From Mourners to Missionaries. Mark 15. 40- 16. 20

The Mourners - When Jesus was crucified, people were thrown into a valley of grief and mourning.  The eleven disciples who had followed him and learned from him for three years; they were just wrecked. They were out of it, unable to get involved.  Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of James and Joseph and Salome.  They had followed Jesus too, and looked after him.  Then there was Joseph of Arimathea, well-to-do, confident, pushed into the place where he had to take a stand; he asked Pilate for the body of Jesus and provided the means to give him a decent burial.  Then three days later, after the Sabbath (which limited people's movements and stopped unnecessary "work") the women went to put spices on the grave. Mournfully, sadly, maybe a wee bit contemptuously towards the eleven, they were asking each other how they were going to get in there to do the job they came to do.  Then they realised there was no problem: they encountered the angels who told them that Jesus had risen, and sent them to tell the lads.

But here's a puzzle.  "But they said nothing, for they were afraid."  How on earth could they keep silent about something like that?   They were mourners, grief stricken.  They had lost Jesus, their friend, the Person the loved and respected more than any other.  Grief can put our normal thought processes into reverse, blinding us to the obvious blessings... And they were not just mourners: they were super-mourners!  

Grieving the end of hope -  Looking at the burial of Jesus for a moment, and about those hanging around. Who were they? There was Joseph of Arimathea, a member of the Council, a prominent, confident, educated sort of guy.  He had read his Bible and understood about the promises of Messiah coming.  Joseph had an expectation of the kingdom based on years spent soaking in the world of God.  The Kingdom of God is His authority over everything the enemy does to destroy God's wonderful creation.  There was Mary, from whom (v9) Jesus had driven out seven demons. Mary had an expectation of the Kingdom, based on a personal and direct intervention by Jesus in her own life. Part of Satan's army of unclean spirits had camped out in her personality, and Jesus had driven them out.  That was God's Kingdom at work in her life.  She had experienced God's Kingdom.  The eleven had seen him heal the sick, drive out demons; feed the crowds; they had even joined in some of these things themselves.  Just imagine how gutted, how shocked and surprised they would be to have experienced this loss.  From Joseph's Biblical perspective; from Mary's and the eleven's experience perspective, life had stopped making sense, when Jesus died.  No wonder now an empty tomb and angels claiming that Jesus was alive, just filled the women with terror.  No wonder the eleven couldn't accept the first garbled reports of something having happened to the body of Jesus, of people having seen him.  The women said nothing, for they were afraid, because of the sheer enormity and outrageousness of the grief and shock of seeing Jesus, and the hope of this Kingdom, nailed on the cross. A resurrection was too much to hope for.  They feared they were losing their minds. For they were afraid.

Encounter -  The story doesn't stop there.  I don't know why "the best manuscripts" don't have verses 9-19.  But I don't believe Mark intended his Gospel to end at verse 8. All of the other Gospels including John, include records not only of the empty tomb but of Encounters with Jesus... without something after verse 8, Mark's gospel finishes dare I say it completely inadequately and with a different kind of Christianity from that of the rest of the Gospels: a second-hand faith; an evidence based, reasoned faith without the benefit of personal experience.  And sadly, that is where very many of us are.  We've accepted what the angels say; we've accepted what the bible says; we've accepted what other people testify about Jesus Christ.  But we are not able to do anything very much about it.  The reason is we have a second hand faith, instead of an encounter.

Mary met with Jesus.  And having done so, she was then able to go to them and tell them "I have seen Jesus".  A much better testimony than "I have seen an angel who told me the tomb was empty....  Sure that was part of her journey.  Sure those she went to and told about the empty tomb might be encouraged to go to the tomb and see for themselves.   But having met with Jesus, she really had something to go and tell the others...

And it was only when they met with Jesus that they were able themselves to take it in.  And, yes, he gave them a bit of a telling off for their hardness of heart.  It's important to believe without seeing.  But it's also important that we have our live encounter with Jesus. Otherwise our "evangelism" is weakened, because we are telling people a second or third-hand message, a piece of history to be accepted from a book, a doctrine to be assented to. 

