In which I decide to follow Jesus Archives - Dreaming Beneath the Spires

It’s all God’s money: Thoughts on “the Cattle on a Thousand Hills”

The Staffordshire Horde of Angl0-Saxon gold

One of the hardest things to have wise, sane, healthy thoughts about is money–since money is not mere zeroes on a bank statement, but the fruit of our labour, and our luck; a force which affects almost every area of our lives…our housing, surroundings, health, education, friendships, social life, vacations, leisure, thought-life, trust in God, and openness to His generous nudgings… Jesus says “Mammon,” money, is the biggest competitor to the love of God and the joy of God being the predominant force in our lives. It’s not easy to grasp Jesus’s thoroughly sane and foreign perspective on money. But seeing his life— intense, faith-filled, joyous, and infinitely influential, it’s well worth trying.

* * *

“It’s all God’s money,” I frequently repeat this useful mantra. I can be hard on myself, expecting too much wisdom and good sense of myself (and others!). As I tidy my house, and my eyes fall on books I haven’t read, boxed DVD sets I haven’t yet watched, clothes I have barely worn, furniture that I bought quickly and conveniently, rather than carefully and judiciously, I think “Gosh, that was a waste of money.” Sort of!

The only real waste of money, however, is to fling it into the ocean, or to burn a twenty pound note as a Cambridge undergraduate was filmed doing to torment a homeless man. Otherwise, when it comes to wasted purchases, God’s money flowed through my unwise hands into the department stores,’ and if I donate these things to a charity shop, it can flow into yet someone else’s hands, and I will have been a conduit of God’s blessing.

It’s the same with gym memberships, National Trust memberships, or Royal Horticultural Society memberships I haven’t fully used. It wasn’t “wasted;” the money flowed from me to someone else. It’s what I tell myself when I get what I think is a great deal on a airfare or a vacation rental, and my competitively savvy friends tell me of a better one they found: “‘It’s all God’s money.’ It flowed from me to BA rather than EasyJet. So be it.” And I saved time by not interminably shopping around for killer deals.

Making mistakes is part of being human; only God is all-wise. It’s important to accept our mistakes, our limited wisdom, our Pooh-of-Very-Little-Brainness and move on. I have run a small business since 2006, and notice how often people make mistakes. Our products are not the cheapest. But people buy them. Not everyone has the time or spirit or willingness to hound down the best value; I don’t myself. I am in and out of stores at the speed of light. Just as blessing comes to us because not everyone beelines for the cheapest stuff, or the best value, I am learning to offer grace to myself, and my family when other people or businesses profit from our mistakes.

* * *

A single apple seed can produce tens of thousands of apples. We observe this yearly in our small orchard. That is the normal rate of increase in creation. Jesus, it’s recorded, fed five thousand people from five loaves… each loaf multiplied a thousand times. Abundance–our thoughts, our words, our work, our investments, multiplied many times over–is the normal law of creation.

God owns the cattle on a thousand hills, the Psalmist tells us. Yet in his mercy, he only entrusts a few of these flocks to us. God’s material provision for each of us is sufficient, but not infinite. So we should try to make wise use of whatever gifts–of intellect, talent, opportunity or resources–He may have given us, but lightly. We are all limited beings, of limited intelligence, compared to the creator. So while we endeavour to use our talents and resources well, we also need to forgive ourselves, and offer ourselves grace when, through laziness, weakness, or sheer stupidity, we do not. It’s all God’s money; when I made mistakes through laziness or bad judgement, he used it to bless someone else!

And so we can let it all go, the lost or stolen handbags, wallets, phones, jewellery, the burgled cars, and houses. It’s all God’s money. God willing, those lost things were a blessing to someone else, and, mercifully, the river of God’s goodness does continue flowing, bringing to us newness, and more blessing besides.

