God etc Blog

Men Under Pressure Meet Jesus - Men’s Dinner

Tue, 9 Sep 2008 16:17:40 +1000

The irrepressible Mark Middleton asked me if I’d speak at a Men’s Dinner for St Michael’s Anglican Church, Wollongong. My speaking engagements are rare as hen’s teeth. I’m a bit of a dangerous beast - I LOVE listening to great sermons and bible talks but have very limited experience. So I am able to sound a lot more like I know what I am doing than I am able to actually DO it...

Nonetheless, it was a great opportunity to have a sing and a bit of a chat to about 110 blokes. Mark gave me the theme, Men Under Pressure. I picked 3 gospel narratives and talked about who was under pressure and ultimately about the pressure Jesus faced on the cross - and the pressure to put our faith in Him alone.

How’s I go?

Well, I’ve digested the notes a little to get them onto the blog, so if I do it again I’m sure I’d do a little better. but feedback was generally kind, even though I have invited harsh criticism if necessary. That can be the trouble with hanging around Christians...all so blinkin’ NICE...

For those with experience, I’m always interested in feedback, especially on this sort of thing. I’ve always imagined that the older I get the more of this sort of thing I may do. you know, hang up the space man suit...

MEN UNDER PRESSURE MEET JESUS
A talk and sing given in Wollongong for the St Michael’s Men’s dinner
August 2008

SONG: Day 13 855

Reading 1
Mark 1:14-20

Today I saw a neighbour of mine out in the reserve behind our place. He’d got a nasty leg injury form the common mistake of playing soccer with a 25 year old head on a 45 year old body. Nasty. But I’d not seen him for a while and I naturally shook his hand.

He’s a builder. And his hands have the grit and texture and leatheryness – and strength - that only comes from years – decades - on the tools.

I imagine they’re the same sort of hands as the hands in the story we read. Carpenter Jesus recently left his tools to preach and teach. And he calls the fishermen – Simon, Andrew, James and John. Live in the reality of the story. These boys were workers.

They had workers hands – they had the tools and the skill to use them. They had a head for business – they were at work, with employees, the boat, the business was in full swing. Their Dad was there – Zebedee. It was the family trade. I expect like any tradesmen, businessman or worker here, they were no strangers to the pressures – and uncertainties - of making a living, supporting your family.

Along comes Jesus and says to these lads, “Follow me.” And they do just that – they leave it all and follow Jesus. Leave the tools and trade of fishing to take up a new trade with a new master – capturing men, as they had been captured.

It’s a picture of what a Christian is – plain and simple. A Jesus-follower.

Jesus had been preaching around Galilee prior to this – we read it in the preceding verses. Galilee is more like NSW than Fairy Meadow or Coledale. A region. And his message is summarized: “Repent and believe the good news! The Kingdom of God is near!”

Repent is a God word. It means turn, leave, do the 180. What’s it look like to repent? It looks like fishermen. Dropping their nets, leaving their livelihood, hugging Dad farewell. Repentance is something you can see, it’s something you do.

Believe. In reading this, I think it means to put the weight of your convictions, principles, hope, integrity, the way you fit the world together – put it all on Jesus. Let him define it all, be the centre point.

We never know what’s around the corner. We’ve all heard – or lived - stories of unexpected hardship, disaster, joy or drama. No one can deny our ignorance of the future. We have a PVR (hard drive video recorder) and you can pause live TV, save it for later, fast forward the ads. But when you use up the buffer, and you get to the present, you can’t fast forward any more. Someone will say in the ads, “Fast forward it!” And, I, as the Keeper of the Remote, will say, “we can’t! We’re up to now!” When you’re up to now, you just have to wait.

Simon, Andrew, James and John went to work as normal, not knowing that today was the day they would meet Jesus and everything was going to change. Today they’d get to decide – follow Jesus or business as usual?

You never know what’s around the corner.

SONG: Missin’ Slim

Men under pressure meet Jesus.

Love to look at another account of an encounter with Jesus.

Reading 2
Mark 5:21-24; 36-43

21When Jesus had again crossed over by boat to the other side of the lake, a large crowd gathered around him while he was by the lake. 22Then one of the synagogue rulers, named Jairus, came there. Seeing Jesus, he fell at his feet 23and pleaded earnestly with him, "My little daughter is dying. Please come and put your hands on her so that she will be healed and live." 24So Jesus went with him.
A large crowd followed and pressed around him…

35While Jesus was still speaking, some men came from the house of Jairus, the synagogue ruler. "Your daughter is dead," they said. "Why bother the teacher any more?" 36Ignoring what they said, Jesus told the synagogue ruler, "Don't be afraid; just believe."
37He did not let anyone follow him except Peter, James and John the brother of James. 38When they came to the home of the synagogue ruler, Jesus saw a commotion, with people crying and wailing loudly. 39He went in and said to them, "Why all this commotion and wailing? The child is not dead but asleep." 40But they laughed at him.

