experience to teach and encourage. His focus is entirely on what the experience will teach others. Hence the wonder of this verse we all know so well. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Cor 12.9 MANNER – Is Paul an emotional man? Of course he is! He lets rip at times. Just ask the Galatians and the Corinthians who both get an earful. Paul clearly has no problem with revealing just how much he cares. For Paul, it’s all about the truth of the gospel. Hence his explosive letter to the Galatians. The same should apply to us. If we show we care about the gospel, then it’s natural that we will, at times, show our emotions. But again, it’s important to remember those questions above, especially this one: Is this helpful to the people I serve? JESUS CONTENT – Jesus is rather an exception, since he never had cause to share as we do. He never had to cope with shame or guilt. He did, however, call together a close group of friends and become their rabbi. In the first century, rabbis and their followers spent their lives in close proximity. The whole idea was that a follower, or disciple, would both watch and listen. Wisdom from the rabbi’s teaching was then implemented in the rabbi’s life. And the disciple would watch it all. They were invited into both life and teaching—warts and all. This was Jesus’ vulnerability. It’s one of the things that makes him so extraordinary. He was observed at close quarters for around three years, and yet his followers never found any sin in him. He stood apart. But just look at him as he approaches the cross. And he said to them, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death. Remain here and watch.” Mark 14.34 Right as he enters his period of greatest suffering, he shares with his friends. He opens himself up to show them how difficult it is to walk the path before him. That’s vulnerability of the highest order. Again, in John’s gospel, in his high priestly prayer, his heart is entirely exposed. Here he shows his vulnerability because he offers himself so completely to those he loves. Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth. As you sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world. And for their sake I consecrate myself, that they also may be sanctified in truth. John 17.17-19 (It’s worth reading all of John 17) The vulnerability of Christ is not about his struggles with sin, it is expressed most often in the way he communicates his love. He invites his followers to see his heart. When he says he loves them, they believe him. Completely. Because he’s authentic. MANNER – How did Jesus deal with his emotions? By displaying them. He wept, he was angry, and at times, he was disappointed. How interesting that at his lowest moment, he wanted his buddies to be near him. Yet when they fell asleep, he didn’t throw a pity party. He was always true to the emotion running through him. Sadness. Disappointment. Joy. Even anger. Those money-lenders certainly felt the sharp edge of his tongue. He demonstrated the whole gamut, then, but without any intention to manipulate. That’s authenticity. So there you are on Sunday and the story you’re telling starts to pull on your emotions. You choke up. That’s okay. It’s okay to cry once in a while. It’s not okay to weep in order to trigger pity or sympathy. That’s manipulation. But as long as your focus is on the good of your people, their growth, their benefit, and as long as the story is intended to teach them something valuable about the God they serve, then a few tears are not a problem. Later, you’re telling a story about something from your past. It involves some school friends, but you decide to omit names and dates. You leave out the exact details, because they will only distract people from the message of the story. Instead, you focus on what you learned from the experience, and best of all, you speak about the grace and mercy of God, his provision, his goodness, his enduring love. So when the story is over, there is just one focus: the Lord Jesus Christ. You have shared something intimate and painful, but the listeners are left gazing at the cross, at the one who brings healing and who walks with them through their struggles and their temptations. Your vulnerability has been given a purpose: To glorify God. That’s as it should be. *Other leadership titles are available, but the writer of this post likes alliteration.

Editor’s Note: I was very encouraged to receive this post from Phil. The following is a joint effort—Phil’s thoughts with some input from me. Most of all, however, please hear Phil’s voice on this subject. As a leader “in the trenches”, he speaks from personal experience. Here’s our post: But we came here to hear you preach. Just eight words, but eight words that are very revealing. And not in a good way. Indeed, they cut to the heart of what we so often get wrong in our theology of preaching. Because, let’s face it . . . What leader doesn’t want to hear such words? You want to hear me preach? Why, thank you so much! But hold on, because something is not right here. What’s going on when someone says this to a leader? I had cause to consider this question recently when a friend who is contemplating church planting asked about our own church planting experience. First, a word about my own approach to ministry. I had always seen the heart of my role as a pastor in the words of Ephesians 4. So Christ himself gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers, to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ. Eph. 4.11-13 To equip the saints for works of service. There it is. There’s my job description. So even though we were only a small group of twenty-five or so, I set up a preaching group. What better way to fulfil my calling to “equip the saints for works of service”? I believe strongly in the call to “equip the saints” so this is something I have done wherever I have been involved in ministry, and I have always found it immensely rewarding. There can be downsides, of course. It has meant that some of the sermons from the trainees have been a bit rough and ready. Perhaps not as bad as my first sermon. If you had heard that, you would never have asked me to preach again! Preaching is a gift that only grows through its use. You cannot improve without actually practising the gift. As a result, we discovered that one or two had different gifts and needed to drop out of the group. However, most grew in their abilities, and this was wonderful to see. Back to those eight words . . . But we came here to hear you preach. This came from a couple who had joined our church plant and didn’t really get this part of our DNA. So they complained to me with the words you read above. Now I don’t know exactly what was going on in their hearts when they uttered those eight words. However, there were several things going on in mine. The first was a sense of smug pride. Good. They like my preaching. Well done me. But the more I reflected on their words, the more I realised what was wrong with my heart response, and as far as I could read it, with theirs. Here, then, are some lessons for both hearer and preacher alike. HEARER, HUMBLE YOURSELF Why do we listen to sermons? To hear God speak. Plain and simple. Though God uses the gift of communication and the personality of the preacher, this should not be our focus. This is not why we come to church. We should be coming to hear God speak—not to hear the wit or wisdom of the preacher, but to hear the living Word of God as He speaks by His Spirit through His Word. If we’re coming to hear a particular preacher, then we’re coming for the wrong reasons. That was why we rarely used to publicise who would be preaching on any given Sunday. If we’re coming to hear God speak, and if we believe that He does so by His Spirit and through His Word, then it follows that we can be fed and encouraged by “terrible sermons.” I know this for a fact, since I have preached some very shoddy sermons. It has encouraged me no end to hear that God, by his grace, has still spoken to people through them. I love the phrase that someone once shared with me: The mature Christian is easily edified. If we’re coming to a gathering longing for and expecting God to speak, then we are very likely to hear His voice. The challenge for us as hearers is not to harden our hearts. I have listened to thousands of sermons over the years, and I know that my own spiritual health is a critical element which often determines how much I get out of any sermon. As a preacher myself, there is always a terrible risk that in my pride I will be judging the sermon (and the preacher) rather than humbly sitting under God’s Word. So, listener—humble yourself. We come to hear God speak. PREACHER, HUMBLE YOURSELF I suspect that most of us who preach regularly have far too high an opinion of our preaching gifts, and far too low a view of God’s sovereignty in speaking to His people and building His church. The longer I’ve served in ministry, the more I’ve come to understand that my preaching belongs to Him—it is His work—and I can trust Him. Of course, I still work hard and try to be as well-equipped as I can be. But as I enter the pulpit, the words in my mind are “I believe in the Holy Spirit, I believe in the Holy Spirit.”