* * *

So while we should use due diligence, and give to reputable, time-tested charities like Tearfund, we don’t need to torment ourselves about whether every cent is going to our sponsored child, or designated project, or whether it’s being lost to corruption, governmental or internal, or how wisely it’s being spent, or how effectively altruistic we are being. God uses our values, our backgrounds, our life-experiences, and the things that stir our hearts to direct each of us to support different charities. Choose the charities which resonate with your passions, pick the best ones according to your wisdom, intelligence and values, and then release the money to them. It’s all God’s money, anyway.

I love the Parable of Talents, which is incredibly true. To him who uses his “talents” well, more shall be given.

But ultimately, we are definitely not on earth to maximize our gifts and our talents, to explode our businesses, or invest our money with the Midas touch. God created the world from nothing by his mighty word. Jesus fed five thousand with two fish, drew gold coins from the mouths of other fish, and he can provide for us without all our artful schemes, dreams, and dodges.

We are not on earth to hustle, to multiply our words, our talents, and wealth through judicious application of the Protestant work ethic… because God is ace at multiplying and he can direct us to hidden wealth beneath our feet, like the Roman and Anglo-Saxon hordes of gold continually unearthed in Britain, or to herds of cattle waiting to be lassoed in an overlooked hill. We are on earth to learn to love. To love God, and other people. We are on earth to learn to be kind.

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Image: By David Rowan, Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery (Staffordshire hoard) [CC BY 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

The Things Worth Doing Badly

By Anita Mathias

A tyrannical statement we’ve heard as children, and said as exasperated parents: If a thing is worth doing, it’s worth doing well.

Which means we might never learn or do new things, for who has margin for one additional thing?

In fact, the opposite is true…anything worth doing is worth doing badly.

* * *

I discovered this while learning German over the last three years. The pace at the beginning was too fast, so I did not master the absolutely essential foundational grammar, which meant that, for the first two years, I was staggering and stumbling through lessons, which were making me sad. But I prayed about it after each year, and felt clearly, for unclear reasons, that I should continue–and now, in my third year of the six year course, I have a gifted, intelligent teacher who loves language, who speaks slowly, clearly, expressively, and, most importantly, interestingly—and, when I understand her anecdotes, I experience that flash of pure joy as when, after careening and tottering, you are off, skating on ice effortlessly, a joy that would not exist if learning had not been so hard.

When I was an undergraduate at Oxford, I remember the critic Hugh Kenner saying that there was no point in learning foreign languages since we would never learn them well enough to understand the poetry. Well, he’s wrong! It enhances travel to know enough of the language to understand the conversations around you, to communicate in, to be able to read the newspapers, absorbing a different viewpoint, and world-view. There is joy in reading, speaking, and understanding a little German, or Hindi, or French, or English to name some of my languages, or Greek, which I have a reading knowledge of. I listen to an episode of an interesting German podcast every day, Slow German, and, oddly enough, it is among the most enjoyable things in my day.

* * *

In fact, the only way we can begin to shift our lives, and to change the multiple short stories our lives are telling, is to begin doing the good things we want to do…even if badly. “Whatever you want to do or dream you can, begin it,” Goethe. Just five minutes a day of it, if necessary.

I love the Japanese strategy of Kaizen—making major life changes through infinitesimal adjustments. Want to read more. Read a little before you sleep. A little with your morning coffee. A little after dinner. See how long you take to read that book. Set a goal to finish the next book in one day less (which, with the dint of another mini reading or listening session, you can) and so on, until you are reading, say, 52 books a year, which will change your thinking, inner life, and appreciation of life. It’s better to read a little—for the magic carpet ride, interior thinking space, and quiet that it gives you than not to read at all.

* * *

After I had an evil illness, and declined chemotherapy three years ago, I read that walking four miles a day would change one’s life, and perhaps save it. Well, I almost built up to that a couple of times, but not quite. However, a short walk is better than no walk; a few yoga stretches is better than the one hour of yoga I aspire to (but never do, except in a class); lifting a few weights is not as good as the recommended 20 minutes of weights, but better than nothing. “Do not despise the day of small things.” I am not physically strong, sadly, but am committed to becoming stronger and fitter for that greatly increases my enjoyment of life.