After he put them all out, he took the child's father and mother and the disciples who were with him, and went in where the child was. 41He took her by the hand and said to her, "Talitha koum!" (which means, "Little girl, I say to you, get up!" ). 42Immediately the girl stood up and walked around (she was twelve years old). At this they were completely astonished. 43He gave strict orders not to let anyone know about this, and told them to give her something to eat.

Jairus was the chairman of the board, president, leading religious layman, chief warden – a unique position. He was respected, capable, competent.

And he was a man under one of the most fearful pressure – his precious little girl was gravely, terminally ill.

Emotionally, your kids really get to you in a way nobody else can. As I headed through the doors of customs and waved goodbye to my family, knowing that I’d not see them for nearly a month, I wasn’t surprised to see the female of the species crying. Robyn can cry in toilet paper commercials. My girls were a bit teary, and I sort of expected that. But my tears started to flow when I saw my 11 year old son eyes red and swollen with tears. That was the arrow into my heart…

When your kids are upset, or scared, or worried, as a dad you feel it. When they’re sick – especially that sort of lethargic, hanging-on sickness, you feel it.

And when they’re dying…

Jairus was a man under immense, deep pressure. See what he does. For all his profile, his reputation, experience, wealth, status are gone – he’s literally in the dirt, at Jesus feet, pleading.

When was the last time you pleaded?

I was told at check-in going to the UK a month ago I’d be up for $1000 excess baggage EACH WAY!!! That’s going to turn the seasoned, jet setting, unflappable traveler into a pathetic, pleading, beggar! The parking inspector with the pad and pen out will get you pleading, too.

How about pleading for the life of your child?

Jesus goes with him, but they are met on the way with the devastating news – the girl is dead. Leave the teacher – you don’t need him now.

(Do you do that to people? Use them and then discard them? Do you do it to God?)

Jesus says to Jairus what he said to Galilee. Believe. “Don’t; be afraid – just believe!” Put the weight of your convictions, principles, hope, integrity, the way you fit the world together – and your fears – put it all on Jesus. Let him define it, take the weight of it, make Him the centre point.

Nets and boats and family are no small thing to leave for Jesus. The life of your beloved daughter – these are high stakes indeed. But see who’s with them when they arrive? The fishermen. Peter, James and John. Jesus didn’t just command them back by the sea – “Follow me!” He promised them something too – “…I’ll make you fishers of men…”

What’s a fisher of men? They’re finding out. Jesus is plunging them – and plunging himself – into desperate, broken, sick, dying sinful, hopeless lives – and bringing hope, light, forgiveness, healing – life. Let the story live for you.

Imagine years late, the lads are sharing a wine after dinner, or around a campfire, or walking together when one of them says, “Hey. Remember that day at Jairus’ house? The mourners were wailing. I’ll never forget how Jesus took Jairus and his wife – and said to us, no, you three come too. And there we were in the room, the little girl’s body so peaceful, pale, lifeless. Jairus and his wife are sobbing; we don’t know what’s meant to happen next…

“Then Jesus tenderly spoke – he just quietly, powerfully commands her death away… And death obeyed him… Suddenly the gutted, devastated parents are embracing their daughter again, and she’d warm, and gripping them, she’s alive…

Get stunned all over again.

When men are under the pressure of life and death – their own and others – there is someone they need to have by their side more than anyone else. It is the One who commands death, who has power to destroy the twin viruses of suffering and sin – and the death they inevitably bring without his intervention.

Consider that there is a lot of grief in this story before the little one rose. And there was grief after this story was done. Perhaps one day they might dig up her gravestone. Here lies Jairus’ daughter, who died, was brought to life again, only to die once more. She shared the fate we all face.

What then?

The stunning thing about this story is that Jesus commands eternal life and death. He solves the problem of inevitable death. He is the answer. He called himself the life. He said he came that we might have life. He is the only source of eternal life.

When men face the pressure of life and death and see it - and Jesus - as they really are, they fall at His feet. They see death in all its horror. Do you fear death? Do you fear the death of a loved one? Jesus masters death. In the face of death he says to me and to you, “Don’t be afraid, just believe.”

SONG: Bishop of Burrill

Reading 3
Mark 15:25-39

25It was the third hour when they crucified him. 26The written notice of the charge against him read: THE KING OF THE JEWS. 27They crucified two robbers with him, one on his right and one on his left. 29Those who passed by hurled insults at him, shaking their heads and saying, "So! You who are going to destroy the temple and build it in three days, 30come down from the cross and save yourself!"
31In the same way the chief priests and the teachers of the law mocked him among themselves. "He saved others," they said, "but he can't save himself! 32Let this Christ, this King of Israel, come down now from the cross, that we may see and believe." Those crucified with him also heaped insults on him.
33At the sixth hour darkness came over the whole land until the ninth hour. 34And at the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice, "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?"—which means, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"
35When some of those standing near heard this, they said, "Listen, he's calling Elijah."
36One man ran, filled a sponge with wine vinegar, put it on a stick, and offered it to Jesus to drink. "Now leave him alone. Let's see if Elijah comes to take him down," he said.
37With a loud cry, Jesus breathed his last.