The Mission - Jesus has something for the eleven to do, and for Mary, for Joseph or Arimathea, and for you and me: see verses 15-18.  The Mission was
* Declaration to tell every creature, or all of creation (v 15) - this is a universal message: it's not for a select few who can fit in with our way of doing Church here in Rosyth: think of the people who are your neighbours.  The Good News of Jesus is for those people too.  

* Discipleship: to demand a response of belief publicly shown by being baptised.   This is demanding discipleship: it separates people into those who have said "Yes" to it and those who have said "No" to it.  A few weeks ago I said that if you're not ready to walk to the front of the Church you're not ready to follow Jesus.  Well, that was a harsh way of putting it, one that is prejudiced in favour of the extraverts, and I apologise.  But I don't apologise for saying that when we come to follow Jesus, we are not just buying into some product to make our lives better: we are surrendering these lives to their rightful owner. 
* Demonstration: to demonstrate the Kingdom by signs following the preached word (v 17-18).  In Mark these signs include the exercise: of Spiritual authority (driving our demons); gifts of utterance (tongues, but there are many more); and gifts of power (snake-handling and poison-drinking are practised in some rural American Churches but the real point is the healing of the sick.) And guess what, whether healing comes by a miracle or through a Christian taking medicine and food to a flooded village, it still demonstrates the Kingdom.

The hopeful - In the context of life after the ascension - when Jesus' visible, physical presence is withdrawn (v. 19) - the disciples go out with the Good News.  They are doing the stuff, preaching the Good News; and ministering with faith to demonstrate the Kingdom. And "The Lord worked with them"... the Jesus who had ascended, sent his Spirit, whose power enabled them to demonstrate the Kingdom.  We too are called to be doing the stuff post ascension through the ongoing encounter of the Spirit. Life with Jesus becomes life in the Spirit. Mary, Peter, James, John, Joseph of Arimathea, you and me; we are all called to move from being mourners to being missionaries.

Mark 15:24-47 The Cross from the resurrection perspective (15 August 2010)

Mark 15:24-47 The Cross from the resurrection perspective

Let's imagine Mark sitting down to write his "Good News"... it can't have been easy, thinking back to that horrible night; recalling his own failure and Peter's; but he's also thinking of the people who are going to read his story or have it read to them; he's thinking of his own - and Peter's - experience of Jesus ... because he writes knowing about the resurrection, to people who knew about the resurrection. Although it's painful to recall it and write it all down, it's important that he does.  Too often we can become dulled to the realities of the Crucifixion, because we believe in the resurrection. We see the Cross through the resurrection, and somehow that is our wine mixed with myrrh; it is our way of dulling the pain.  We separate ourselves from it and it can all become a bit mawkish and sentimental.  `And we Scottish Baptists, who believe in the Cross, the resurrection, and the authority of the Bible, and the necessity of a sacrifice for sins, can sometimes treat the Cross a in a way that is a bit too matter-of-fact.  It happened.  That is how much God loves us.  He sent Jesus to die for our sins. But don't worry, he rose again! It was easy!

Mark doesn't do that.  He writes the story of the cross knowing about the resurrection, but to see the cross through the resurrection isn't to cheapen the sacrifice or lessen the pain involved. Mark doesn't spare us the details of the pain, the ugliness and incongruity of the whole event... The narrative is meant to grate, to irritate, to shake us out of our indifference, and over-familiarity.  Do you know what I mean by the idea of "The Elephant in the room"? There's something seriously wrong, seriously out of place; but nobody is talking about it.  Mark knows, as he writes this section, that there's an elephant in the room. 

And it begins with this outrage of efficiency and routine.  The soldiers are simply finishing the job they have been given to do... crucify the condemned man. That meant, nail him to the cross, and hoist the cross upright, wedge it into its hole in the ground.  Job done. Then they sit down and start to share the condemned man's personal effects: perk of the job.  Two other things are noted, just as facts: the charge sheet, nailed over Jesus' Cross, says "King of the Jews."  And two other men - robbers both - are crucified along with Jesus.  Job done.   We're meant to think "There's something wrong here. It shouldn't be happening this way. Maybe the commanding officer is thinking "There's something wrong here"...