Gardening brings me a good deal of joy, aesthetic pleasure, serenity, and thinking time, and also keeps me more flexible and limber. Every year, however, I return from our long summer holiday of two or three weeks, and find that my large garden of an acre and a half is a wilderness, and the pruning and dead-heading and weeding seems so overwhelming that I barely go out again until spring, when nature itself wants to drag you out, and then it’s so much work, and we wonder why we hadn’t put our garden to bed. I’ve decided to do a little and often rather than an hour spring and summer… and then nothing.

* * *

I would love to have a zen interior, a decluttered house, which I am closer to by dint of putting everything I don’t need in the garage, or barn, or detached study, which are now getting cluttered. It feels too soul-killing to take a whole hour to declutter, so I am doing it in tiny increments, 15 minutes a day, which doesn’t seem enough, but a whole lot better than not doing it at all. I’ve read that people hesitate to embark on minimalism because they think they’ll have to shed their most precious thing…which is a poor reason for not shedding your most junky thing.

* * *

The ultimate thing that’s worth doing badly, of course, is being a Christian, and pretty much everyone who’s not Jesus, does it imperfectly (some more imperfectly than others!)

However, it is an honour even to limp in the ways of the brilliant and astonishing Jesus. Because we think we fear doing the hardest thing for us–loving that dark, critical demanding person we find impossible; giving of our time to everyone who demands it of us–does not mean we should not continually travel towards the light, and attempt to conform our lives to Jesus’ teaching in micro-increments.

Following Christ (badly!!) has been the greatest honour and excitement of my life. When I am in a funk, when I feel confused, or angry, or out of sorts, or a teeny bit crazy, I pick up a Gospel, and read it fast, and his counter-intuitive words speak to me. Take up my cross, accept the difficulties of growth, or I am not worthy of him. The democratic life of continual prayer is open to everyone. Trust. “Don’t worry about anything at all.” Jesus’s teachings are like a diamond; there are always new glints.

I am invariably energised again by the call to follow Christ. In tiny steps, for this five minutes, this hour, this day. To think not only of myself, but of the others in my life, and of Him.

The Gospels: treasure you pick up when you are lost, a golden compass, guiding you to the right path, and since your trajectory is more important than where you are, it is better to take a few steps towards Christ, to crawl on the journey than never begin it, but drift towards the dark and hopeless regions of the Slough of Despondency, Doubting Castle, and Vanity Fair.

* * *

And HAPPY NEW YEAR, friends,

Love,

Anita

Image Credit: The wonderful Edward Knippers, on wrestling towards the light

On Living Life Single-hearted and Double-handed

By Anita Mathias

I had a fascinating conversation over a church lunch with a retired British missionary who had worked in Indonesia for 45 years. He had a boyish smile, and sparkling eyes.

At an age at which most people have two or three major subjects of conversation—their health; their children and grandchildren; or the general decay of the country, and universe–he was sprightly, talking of Skype conversations with people he is mentoring; of reading the Bible in three languages; of hosting Indonesians, and cooking them Indonesian food.

I enjoyed talking to him, and realised that loving Jesus is the best retirement plan. That to arrive at old age with a heart full of love for God, for Jesus, for the Spirit, for Scripture, and for people is the best investment.

I also realised to my shame that I had been single-handed instead of single-hearted in following Jesus. Part of me sought Jesus, and part of my heart was distracted with writing, something in which I have not been particularly successful—yet. The Chinese have a proverb, “He who chases two rabbits catches neither.” Sometimes, when you chase Jesus with one hand, and chase success with the other, God does not bless the latter to help you pursue what is important with both hands, and an undivided heart.