38The curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. 39And when the centurion, who stood there in front of Jesus, heard his cry and saw how he died, he said, "Surely this man was the Son of God!"

Jesus was the ultimate man under pressure. This is a graphic, brutal story.

He was tortured. This hideous death came after an horrific whipping and beating, a crown of thorns rammed on his head.

In our culture, there’s usually something good to be said about the dead. There is no polite eulogy on Golgotha.

He hanged between two criminals – as if he was nothing more than a lawbreaking thug who deserved everything he got.

He has the sign placed above him – KING OF THE JEWS. What would you think if you saw a coffin in hearse spray painted with the word PEDOPHILE? No dignity, just shame.

He was surrounded not by mourners but mockers, who called him to save himself, get himself down off the cross. Don’t tidy it up. It’s all the brawn and blood and obscenity of the pub car park at 2am. It’s all the precise cruelty of the Beijing torture chamber.

But it’s so much more. This is more than the pressure of death. It’s the pressure of the price of death.

Jesus is forsaken by God. That’s the price of sin. That’s what’s happening here. There is the most significant transaction in history taking place. The life of God’s Son for the life of mankind. And they don’t even know it. Before a mix of indifferent, superstitious, vicious, stupid onlookers, he breathes his last.

And in the temple, the meeting place of God and man, the curtain that spoke of the deadly inability of sinful man to access the infinite, spotless, holy God was torn in two from top to bottom. The old order was obsolete. The death of Jesus was buying life, once and for all.

Jesus faced the ultimate pressure – not just an agonizing death, but separation from God. He was forsaken by his Father.

Were you to read on, you would see that the only ticket to defeating the grave is the righteousness of God. Jesus rose again because there is no penalty for those who have broken no law.

The stakes are high. The stories I’ve read from the scriptures are not like stories from the old newspaper that you find when you pull the old lino up at Nana’s place, or an out of date pizza voucher – interesting at the time, but past their use by.

One onlooker stands out. The centurion. One of the technicians actually delivering Jesus’ death! And he says, “Surely this man was the Son of God!”

We are all under eternal pressure – the pressure to decide where we throw the weight of our trust, our hope, our love, our talents, the weight of our convictions, principles, integrity how we’re going to fit the world together.

You have the pressure of Jesus calls, which come to you with all the authority of God Himself. Repent! Make the 180 to follow me! Believe! Throw the weight of all you are on me! Don’t be afraid! Will you trust Him for the eternal life he purchased on the cross? Or will you pay that price yourself, knowing that means an eternity of being forsaken by God.

An African woman was once asked, “What does Jesus mean to you?” She replied, “Him die, me no die.”

Jesus said…

36What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul? 37Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul?

It’s your soul. Your eternal soul. Priceless, if you think about it. Trade it for the world and you’ve been ripped off. It’s priceless. Jesus paid for it on the cross. Will you do the deal? Jim Elliot was a pilot who was martyred seeking to bring this message of Jesus to the Waodani Indians of Ecuador in 1956.

He went on…

38If anyone is ashamed of me and my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, the Son of Man will be ashamed of him when he comes in his Father's glory with the holy angels."

(Mark 8:36-38)

We don’t know what’s around the corner. But we’re all men under pressure in one way or another. But there’s no bigger question than this: Will you follow him? Will you believe? Will you repent? Will you place the weight of your life – now and for eternity - on Jesus? Will you bet all you have on Jesus?

SONG: Real Hope

Together for the Gospel 2008

Mon, 8 Sep 2008 09:46:56 +1000

I’m part way through the 2008 Together for the Gospel Conference (T4G) talks. Just great.

T4G is a lovely friendship between Ligon Duncan, Al Mohler, CJ Mahaney and Mark Dever that has blossomed into a blog and a bi-annual conference. They are committed Calvinists who share diverse denominational, methodological, stylistic (and, at times, theological) backgrounds yet who rally around the gospel of Jesus Christ and seek to call others to do the same. They are brains on legs who have dynamic ministries, a love for and commitment to the local church, a hearty and cheerful camaraderie and an infectious earnestness about the doctrines of grace.

I haven’t finished the talks yet but my stand-outs so far...

Mark Dever on Improving the Gospel. Do we set sail from the biblical gospel to spec up our message with accessories that may be good and right and worthy but in fact are not the gospel at all? This talk was helpful in seeing the subtleties of gospel additives that become gospel solvents and leave us with a compromised message.

Ligon Duncan on Doctrine. A great call to be faithful to the doctrines of scripture. We live in a story-loving age but mustn’t forget the scriptures call us to “guard our life and doctrine closely.” Great passing point LD made - ‘love your wife as Christ loved the church and gave himself for her” is a command we cannot obey properly without engaging the doctrine of the cross. Want a happier, more fulfilled marriage? Do doctrine (then live it!)