Jesus is "numbered with the transgressors". There's something wrong here. It's the Elephant in the room.  Numbered with people who have done wrong.  A good man, an innocent man (as Pilate the governor admitted) condemned to death and hung out to die like a common bandit or rebel.  But that is why he came. He died in our place; our death; our consequences for our sins.

And, as Jesus hangs there, people come along, and add to the occasion by shouting insults up at Jesus...  They're shaking their heads and yelling, "You said you'd tear the temple down and rebuild it, well, if you're so powerful, save yourself now!"  Some of the chief priests came to Skull Hill to see that the thing was done; and they lend their more refined accents, loud enough for Jesus to hear, but addressed to the crowds, "He saved others, supposedly: well, he can't save himself; let this so-called Messiah come down from the Cross, then we'll all flock to believe him."  There's something wrong here. This shouldn't be happening.   Insult added to injury. The lovely Son of God, pinned to a cross. Maybe some of his friends thought, hoped against hope, that at some point he would shake himself free, call on the angels to help, and turn the tables on the Romans. 

And then... Darkness. For three hours, there is eclipse-like phenomenon (although an eclipse can last 71/2 minutes at the most! so this was something more signifcant); Jew and Roman alike would experience a chilling sense of anxiety; maybe even fear and panic ... The elephant in the room won't be ignored for ever.  The created order itself is letting it be known that something of cosmic significance is taking place as this Carpenter from Nazareth hangs on a Roman cross on the outskirts of Jerusalem.  Skull Hill becomes one of those "thin places" where the physical and the spiritual realms are palpably close to each ... where the very creation reflects something in the unseen spiritual world.  Darkness...

And Jesus feels the spiritual darkness acutely. "My God, why have you abandoned me?  Father, where are you? What's going on?  Don't you care about me any more? Why are you not there for me right now?  This hurts so much!  Not just the nails, but the nauseating, revolting feel of sin, unclean-ness clinging to me, and it's not mine. I want to hear you call me you Beloved Son now, Father, and you're not there for me, you've turned your face away." Satan had him for that moment. Whatever Satan could do to a sinner in hell, he did to Jesus.  There's something wrong here. This shouldn't be happening. Separation from the Father, being abandoned into the hands of the tormentor is surely for sinners, not the Son of God.  In these seconds the One God was momentarily torn apart. It's unthinkable. And yet it happened.  He took our place. 

Even then, people didn't' understand: "He's calling on Elijah!  Give him a drink, keep him alive, maybe something will happen, Elijah will come!"  It's a warning against cheap and easy interpretations of the Cross. 

But with a shout he breathed his last. Death had him.  It was over.  Finished. (That, according to John 19.30 was what Jesus shouted out at the last.)  But it's not defeat, it's victory.  And the evidence?  The earth shakes; the curtain of the temple, the symbol of separation between God and man, is torn from top to bottom, from Heaven to earth. The awful darkness begins to lift.   

And the darkness begins to lift for at least one soldier.  The tough NCO who's been supervising the execution, watching and waiting until he can sign the three executions off as completed, says, "Surely this man was the son of God." Now that's something.  Seeing the way Jesus died, observing the physical and emotional realities of Jesus death, convinces the centurion: "This was no ordinary man. This was not a common crook. Surely he was the son of God."  Now there was plenty the guy didn't understand. He didn't understand about the incarnation, the trinity or the atonement, about Jesus being God, and being our sacrifice. But he did see something different, something new, and something true (if incomplete)  "There was something about that guy; He must have been the Son of God."  Isn't that a victory?  In the middle of the darkness and disaster and despair of the crucifixion, one man, a Roman, an outsider at that, walks away thinking positive things about Jesus.  Isaiah 53. 11 in the Amplified Bible says, "He shall see [the fruit] of the travail of His soul and be satisfied."  What Jesus died for, the very reason why he became flesh, and went to the Cross - to take away the sin of the world -  begins to bear fruit right there on Skull Hill, and that fruit is Roman fruit, foreign fruit, mission fruit, world fruit.