While work you love is certainly an excellent asset for old age, it is not as heart and soul-filling as friendship with Jesus. It does not surpass a relationship with the Father who “takes great delight in you, who quiets you with his love, who rejoices over you with singing.” (Zeph 3:17)

Talking to my new friend, I resolved again to try to be an apprentice of Jesus, to follow Him with my whole heart, to go through the narrow door into the vast starry world beyond with Jesus, and who knows, I may very well find there the other things my distracted heart had wanted.

An apprentice of Jesus, that’s what Dallas Willard calls a Christian, and that apprenticeship is both a life of excitement, and a unique path for each apprentice.

And I realised again that our greatest contribution may well be who we are, not what we do. A wise person, a good person, a person who knows God, a person with a heart full of love and kindness, whom you feel better, and course-corrected after a short conversation with—being such a person is a greater contribution to the world that anything we might do!

“The great paradox of our lives is that while we are often concerned about what we do or still can do, we are most likely to be remembered for who we were. If it was the Spirit who guided our lives, that will not die. Our doing brings success, but our being bears fruit.” Henri Nouwen

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In which I am Against (Most) Military Interventions, & Musing on Invisible Weapons of the Spirit

By Anita Mathias

My church, St. Andrew’s, Oxford, is experimenting with a café church format; a couple of worship songs, and then a brief sermon which we we discuss in small groups. Around Remembrance Day, November 11, we discussed war, and Christians in the military.

In the Sermon on the Mount (which the pacifist Anabaptists, precursors of the Amish and Mennonites considered their Bible within the Bible), Jesus makes his thoughts absolutely clear.

Do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also. And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well. If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles. I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. (Matthew 5)

So the question is “Do these words, these teachings of Jesus have any relevance in the 21^st century?”

Was Jesus smart? Was Jesus wise? Did he actually have an inside track on how to live well?

* * *

Now Christ will call some men and women who follow him into the military so that they can be salt and light, sweetness and wisdom, in that environment.

I believe however, that without a specific call, a Christ-follower should not enter the military (except in a non-combatant role, such as a chaplain or medic).

It would be wiser to choose a profession, and to steer one’s children towards professions, which are more of an unequivocal blessing to people, more likely to build up all God’s children, without the risk of having to kill your fellow human beings because your Commander-in-chief decides that this is in your nation’s interests.

A career in the military can be morally and spiritually problematic for a Christian.

You may be called to attack and bomb another nation in the course of complicated geo-politics. Your nation’s need for oil. An oilman as President. A false suspicion that the enemy nation harbours a famous terrorist or has weapons of mass destruction. The striving of your nation for pre-eminence and power might send you to fight thousands of miles away to contain another superpower. The allies of your nation might demand your nation’s cooperation in a war that’s none of your business. A democratically elected leader might declare war to distract people from the economy, or to strengthen his position for the next election.

Joining the military means you must kill and cause untold devastation to other families at the behest of the elected rulers of your country, who ordered you to for their own purposes, including holding onto power–and, besides, who knows if they are wise men or foolish.

2. Modern warfare is not clean; the use of drones causes distressing collateral damage amongst civilians.

The terrible things soldiers have seen and perhaps done leave them at far greater risk of post-traumatic stress disorder than the general population, besides risking depression, substance abuse, and suicide.

3. The long periods of separation are hard on family life, on spouses and children, and, just as hard on the soldier.

* * *

The US spends a staggering 23.9 % of the Federal Budget on Defense. (The UK, in contrast, spends 6%).

Would diverting some of the spending on the military to health, education, the arts, and scientific research leave a nation defenceless against its enemies? Or would it, oddly, make it stronger?

And on a micro-level, would doing what Jesus tells us to do put us at risk?

* * *

Interestingly, two of the most spectacular military defeats sustained by the strongest armies of their time, were not accomplished by might or power, but by exogenous events, “acts of God,” i.e. the Russian winter.