R C Sproul on the Curse of the Atonement. Wow, RC is an amazing teacher. He tells us how 50 years of thinking about the gospel will evaporate by comparison with his first 5 mins in heaven...but I’d like 5 mins of RC’s mind on it for now! We are scared of the thought of curse in our vibe-driven age, yet curse is part of the essence of salvation. Propitiation, expiation - Christ forsaken - the gospel has been crash-tested by being slammed at high speed into the curse of God against sin - and all who call on Jesus will never come to harm. A unique and sobering and very important message. Thanks RC.

-Thabiti Anyabwile and John Macarthur were good, too. There’s a meal in there for those who are ready to chow down. And lest anyone think me too scholarly, the ipod shuffle has been on as I’ve mown the lawn, eaten my breakfast and hung out the washing - hardly the prayer closet! But these sort of talks get the mind-juices going and spur me on to think about not just doing ministry stuff but the how and why and ifs and warnings of speaking God’s truth into others lives.

And I still have Al Mohler, Piper and CJ Mahaney to go!

Can’t wait for the panel discussions, too. It’s the lads get into Q & A and their wonderful respectful diversity and grasp of the word and powerful ministry endeavour - and grace - make them very stimulating, encouraging, challenging and nourishing in a way that is different from listening to a “talk”.

You can find out about T4G and get the talks for free here -

-

Colin’s Cornerstone Blog Part 3

Tue, 11 Sep 2007 20:14:27 +1000

With many words I have managed to drag the most perseverant reader only as far as our first night at Pera Bore, January 1988. Over a number of days the mob assembled from around Australia - and Fiji and Ghana and England. As unlikely a bunch of late teen to thirty year olds as you would ever hope to meet. Journalist, milkman, linesman, secretary, uni student, carpenter, canvas worker, school leavers. Shy ones, noisy ones. Private ones. In-your-face ones. Stubborn. Moody. Thoughtful. Intense. Chirpy. Complex. Careful. Measured. Incendiary. Private. City types. Country types. Some who had lived far and wide - both geographically and spiritually. Others who had never been this far from home. Man, what a mix. God had dealt the cards - a luckless, divinely inspired mad hand, not a double among them.

Not long after arriving we were corralled into the work groove, with the bulk of first year students working on Buster's cotton farm. As I write this, I think, "Wow, so many places to take this!" You only need to type the word "Buster" and my head ricochets off into a flurry of recollections.

Buster legends: Sam backed a D10 dozer over a brand new Subaru wagon one night... ("Hmmm, I thought." says Sam. "There isn't a drainage ditch here..." There wasn't a ute, either!)

Jack comes into our first lecture. "I've come to ask you to pray. If we don't get water down the river or out of the sky in 2 weeks, the crop is lost. So we give it to God." What?! The whole crop? Wow. This is what a faithful farmer looks like. He prays. And he gets everyone he can to pray.

Dan's laugh. John's quiet, warm steadiness. Dan's temper. JACK'S temper! Jack's laugh.

The tiger moth. Jack (shouting over the noise of the ancient engine): "If you feel sick, take off the leather helmet. Heave in that. Plenty have." Colin thinks: "I'm wearing that sick pail on my head!"

Sunday dinners hosted around Darling Farms. Pancakes at Jack and Harriet's Buster place. Table tennis, Asterix, Tin Tin, the bogus Peanut Brittle tin that exploded with coloured snakes... Generous, godly, hospitable, hard working, enterprising... Busters. Another collision of family faithfulness with earthy endeavour. If you ran to Bourke to escape God, think again. You'd woken up in the belly of Jonah's fish! God's present plan was propelling so much, everywhere you looked - from massive articulated John Deere tractors to swinging hoes in seas of green, from excavators clawing out the impressive pump stations on the Darling to scrapers carving the massive disc of a dam... A simple conversation was the scratch on the surface of the activity that so often revealed the spiritual intent behind the enterprise. Building God's kingdom was the prime agenda. Doing that as a family of faithful farmers doing cotton farming was the job at hand. I kept hearing of missionaries and ministers whose support line had its roots in Darling Farms.

So most of us green first years were part of the Buster army - cotton chipping, surveying, tractor driving, irrigating, stick picking...

Robyn and I were exceptions to the rule. With my teaching background, I was commandeered for service in the Pera Bore Christian Community School, Robyn's secretarial prowess found her behind the typewriter in the community office. Although we served a valuable purpose, from time to time afterwards we have reflected on how perhaps our work isolated us from the along-the-way-ness of relationships in the community. We were the only married couple in first year, so that had an impact, too. (We were excused from Saturday morning work for that reason - marriage had some additional benefits...)

At the school, I was responsible for teaching the entire primary department each school day until lunchtime. Total primary enrollment: 9 students. With Elvira McIntosh propelling an educational philosophy rich with relationship, wide-eyed discovery, love of literature and fueled by imagination, it was a year of teaching most probably unique in the history of education. Heather Buster got a little nervous when the kids came home with tales of being ferried across the paddocks in the boot of Colin's car to look at the excavations in progress. Or of Colin starting his 15 minutes of reading a story aloud after recess and finishing (reluctantly) after lunch - over an hour and a half later. (Arthur Ransome's ripping Swallows and Amazons yarn "We Didn't Mean to Go Out to Sea".) Or of discovery walks along the Bridal track, revealing relics and fauna and spawning conversations that meandered across subjects and timetables and back again. Or of singing. LOTS of singing!