So, we can look at the death of Jesus, through the lens of the resurrection.  To do that, doesn't in the least diminish the reality of pain and anguish of the Cross.  Quite the opposite. But it deepens our understanding of the Cross.  We too often speak in glib, cheap and easy terms about "Jesus dying to pay for all our sins; Jesus taking our place..."  Now, I believe, with all of my heart, that Jesus died for our sins, took our place."  If we haven't accepted that, we haven't got the point. But unless we understand that, on the cross, a cosmic battle was going on, something too profound and deep for words, and unless we realise that Jesus won that battle, then we haven't got it either.  We're left with a trivial, shallow understanding of sin, a spiteful, angry God, and an incomplete picture of the immensity of what happened on the Cross. Sin wrecked the entire created order. Nothing's right because everything is out of kilter with its creator.  The cross wasn't just the payment of a fine, the bearing of a punishment; it was a cosmic rescue mission.  It doesn't just satisfy God's justice, it defeats God's enemy and restores God's Kingdom.  And it reveals God's Son, Jesus in his true glory!

Amen?

© Gilmour Lilly August 2010

Decision Time: Mark 15. 1-23 (Sunday 1 August 2010)

You know, I used to be indecisive…I used to be, but I’m not so sure about that any more. In Chapter 15 it’s decision time…

It’s decision time, not surprisingly for the Priests, elders, scribes and Council. They have had their consultation together; now all their actions tell us they had reached a decision. They wanted to get rid of Jesus. So they bind Jesus and take him to Pilate, the Roman Governor. The charge they bring against Jesus is “He’s set himself up to be King of the Jews.” That’s the first questing Pilate asks Jesus: “Well, are you the King of the Jews?” And they are piling one accusation on top of another. They want to get rid of Jesus. When it looks as if Pilate might try and find out what the crowds think, they get in amongst the crowd, shouting and stirring up support of Barabbas instead of Jesus. They have made their decision. “Don’t confuse me with facts: my mind is made up.” That might have been their motto. They were decisive, determined; their minds were closed.


And it was decision time for Pontius Pilate, the governor. HE is obviously a bit surprised by this Galilean preacher who has been brought before him. “Are you the King of the Jews? You don’t look much like a King! Are you the King of the Jews? It’s Jews who have brought you here in chains. Listen to all the things they are saying about you. Don’t you want to defend yourself? Have you really nothing to say? You’re obviously not one of these agitators: what am I to do with you?” The crowd are shouting; they want him to release a prisoner, as it’s their Jewish Passover. So Pilate tries to get the crowd to make the decision. “Who do you want me to release for you? Jesus, your King, or Barabbas the trouble-maker?” It’s then that the leading Jews get in among the crowds and stir up the cry “release Barabbas.” And Pilate thinks maybe he could be extra kind and release two prisoners this year. So he asks “What about Jesus?” But the crowd, stirred up by the Priests, shout back “ Crucify Jesus!” It’s decision time for Pilate. But Pilate doesn’t want to make the decision. Jesus’ innocence is staring him in the face. Even his wife has a warning in a dream about Jesus being an innocent man. He wants to let Jesus go, almost pleading with the Council, “Why do you want him crucified? What crime has he committed?” He knows the decision he should make. He just makes the opposite one. “So Pilate, wishing to satisfy the crowd, released for them Barabbas, and having scourged Jesus, he delivered him to be crucified.” (Mk 15.15) Perhaps never had any man or woman agonized so much over a decision; few people must have had less peace over a decision than Pontius Pilate had over the decision to put Jesus to death. His “Decision” was a complete abdication of responsibility. It was one based on convenience, on expediency, on pleasing people; it was a decision for personal survival, without regard for the truth.


