The other Sunday at Spen Valley Church we started a new sermon series in the Psalms of Ascent. I love these psalms; brutally realistic about the fact that the Christian life is war, uncompromising in their call for us to depend entirely on the Lord’s keeping power for our peace and security, and full of hope of the joy of being one together with the Lord and his people.
Funnily enough, we started out at the beginning, Psalm 120. It really is brutal in showing us the Christian life as war. But as I started to think about the applications for us, it struck me that this psalm isn’t really about what we normally talk about when we think about the battle of the Christian life.
You see, we think about the Christian life as war because of the battle to pursuing holiness, or kill sin, or even because of the fight to keep trusting the Lord when suffering strikes or loved ones die. But the slight problem is that that’s not really what the psalmist’s problem is.
He’s fighting a war because of where he lives and who he lives among (vs. 5). Wherever it is that he lives, it at least feels like he’s living among pagans. And pagans (vv. 6-7) who hate everything he is and everything he says. He is a believer, one of the Lord’s people, who’s very identity is one of peace with God and his people. A man who wants to speak the good news of peace to all around him. And yet all this peaceful being and speaking only brings him war. It’s a fight to keep going, keep believing, keep speaking. So much so that (vs. 1) he’s repeatedly crying to the Lord for help.
There were lots of applications of this war for us as a church. Check them out here if want. But I just want to dwell on one for a few posts here. I might be getting this proper wrong, but I reckon that for a lot of us the psalmist’s experience isn’t really our own day to day experience. Now, I understand that if you work in academia or a similar environment, or even TV land, then you might regularly come up against people who don’t like the Bible’s view about certain social issues. But I reckon that for lots of us, especially in small northern towns like ours, the war the psalmist is talking about just isn’t something that causes us the same distress it does him. And I reckon there’s at least two fairly simple reasons for that.
Firstly, I reckon that often our default pattern of life is different to the psalmist’s. We might inhabit the same geographical location as plenty of non-Christians, both at home and work. But whether or not we dwell amongst them is another question entirely. It’s far too easy for so many Christians to avoid spending time amongst those who don’t know Jesus, and spend all our non-work time in the Christian bubble. Another meeting to attend, another committee to be on, another youth club to run, another shift at the church foodbank/drop-in/café to get on with. All our mates are Christians, and sometimes we even enjoy spending time with them. When asked at the prayer meeting to give a name of a non-Christian we know well, and want to share the gospel with though, if we’re honest, it’s a bit of a struggle.
Perhaps no-one hates us, because no-one actually, really, knows us.
Or perhaps we do know people. We’re even invested in people’s lives. But if we’re honest it’s quite hard for them to tell the difference between them and us. Yeah, we have that funny hobby on a Sunday, and we’ve got some weird thing about Jesus, and a few daddy issues. But the stuff we talk about, the stuff we get excited about, the dreams we live for, they’re pretty much in line with theirs. From what we say, they could easily make out that if our kids turn out normal and successful, our spouse is gorgeous, we get that promotion, we win the lottery, our team win the league, and our version of Brexit was delivered, we’d think life was quite tidy, thanks very much. Perhaps the idea of telling them that they’re a sinner heading for hell and in desperate need of Jesus as Saviour and Lord has crossed our mind, but…well, they wouldn’t like that, would they now?!
Perhaps no-one’s out for war, because we barely ever speak of peace.
In our town, probably 99% plus have never heard the gospel. It’s probably similar in yours. Unless we actually get out there and tell them, that ain’t going to change. They’ll never know they’re at war with God unless we live among them, speaking and living out the implications of the gospel of peace.
So what can we do about that? Well, next week I want to think about some of the systematic reasons why it’s so easy for us to live in the Christian bubble and how we can try to change them. But for now…? Pray. Go out of your door. Pray. Go somewhere, anywhere, where’s there’s people. Pray. Meet some people and get to know them. Pray. Tell them about Jesus and their need of him. Pray.
Repeat. Then repeat. And repe…
You get the picture…