Look, we did maths, science, grammar and all that necessary stuff. But when you get your heads down and there are only 9 of you, boy, the possibilities! Add the mandate of spiritual, biblical, pastoral guidance - Wow! Reading Susan Shaeffer Macauley's "For the Children's Sake" probably didn't help. I often say that my year at Pera Bore CCS vandalised my teaching for ever. It didn't really. It merely vandalised my capacity to live with the relational and educational possibilities of learning within the constraints of institutional education. I think my vision for education would be stunted without it, but life in a large school was never the same since. When you teach a school of 9, you never really see a class. You see 9 children, 9 little imaginations, 9 relationships waiting to blossom, each uniquely. 9 chances to personally meet the intellectual and emotional challenges unique people pose. Step into a room of 30, and I don't so easily see a class any more. I see 30, not one. Big mistake if you want to keep the lumbering freight train of institutional education rolling slowly to its destination. No one - teacher or child - is conditioned for the relational and learning possibilities. Anyhow, you shouldn't have gotten me started...

Point is, although it wasn't what I considered a core part of my motivation to go to Cornerstone, teaching that little mob of precious kids was a beautiful gift to me from God. And every teacher prays that they might be just that to the little ones - and big ones - in their care.

Before ringing the lunch bell on my Pera Bore CCS reflections, I need to put down two little incidents that keep popping their way into my consciousness. One was during dictation. As I walked the classroom, the foulest of smells met my nostrils. I circled slowly, homing in on the culprit. Finally, with nose hovering in the general area, I decided Harmony Kemp (sweet, innocent Year 4 girl) was The Origin of the Stench. Tenderly I asked, "Harmony, do you need to go to the toilet?" "No", she sweetly answered. "That's cos you already have!" thought I. "Maybe it's this." She offered me a decoration off her desk - a beautiful posy of daisies and...GIDGEE! All I can say is that the next time you are tempted to take a whiff of gidgee, keep a Dunlop volley with dog poo on the ripple sole close at hand to smell as relief. Remarkable! (It was a wet year, and the gidgee really stinks up when rain is imminent. Poor Harmony.

Final little recollection. My fabulous Fairlane turned out to be a frightening Fiasco. What I bought as in Ideal Bush Car died and rested where it stopped (but I'll save that story...) I was pretty dejected about not having a car - especially seeing as how it only lasted until about April... The children at school were most sympathetic and when my birthday rolled around they knew just what it was I wanted. They all pitched in some pocket money and bought me...a car! A matchbox car. I remember Richard Bullock's delighted face as my disappointment about my car-lessness was re-ignited by their...thoughtful... gift. Funny thing was, a bunch of kids giving me a toy car helped me realise that my fairlane was just a toy car. Things are just things - people, and the purposes and plans and ways of the Lord, are what really matter. Let the toy go. Live in the freedom and security of God's car-less plan for you. I probably never really said a proper thank you for their generous gift. So if you're reading this, any of you 9... thanks. (The youngest, Josh Bowen, must, by my reckoning, be nearing 30 by now...!)

Anyhow, it seems like this installment has turned into the WORK/SCHOOL installment... Not the typical up-at-dawn, cajole the farm car into life, roll along the red road down onto the flood plains of Darling farms Cornerstone work story. (I got my chance in the school holidays. Still remember some of the conversations we had between rows of cotton or wandering behind the smouldering stick picking cage...) But I know that the work component of our Cornerstone experience not only served a practical purpose of supporting us and feeding us, it created a collision course for learning and life. Work doesn't fill the gaps between the "real" stuff - we learnt that, no matter how menial, it's all part of the main event - the disciple's walk of following Jesus.

Part 4 - the final for now - follows soooooooon!

Colin’s Cornerstone Blog Part 2

Tue, 4 Sep 2007 11:36:07 +1000

Had a chance to follow up - rush of blood? I wonder how far I'll get - my first 2 posts have covered about 4 days or so... We were with Cornerstone for 2 years...

With the decision made to head to Cornerstone, planning was well under way by late '87. We had friends to rent our house in South Hurstville (the soon-to-be-wed Linda (Vincent - arrgh! another one!) and Mark) and I had boldly tendered my resignation at St George Christian School.

Well, at first I tended my not-so-bold request for 2 years leave without pay. Keep the options open. i suppose in my head I could see a crossroad that perhaps I'd return to. One road signposted "The Great Unknown" and the other "A career in teaching in which you climb the ladder and live in Hurstville and perhaps become a principal one day". (Big sign...) St George came back suggesting I resign and see what happens after the Bourke diversion. In hindsight, perhaps they felt better about Colin being indefinitely in the Great Unknown than on an inevitable re-collision with their school! So there really was something final about leaving what was to become the only real job I have ever had since 1987. Mind you, the fanfare send-off was never to be - I contracted German measles 2 days before the end of school and spent my send off in bed.