[1] Because unless He is working, then I am waffling on in vain. It puts me in mind of Numbers 22.28. If God can speak through a donkey’s mouth, He doesn’t need me or you! As Exodus 4.11 reminds us, God is the one who gave human beings mouths. He is able to achieve what he wants with them. Preacher, surely the gospel makes it clear. We live to glorify God. So, humble yourself. We want to hear God’s voice not yours. Does this mean we are absolved from working hard to study God’s Word and prepare our sermons? Of course not. Indeed, according to 2 Timothy 2.15, we are encouraged to “rightly handle the word of truth.” Two more Scriptures are helpful here. Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us. Eph. 3.20 If his power is at work in us, when we rise to speak, we know that He is working, He is speaking through us. To this end I strenuously contend with all the energy Christ so powerfully works in me. Col. 1.29 How encouraging to know that the energy within us comes from the Lord Jesus. Notice, however, that Paul says “I strenuously contend.” (In other translations, we read, “striving” or “struggling”.) Effort on the part of the preacher is expected but Paul argues that this striving, contending, struggling is with the energy Christ works within us. Imagine that. We prepare. We speak. We strive. We struggle. But He’s right there within us. He will have His way, and He will speak. Of that we can be sure. THE FRUIT OF OUR LABOURS Who produces the fruit of our labours? The farmer sows the seed and harvests, but God sends the soil, the water, the nutrients and of course, the sunshine. We work; God causes the crop to grow. When you feel overwhelmed, when you’ve not managed to prepare quite as well as you would have liked, be encouraged. There is no need to be anxious. If they have come to hear you speak, they are there for the wrong reason. But if they have come to hear God, then He will speak. He always speaks to those with ears to hear, with those of humble heart eager to hear His voice. After all, if He can speak through a donkey, He can speak through you. 1. The prayer that Spurgeon reportedly prayed every time he entered the pulpit.

We live in a broken world. I’m sure you’ve either used this expression or heard it used. You’ve probably read it too. It’s almost become a cliché in the church. We are broken. But is that the right word to use when describing the world in which we live and the condition of humanity? I’m not sure. I have a daughter who studies linguistics; I’m a novelist; my family reads a lot, so words matter to us. A lot. Some might call me pedantic, and I’m fine with that. Words and their meanings are endlessly fascinating. Word usage reveals a great deal more than many people realise. Especially when it comes to a word as loaded as “broken.” It’s used both inside and outside the church, but I’m not sure we’re all using it in the same way. First, does it accurately describe our condition? Well, it certainly appears to. When something is broken, it no longer fulfils the purpose for which it was designed. A dishwasher that is broken can no longer clean my dishes. The purpose of a human being is to worship God. We are no longer able to do this according to our original design. So “broken” seems to be an appropriate term. So far, so good. However, when you think about the meaning of “broken” a little more deeply, problems arise. First, why do things (or people) become broken? It is true that some things can break by accident. Many who raise children will discover how easy it is for ornaments to break “by accident.” It wasn’t me! It broke by accident! Certainly, accidents do happen. However, even when they do, they occur due to agency. So when I bump into your occasional table by accident, I am, sadly, responsible for the loss of your rather tasteless rearing dolphin glass ornament. Perhaps I lacked the intention to break your dolphin, but I was responsible. I was the one who broke it. Agency. The capacity to act or exert power. So says the dictionary. We live in a broken world, but who is acting here? We are. That should be obvious, but because of our use of the word “broken”, this isn’t clear. Indeed, the word is sometimes used to avoid responsibility. Often when I hear the word used, I feel myself dragged back into the nature-nurture debate. Am I behaving badly because of my genes or my environment? It must be one of those, surely. GENES We’re all dealt a hand, aren’t we? Some of us are tall, others short. Some love numbers, others adore letters. Some are extroverts, others are introverts. Our genetic makeup is not deterministic, but it has a huge influence on the kind of people we become. No question. ENVIRONMENT Some of us live in poverty, others live in lovely big mansions. Some eat healthy food while others eat white bread and butter for their tea. Some of us were beaten by their parents, others were not. Some people lived in medieval times when most women had almost no autonomy. Some are European, others African or Asian or Pacific Islander, all of us living surrounded by a different cultural background. Environment has a huge effect on the lives we lead and the people we become. And all of us are broken. Both our genes and our environment are broken. We’re broken inside and we live among others who are equally broken. That’s how we’ve ended up over-using this phrase, “We live in a broken world.” But can you see the problem here? We’re victims. We were given our genes at birth—they’re not our fault. Nor did we choose our environment. So, we’re victims of our circumstances. Indeed, these two—genes and environment—seem to explain human behaviour in its entirety. No wonder we’re broken. And it’s really not our fault. In response, it is essential to acknowledge that genes and environment are hugely influential. Imagine being raised in the Hitler Youth or working on a plantation in the Deep South during the nineteenth century. We cannot ignore the impact that our cultural and family backgrounds make on the people we become. However, and it’s a big “however”, the Bible never portrays our environment—still less our family background—as a reason to exonerate us. Instead, the Bible begins with a story of human rebellion. We started well, enjoying an unbroken relationship with our Creator, but then we broke it. We were the ones who did the breaking. No one else. It was not our genes or our environment that was responsible for our choice—we lived in a beautiful garden. And though the snake (Satan) was clearly a character in the story, we chose disobedience. We turned away. As the prophet Isaiah puts it so eloquently, “We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way.” The word to describe our human condition isn’t “broken”. There are other more suitable words. Here are a few. Rebellious Sinful Idolatrous Guilty Shameful. I make no apology for how these words make you feel. Indeed, we need to feel them in order to respond appropriately. “Broken” won’t do it. “Broken” easily becomes the means by which we seek to avoid responsibility. I’m not arguing that everyone hears the word this way. Some may continue to hear it as a synonym for “sinful”. And, of course, I have no way of knowing how prevalent this subversive interpretation may be among those who attend your church on Sunday. But I suspect that it’s becoming ever more widely interpreted this way. The reason is perhaps because we have reached the point where the very concept of “sin” is disappearing. Time was when our culture, while not explicitly expressing an evangelical view of Christ, did at least operate within a Christian moral framework. We knew what sin was. Sin was a thing. No longer. Now the world rejects the very idea of “sin” and visitors to your church on a Sunday morning may not understand its meaning. That’s why I’m writing on brokenness. I think it’s a subversive attempt by the enemy to tempt us into believing that we’re not really responsible. That