So the soldiers had their turn with Jesus. And they had their decision time. But their decision is easy: they just need to obey orders. So they fall to the routine involved in an execution: firstly, the ritual humiliation: as the charge against Jesus is “being King of the Jews” they dress him up in purple – probably in fact an old scarlet military cloak faded and stained to a purple colour but it would look the part. What about a laurel crown? So they hack some twigs from a thorn bush growing in some corner, and twist it into a crown. And he’ll need a sceptre, so they give him a reed; then they take it away again and hit him with it, and challenge him: “prophesy, prophet, who was it that time, eh?” Then they are bowing and scraping, and mocking him “Hail, King of the Jews” and spiting on him. Humiliating the condemned prisoner was part of the job, just something that happened in the course of an execution: a bit of working on their own initiative, a bit of creative license, eased the tension of the occasion. They are just doing their jobs. And when the mockery is over, they do what they always did, and tie the crossbar onto the prisoner’s shoulders. Only this time, the prisoner is so weak, that he can’t carry it very far. So at the point of a spear, they force one of the passers by to carry it. His name is Simon from Cyrene. The soldiers were decisive enough, in putting their brains into neutral, and doing the job they were trained and paid to do. It’s easy to be decisive if you don’t think too hard.


And it is decision time for Jesus… Pilate knows he is innocent. Some in the crowd have seen him do amazing miracles. So. does he have to go to the cross? But as the Priests are piling in their accusations, much to Pilate’s surprise, Jesus chooses to remain silent. He says nothing, because he has chosen this way. He is going to go to the Cross, he has made his decision. Like Isaiah prophesied (Isa 53:7 “ Like a lamb about to be slaughtered, like a sheep about to be sheared, he never said a word.”) And as the soldiers get the nails and mallets ready, they offer him drugged wine. But Jesus refuses it. Another decision. He refused to drink what the soldiers offered him, so as to avoid nothing of the cup, which his Father had given him. He chose the cross, and he chose it wholeheartedly. He chose not to escape from it. He rejected the opportunity to defend himself. He rejected the opportunity even to dull he pain.

This was Jesus’ decision. The only the only real decision in the whole place, made by the only one with any dignity, the only one still in control, though utterly powerless. Let’s be quite clear, what Jesus went through on the cross was no mirage of suffering. It was no small thing. From Gethsemane where he sweat drops of blood, to standing before the Council and Pilate, to the lashings, the humiliation, this was gritty, grinding suffering of the deepest sort. It was so bad for Jesus he couldn’t even carry his own cross, because of “the unique character of his sufferings.” The weakness of Jesus contrasts with the “effortless superiority” of an idealistic hero. In Superman 2, Clark Kent gives himself away to Lois Lane, when he picks her hairbrush up from the fire without being burned. But Jesus wasn’t lik that. This was the real Jesus in real suffering. Calvin says, “These matters call for secret meditation rather than for the ornament of words.”


So, “I used to be indecisive… but in the light of Jesus and the choices he made, I can’t be.” It’s decision time. I don’t mean the choice we had to make at teatime yesterday: “Pizza or fish and chips.” The choices Jesus made, challenge us to do two things: the Bible calls them repentance and faith. We have two choices to make. “Who’s in charge? And what do I depend on?” Whether or not to seek God’s kingdom; whether or not to live in the good of what Jesus has done for me.

The Council, Pilate, the soldiers, decided not to let God be in charge, not to depend on God’s grace. Mark tells us that Simon of Cyrene was the father of Rufus and Alexander. (He expected his readers to recognize the names, so possibly all three were part of the Church!) He hints that hints that Simon or his family, like Joseph of Arimathea yes to repentance and faith.

If you don’t know Jesus personally, you can make the decision today to let God be in charge, and to depend utterly on him, and God will make you a brand new person. And if you’re struggling with something in your Christian life, the same decision lies before you: Who is in charge? And who do you depend on? Are you going to seek God’s Kingdom? Are you going to live in the good of what he ash done for you?

