Keswick 22.3: Beyond the big tent…..

The Keswick Convention for us is over, and we have moved on. Indeed, we have moved north on our summer road trip. We spent a good part of today wandering around Edinburgh, our former home. When we first married, we settled here. In driving in to the city we made a short detour to drive past our first flat. Two of our children were born in Edinburgh (one studied here and hasn’t yet left). Even when stuffed with summer tourists it is a beautiful place. And, as we are obviously north of the (currently fictional) border, it was the Scottish edition of the Times that we bought today. Scotland these days is said by some to be a fairly Godless place. The national church, as opposed to the Church, is in rapid, if not yet quite terminal decline. Government here, particularly its Green Party element, is relentlessly secular. And yet today I found two church stories in the Scottish edition of the Times (unfortunately behind a paywall, otherwise I’d provide links to the stories). For different reasons, neither of them is particularly encouraging, at least when taken at face value.

On page 5 is a story about Destiny Church, described as “an American evangelical church”. Destiny Church and Ministries was founded in Glasgow around 1990. Its belief statement on its website certainly declares that it teaches everything you would expect in an evangelical church, with a few additions. It falls into the charismatic camp, with the expected prominence given to teaching about the Holy Spirit, and an attachment to claimed miracles such as healings. In the past it has had associations with “prosperity gospel” teachers such as the appropriately named Creflo Dollar. It has now suffered some splits and defections, with complaints about financial irregularities and exploitation of members being made to the charity authorities in Scotland. Hence the story in today’s paper. I have no notion whether there is any truth in these accusations, and I have no particular criticism to make here of Destiny. I happily confess I know little of them. However, even taking a sceptical view of some of their own claims, they provide evidence that parts of the Church are apparently far from in decline. Exactly how authentic the churches in Destiny’s network are, time (and for that matter eternity) will tell.

Then a little further on (page 23) I encountered the headline “Secular Scotland feels little need for God, warns Kirk moderator”. This is a story about the Church of Scotland’s continuing decline and indeed its own narrative of that decline. It has recognized this formally in as much as it is in the process of rationalizing (i.e. reducing) its number of parishes and posts. The incoming moderator, writing for next months “Church and Life”, is to claim “Christendom has gone” and that Scots live in a culture “that feels little need for God”. The quotations are those that the Times’ journalist has seen fit to include in the story of course. Presumably the Times has seen a copy of the Church and Life article, rather than itself claiming any prophetic insight.

I suppose that the Moderator might claim he has been misquoted. We’ll see. But it is true that there is an ongoing debate within the C of S about its decline and what it is to do. A blog post which is also quoted in the article, authored by one of the Church’s academics, gives a flavour of aspects of the ongoing discussion. The blog post focusses on how the human institution that is the C of S should organize to survive. But nowhere does it engage with the C of S’s central problem. It ceased believe and preach what was supposed to be, and historically was, at its core – the Gospel of Jesus Christ. To conclude that the C of S’s decline means that there is no appetite for the Gospel it has refused to preach is bizarre. Destiny’s story, at least in part, provides evidence to that end.

It was not really the detail of either story that caught my interest. It was that firstly both appeared at all. Again, this rather counts against the idea that there is no interest in such things here in Scotland. I assume that the newspapers, here as elsewhere, only devote column inches to what they think their readers, or at least reasonable proportion of their readers, will find interesting. The Times apparently thinks that news about Christian churches falls into that category. Admittedly you could see both as fairly depressing, and a sign of a secular media taking the opportunity to paint Christians in a poor light. But secondly, beyond the immediate contrast between the two stories themselves there are a number of other contrast that should be pointed up. And this is where Keswick is relevant.

All last week we had the confident presentation of a Gospel and its impacts based on the authoritative Word of God. The confidence was not based in the talents of speakers like Alistair Begg (a Scot as it happens) or the other main speakers, one of whom, David Gibson, is based in a growing church in Aberdeen which, while presbyterian, is not part of the Church of Scotland. These men, and others, were both confident and competent. Not in their own talents, but in the Word that they preached. Now of course the audience they were preaching to was self-selected (although in Week 1 it has a distinctly Scottish feel). Many of us were there precisely because we shared the basic presuppositions of those who were speaking. No surprises there. But we have all now dispersed, some us to that part of the UK which it is claimed “feels little need for God”. As for ourselves, we’re only visiting. But many others love and live here in Scotland. And they are no doubt back with a spring in their step, and I hope a renewed ambition to share the Gospel that the Church of Scotland is so singularly refusing to share.