there’s no such thing as sin. We’re all victims. Not only are we born broken, we’ve been broken by external forces. It’s not our fault. So what is the answer? Well, we could start by using the word “broken” the way the biblical authors use it. A related word is often used to express the pain of suffering people. It is for these people that the gospel is such good news. The word is “broken-hearted.” Hence this beautiful passage that Jesus recites in Luke’s gospel when he quotes from the prophet Isaiah. The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, Because the Lord has anointed me To bring good news to the afflicted; He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, To proclaim liberty to captives And freedom to prisoners; Luke 4.18-19 God’s compassion is extended to people who suffer, and the word “broken” never implies a lack of responsibility for sin, but an acknowledgement that we live in a vale of tears, that we face heartache and pain. Often, believers speak of “brokenness” in this way. We feel broken by the loss of a relative or the sickness of a child. Such brokenness sends us to our knees, and so it should. This is a brokenness we all feel at some point in life, and when it causes us to grow in faith or cry out to God, then such brokenness has a transformative effect on the soul. REPENTANCE Most important, however, is the way the bible uses “broken” to express repentance. Here’s one of my favourites. My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart you, God, will not despise. Ps 51.17 David’s use of “broken spirit” communicates the depth of his confession, the strength of his repentance. To be broken is to accept responsibility for sin. Indeed, the uniform teaching of the Bible is that when human beings are broken—meaning they have reached the point where they know they cannot save themselves—then God in Jesus is there to repair them. Make them new. Make us new. We need fixing, and only God can fix us. Only he can restore us. So, may I ask you to think carefully before you use the word “broken” in your church services? Ensure that when you use the word, you are crystal clear about your meaning. Make sure that “broken” can never be misinterpreted to mean “not my fault.” Instead, lead your people to the beautiful, life-giving truth of the gospel, which is that God is close to the broken-hearted, and he mends the broken when the broken confess their sin, their rebellion. He restores and repairs those who fear him, who confess their sin and repent. For it is in acknowledging our sin with a heart broken before the cross of Christ, that we receive God’s grace. From such confession, we are made whole. No longer broken, but restored and made new.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. After his customary greeting, these are the first words the apostle Paul writes in 2 Corinthians. They contain profound truths about God and about the nature of Christian ministry. God is “the Father of mercies” and “the Father of compassion”. Our Father is the source of all compassion. When we feel compassion towards another person, our heart is beating with his. He is also “the God of all comfort”. Our Father’s compassion is not static and unmoving. He does not watch our suffering from a distance, aloof and unresponsive. He brings comfort to those he loves. How does God, our Father, bring us comfort? We may instinctively say that he does it through his powerful promises. The apostle Paul would certainly agree. In Romans 15.4, he speaks about “the comfort of the Scriptures”. God gives us comfort through his Word. But that is not Paul’s focus in 2 Corinthians 1. Here, he speaks about the experience of God’s comfort in the midst of suffering. This is the Word lived out. It is the presence of the Promiser. What, then, is Christian ministry? Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 1.6, “If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer.” This definition is not comprehensive—preaching and teaching are surely also important—but it is certainly a vital aspect of it. Christian ministers suffer alongside people in a way that reminds them of the comfort of God. As we walk with suffering people, we represent God to them. Literally, we re-present him. We present him again to them. We help them see how the promises and presence of God bring comfort in suffering. As Paul describes his own suffering, he does not hold back. He says, “We were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself.” (2 Cor 1.8) Had Paul asked me to edit his letter (scary thought!) I think I would have said, “Now Paul, I think we need to tone that down a bit. Take the edge off. You don’t want them thinking you were a complete ‘basket case’”. My apostolic namesake would undoubtedly have rebuked me, and led by the Spirit, he would have left his words exactly as we read them in our Bibles. Paul did not hide his suffering. He did not pretend it was less than it was. He put it out there for all to see. Why? Because his aim was to help the Corinthians follow his lead, to learn what he had learned through his experience. To “rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead”. This aim works in two ways. Those we care for need to learn to rely on God rather than on themselves. They also need to learn to rely on God rather than on us. The apostle Paul did not want the Corinthians to be dependent on him rather than on God. His appropriate self-disclosure about his own weakness was part of ensuring they wouldn’t. As ministers, we must not give a false impression that we are strong, thereby encouraging people to trust in our strength. Put more bluntly, we must remember we cannot raise the dead! Only God can do that, so anyone putting their confidence in us is bound to be disappointed. You might conduct a nice funeral and people might appreciate it. However, the God of whom you speak at the graveside is the one who will reverse death itself. He is the one who will raise a believer to life in an imperishable body. That’s the compassionate Father who delivers us from deadly perils and carries us tenderly in his arms. Even when deliverance comes through death, the God of all comfort will hold us. This is our hope for those we pastor, and, like Paul, this hope is unshakeable. Leadership goes wrong when we encourage people to depend on us instead of guiding them towards a greater reliance on God. It goes wrong even more profoundly when we turn those entrusted to our care into a source of our own comfort. We feel insecure and so we feed on others’ need of us. We need to be needed. We like to be liked. Paul’s openness can help us guard against this tendency too. The comfort we need is not found in an admiring congregation, but in our great Father. As you care for others, seek your comfort in the God of all comfort. At the same time, Paul models to us a healthy two-way relationship between a minister and a congregation. He will not feed on the Corinthians, but he does ask them to pray for him. (2 Cor 1.11) He knows further trials await him down the road. He knows that God will deliver him. Yet he also knows that God works through the prayers of his people to bring blessing to others. Paul’s confidence in prayer should challenge us as leaders too. The greatest thing you can do for people in your community is pray for them. That is not to say that sitting with them, listening to them, giving guidance and at times caring for their material needs is not important. Of course these things matter, but they must all be underpinned by prayer. When we intercede for others, we reveal our ultimate source of hope in the God of all comfort. “Spiritual love”, writes Dietrich Bonhoeffer, “will speak to Christ about a brother more than to a brother about Christ”. Of course, this works both ways. The greatest thing your community can do for you is pray for you. So, it is right to ask your congregation to pray for you. At Living Leadership, we pray for you too. If you would like us to do that by name, please email us. If you would value being part of a praying group, why not join Refresh Network Online? Or if you would like one of our Associates to walk with you and pray for you, then request support. Ministers of the gospel, remember you are comforted comforters. You are not worthy of the task to which you are called, but that is not a source of shame. Absolutely not. Your weakness and your lack of ability to provide all comfort is the whole point. You are dependent on God and you are helping others to see their dependence on him too. As your Father comforts you, bring comfort to others.