In June 1812, Napoleon invaded Russia with 650,000 soldiers to the 200,000 soldiers of the Russian army. The Russians passively retreated, abandoning Vilna, abandoning and burning Vitebsk and Smolensk, the peasants burning their crops, leaving no food for the men and horses of the Grande Armée. After a one day engagement at Borodino, they withdrew again, leaving the road open to Moscow. Which Napoleon found engulfed in flames, no food but lots of hard liquour, a city populated by the prisoners just released from the jails, while the rest of the city’s inhabitants had fled with the food.

Finally, the Grande Armée straggled back, starving, freezing, losing thousands of men and horses on icy nights, harassed by the Russians, having lost to the Russian winter, to exogenous events, to acts of God.

Ironically, this defeat was repeated by Hitler at Stalingrad in 1942, though he had studied Napoleon’s disastrous defeat. The Germans ultimately lost The Battle of Stalingrad, the largest and bloodiest battle in the history of warfare, largely because of a lack of food and fuel…that, and the Russian winter.

Or to go back 5000 thousand years, the tide of battles in the Old Testament often hinges on exogenous events…a boy handy with a slingshot killing a giant. Marching, shouting and shofars bringing down the city of Jericho. Tidal waves submerging the pursing Egyptian armies in Exodus. Torches and trumpets at night deceiving and routing the Midianite armies in the time of Gideon.

The way of might and power has its limitations. Who would have thought? The way of Spirit, the way of the creator–that works.

* * *

As Dallas Willard writes in The Divine Conspiracy, Jesus was the most brilliant person who has ever lived. He gives us the most practical, realistic, up-to-date advice on living. His way works, which is why it has remained compelling through the centuries.

If you feel as helpless faced with the giant obstacles in your life as the Russian army faced by the Grande Armée three times its size…if you take your eyes off Jesus, and see people succeed through manipulation, through flattery, through deceit, through what Wordsworth calls greetings where no kindness is–stuff you instinctively feel you cannot engage in as a follower of Jesus–be of good cheer.

Though we cannot see God with our physical eyes, though we cannot see the weapons of the spirit–like prayer and goodness and obedience–they are no less powerful than the natural forces whose presence we cannot see until they strike: the Russian winter, or what insurance companies term “acts of God,” hurricanes, earthquakes, and tsunamis.

Do the work. Trust in God. Work with integrity and gentleness. Listen to the Spirit for the strategy you need for the next step. Be aware of the way the Spirit is working in your life and in the world. Remember nothing can hinder the Lord from saving, whether by many or by few.

When you see those around you use the weapons of the world—flattery, manipulation, deceit–and win, do not be dismayed. Continue to rely on weapons of the spirit–prayer, integrity, and the wisdom and strategy that come from above. Wait for the Lord’s time, and for his blessing. The mighty walled city of Jericho brought down by marching seven times around it with trumpets. Who would have guessed?

Let faith rise.

When You Think it’s All Over, And That End is a New Beginning

By Anita Mathias

So John, beautiful, sensitive evangelist, is exiled to Patmos, a Roman penal colony, by the Emperor Diocletian.

It’s all over for him. He who had been one of the three with Jesus at every climactic moment of his ministry; who had leaned on Jesus at the Last Supper feeling the physical and verbal beat of his heart; who stood by Jesus at the Cross, seeing the heart of the Gospel; who intuitively saw the connection between the Old and New Covenants, beginning his Gospel echoing Genesis, In the Beginning was the Word.

Oh, he’s done for.

Here he is on barren Patmos, the sun scorching him by day, and the moon by night, the few springs hard to find.

It’s all over, John. You had been commanded to go into all the world, and preach the Gospel to all creation.

But here you are, alone on Patmos.

You who once wrote with the pen of an angel—you have recorded your memories of Jesus.

Nothing new is happening. What are you to write?

* * *

Meanwhile, The Roman Empire rushes on in its empirely way, and the Christian Church flourishes underground, getting stronger in its paradoxical way. And John: alone, forgotten.

Silent.