In the big tent as Keswick, over three summer weeks, there will be full hearts and occasionally damp cheeks. It will be warm in more ways than one. It’s an atmosphere where it’s easy to be a Christian and committed to the Gospel. It may be harder beyond the tent, but this is where the Gospel is in desperately short supply, and therefore where it’s desperately needed.

Keswick 22.2: Picture language

Cooler on Wednesday in the big Keswick Convention tent. So cool, that Alistair Begg had donned his jacket and tie once again for the morning Bible Reading. Tuesday and Wednesday we looked at the pictures that Paul painted for Timothy that he might understand who and what he should be. Not painting by numbers, but painting with words. Two millennia later, the same pictures remain helpful. That’s because as Paul wielded the brush (or rather the pen), he was doing so as one entirely shaped and sustained by the eternal artist (author). We had three pictures on Tuesday, and three on Wednesday. Anyone interested in the details can get access to the talks via the Keswick Ministries website. But here are some highlights from the first set of three.

On Tuesday we thought about the devotion of the soldier, the discipline of the athlete and the determination of the farmer. These pictures still work because we’ve all been reminded recently about aspects of all three, and how much they all matter. There is, after all, a war raging on this continent which is global in its impact. On one side of the conflict there are lots of resources in terms of men and material. And yet, because of the quality of the soldiers opposing all of that force, and because of their bravery and discipline, there has been success in slowing the advance of the enemy. Such qualities may yet turn the invaders back. A conflict, the outcome of which seemed inevitable when it started, could now tip either way. But the point is that discipline is vital for victory. The picture holds true, and lessons can be drawn.

Just yesterday, a UK athlete, Jake Wightman, won a gold medal at the World Athletics Championship. To do so, he had to compete within the rules. Some have won, but have been stripped of their prize because they broke the rules. Some even don’t get to compete because they break the rules. In fact rules are absolutely necessary if there’s to be a meaningful competition in which people are able to express themselves freely. It seems a contradiction, but rules are actually liberating. Such expression takes devotion, discipline and serious application. Wightman himself said after his run “I have given up so much to get to this point, such a lot of things sacrificed….”. But, it was all worthwhile (although his was a reward  that will soon fade.  

And then there’s the farmer. As food prices soar, both in the UK and internationally, we’re all coming to appreciate more the importance of farmers. Not for them the glory of the smart uniform or athletics vest, not for them the parade or the packed stadium shouting their name. Just a boiler suit, and dirty finger nails, and hard graft. There’s a glamour about the soldier and the athlete that’s absent from the farmer’s experience. Maybe that’s the point of the picture. There might be a harvest to enjoy, but there might not be; farming is a risky business. But the farmer will work on regardless. Determined. Persevering. Sometimes life has a plodding quality. Maybe for most of us, that’s what it’s like most of the time. Fine.

As a friend of mine used to say - don’t be afraid to plod.

Keswick 22.1: Baton passing for beginners……..

It’s July, it’s hot (record-breaking hot), and it’s time for the Keswick Convention once again. Today (Monday) was the first day of this year’s Week 1 “Bible Readings”. The theme of the week is “Grateful” and this week’s messages will be from 2 Timothy, delivered by Alistair Begg. And I’ve already been amply reminded of lots of reasons to be grateful.

Some of these are to do with my own past. In listening to the Begster (as a friend of mine called him recently - I would never be that cheeky), I was reminded of seed-sowing, mind-shaping experiences of student days in the Christian Union in the University of Glasgow. In fact I last heard Alistair Begg in the Queen Margaret Union common room (actually just a big beer-stained party space) in the early 1980’s. The older I get the more I appreciate those far off days when with a group of like-minded and like-aged individuals started to grow up – a process that continues. Home and family provided a good foundation, but it had to be built upon. A whole range of speakers at CU “teaching meetings” and a network of Christian friendships provided both means and materials. That is now 40 years in the past. I have no doubt that there are those who do not look back so fondly. For me it may only have been a stage but it was no passing phase. It was critical.

