The Light of the World

Jesus said, 'I am the Light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.' (John 8:12)

I must have read or heard those words hundreds of times. But yesterday they seemed to leap out at me, making me pause awhile and think what Jesus meant by that oft-quoted metaphor.

Light.

We take it for granted these days, with mains electricity in all the developed world, and much of the developing world too. In New Testament times, however, people were limited to candles or oil lamps. A lot of them were needed to light a big room, and they required a fair amount of effort to keep going. Their main form of light was, of course, the sun. Most of the work was done in the daytime outside, or in rooms with plenty of windows.

Light banishes the darkness.

In Patricia M St John's book, 'Treasures of the Snow', which I first read as a young child, there's an image which has always stuck with me: the idea that when we open shutters to let in the light, the darkness simply disappears. We don't have to rush around trying to get rid of it first, or worry about it at all once the light floods the room. So it is with our sin. Some people seem to think they have to get rid of all their wrong attitudes and behaviours before they're good enough to come to Jesus. Or even to enter a church. But it doesn't work that way. We come to Jesus because we're sinners, full of darkness. In his light, the darkness vanishes. It's forgiven. Forgotten. Gone.

That's not to say it doesn't sometimes return; of course it does. When we turn away from Jesus, our old habits recur. Life isn't always easy, and we're flawed humans. We will never be fully in the light as long as we're living on this earth. But any time, any place, we can turn to Jesus and have our sin - our darkness - wiped away in his light. He paid the penalty we deserve. He is always the light, and in him we too can have a the light of life.

Light uncovers what is hidden.

There is much that we hide, in addition to our sin. Perhaps we have some sordid family secret that we don't want anyone to know about. An abusive parent. A rebellious child. A sibling in prison. Perhaps we were badly hurt in the past, and try to hide it. There are many things which are not our fault - not our sin - yet which almost choke us as we pretend all is well, make cheerful small talk, smile and clap as we sing in church.

But we can bring everything to Jesus, including these things which make us embarrassed or angry. He can help us to forgive, and he can show us that in everything he is there for us. One day perhaps we'll understand why something happened - possibly even see some good come out of it - but equally, we may never know. What matters is that Jesus is there for us, loving us, taking us in his arms and letting us know that he understands.

Light reveals the path ahead.

It's easy to stumble or go the wrong direction in the dark. But by daylight we can see the road, and where it leads. Those who live without Jesus may have many plans for their future, but they don't really know where they're going. With Jesus, we may not know what tomorrow brings - we may only be able to take one step at a time - but in his light we know the path is there, and that he holds his hand out to guide us.

Immortal, invisible...

(Amazon UK link)

I've been re-reading JB Phillips' classic, 'Your God is too Small'. Such a small book, so simply written, and yet so full of wisdom.

At first glance, what he says may be obvious: we mustn't create God in our own image, or try to fit him into a box. We mustn't limit him to our childish preconceptions, we need to view him - and the Bible - through adult eyes. Yes, Jesus said we need to become like little children, but that doesn't mean we should be childish. Talking about God as our Father doesn't mean we ONLY see him as a father. Our earthly fathers may have been good, or they may have been terrible. Or even non-present. God is the ideal Father - all the best that is fatherhood - but he's so much more as well.

Philips divides the book into sections, starting with twelve common misconceptions about God, plus a few other lesser ones. I suspect that which one(s) we tend to adopt depend on our personality type as well as our upbringing. For instance, the first wrong idea mentioned is that of 'resident policeman'. The voice of conscience. Yes, God can and does speak through our consciences, but they need to be refined and flooded regularly with Scripture. Otherwise we can get quite the wrong idea of what morality is. 

Parents, propaganda, even sermons can convince the over-sensitive that all kinds of things are wrong which Scripture doesn't forbid at all. A child brought up by vegetarians may feel his conscience telling him that it's wrong to eat meat, whereas it's generally a personal preference. We probably all know of Christians who are convinced it's morally wrong to drink any kind of alcohol (ignoring the fact that Jesus and his disciples drank wine) or even to use musical instruments in worship (despite Psalm 150).

Then there's the reverse problem of those who are less sensitive, and convince themselves that harmful activities are perfectly all right - that the Bible is a bit outdated, that nobody these days expects lifelong monogamy or total honesty in declaring income for tax purposes. They don't feel any pricking of their consciences, so they assume their behaviour is just fine.

Our consciences are important, but they're not always the voice of God.

Another example is that of the 'heavenly bosom'. One of the great old hymns by Charles Wesley, if taken at face value, seems to imply that we should simply hide in God's arms when circumstances are difficult. Like a small child running to his mother, after being scared by a big dog. Yes, of course we can go to Jesus any time, and there is a contentment deep within that comes from knowing him. But we certainly shouldn't expect him to shield us from all that life throws at us. Christians through the ages have faced terrible situations, often painful death, because they have refused to run away and hide. We were promised life in all its fullness, but not that it would be free of problems or pain.