He who has learned so much, and has so much to teach has no platform; no readers, no listeners, nothing…

* * *

It’s apparently all over for you, John…

Except for that one thing that still can happen to the one exiled to Patmos, who feels that all his life has been a failure, and that life is almost over

One thing no one can rule out: not the exile, or the prisoner, or the solitary.

GOD.

God spoke to you.

* * *

The Word of God.

The Presence of God.

It changed everything for John.

He hears a loud voice like a trumpet, and turns around to see a man whose eyes were like blazing fire. His voice was like the sound of rushing waters. And from his mouth a sharp, double-edged sword. His face was like the sun shining in all its brilliance (Revelation 1: 10-16).

And Jesus said

“Do not be afraid. I am the First and the Last. I am the Living One; I was dead, and now look: I am alive for ever and ever!”

Do not be afraid, oh hidden one, for you are hidden in me. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the A and the Z, and within this alphabet, all words are possible, all things are possible.

I was dead, dead as you fear your future is, dread as you fear your hopes, your work and your influence are. But now I am alive.

And in me, all the crushed, hidden, suppressed things in you shall come alive too.

In me, your future is bright and full of possibility.

“Write, therefore, what you have seen, in a book.”

And at his word, John begun a new chapter of his life, writing… Words of comfort and revelation for seven churches and twentyone centuries.

* * *

Diocletian exiled you to Patmos, John but Diocletian was not writing the story of your life, though he may have thought he was. He was but a pawn in the Grandmaster’s good plot for your life.

You were exiled to barren Patmos out of fear and malice and the desire to control and neutralize you.

But that was exactly the plot Jesus permitted, to get you out of the way of ministry; out of the way of teaching; out of the way of adulation and followers and rapt listeners; out of the way of Simon who would buy your power, and James and Peter who might wonder who was the greatest.

This barren island, where no one wants to hear from you, no one wants to speak to you, where is there nothing to do and no voice to listen to but Christ’s, this place which seems an insane location for the man who knew Jesus better than any man did, the beloved disciple, for heaven’s sake, who could tell all the world about him– why would Jesus permit you, John, to be in Patmos?

Because you did have more to write, as it happened, and he had to get you quiet to hear his words, away from teaching or ministry or church planting, or trouble with the Romans, or trouble with the Jews, away from it all, away from the important necessary work of building a church that would be the hope of the world, to do something even more important.

To choose the better path.

To hear what the man with eyes like fire and a voice like the sound of running waters said, and to write it down in book.

* * *

Oh reader, does your life feel becalmed? As if all your bright dreams have come to nothing? Does the Empire run on without you, both the Kingdom of the World, and the Kingdom of Christ, while you are forgotten in Patmos.

You are not alone. He who sits upon the throne walks unseen beside you.

Your future is bright, for he who is light itself can turn your trajectory around in a moment.

For every seismic change begins within.

And while He chooses to let you stay exactly where you are in your dark season, he who is light itself will be for you light in the darkness.

* * *

Oh you who feel the sting of failure, do you know that being beaten and coming to the end of yourself are powerful things? Closed doors force you to look for the door that Jesus will open and no one can shut.

Oh you who are well and truly defeated in what you set out to do, you who are well and truly out of energy, be of good cheer. You will now be forced to rely on a power beyond yourself for sustainable strategies…and this I know, his strategies will beat yours, any day, every way.

When everything seems to have ended, a new chapter can begin when you see the face of Jesus and hear the word of God to you. A new chapter will begin when you learn to work with the power of the Holy Spirit.

Be not afraid.

* * *

So you who are on Patmos, what do you do?

First of all, surrender the rest of your life to Jesus. Open your hands, and pour all the dreams and ambitions in them into his hands. Pour your health and your talents, your money and your resources, or the lack of them, all the things you have going for you, all the things you do NOT have going for you, into his hands

Do not dream of beginning a new chapter, a new project, a new enterprise without his direction.