This morning, Alistair Begg mentioned in passing his friend Eric Alexander. The Rev Alexander, who retired from ministry in the Church of Scotland some years ago, in my day was something of a hero to many of us. A faithful and gifted preacher of the Word of God, and a man of faultless courtesy, he and his congregation in St Georges Tron in the centre of Glasgow provided a spiritual home to many of my contemporaries. He also figured in an early Keswick I attended, again in the ‘80s. There have been so many of these figures. I attended a memorial service for Peter Maiden yesterday in the Keswick tent. I suppose those whose formative days are today will have their own heroes, models and influences. But today the subject of baton passing was definitely front and centre.

This is one of the big themes of 2 Timothy, a parting letter from Paul to his young (or at least younger) associate Timothy. There is truth, ‘sound words’ to be guarded. Believing this truth, teaching it, obeying it, living it, would be costly. It would entail suffering because to live in this way would inevitably evoke opposition, and that opposition would bring pressure. To resist that pressure would involve cost and suffering. Paul endured suffering, and invited Timothy to share in it. This all sounds a bit grim. And it would be if we were talking about suffering for a philosophy or creed. But the Gospel is much more than that. Much more than a set of human propositions. It is both a person to whom we are drawn and united, and the truth that reveals that person. Paul calls it the “testimony about our Lord”. It was transformative in Paul’s life, and in Timothy’s. But would it, could it, survive the passing into history of the likes of Paul and the other Apostles?

This was Paul’s concern. He would tell Timothy (I’m assuming we’ll come to this later in the week) to pass it on to faithful men and women. Others who, having been called and transformed, would themselves pass it on, unaltered and untainted (otherwise it would not be the Gospel). Paul need not have worried, indeed he probably didn’t. He had both conviction and confidence. Not in himself, and not even in Timothy. He reminds Timothy (I’m fairly sure this was ground they covered many times) that the resources available to accomplish this task were primarily not human but divine. The same God who authored the Gospel (Paul calls it the “Gospel of God” in Romans), provided the resources for its preservation; the “spirit of love, power and self-control”, the Holy Spirit who through His indwelling would empower Timothy to guard the good deposit. This is hardly surprising given that the Gospel is God’s rescue plan for sinful, fallen creatures, initiated in eternity past, with an objective in eternity future. Its execution is not likely to want for resources.

But Paul’s letter to Timothy was written a long time ago and long way away. How is it all going? Well, Timothy found those trustworthy men and women, and then they, in their turn, found others, and so on down the years. All the way along there were probably those who fretted that things were so bad that the whole thing was running into the sand. But eventually the very same Gospel was entrusted to the likes of Alexander and Begg, who have spent their lives doing exactly as Paul instructed Timothy. It happened again, today, in a big tent in Keswick. I owe a great debt to the likes of them, and many others. In a sense that same message has been entrusted to me.

Many thanks. Now to pass it on. 

Bookending Boris

As one layer of political dust falls out of the air and begins to settle, another cloud is kicked up by the shuffle of political feet, stinging the eyes and clogging the back of the throat. Boris is no more. Not quite true of course. Like so much else about him, what is said, and what has actually transpired do not quite tally. They might, in time; hopefully they will. But with Boris, one just never knows. I am referring of course to our current and (probably) soon to be former Prime Minister, Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson. He became PM on the 24^th July, 2019, and stepped through the Number 10 door to announce his intention to resign at 12.30pm, July 7^th, 2022. When the Conservative party has elected a new leader, Boris will tender his resignation to her Majesty, who will then invite his replacement as Conservative party leader to form a new administration.

To digress and to be clear, the people of the UK to not elect Prime Ministers. We each of us have a vote for a constituency MP. In theory, the PM is anyone who can command a majority in the House of Commons (usually, but not always, determined by a general election), and he or she then chairs a cabinet of equals to implement a manifesto and govern the country. In practice, for much of the last 200 years this has been done on a party basis, and the leader of the largest party (which usually holds an absolute majority in the Commons) is the PM. Parties and manifestos have become less important as first mass and then social media have turned politics into a personality-driven affair focusing on one person. But our system does not work well this way. The kind of checks and balances in the US presidential system (of the kind Trump tried to subvert with partial success) do not actually exist here. In a way, because our PM holds lots of executive and legislative power, the position of PM is the more powerful (and therefore dangerous) position. This is something Boris has amply demonstrated.