Last week I had to make a choice. I rediscovered an old book called Power in Praise by Merlin Carrothers and as I read it I knew I had to choose between living my life as an old grumbler who’s always complaining about one thing and another; or living my life in a flow of thankfulness and praise. Actually, it’s not much of a choice. It’s life or death. It’s like “Turkeys, hands up all those who vote for Christmas.” Who’s in charge? Who are you depending on?

The funny thing is that when you make your choice for Jesus, you find you are simply agreeing with the choice he has already made, when he went to to the Cross.

© Gilmour Lilly August 2010

The Mission Telescope - Sunday 8th August

It starts with a microscope. The first telescope was basically a paper tube with a magnifying glass at one end and another lens at the other end. When we look at the Church in Antioch that sent Barnabas and Saul out on mission, we find that the process started with what was happening closer to home. See Acts 11. 19-21 They took a magnifying glass and looked at themselves and their own community. Someone had come to them and told them the Good News of Jesus. Someone had crossed deserts and rivers, to reach them. Someone had gone out of their comfort zone, done the unthinkable and offered the Good News to Gentiles as well as to Jews, and a number of gentiles as well as Jews had come to know Jesus. Too often when we hear that said, we don’t take it in. It was a hugely costly and uncomfortable thing for a Jew to invite a non-Jew to become a brother in Christ. Jews weren’t even supposed to marry non-Jews. They weren’t supposed to eat with them; Romans ate disgusting things like pork sausages and rabbits, which the Jews believed to be unclean. But if a non-Jew became a believer, he would expect to break bread with his Jewish Christian brothers and sisters. Maybe it would be all right of all the non-Jews got circumcised, and became Jewish… can you see the problems that mission in Antioch opened up?

The Church in Antioch was a missionary Church. It was wrestling with the real problems of real mission in their own community. In order for us to use the mission telescope, we need to start with the magnifying glass: we need to think about how someone left their comfort zone to tell us the good news. I think of Jim Meiklejohn, a Church of Scotland minister and Biblical scholar who until quite an old man who gave his life to making sure that teenagers could hear the gospel in ways they could understand. And we think about the bridges we need to cross to give the Good News to our community: what about the Indian people who keep the corner shop? What about the young girl two doors down who’s a single parent? The first thing in using the Mission Telescope, is to engage with cross-cultural mission locally.

It is the work of the Spirit. So the cross-cultural, missionary Church was at prayer; there were people with spiritual gifts: prophets and teachers. God gives gifts and has never stopped giving gifts; but those gifts are not just toys to be played with; they are tools to be used in real mission situations. The Spirit will never be inconsistent with himself: he will always reveal the character of Jesus. He will always have a missionary agenda. So out of the quietness and rest of a group of spiritually gifted people worshipping and fasting, the Holy Spirit spoke: “Set aside Barnabas and Saul for the work I have for them.” We need to give space for God to speak. And when we do, we find that mission is on God’s heart. Wherever the Holy Spirit is seen in Acts, he is prompting and prodding God’s people outwards: on the day of Pentecost, the disciples spoke in tongues: that is, they spoke supernaturally in the languages of the people who were milling about in the streets below them; and then, they rushed downstairs, and out into those streets. At every turn, the Spirit was prompting the Church to go out: to Samaria, to Roman officer called Cornelius, then when persecution started, to Syria and Cyprus… Cross-cultural mission is the agenda of the Spirit. He is the Missionary Spirit.

The Mission Telescope, that looks to distant places, is the handiwork of the Holy Spirit of God. To use the Mission Telescope, then, secondly is to engage with the Missionary God. To spend time in prayer and worship isn’t a waste of time. It isn’t a substitute for action: it’s the springboard for action. We don’t rest from our work. We work from our rest. If you hang about with Jesus, it wont’ be long before you find he is making you a fisher of men. Engage with local mission. Engage with the Cross-cultural Missionary God.