I remember how soft his hands were. I don’t routinely hold the hands of other men, but I do when the man is blind. In fact, we all did. We all held his hands, because this is how we guided him through a cluttered newsroom. And we helped him down the stairs to the cafeteria. That I remember very well. Then we sat with him as we ate our lunch together and enjoyed the company of one of the most extraordinary men I have ever met. Oh yes, I remember how soft his hands were. For the users of braille, soft hands are essential for comprehension. They allow a blind person to feel the bumps in the paper. In the 1990s at BBC Radio Solent, I worked with the man with soft hands, one of the best broadcasters of his generation. He presented a whole variety of programmes before moving off to big-ger things in London. He now presents programmes for the disabled and is one of the presenters on BBC’s flagship consumer affairs programme, You and Yours. His name is Peter White. First, the expertise. Broadcasting is hard. Even when you’re sighted, it’s hard. There is an enormous amount of pressure. Deadlines approach every hour. The news at 3pm is never presented at 3.01pm. You must be ready. The idea of broadcasting as a blind person would turn most people to jelly. What if I’m not ready? How do I work in a world designed for sighted people? To Peter White, however, it seemed effortless. I used to be in awe of his ability to prepare himself. He would sit at his desk and listen to his producer dictate the cues (introductions) and links. His machine was a big clunky metal device not unlike an old-fashioned typewriter, and it stamped its mark on paper with the bumps of braille. Peter would scoop up his pile of paper with five minutes to go and someone would lead him into the studio. I used to think, “What would he do if those pieces of paper got mixed up?” He would be lost. But he was never lost. Ever. He was the consummate professional, running his fingers along the paper, reading his cues and then conducting his interviews with that smooth, silky, beautiful voice of his. He had a way about him—an extraordinary ability to connect with another person. There are so many things I learnt from Peter. Here are some. IMAGINATION AND COURAGE I’m not one of those who believes the modern myth, “you can do anything you put your mind to.” Or “Anything is possible if you just believe in yourself.” I would love to run the 100m at the Olympics or play in a Wimbledon final, but sadly, that is never going to happen. No matter how much I train or “believe in myself.” And no, my inability to achieve these goals is not related to my lack of self-belief. It’s due to my age and my limited athletic ability. So, no to positive thinking as an answer to all our problems. Peter didn’t think like that. He didn’t pretend that he could see. He knew he couldn’t. However, he possessed great belief in his abilities and he had great imagination. He didn’t look at broadcasting and say, “I can’t do that.” He looked at the obstacles he faced and figured out ways to overcome them. That requires both imagination and courage. We all face obstacles in life, and some of us just get stuck. We succumb to our fears. We don’t exercise our imaginations to a sufficient degree, so we just stay inside the realm of possibilities we’ve always known. When facing a challenge, we often give in, because we lack imagination. And we lack courage. We can do better. I know I can. HUMILITY Peter White knew he was blind. He didn’t pretend that he could see. He, therefore, knew that, at times, he needed help. When we went to lunch, Peter could have used his stick to make his way down to the cafeteria. He could have worked his way past the obstacles, bumping his stick against chairs and desks to find his way through. But it would have taken time, and we didn’t have much of that. So he happily offered his hands, and we guided him down to the cafeteria. It was this gentle humility he possessed which marked him out as a person worthy of admiration. I think this was a character trait that made him such a good broadcaster. His humility and gentle demeanour made him approachable, and that is a great quality to have when you’re interviewing people. FAITH Peter trusted those with whom he worked. Broadcasting is all about working in teams. For every presenter you hear, there is a whole team of people in the newsroom doing research, editing scripts, coming up with ideas, not to mention all the tech guys making sure the equipment is working. At BBC Radio Solent, I remember marveling at Peter’s ability to talk and listen at the same time. Even in the middle of an interview, the producer would talk to him through his headphones. Ask him about school investment. Ask her about what happened when she was lost at sea. He hasn’t answered that last question. Ask it again. These words would be filling his headphones at the same time as he was conducting the interview. And the listeners didn’t have a clue. He never hesitated, never became impatient, never gave any indication that he was both talking and listening. It was remarkable. He trusted those around him. He trusted his producer to be there each morning with the scripts all ready to be typed up. He trusted those around him who brought him his tea, who made sure he could get to where he was going. He trusted the team who surrounded him and made him the great broadcaster that he was, and is. This is a skill—and a character trait—that all leaders need. We all know about our need to trust God. That goes without saying. But what about our need to trust others? The truth is, when we trust others to speak, lead and take on tasks normally assigned to the leader, it’s possible that they will fail. It’s possible that they’ll mess up. But no good thing comes unless we’re prepared to set people free to develop their gifts. At some point, the chick must leave the nest and fly. This is scary but essential. As I’ve watched church leaders over the years, one of the most serious deficits I’ve observed is insecurity. The insecure leader causes a great deal of harm to a community. Why? Because the insecure leader won’t let go of power. The insecure leader must always be the centre of attention. Yet it’s essential to trust others with tasks that take away your spotlight. You were never supposed to be the focus of that spotlight in the first place. What did I learn from Peter? That you cannot truly thrive unless you trust others around you. Indeed, when you do, you all thrive together. I’ve written many times about the task of leaders to equip and release, but I make no apology for doing it again. Here is your job description in Paul’s letter to the Ephesians. So Christ himself gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers, to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up. Eph 4.11-12 In the realm of story-telling, it is not uncommon for scriptwriters (authors) to create blind char-acters with exceptional wisdom. The unsighted see more than the sighted, and it’s often be-cause of their disability that they develop the ability to “see” more than others. When we read of such characters, or see them on screen, they often shame us. Our lack of faith, our pride, our insecurities are exposed by the simple faith they demonstrate. They see more than us, when we’re the ones with eyes. In his letter to the Corinthians, Paul writes these well-known words. For we live by faith, not by sight. 2 Cor 5.7 They are words with multiple applications. This verse comes in a section in which Paul is contrasting the life to come with the life of the body, and the suffering that must be faced by the believer, yet with eyes on the prize to come. It is a rich “body-and-soul” passage. We live by faith. Isn’t that the essence of what it means to be a follower of Jesus? We must trust him, for our security is found in the Lord Jesus, and in him alone. Only he can supply our deepest needs. Only when we live by faith will we be ready to let go of our insecurities. And when we do, we ourselves will be released to become true “equippers and releasers” of his people. Sometimes, we cannot see the way forward. We are blind to our own failures, to our insecurities. Yet we live by faith. To live by faith means trusting the One above. And in community, it often involves trusting those around us. So, when I hold someone’s hand, anyone’s hand, I’m reminded of the man with the soft hands. His name is Peter, he is blind, and he taught me a lot about imagination, courage, humility, and faith. Especially faith. And for that I’m grateful.