We will never fully understand or know God, since he is infinite. But we need to acknowledge this rather than trying to pin him down or see him in rational or human terms. He can speak through our consciences, but he doesn't always. He is our Father, but he's so much more. We can go to him any time, but sometimes he sends us out to overcome increasingly difficult challenges. He has existed for eternity, but he is not outdated...

'Your God is too Small' is not complex theology, but it's very thought-provoking.

Listening and loving

As a child, I was afraid of dogs. I told people I hated them. I didn't like looking at their pictures. I moved as far away as possible from anyone walking a dog. I didn't want to go into a house where I knew there was a dog living.

Why?

Apparently, when I was a toddler, a large and probably over-friendly dog jumped at me and terrified me. It took years for me to learn to like dogs again.

Others have more painful experiences: perhaps they were knocked over, or bitten by a dog. Perhaps they knew someone who was ravaged by a dog. Perhaps they had early experience of highly-trained guard dogs who would attack strangers. Some of them may never really come to accept dogs as (mostly) friendly, tame pets.

Fear or distrust of dogs is so common that when we hear someone insisting they hate dogs, we assume they've had a bad experience with them in the past. We're sympathetic, on the whole. We might make gentle enquiries about why they feel that way. We might share our own similar experiences. We might show them photos of soft and cuddly dogs that could hardly fail to make them smile. Or we might just leave the topic alone.

What we don't do is to start heavy arguments about why dogs are wonderful, or tell them they should come with us to the local stray dogs' home. We don't give them heavy books about why a dog is man's best friend, or try to convince them of the pointlessness of having gerbils or hamsters as pets.

So.... why do so many Christians take a heavy line with people who attack the church, or their personal beliefs? Chances are that someone who is suspicious of Christianity has been injured in some way in the past by Christians. Perhaps they had a rigid and dogmatic upbringing, heavily disciplined for any infringement of Christian values. Perhaps they were spurned at a church they visited for dressing in scruffy jeans. Perhaps they've come across hypocritical Christians who say one thing and do another.

John Piper says:

Let us learn to discern whether the words spoken against us or against God or against the truth are merely for the wind--spoken not from the soul, but from the sore. If they are for the wind, let us wait in silence and not reprove. Restoring the soul, not reproving the sore, is the aim of our love.

(from "A Godward Life")


How right he is. When other people attack us, or our faith, or the church, or even God, it does no good at all to argue. Yes, we need to be sure what we believe and be prepared to explain it. But we need to do so from the perspective of the person we're talking to. Jesus told us that the entire law is summed up in the commands to love God, and to love our neighbours as ourselves. Loving our neighbour doesn't just involve doing practical things for them. It can mean listening to them at a deep level, hearing where they're coming from, understanding why they've formed the views they have. Maybe at some point we can introduce them to Jesus, but we're unlikely to to have any effect until we've shown them honest friendship and shown that we take them seriously.

Literal vs Metaphorical

I do not take every word of the Bible literally.

Before anyone brands me a heretic, let me explain. There's a lot of confusion about the word 'literally' these days. I've read and heard people say things such as:

My heart was literally in my mouth!

This book was so exciting, the pages literally turned themselves!

I can only assume that some people don't know what literally means. Because in fact what they mean is 'metaphorically'. Someone's heart remains literally where it's always been. Book pages do not literally turn themselves.

Why use the word 'literally' at all, though?

Recently in studying and discussing differences of personality type and temperament, one of the issues that cropped up was that of abstract vs concrete language. About 75% of the US population (and perhaps other populations too) tend to use mostly concrete language. The rest - and I'm among them - who prefer the abstract tend to use metaphors as a matter of course.

Now some metaphors have made it into everyday speech and are widely used by all. I used the phrase 'cropped up' and indeed 'concrete language' - hoping that anyone reading this will understand the meaning I'm giving to the words. And because a high percentage of fiction writers use metaphorical language, such phrases have crept into common usage too. If I say my heart was in my mouth, most English-speaker would know that I meant I was very tense and frightened.

But perhaps those who prefer the concrete style are actually uncomfortable with metaphor. So when they use such phrases, they have to add an extra word - and, bizarrely, choose 'literally' because they like the literal use of language and perhaps it truly felt as if their heart really was in their mouth.

Back to the Bible.

When people say they take every word literally, they usually mean they believe what's written in the Gospels about Jesus - including the miracles - and they believe in Creation as outlined in Genesis, and they take seriously things they perceive as commands to the church.

Well, so do I. But on the other hand, there are plenty of metaphors too: Jesus used them frequently. When he said he was the light of the world, or a gate to a sheepfold, or the bread of life, we know he meant them metaphorically. Sometimes he explained what he meant, but not always. So how do we know? Because of our own cultural experience, and what we've been taught.