He has been displaced without an election, even although it took an election to (only just) dispense with Trump – at least for now. There is no great policy divide in his party. Everyone is now a brexiteer, and believes in a small state and reduced taxation. It was Boris personally, rather than politically, who had become unacceptable and had to be replaced. It was his colleagues in government who provided the mechanism, not the people at large. This is not in the least anti-democratic, provided that Boris’ Conservative successor is committed to implementing the manifest on which all Conservatives were elected back in December 2019. There’s no point huffing and puffing that the next PM is being imposed on the rest of us by a selectorate of mainly southern bluerinsers. We don’t elect the PM, and we never have. Anyway, back to Boris.

Although he has not yet departed, it is worth identifying what has done for him, because it is both troubling and heartening. His lack of attention to the requirements of governing (as opposed to campaigning), observing important rules and conventions, paying attention to detail, caused problems which afflicted his administration right from the start. But it was his complete inability to act honestly and transparently that really hurt him. Latterly, there was even an attempt to institutionalise what looked like his contempt for honesty by making none-too-subtle tweaks to the “ministerial code” – a venerable but toothless set of guidance authored by each PM, and provided to serving ministers. Boris’ problems with honestly and consistency, as evidenced by his inability to apply the code to himself and one of his friends, cost him two ethics advisors who were both serious and non-political public servants with copious experience in public life. This all began catching up with Boris when his Health Secretary and then his Chancellor resigned, to be followed by a gathering avalanche of other resignations. So the central issue was not policy; it was entirely to do with Boris’ unsuitability for the role because of his lack of personal integrity. What’s troubling is not only that all of this was predictable, but that it was predicted.

This is usefully illustrated by two columns written by Max Hastings, the first in June 2019 and the second last Thursday, (7^th July). Two bookends for Boris’ time as PM. Hastings is a distinguished (indeed Knighted) journalist and historian, and one of Boris’ previous bosses. He has observed him from afar and up close, and while never a chum, was not a natural enemy. While I suspect Hastings is a natural, small “c” conservative, he has actually voted both Conservative and Labour in the past. In 2019 he was excoriating; he is now relieved, while sounding somewhat apprehensive about the future. He is clearly a remainer, although in his more recent article he makes it clear that for the time being re-joining the EU is off the agenda (the current political consensus), even while arguing that he expects the issue to be revisited in the future. But while thinking that Brexit is folly, this is not at the centre of his critique.

Writing in 2019, Hastings quickly honed in on the character flaw that would eventually lead to Boris’ downfall: “He would not recognize the truth…if confronted by it in an identity parade”. He was unfit for national office because “…he cares for no interest save his own frame and gratification”. He then predicted that Boris’ premiership “..will almost certainly reveal a contempt for rules, precedent, order and stability”. Prescient indeed. Writing after Boris’ demise, with the evidence clear to see, Hastings wrote “[Boris] is a stranger to truth who has sooner or later betrayed every man, woman and cause with which he associates”. Nothing has changed though, Boris was “the same moral bankrupt as when the Conservative party chose him”. Of course both the Conservative party and the country connived in the Boris phenomenon. Pushing issues of personal morality aside, he was voted for to achieve what was deemed of more importance than things like truth and integrity. I understand this; I struggled with it myself at onepoint.

The heartening bit is that, having flirted with disaster, we have avoided it. The unwritten British constitution has been flexible enough to both survive and remove Boris, without mass violence. This is not something to be dismissed lightly, as events in the US demonstrated. It looks like the system there has also survived but only after mass violence that cost lives. We have apparently decided that integrity matters, even if accompanied by a dash of hypocrisy and political calculation. It may not be everything, but I’ll take it as a promising sign that all is not lost.

One other heartening aspect is that according to Sajid Javid, whose resignation got the ball rolling, it was the sermon of the Rev Les Isaac, “Serving the Common Good”, at the National Prayer Breakfast early on the 5^th July that pushed him across the line. He went straight back to his office to write his letter of resignation. The cynics will claim that this is just convenient cover for ambition and disloyalty. But it sounds to me more like Providence being kind to us (again), and doing what we could not do ourselves – focus on, and value, truth over expediency.

 

My piano was tuned the other day. It’s been a while. We’ve been in our current house for almost twenty three years, and it hasn’t been tuned all the time that we’ve been here. Before that it was in our house in Glasgow, and before that a flat in Edinburgh. It had been moved there down several spiral flights of stairs from a third floor tenement flat in Edinburgh. So it has travelled around throughout my adult life, since the days when I would daydream rather than practice in the front room of my Granny’s tenement flat in Glasgow’s east end. And that, it turns out, is only a small part of the story of this particular piano.