This is Pastoral Refreshment Conference season. These annual conferences for leaders and leadership couples were the genesis of Living Leadership and they remain the highlight of our year. This week one has been running in Hertfordshire (PRC Central) and next week we have two in partnership with Keswick Ministries in the Lake district (PRC Lakes). Over the years, we have heard story after story of how the Lord has used these oases of refreshment to rekindle joy, pinpoint sin, restore marriages, sustain ministries and renew vision. We pray this year will be no different, especially for those leaders who are in the midst of deep challenges in their families, congregations or denominations. An annual conference to refresh ministers is a wonderful thing (I think that’s not merely organisational hype!) but I’m sure most of us are aware of the dangers of relying on conferences to sustain us. They serve like a spiritual injection of adrenaline. We come away full of zeal and hopefully with some substance to fuel it, but they can only carry us so far. The high is often followed by a low. We must not become conference junkies, lurching from one gathering to the next and never knowing how to sustain spiritual health in the valleys. That is why Living Leadership has a programme of Refresh Ministries that are available around the year. Twice a month we have one hour on Zoom on a Wednesday morning in Refresh Network Online. The format is simple – 20 minutes of input followed by time in groups facilitated by Living staff and Leadership Associates to discuss, share and pray. For spouses we have a monthly online Spouses Community. We are also developing Refreshment Days a couple of times a year in regions of the UK and Ireland, allowing leaders and couples to take a day away to be fed and encouraged. We have dates planned or in planning in May and June for East Anglia, Ireland (north and south), the Midlands, Scotland, South East England and Yorkshire. Full details are (or will soon be) here. Around this rhythm of opportunities for refreshment, our Associates and ministry staff are available to provide one to one refreshment through mentoring and pastoral care for leaders when they need it. If you would appreciate that support, please contact us here. Living Leadership exist for one simple aim – to help Christian leaders live joyfully in Christ and serve him faithfully. Our staff team and growing network of Associates in the UK and Ireland and Affiliates in other European countries pray this for leaders regularly. The following prayer is the kind of prayer we pray for leaders. Perhaps you could join us in praying it for each other or for your leaders (just change the word ‘we’ to ‘they’ throughout)? Loving Father, Almighty God, You are the One who refreshes our souls. Your Words are like sweet like honey to us They are perfect and revive our souls. You have poured out your Spirit on us like water on a thirsty land, He springs up to eternal life in us and flows from our inmost being. Yet we are often weary, Father. We do not draw on you, the spring of living water, but dig broken cisterns. We look for consolation and security in false gods not in you, the God of all comfort. Even in our service for you we succumb to selfish ambition or self-preservation. We are prone to fear and please people rather than you. We are tempted to give in to temptation or give up the fight. Father, we cast ourselves on you again. We love you because you first loved us and in this we find security. We trust you and your promises and so we offer ourselves to your service. We hope in you to renew our strength so we can run and not grow weary. Father, do not lead us into temptation, but deliver us from evil. May we seek your kingdom and righteousness first. May we watch over the souls of your people as those who will give account. May we labour faithfully among your people for the sake of the gospel. We confess our limitations and our tendency to transgress them. Teach us to rest in you and to work hard in your strength. Teach us to care for the bodies you gave us and for the people you call us to serve. Teach us to obey you as your beloved children and to love your children well. Our joy in in Christ Jesus our Lord, In whose name we pray, Amen.