However, our understanding may well be limited or even wrong. For many years I thought the gate to the sheepfold was something wooden with hinges. Then an elderly minister in a school assembly I was visiting told the relevant story to the children. He got some children up front to be a sort of hedge with a gap in it, and others to be the sheep. Then he himself got down on the floor, and lay across the gap. That, he told us, was what the 'gate' was like in ancient Israel. The shepherd really did - literally! - form the gate which both kept the sheep in, and kept any wolves or thieves out.

So some of the Bible may be more literal than we realise. Other parts may be less so. People come up with all kinds of explanations for some of the more confusing statements, and sometimes it's impossible to tell exactly what was meant, although usually we have a good idea.

We will never fully comprehend everything in the Bible while we're on earth. Jesus said that the Holy Spirit would help us remember his words, and understand them. As we read the Bible, and listen for the voice of God, we may well begin to understand better. It's also important to learn about the culture of the times, to read books written about the Bible, and to discuss our ideas and questions with our Christian brothers and sisters. But let's not be rigid. Too many battles and divisions within the Church have arisen because of verses taken out of context, or different interpretations. Jesus said that the first commandment was to love God, and the second was to love our neighbour. If we differ from our neighbour (or indeed our brother at the church on the other side of town) in some doctrinal issue, let's go with the principle of love and let the Holy Spirit work in us both.

Education: what is it?

"Don't let schooling interfere with
your education."
~ Mark Twain ~

This quotation from Twain is often used by home educators, to point out the obvious (but frequently ignored) truism that education and schooling are not the same. Mass schooling really only began in the late 19th century. Before that, the majority of people learned all they needed from their extended family, friends, acquaintances, and life experiences. 'Schooling' was sporadic for most, and consisted of learning particular skills such as basic reading and writing, arithmetic, and perhaps the recital of historical facts.

When we started home education - just for a year, so we thought, when we moved to Cyprus - I had not really understood the difference. I thought, vaguely, that 'education' consisted of learning, from experts, certain subjects such as history, French, biology, etc, up to what we call GCSE level, and then specialising in a few subjects for a couple more years. 'Further education', I thought, consisted of taking just one or two of those subjects and studying them in much greater depth, to degree level.

Since my own specialist sixth-form subjects were maths and ancient Greek, and I had forgotten almost everything I learned in school by the time we started home education, I was sure I could not 'teach' anything beyond primary school level. My sons were 11 and 9 when we started, and I was quite convinced they would have to go to secondary school to get 'an education'. Even at 11, my older son knew more about science than I did. So I bought books, got copies of their UK primary school's monthly and weekly curriculum plans, and tried to organise our days as similarly as possible to those in their school.

Right?

Nope. That is NOT education. I was trying to 'school' the boys, based on our prior experience. Thankfully the Internet led me to forums and lists which discussed home education in all its possible forms, and we quickly realised that at home there was no reason at all to follow the pattern of schools. The boys realised this almost immediately; it was me who needed to re-learn what 'education' means. UK law (which we were following) requires children to be educated 'at school or otherwise'. Not 'schooled' but educated. If it's not at school, then it's 'otherwise'. The law goes on to say that it must be according to age, ability and aptitude. Something that schools try hard to follow, but with 30 children and one teacher per class, it's impossible for every child to be treated fully individually.

Undoubtedly some children and teenagers do enjoy school, and gain a great deal from it, including some education. But there are many different personality types, and many different styles of learning. Neither of my two has the 'Guardian' temperament which fits best into a structured school day. So, although I really did NOT want to move to Cyprus, I soon became very thankful that God brought us here, and essentially pushed us into home education, since it's an option I would probably not have considered if we had remained in the UK.

Within a year we knew this was the right path for our family. The boys blossomed. I blossomed. I realised (and how obvious it seemed when I did) that since I had forgotten the majority of what I learned in school, it probably wasn't very important. My husband, who was not at all keen on the idea of home education at first, acknowledged that nearly everything of significance which he had learned had been outside school, or - at best - in after-school clubs.

My older son is now nearly 20 and travelling the world on the MV Doulos. When I spoke to him on the phone recently, he said how much he's enjoying the process of learning so many new skills - deckhand work, carpentry, metal-work, teaching drama, water-testing, jazz dancing, and much more. We never did much chemistry at home, but it hasn't held him back. Perhaps the main thing he learned in his years at home was that there's no limit to education. If he wants to learn something new, he can. His only worry is that there's too little time for all the activities he wants to do, and the things he wants to learn in depth.

My younger son, nearly 18, is about to embark on an open theology degree. He's also about to become the main organist at the local Anglican church. He gives guitar lessons to a friend's son. He has helped many people with computer problems, since he has a highly technical mind and quick intuitive grasp of what has gone wrong.

Has their education been balanced, as it would have been in school? No. I admit it freely. They did use an American correspondence course to get diplomas, just in case they ever want to go to university, but the vast majority of their education was informal, self-motivated, and done without any formal teaching or structure. They read, they researched, they asked questions. And they still continue to do so.

So I'm very thankful that for the past eight years we have absolutely not allowed schooling of any kind to interfere with our sons' education!