It's a curious thing being a couple married only a year and a half and watching your house - your (recently-purchased nice federation conveniently located on a level block) house - shed furniture, pictures and trappings as they drift into storage, leaving a 34cm TV on a milk crate and a mattress on the floor... So this is what we were talking about on the verandah with Laurie...? So when early January finally rolled around, in the sleepy dawn of a new year, in the darkness of a not-yet-started day, we had whittled our worldly possessions down to an obscenely full 1969 V8 gold Ford Fairlane rolling up Halstead St - never to return to that quaint 80 year-old cottage.

And ahh...the Fairlane. Whenever Robyn feels I need a dose of humility, she brings that up. I have since made a policy of NEVER buying a vehicle with the price and O.N.O. (Or Nearest Offer) written on a piece of paper sticky-taped to the back window. I thought it would be a great bush car. We sold the 3 year old, in great condition Laser and bought The Heap. It was cool - had mags. It had a vibe - you could fit a family in the boot. It growled - listen to that V8. It was gold. It was a classic - a classic heap of junk. And it was totally my idea to buy it - it was our chariot to the outback. But it never got back. Only just got us there.

So we managed to make it to Bathurst in time for McDonald's breakfast - a pre-10.30am highlight! (Back in '88, Macca's breakky's were a new thing.) Just west of Bathurst, Robyn at the wheel, we swung into a sweeping right-hander and the stupidly overloaded combined with the floppy, nearly dead shocks to throw us into a serious death-wobble. Thankfully Robyn managed to pull the car up. She was in tears. I was seriously shaken. And she didn't drive that car for the rest of the trip.

As we pushed on towards the flat bits of inland Australia, the tally of miles (the speedo was in miles per hour) climbed. So did the temperature gauge. We managed to limp into Nyngan, steam billowing from under the bonnet. We made our way to the Nyngan Radiator Guy. He asked where we were going. We said, "Bourke." He said, "Why would you go there?" I wanted to ask, "Why would you go here?!" But he was our landline to completing the trip. While he removed and fixed the radiator, we took in the sights of Nyngan - on foot. By the time we were back on the road, the economy of Nyngan had received a welcome injection of city-dude dollars and we'd depleted our two-year nest egg of cash. And the Fairlane still had a trick or two up its sleeve.

But we made it - the flat, straight, punctuted-by-Byrock-and-Coolibah two hour bolt down the home stretch to Bourke. Through our 1988 home town - we'd become familiar with the brick post office, the fibro Bourke Christian Church, Brown's garage, the goat paddock by Polygnum Swamp, the bendy, jangly-bolted timbers of the North Bourke Bridge, the shanty opposite the pub, the bullet-holed sign at the turnoff to Wanaaring, the lip of the bitumen that launched your car onto carnivorous corrugations of the Wanaaring Road proper...

And there, in the heat haze, on the right, the dust and sheep of Simpson's shearing shed. Not Cornerstone, but nearly. Then the rattle of the tortured suspension subsided, the thrumm of heading over the grid, under the timber Pear Bore sign, past the rusty water tank and up the drive. Unchanged since the previous Easter, here we were. Home. The big V8 clicked and contracted under the bonnet as we shut the doors and walked into the western chapter of our family history.

I don't remember the run of day one entirely. I don't recall the faces and names and order of introductions. But I do recall Grant Jenkins asking if I wanted to go and check out Simpson's shearing shed - which was in full swing. So we climbed the fence and made the short walk across the paddock towards the hum of the engine running the shearing gear. Past the jostle of bulging, fully-fleeced, pre-shorn sheep and, comically sliding down the shoots from inside the shed, their stark white, blood-flecked post-shorn half-their-original-size brethren. It was the full sensory experience. I had been in a bush band, and sung., "All amongst the wool boys, all amongst the wool!" and "A lot of Lachlan tigers, it's plain to see we are..." and "...and they'll know I'm a ryebuck shearer!" But this was my first time in a working shed. It was like a homecoming.

Only thing was, something gave the game away. Soon as I walked through the door. Was it the camera around my neck? The fluro Mambo city boy surf gear? Maybe it was. In the world of blue singlets and grey King G's this wasn't a visitor. This was an Attraction. I managed my most masculine, growly, deep chested "G'day." One of the shearers stopped. Friendly fella.

"Where you from?"
"Sydney"
(Interested) "Yeah? What part of Sydney?"
"Hurstville"
(A little more interested) "Really? What part of Hurstville?"
(Colin thinks, "Wow, he knows Hurstville.") "South Hurstville."
(Now enthusiastic.) "South Hurstville! What street?"
(Now Colin's getting excited.) "Halstead Street"
(He's getting excited, too.) "y'kidding? Halstead Street? What number?"
(Colin can't believe it.) "Number 18. Just down from the timber yard."

Just then a rouseabout, broom in hand, sweeps his way through the middle of our conversation. Without even looking up, he dryly says, "He's never been out of bloody Bourke!"
The shearer winks, and gets back to work... Yes, I think. We are 9 hours from Sydney. We are in another world.