As far as I had known, it was bought from a shop in Duke Street, Glasgow, some time in the 1950’s by my “auntie” Mary (actually a great aunt). It was later, in the 1960’s, that it was moved to my Granny’s front room, where I encountered it most weeknights. I’m sure I started piano lessons with the best of intentions; they lasted barely a fortnight, the lessons lasted much longer. I went to lessons for about eight years – poor Mrs Stephenson (my long-suffering piano teacher). I didn’t know if Auntie Mary had bought the piano new, but I do now. When the piano tuner removed the front of the piano, both top and bottom, to get at the mechanism, in addition to some mould and a broken dampener, the most significant thing to be seen was a label that I assume was affixed when the piano was new. It listed the dates of the first few tunings along with the initials of the tuners. The date of the earliest tuning was in 1903 - my piano is about 120 years old. It is in fairly good nick for its age, especially now that it is approaching being in tune for the first time in a while. Gets you thinking though.

I met all four of my grandparents, although my paternal grandparent both died when I was a small boy. It is worth noting that it is only relatively recently that knowing your grandparents became common. When my piano was first tuned, average male life expectancy in the UK was only about 45 years. According to the latest ONS figures, average life expectancy is now around 80 (and greatly improved from the 68.1 for my birth cohort). These numbers are population averages and hide vast variation. The 20^th century was a tough one for many. After all, there were two world wars and the privations that came with them. Disease for many was an ever present, potentially fatal threat. The pandemic has reminded us of how modern medicine has improved our lot. In the mid 20^th century, infectious diseases like TB were still killing large numbers of those infected (the pre-WW2 case fatality rate was about 50%), and childhood diseases like measles still killed hundreds every year. Polio, in the news recently, was a major scourge. I remember, as a child, visiting a family friend who was in an “iron lung”, the result of a polio infection. The antibiotics that became widely available after the war, and the childhood vaccines that were gradually introduced, fundamentally transformed this health landscape. The net result of this, plus other innovations like the NHS, improved diet, improvement in air quality because of the clean air acts, is that my children have known all four of their grandparents, and I (maybe/probably) might get to know mine.

Back on the subject of old age and music, we had the sight and sound last week at Glastonbury of the 80-year-old Paul McCartney introducing those two young whippersnappers Dave Grohl (a mere 53) and Bruce Springsteen (72) to the crowd during an acclaimed set lasting almost three hours. It was a reminder that by and large we are not only living longer lives, but we’re remaining healthy into old age. All things being equal, I might have quite a long time to enjoy my newly in-tune(ish) piano. And I get to enjoy other things too. I celebrated my own 60^th birthday this week (hence all this meditating on age). So the other day (as a special treat) we made our way into town and I obtained my Merseytravel over-60s travel-pass. The (Merseyside) world is now my free oyster, although only after 9.30am and at weekends. I have no idea if I will actually avail myself much of this new-found freedom of buses, trains and yes, the famous Mersey ferry. But it’s the principle that counts. I don’t have quite the same life to reflect on as Macca; he has been a cultural icon for at least sixty of his eighty years. But my life, the only one I have to ruminate on, has been truly blessed, and by much more that even living in Liverpool.

Many things have changed over my sixty years, and many things will change should I have twenty or so more. But for fifty of my sixty years there has been one constant. One of the things I was blessed with was parents who know and love Jesus, and so introduced me to Him. This was about example, not coercion. For reasons we needn’t go into, at the age of ten I asked Him (as it seemed to me) to keep me safe (I had something pretty specific in mind that I wanted to be kept safe from). I had no deep understanding of what I was doing, or its implications, but something fundamentally changed at that point which has shaped my life since, and indeed my eternal destiny. My understanding has grown. I am surer now of the basis on which I made my commitment to Him, and I am clearer about His commitment to me. This is not a symmetrical relationship; how could it be? But it is a relationship that goes both ways. The basis of that transaction (for that’s how I saw it) was all to do with who He is, and what He accomplished in His death two millennia ago. That basis is unchanged and unchanging – it is His grace through which His benefits have continued to flow to me.

There have of course been bumps along the way. There always are in real life. And there will be more. But when knocked of out of tune, He always has the skill to set me right; He has perfect pitch.