Is your life too quiet? Do not fight the quietness. Do not seek to make things noisier unless he tells you to.

Are you unknown, and unrecognised; are your words dormant within you? Ask him to give your words wings, to bring them to all those who will be blessed by them. Hand your career over to him as clay, asking him to fashion something beautiful, something lasting with it.

Train yourself to act not by might or by power, not by force or manipulation, but by God’s spirit. Ask God to teach you to act with the power of the Holy Spirit.

When you think it’s all over, and you think you’ve failed, and are on a downward spiral, too old to do anything new, beautiful or important, get quiet on your Patmos, for as many days or weeks as it takes, until the noise of the outer world blows away.

Get quiet, beloved failure; listen hard for the one with blazing eyes, with a voice like a trumpet.

The answer may come immediately, or in the ten days it took the prophet Jeremiah to hear the word of the Lord. Or longer.

Then do what he tells you.

It may be that when everything is lost, he will speak, he will whisper, whisper softly in your ear. Stage directions that you really need to hear.

And all your past will be an insignificant chapter compared to the great chapters he is now going to write in your life, you and he together.

And all the words you have written will fade into insignificance compared to the words you will write, as he whispers softly in your ear.

He saves the best for last.

And if he says so, “write everything you have seen in a book.” (Revelation 1:11)

* * *

Tweetables

When you feel everything is dead, lost & over, but God suggests a new beginning. From @anitamathias1

As we listen to God, the trajectory of our lives can turn around in a moment. From @anitamathias1

When everything seems to have ended, a new chapter can begin when you hear the word of God to you. From @anitamathias1

Within the Alpha and the Omega, all words & all things are possible. From @anitamathias1

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On Being Christian with a small c or a big C

By Anita Mathias

Image Credit

Our family was discussing a writer who has done paradigm-breaking innovative work.

“Is she a Christian?” my daughter Irene asked.

“Yes. She’s a Christian. With a small C, I’d guess.”

“What’s that?” Irene asked.

“Hmm… Someone who goes to church, more or less respects Jesus and the Bible, but who does not see the existence of God, and the coming of Christ as the central axis on which their life spins.”

Irene: “Are you a Christian with a small c or a big C?”

Me, “Oh, I am hopelessly Christian. Christian with a Big C.”

Zoe adds, “Except you do not go to church.”

We all laugh.

* * *

This is slander, dear readers; I do go to church. But these splendid summer days often find me exhausted by 5.30 p.m. when it’s time to leave to church, and so I, on occasion, worship God by a long solitary walk through the fields around our house, or a nap, or gardening, or even quietly praying in the empty house.

Having grown up Catholic, there is glorious freedom in being able to skip church without guilt. I, however, truly believe in the value of Christian fellowship and in belonging to an excellent church; I frequently come back from services at our church, St. Andrew’s, Oxford, with peace in my heart, and a smile on my lips. However, a key life verse since my twenties has been “In repentance and in rest, you shall be saved. In quietness and in confidence shall be your strength”(Is 30:15). So when I am tired, I try not to push, not even spiritually.

We talked about the writer’s brilliant book, Daring Greatly which I loved. It is about understanding and developing the self, and about bravery. Saying it’s about being your best self sounds too pop-culturish, but that’s one way of summarizing it. It is an excellent book, just not a Christian book, particularly: it isn’t one that Jesus would have written. Jesus would have said that we find our best selves in losing ourselves, in serving, in washing feet.

Oh Jesus! You do complicate a girl’s life, don’t you? I would be Christian with a small c if I could, but you have stretched my mind and spirit to a new dimension, and so I have to follow you, slow step by step.

Why I have Decided to Follow Jesus

By Anita Mathias

As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew. They were casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. “Come, follow me,” Jesus said, “and I will make you fishers of men.” At once they left their nets and followed him. (Matthew 4 18-20)

“Come follow me, Anita?”

Yes, I will follow you, because life feels pointless without you.