Narelle Pfeiffer offers some of the new kids a run down to Simpson's place to swim in the Darling. We pile into a dilapidated, unregistered, non-mufflered farm car. It's blue and white (nothing is really white around here - pinky dusty reddish ex-white is about as close as it gets.) David Acason is there. We arrive and all slip into our swimming SHORTS. Except Colin. He slips his Mambos off to reveal his speedos. Perfectly reasonable, practical, quick-drying and completely socially-acceptable (in Hurstville). for the second time that day I am reminded I'm in a place where things are Done Differently. Most of our carload of swimmers are from the bush, and I think their version of skimpy bathers is cutting off their jeans above the knees. All those cruel speedo-related euphemisms came out. Budgie smugglers and the like. I slipped the boardies back on. When in Rome...

But I loved the rope swing, the refreshing waters of the Darling River, and the chuckling beginnings of friendships destined to experience the bumps and thumps, the hair-pulling, tear-sharing, word-learning, please-forgive-me, let's-be-all-for-Jesus-in-this of community life. And a rope swing is a good place to be on your first day of Cornerstone. Robyn and had grabbed the rope in Sydney and swung our way out across the western plains. And as the rope slipped from our grip, we were about to plunge into something we had no real idea about. That mix of thrill and chill and the mystery of muddy waters - who knows what they hold?

By the time the sun set over Wanaaring, we were settling into the Chesney van under the leaning timber and tin barn. The clang clang of the triangular metal dinner gong. The next year would be punctuated by that sound every day. All the new stuff was going to become part of the familiar rhythm of our lives... The red dirt, the farm cars, the gidgee trees, the tornado of bugs around the lights at night, the wood-fired donkeys for hot water, the geckos on the windows, the explosive fiery sunsets, the bus to church, the prehistoric washing machine...(put that one in for Robyn...)

The pods of the kurrajong tree scraped gently on the tin roof as we lay in bed - well, on our mattress, on the floor - and in a mixture of trepidation, anticipation and probably a little fear, gave it all to God again. The Idea had become reality. Our Cornerstone journey had really begun.

Part 3 of Colin’s Cornerstone Blog to follow...

Colin’s Cornerstone Blog Part 1

Mon, 3 Sep 2007 14:50:25 +1000

In 1988-89 my wife, Robyn, and I were involved in Cornerstone Community. I wrote a 4 part blog for their site recently and thought it may fit in here.

Hi ho friends. We're taking up Elvira's invitation in the Autumn Touchstone to pop in and reflect on our Cornerstone experience nearly 20 years back. (probably full of typos, but better out than in....?)

We grew up at St Giles Presbytrian Church in Hurstville, Southern Sydney. That fellowship grounded us so well in bible teaching and purposeful, ministry-orientated relationships, yet we felt that there was something missing in our Christian walk and experience. Billy and Margaret Vincent were special mentors and friends who had a happy, spiritually-vital home that enfolded us so wonderfully as part of the furniture. Andy was the first Vincent to head west to Bourke, followed by Wally the next year. With Billy and Margaret's encouragement during the Easter break of 1987, Robyn and I headed to Pera Bore to check out this Cornerstone joint out, meet Laurie and see first hand what it was that had so deeply and positively left its mark on the Vincent boys.

I had done enough bushwalking to know what it's like to get intimately aquainted with dust - but I'd never been west of Bathurst. I'd never seen the outback first hand, was working as a second-year-out Year 3 teacher at St George Christian School. And as for Robyn, she was a suburban girl through and through! She had been working as a PA to high-flying partners in city accounting firms, and her sphere of competence existed in a world of pavement, high rise, air conditioning,word processing, inboxes & outboxes.

In we rolled, under the wooden "Pera Bore" arch and over the grid in the little Red Ford Laser (why did we ever sell that car...?) Immediately the romance and mystery of the outback grasped me as I enthusiastically declared, "Robyn, we have arrived. This is the land of Lawson and Patterson, the sunlit plains are extended as if to embrace us, this wild place is where, out of red desert sand, will flow spiritual refreshment and renewal. O Pera Bore, two new children come to your oasis..." Actually, that's not true. I thought, "What a dusty, God-forsaken HOLE!" (In a rare moment of discretion, I said NOTHING - I figured if this is what dirt-acquainted Col was thinking, what on earth would hig-heeled Robyn be thinking...! Perhaps I may have squeaked a lame, "Wow, isn't this great....?")

We were met by a scattered bunch of outbuildings - some as old as time itself, others with a distinct "bought from a mine, put on a truck and plonked in Bourke" feel. Some were ringed by a defiant carpet of green grass, others sat right on the red dirt. A friendly peppercorn or two provided some merciful shade. The grey-green of saltbush filled in the gaps, punctuated by rusting machinery, dilapidated motor vehicles and dust-tinted caravans. One or two rough-barked gidgee trees provided the closest link between land and sky, reaching their arms aloft, their thin leaves ready for the slightest hint of rain to release their sweet, sewerage-scented aroma. If you do a google images search on "dusty, God-forsaken HOLE" it heads the list of results.