A note to our loyal readers: Hello, my name is Richard Collins. I write most—but not all—of the blog posts on our Living Leadership website. Next week, from 30 Jan to 1 Feb, we’re holding one of our Pastoral Refreshment Conferences at High Leigh Conference Centre in Hertfordshire. I will be there. If you’re a regular reader of our blog, please find me at the conference. I would love to thank you for being one of our regular visitors to the website. Thank you. Here is this week’s post. There’s a cost-of-living crisis. This is not news. You already know this. The cost of living has spiked severely over the past few months. The war in Ukraine hasn’t helped and nor did the mini-budget late last year, but let me stop here for a moment before I enter the political sphere and become devoured by those on both sides of the aisle. Let’s just start with the simple truth that many are struggling. On Wednesdays, I volunteer at a food bank. Each week, I sit at my computer and greet our guests, who come to us with manifold different needs. We prepare a food parcel for them, and yet we are barely scratching the surface of their need. To those on the outside, we are helping people who are struggling with the cost of living. In truth, we are helping people with the cost of surviving. They’re surviving, and when all your focus is on surviving, it’s hard to focus on living. Surviving is not living. It’s, well . . . surviving. Here are a couple of definitions from the dictionary. To endure or live through. To remain or continue in existence. Not “live” but “live through.” So, not really living, but continuing in existence while you pass through something. That’s not much of a life, is it? It’s not supposed to be that way. So, to my first point. In these straitened times, think carefully about how you can support those who are just surviving. I have written previously about the subject of social action. Re-read one of my posts here. Has anything changed since I wrote these back in 2020? The basic principles are the same, but the sheer number of people struggling has increased considerably. Churches cannot hand out money, but they CAN find ways to help the cold and hungry. This is a mandate, not a possible option, and it often requires sacrifice. For leaders, it may also involve stepping out in faith, calling on people to serve who don’t normally serve. But that’s the cost of living. In Genesis, after creating the first humans, God gives this command. God blessed them and said to them, ‘Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground.’ - Gen. 1.28 Be fruitful. Increase. Fill. Subdue. Rule over. These are the words not of surviving but thriving. Another word might be “flourish.” Humans are to flourish on this earth. We are to live before the Lord in a manner which brings him glory, and when we flourish, we thrive. And yet . . . Cost of living. That’s where I started. If living means thriving, then that can be achieved in an almost infinite number of ways. We can create beautiful works of art, build cities, businesses, families, care for people, protect people, solve problems, explore the earth, the list could reach to the moon. However, for all those who follow Jesus, all of these activities are submitted to the Lord. And all our desires and goals are offered to him for his glory, and should be performed according to his ways, to his will. When we do this, we thrive. And yet . . . Cost of living. To truly live, there is a cost. It puts me in mind of this wonderful quote that has been attributed to William Wallace. Every man dies. Not every man really lives. As you may know, William Wallace was the inspirational leader of a ragged band of Scottish warriors back in the 13th century, leading his men to victory in several engagements against the English. For him, living meant sacrifice, and if necessary, the ultimate sacrifice. Which, as you may know, he paid. When we watch a movie like Braveheart, it is impossible not to be reminded of the Lord Jesus, especially when the filmmaker decides that his main character, once captured, will be brought into a castle with outstretched arms, as though on a cross. For our God, “really living” requires sacrifice. To live, we must die. Jesus said it best. Whoever does not take up their cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life for my sake will find it. - Matt 10.38-39 Whoever loses their life for my sake will find it. That is the cost of living. That’s what it costs to live. Truly live. And to do that, sacrifices must be made. We must be brave and bold, like William Wallace. We seek to follow Christ, who faced the ultimate sacrifice, and though he agonised in the garden, submitted to his father in heaven. When you consider the phrase “cost of living,” I wonder if you’re challenged. Have you “gone soft?” Do you always play it safe, or do you step out in faith? Is your eye on what others think, or will you follow the Lord’s leading? There are no formulae here. There is no “one-size-fits-all” that I can offer, except to point you to Jesus. His life, his example, and most importantly, his Spirit who leads you, and whom you are called to obey. That one applies to us all, and it especially applies to leaders, because surrounding all leaders are voices demanding, complaining, pestering, urging, pulling, pushing. The one sure thing is that the leader who seeks to please all people will please no one. Leadership requires conviction, wisdom, courage, and faith. Because that’s the cost of living. It’s the cost of thriving. If we want to thrive, we must be ready for sacrifices, and when they’re demanded, we must be ready to obey. We must be ready to die to ourselves, for by so doing we are joined to Christ in his resurrection. St. Paul writes, For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly also be united with him in a resurrection like his. - Rom 6.5 We have been united with him in a death like his. If you’re a believer, you have swapped death for life, and are called to die each day to your old life. Your life no longer belongs to you, but to God, who will raise you up on the last day. For he alone has shown us the true “cost of living.” Christ himself paid that cost at Calvary, in order to give us life. His cost, the ultimate price, has been paid and we are the beneficiaries. Give thanks today for the life you’ve been given by your kind and loving God, who gave up his Son so that you might live. Then go and die for his sake, so that you might express his resurrection life in yours.

After leaks, interviews, and much brouhaha, the book is now out. Yes, that book. Spare, by Harry, Duke of Sussex, is now available in all good bookstores . . . and well, it’s everywhere, isn’t it? All over social media, on TV, on the newsstands, and never far from a comedian’s witty repertoire. This is a story which just keeps on giving. At least it is if you sell scandal and enjoy gossip at a level “never-before-reached.” This is not just a family tearing itself apart, but one of the most famous families in the world engaging in internecine warfare at its worst. No one is winning. Both sides are losing. (It could be argued that only one side is fighting, but that’s a minor detail. This one will run and run. Sadly.) Are there warnings here? Is there something we can learn? So, first a confession. I have found myself caught up in this story. It has not drawn out the best in me. We all have a little schadenfreude inside us and this story unlocks mine with alacrity. That’s not good. I have found myself at war with my own darkness. We should never enjoy others' suffering. So, here’s my first warning. Be careful of judgementalism. There is a lot to judge here, and it’s just so easy to feel superior when engulfed in the grisly details of the super-wealthy, super-celeb[1], super-privileged. It's easy to forget that Harry and Meghan are just human beings. Fallen like us. Sinful like us. So are William and King Charles and the rest of the royal family. They never have been blameless. A quick read through the history books will soon uncover a family line capable of horrors. Just like our own, probably. So, no to the judgementalism. Better, surely, to look to the Bible and seek a little wisdom. Because this story is reportedly about sibling rivalry. That’s the source of the pain. That’s the source of the anger, the outbursts.