I will follow you because the world without you—it doesn’t hack it: much labour for things which will not satisfy–without you

I will follow you because I am weary of myself. I want to lose myself in you. In that loss, I feel safe.

I will follow you because I don’t know how to do life. But your version of a God-bathed world, held safe in your Father’s hands, which the meek will inherit, I love it! I believe in it.

I will follow you because in worshipping you is my soul complete.

I will follow you because in you I find love, vast as the ocean.

I will follow you because of your goodness that flows like a waterfall towards me. I need but to kneel and receive.

I will follow you because (sorry, this is silly!) nothing makes me as hyper as your words, and the bubbly Holy Spirit you released through your death. In them is rest for my restlessness.

I will follow you because you promise complete joy. You are the narrow gate which leads to life. I will shrug off all that impedes me so I can enter through it.

* * *

I will follow you because no one ever spoke as you did.

I will follow you, because you are so clever. I love the way you got out of all those tricks and traps—taxes to Caesar and stoning that woman and dividing inheritances–with your cool, collected intellect. You instinctively think outside the box, you clever person. And if I follow you, you will teach me wisdom and to stay cool and calm under pressure. (And forgive, now, this selfish motivation).

Yes, I will follow you because you are brilliant. I love thinking about those wild things you said. “Take the lower place; turn the other cheek; the meek inherit the earth; don’t resist an evil person; give and you shall receive.” I love how obeying them, even in baby steps, turns my life upside down.

I will follow you because I know I will never “get” you fully. You will come to me with fresh challenges as long as I live, drawing me upward and onward. I’ll wrestle with your words till I die. Those Beatitudes! The Sermon on the Mount! A whole life’s worth of meditation and challenge.

I will follow you because you are the Word, and I am a writer. And so you will give me the words I need to speak, and protect me from words I do not need to speak.

I will follow you because He who drinks of the waters you give him will never thirst, but rivers of living water will flow from him. What writer would not want rivers of living water to flow from her?

* * *

I will follow you because you are spectacular. The way you cared for everyone you encountered as you gasped your way through the excruciating crucifixion—Wow, Jesus!

I will follow you because learning to love is important, and you know how, and you will teach me.

I will follow you because you are magnetic. You are good, and you are kind. Nothing else in my world compels me as you do.

I will follow you because you are the Living Bread which came down from heaven. If I eat you, I will not hunger, and so in you is the solution to my food issues and addictions.

I will follow you because, well, what else could I follow? Ambition will exhaust me. Mastery of a craft will not satisfy my heart. Money? I earn enough for my simple-ish tastes.

I will follow you, because as C. S. Lewis said, what you say is so outrageous, it’s either completely nuts. Or true. And to me, it tastes of truth. You are the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

I will follow you, just because…I love you.

In Which Jesus Gives Us A New Name And A New Character

By Anita Mathias

To the one who is victorious, I will also give a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to the one who receives it. Revelation 2:17

And so, we heave up our cross,

And follow him,

Oh, not spectacularly at all.

Dropping it,

Meandering off course,

Sometimes forgetting we had resolved

To take up our cross,

And follow him.

But each time we remember,

We apologize,

And pick up that old rugged cross,

And follow after Jesus again.

And Jesus sees.

For that is one of his names,

El Roi, the God who sees.

Where others see our failures

Jesus sees also,

How much further we would have slipped

Had we not clung to him

* * *

And somehow through the decades,

We change.

We are different.
Though still so acutely aware of,

So sad about our failures.

* * *

And then one day,

We meet him,

And he gently opens our palms

And places in them a stone

With our new names.

And I read, tearfully:

The prudent one

The discreet one

The wise one

The self-controlled one

The kind one

The diligent one

The consistent and persevering one

The financially gifted one

And I say, “Jesus!

I think you’ve given me someone else’s stone.”

And he says,

“Though decades of following me,

Though you did not notice it,

You’ve changed.”

“But I always saw what you would become.

Welcome home!”