It extends your reach. I must thank Martin Robinson and Dwight Smith for the "Mission Telescope" idea. In their book "Invading Secular Space" they are particularly thinking about the traditional telescope's ability to expand and collapse. The Mission Telescope meant that the Antioch Church had a ministry in Cyprus, the other Antioch (Pisidian Antioch) and in the hills in central Turkey. As Barnabas and Saul’s sending church they had a stake in the work in Turkey.

Acts 14. 25-28. Paul and Barnabas remain part of Antioch and return there from their journey and spend a long time there, reporting back, building up the church. And what they had experienced in Asia Minor had a permanent effect: Antioch got a reputation as the church with the gentiles in it. So (Acts 15. 1-4) when some people come down from Jerusalem claiming that the only real Christian in a Jewish Christian – telling everyone they should be circumcised – the Antioch Church is affected. It has an interest not only for the sake of their own non-Jewish members but also for the ministry of Barnabas and Saul. It is this sense of belonging, of participation that adds urgency to the circumcision question for the Church in Antioch. The mission was not just Saul and Barnabas’ mission: it was their mission. To use the Mission Telescope means to engage with cross-cultural mission globally.

It’s possible to use a telescope the wrong way round. What happens? Instead of becoming nearer, the thing you are looking at seems further away. There’s a temptation to think that once we have sent people off, that’s our bit for overseas mission done and dusted. We’ve let people go, written a cheque, promised to pray and then we can forget about them for four years. So, instead of making the mission field nearer, it’s actually further away: out of sight, out of mind. We have to use the Mission Telescope the right way and engage with cross-cultural mission globally: I think there are four ways we can do that:
1. Give. As Churches we support Andrew and Maria: are we doing all that God is calling us to do in hat respect?
2. Write. A people person (and evangelist usually are) likes to have contact with people, and is interested in what is going on in people’s lives and in the home Church. A wee note letting Andrew and Maria know how you are doing, will be appreciated: and remember: there’s only two of them and dozens of us so they can’t respond personally to every letter. They will tell you what is and isn’t appropriate to put in a letter.
3. Pray. They pray for us, and we should pray for them. Our prayers should be:
a. Informed. Read the prayer letters Andrew and Maria send home, and use the pointers they provide.
b. Imaginative. Try to think yourself into their situation. What will they be feeling as they fly off next weekend.
c. Biblical. Pray God’s word for them. Lay claim to what is promised in Scripture.
d. Spirit-led. Listen to God and let the Holy Spirit lead your prayers (Romans 8. 26)
4. Do… We collect ring-pulls for people in the dumps in Manila, Philippines. A group of skilled men can help build an orphanage, a few young people can do football coaching or guitar classes, even a Pastor can teach a module in Bible College. We might need to ask our government to speak up about a human rights matter, to offer hospitality to a Christian leader from the developing world…

But home mission and overseas mission are one and the same thing. In some tribes, teenage lads are sent away from the village when the hormones start kicking in. They are sent out into the bush to become men. There they live in their own camp, with the old support structures taken away. They are out of their comfort zone and it’s a big adventure. But that adventure, that shared experience of being in a new and challenging situation, that shared experience of being on the edge builds a sense of community. Later on they will sit around the fire and share stories: “remember the night we had nothing to eat? Remember when we had a lion stalk us and we had to chase it away? Remember when you killed your first antelope?” Only those who have been on the big adventure are really part of the stories. We can all be part of the big adventure of mission: we can we part of Andrew and Maria’s story, and I know they want to hear or stories too.

Far from draining resources that you could do with for Rosyth or Kilsyth or Kilwinning, missionaries put something back. And the experience of being a sending church reinforces the mission instinct in all of us. Because the principles are the same: cross-cultural mission, showing the love of Jesus, building relationships; earning the right to be heard; speaking the other person’s language; giving them the Good News and helping them to become authentic Christian community. I look forward to what God will do in Iraq, and Rosyth as we engage with his mission. Engage with cross-cultural mission locally, engage with the Cross cultural missionary God; and engage with cross-cultural mission globally.

© Gilmour Lilly August 2010