[2] Why him and not me? Harry, meet Cain. Harry, meet Ishmael. Harry, meet Jacob. Harry, meet Joseph. Harry, meet the prodigal son. You get the drift. First, this isn’t just about primogeniture. Not all those listed above were second-born. Some were, but not all. CAIN The account in Genesis is sparse, sufficiently sparse that we often speculate as to why Cain felt so hard done by. What was wrong with his sacrifice? The Apostle John doesn’t waste time messing about. His words are damning. Do not be like Cain, who belonged to the evil one and murdered his brother. And why did he murder him? Because his own actions were evil and his brother’s were righteous. 1 John 3.12 Whoa. So what does Genesis give us? Then the Lord said to Cain, ‘Why are you angry? Why is your face downcast? If you do what is right, will you not be accepted? But if you do not do what is right, sin is crouching at your door; it desires to have you, but you must rule over it.’ Gen 4.6-7 Cain was the firstborn, but there is nothing in the text about his relationship with his brother. There is no information about sibling rivalry. He’s just so furious that he turns on him. It appears that Cain was consumed by fury over God’s rejection of his offering. If John is right, then he had permitted himself to be governed by Satan. That’s a strong charge. What had gone so terribly wrong? Without wishing to speculate too much, it certainly looks like his pride had been offended. Let’s leave him there. JACOB I have serious issues with Jacob. Okay, I’ll confess. I don’t like him. At least, I don’t like him at the beginning of his story. Who would? Conniving, deceitful, his name means “deceiver.” At least that’s what I thought until I did some reading. The actual meaning is closer to the word “supplant.” It also means “to follow, to follow behind” and then has connotations of “circumvent, assail, overreach.” Talk about a man living into his given name, Jacob is slimy and manipulative. Yet, I have been challenged by God’s perspective and his work in Jacob’s life. Jacob’s story is absolutely saturated with the grace of God. The Lord’s mercy towards him is truly extraordinary, and Jacob responds. You can see that when he agrees to meet with Esau and reconcile. He is a changed man, and God is the architect of that change. JOSEPH A favoured son, Joseph appears a little naïve when he shares his dreams with his brothers.[3] And as you know well, he pays for it. But again, it is the Lord whose character shines most brightly as we read. He takes a man in despair, and works to restore him at the same time as using him to save an entire nation. Like Jacob’s, Joseph’s story reminds us of God’s purposes. God alone is sovereign over him. He never abandons him (though he languished in prison for two years), but instead fulfils the words we read at the end of Genesis. But Joseph said to them, ‘Don’t be afraid. Am I in the place of God? You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives. Gen 50.20 God intended it for good—never a truer word spoken, but just as importantly—Am I in the place of God? Joseph correctly identifies the one who is sovereign over all their lives. THE PRODIGAL SON I don’t need to rehearse this story. It’s one of the most powerful in the Bible, capable of touching the most resistant of souls. Here I think we are in Harry territory. The younger son who leaves home to pursue his own goals. No social media or book deals for this younger son, but if there had been, the Father would have been roasted. And as we know, it doesn’t go well. He didn’t have a $20m book deal to fund his partying, or TV talk show hosts to tell “his truth.” He was starving. I wonder if one day, Harry will find himself starving. Not physically, but starved of familial connection. He is no different from us all. The love of family is immensely precious and he appears right now to have lost it. Those bridges will be hard to repair. So, I tell myself, less of the judgementalism, and a little more compassion is needed. From all of us. ISHMAEL I’m finishing with Ishmael, but his story is not so much about him as his mother. We learn little of Ishmael, though he is there at the burial of his father, Abraham. He is called “a donkey of a man,” not exactly a compliment, but the Scriptures focus, of course, on his brother, Isaac, the son of the promise. These are the Hebrew Scriptures, after all. So allow me to turn to his mother, Hagar. Her story is one of the most heart-rending in the Bible. She was a slave, and that meant that when Abraham “took her as his wife,” he was using her for his own ends. What was he thinking?! That’s abuse, plain and simple. She was an abused woman. Abraham and Sarai act shamefully in this story. We know little of Hagar, though it’s recorded that she mocked Sarai at the weaning celebration of Isaac. However, the core of the story is the way she is treated by others. Where was God in all this? What was he doing? Hagar, it turns out, is the only person in the Old Testament who encountered the angel of the Lord twice. Twice. To my knowledge, no other person can claim that. As she was running away, alone in the desert, she met the Lord.[4] Here are the key verses. Then the angel of the Lord told her, ‘Go back to your mistress and submit to her.’ The angel added, ‘I will increase your descendants so much that they will be too numerous to count.’ Gen 16. 9-10 The story is filled with pathos, especially when, years later, she lays her son under a bush and awaits death. She encounters the Lord who is described as “the Lord who sees me.” Notice in these verses that the call to submission is followed by “I will increase.” As Hagar submits, the Lord responds with enormous blessing, for one’s descendants were of great significance in the ancient world. And that’s where I’ll leave her. What is the unifying theme in all these stories? God’s grace, naturally, but also God’s sovereignty. I think we hear it when the angel says to Hagar, “Go back to your mistress and submit to her.” There is no self-realisation in these stories. Every individual is subsumed within the great plans of God for his people. And not just his people, Israel. Ishmael is also the father of a nation. In fact, whenever a character chooses to force the issue—kill a brother, steal a birthright, claim an inheritance early—things do not go well for them. Each man who overreaches ends up suffering greatly. Yet in all things, God. His ways, his plans, his purposes—they are never thwarted. The story of his people continues to unfold just as he planned. And so I return to those words above: Why him and not me? Why indeed? Why are any of us dealt the hand we’re dealt? I cannot say, but when we force the issue and rail against what is given to us, things often turn out badly. What about you and those you serve? Our nation is going through a lot of anguish right now. “Why me?” may well be on the hearts of your people. Though it is a hard lesson, we can choose to complain, or we can accept what we’re given and give thanks. Gratitude is one of the most precious forms of submission. So give thanks for life and all its many wonders. Go back to your mistress and submit to her. After her encounter with the angel of the Lord, I wonder what life Hagar was given. Perhaps not an easy one, but I believe after she had submitted to the Lord’s will (and returned to her mistress), she would have lived her life remembering “the Lord who sees you.” She and Ishmael were not forgotten, and nor are we. No one is “spare.” For God’s sovereignty and his purposes are eternal. No birth order can change that. 1. Super-celeb – a word I made up. 2. Harry’s behaviour is also driven by intense anguish over the death of his mother. 3. Scholars disagree over Joseph’s motives in sharing his dreams with his father and brothers. Some say he is arrogant; others say he’s foolish. At a very minimum, he seems naïve, but you must make your own decision and base it on the text in Genesis 37. 4. I won’t speculate on his identity here. Angel or pre-incarnate Christ, he was God or God’s representative to Hagar.

“So, you’re saying we should be consistent in our murders?!” My Living Leadership colleague looked at me askance . . . then laughed. The comment was a reflection on something I shared from 2 Samuel in the opening devotions of our staff meeting. It’s one of those roller-coaster reads, charting David’s story after the death of King Saul. We were focusing on the first four chapters, that I’ll summarise here. Chapter 1 A young Amalekite comes to David, bearing Saul’s crown and armlet. He claims he killed the former king. It is a lie. Saul actually took his own life after being wounded in battle with the Philistines. It seems the Amalekite hopes that David will reward him for this news. David, however, orders the man’s execution instead, asking “Why weren’t you afraid to lift your hand to destroy the Lord’s anointed?” It’s the same principle David followed in 1 Samuel when he repeatedly refused to kill Saul. Chapter 2 David becomes king over the tribe of Judah while Ish-Bosheth, son of Saul, reigns over the other tribes. Civil war ensues; David’s armies are led by his nephew, Joab. Ish-Bosheth’s are commanded by Abner. After David’s army is victorious in battle, Joab’s swift-footed brother, Asahel, pursues Abner as he retreats. Abner tries to warn Asahel off, but he won’t be deterred. Eventually, Abner hits him with the butt of his spear, presumably not intending to kill him, but Asahel dies. Chapter 3 Abner recognises his side is losing, so decides to negotiate peace with David. As he returns home from the negotiations, Joab goes after him, tricks him, and murders him. David curses Joab in strong terms and makes a public show of his own innocence in the matter—gaining favour with the people—yet he does not call for Joab’s execution. Chapter 4 Two of Ish-Bosheth’s commanders assassinate him and bring his head to David, expecting his approval. David reminds them of the precedent he has set (see chapter one) and commands that they too be executed because they killed “an innocent man in his own house and on his own bed”. So, these chapters spotlight seven deaths with four different causes: · Three executions—the Amalekite and Ish-Bosheth’s two killers. · Two murders—Abner and Ish-Bosheth. · One suicide—Saul. · One accidental killing—Asahel. In our staff devotions, I presented David as a lesson in integrity. Hence my colleague’s quip. Of course, my focus wasn’t on murder, but on consistency, a sign of integrity. There were murders in the story, but David was not responsible for either of them. He was the one who commanded execution twice. But he was inconsistent in letting Joab off with a nasty cursing that was not backed up with actions. In this, David lacked integrity. I’m glad I don’t have the power to call for executions – not even of cheeky colleagues. Nor do you. At least I hope your code of conduct in ministry doesn’t include that provision! But there is a lesson here. We also need to be consistent in our executions – our “follow through” for want of a better phrase. Integrity means doing what we say we’ll do, and acting consistently with what is true and just. Was David right to carry out the execution of the killers of Ish-Bosheth and the Amalekite who falsely claimed to have killed Saul? I’ll leave that to you to decide. While the principle of capital punishment for murder is clear in the Law of Moses, we may have questions about the legitimacy of David’s judgement in these specific cases. Joab’s murder of Abner, however, is a very different case. It’s clear-cut. Abner did not deserve to be executed. He accidentally killed a man who was pursuing him from a battlefield. And he did it through an act of self-defence. Yet Joab murders Abner in a cold-blooded act of vengeance without trial. David knew Joab’s action was unjust. He cursed him in the strongest terms. Yet David didn’t order his execution. His impressive words were not matched by actions. Why not? I can think of three potential reasons. Joab is the son of David’s half-sister Zeruiah. Is this a case of “blood running thicker than water”? Does David hold back because of family loyalty or nepotism? Joab was powerful and influential. After David curses Joab, we read, “And today, though I am the anointed king, I am weak, and these sons of Zeruiah are too strong for me. May the Lord repay the evildoer according to his evil deeds!” It seems David was afraid of Joab and uncertain that he had the power to have him executed. Is this a case of “fear of man” holding David back from acting justly? Joab was useful to David. Later, David instructs Joab to arrange the death of Bathsheba’s husband, Uriah, to cover up David’s sin. Had David identified a useful “henchman” to do his dirty work? All three factors may have played a part in David’s inaction, although the text particularly emphasises his fear of Joab. It is tragic to observe this in a man capable of such greatness. David, who composed such beautiful psalms . . . who killed Goliath . . . whose love for his friend, Jonathan, was legendary . . . who refused to take Saul’s life . . . who waited patiently for God’s promise of kingship to be fulfilled. This same David succumbs to the base human instinct for self-protection. He is enslaved to nepotism, fear of man, and corruption. The sordid tale of chapter eleven (adultery with Bathsheba and Uriah’s murder) will show how far David will fall, but already in chapter three, we see cracks appearing. Integrity is precious. I have seen many examples of people who, lacking integrity, have reaped devastating consequences. I am sure you have too. The poisonous fruit of compromise often takes time to ripen. Later in 2 Samuel, Joab will murder again, killing his cousin, Amasa, while greeting him with a kiss. Sound familiar? And then he ends up plotting against David over the king’s succession. David knows this guy is no good, so in his dying words to Solomon in 1 Kings, he tells his son and successor to be sure to get rid of Joab. Solomon does so through a man called Benaiah. How sad that the man who faced down a Philistine giant as a lad would permit this dangerous and destructive man to wreak havoc in his kingdom for so many years. And perhaps sadder still that he leaves Joab’s execution to his son as an inheritance. God is calling for leaders who will stand on principle. To be sure, we must be careful that our principles are his, but when they are, we must stand firm. God wants people of conviction who have the courage to speak truth in humility. Leaders with backbone. It seems to me that many leaders today tolerate what they should not because of what they call “compassion” or “pastoral sensitivity”. More likely what’s happening is they allow emotion to lead them and they cave in to the fear of man. It seems easier in the short term, but it only hurts more people, and creates more headaches in the longer term. Misguided “compassion” may be one of the world’s most destructive forces. Integrity can be painful. It may mean you lose out. Confidentiality has a cost. It means you cannot explain yourself. You resign because something is wrong while others seem quite happy to hold on to their position despite knowing what you know. You may suffer loss because of integrity, but it is worth it. Integrity pays dividends in this life—protecting others and gaining trust—and in eternity. After all, one day we will give account to the God of total integrity. I realise no leader can claim absolute integrity. That certainly includes me. Praise God for his grace which covers us when we confess our sins. We can hope for restoration where we have failed. That may not be fully possible in this life, but it will certainly be perfected in glory. So, if you realise you have compromised your integrity, repent and seek God’s forgiveness. Then act to bring restitution, where you can, to those your failings harmed and to limit future ramifications. It is not enough only to confess it to God. True repentance, as it did for Zacchaeus (Luke 19), spurs us to make recompense. As you look ahead to this new year and beyond, maintain your integrity. Have the courage of your convictions. Resist nepotism and all other forms of favouritism. Say no to convenient pacts with people of poor character just because they are “gifted” or can offer something to your cause. And do not let the fear of man motivate you to do what is wrong, or to refrain from doing what is just. Stand strong in God’s strength and for his glory. If you want to explore the theme of integrity, especially in leadership, I recommend Jonathan Lamb’s book entitled Integrity: Leading With God Watching (IVP, 2006).