Why the painstakingly ponderous description? Our Cornerstone journey was just so unlikely. We didn't fit. Like Israel, there seemed, on the surface at least, nothing to attract us to it or it to us. But who can drive through the gate without noticing the old Austin bus - another relic! But there on its dusted behind was painted the dangerous, delicious, enticing words - "Let your natural life be spiritual and your spiritual life be natural." It was no mistake that bus was parked there that day we drove in. It was no mistake it was parked rear-to-gate that day. Off the back of my reflex first impression God got to work - within seconds I'd read the sign - like you read a soft drink ad on the back of the bus at the lights on King Georges Rd. And I got the first, on-the-ground pangs of thirst for that sort of life-wide, self-forgetting, easy-yet-confronting faithfulness.

We were shown to our room - the details have become sketchy over time. Was it a suite on the 9th floor? Did it have a spa bath? Full room service? Wireless internet and in-room movies on demand? Actually, no. I remember now. It was a 4 berth pop-top parked in the dirt next one of the houses. (But it did have power.)

So what did the weekend of discovery hold for us? For me, it held an unfolding conviction that began to obscure the unfamiliar, primitive surroundings. Perhaps they just helped throw me off balance enough to open my head and heart to possibilities that may have seemed more outrageous over a hot chocolate in a city cafe.

One highlight happened at dawn in front of the schoolhouse, when I witnessed first-hand the bus slogan in action. We rose with the cotton chippers to see them on their way in the morning. But first, they prayed. "Lord, fill us with your Holy Spirit, so as we go out with our hoes amongst the cotton, that we'd chip for you, we'd fill our minds with your thoughts, season our conversation with your words, do our menial, repetitive labour as sold-out disciples of Jesus..." Hang on, they weren't about to fill in for Billy Graham at Maddison Square Gardens - they were about to do some insignificant, inconsequential weeding...! But maybe there is no insignificant in the Kingdom of God... Maybe this is what life-wide looks like...

The business end of the whole trip happened over a cup of tea on Laurie McIntosh's verandah. We asked questions about the ins and outs of how the Cornerstone thing worked and told our story as the warm autumn wind drifted gently in from the claypan and headed south. "It seems to me, Colin, you're a bit like the rich young ruler. You're standing at a crossroad, and Jesus is saying, "Will you do it? Will you take the plunge and seek first the Kingdom of God and His rightreousness by embarking on this adventure?" Laurie was saying, "Where's the risk in doing this for Jesus? What do you stand to lose? You've already lost everything - the human, finite, see-and-touch, of-my-own-doing everything - when you came to Jesus. Now all you have is Him. So take the logical step, go deeper, discover more of what it means to be His." A cuppa with Laurie McIntosh can be a dangerous thing.

We drove out the gate of Pera Bore with an unnerving possibility stretching out before us. This place could well be our home in 1988. I think before we hit the tar at the eastern end of the Wanaaring Road I was feeling the conviction that God wanted us to do just that. There aren't many times in my life when I have felt that sort of subjective conviction about a non-absolute, non-moral life decision - when I could say, "I really think God wants me to do this thing." But in my mind, it was destination Bourke '88. And I was so grateful in '87, and '88, and '89 - as I am even now as I write this nearly 20 years on - that it was a conviction God graciously gave to Robyn as well. So when we drove up a darkened, pre-dawn Halstead St the following January, and as we faced all the challenges that go with making adventures authentic, we could both say, "God wanted us to do this, nothing we've experienced has changed that - so with Your help, God, may we press on in our Cornerstone adventure - for You..."

What a rambling prequel from a Cornerstone Pera Bore '88 student! Perhaps it will go no further - blogs have a habit of doing that. But I always enjoy chewing over that Easter weekend in 1987. It was an insignificant couple of nights spent in the backblocks of Bourke by a couple barely a year into married life. But what a turning point. What rich blessings have come our way since then. What tales there are to tell!

PART 2 to follow...

ROSES FROM TULIPS - Why I love reformed theology

Mon, 3 Sep 2007 13:55:55 +1000

Sutherland Shire Christian School Staff Meeting
Wed 29th August, 2007
Colin Buchanan

ROSES FROM TULIPS

• PU R POSEFULLY BIBLICAL
• W O RLDLINESS-EXPOSING
• S OVEREIGNTY CENTRED
• GLORY-DIR E CTED
• PRAI S E-PRODUCING

We kicked off with a couple of songs, Jen on keys and me on guitar…
You Are My King
Jesus, name Above All Names
In the Beauty of Holiness
And finished with…
In Christ Alone

ROSES From TULIP or
Why I love Reformed Theology

I was asked by my old mate Nicola to give an address to the staff at our school, Sutherland Shire Christian School, intended as a follow-up to 3 substantial talks on the Five Points of Calvinism. She wanted to fill in a little of the “so what?” in terms or life and teaching and ministry among kids.

These are my notes from which I spoke. Giving a 40 min talk to teachers after a blood sugar-depleting day in the classroom – now that’s a tough gig! I really didn’t want to waste their time. Anyhow, it was a helpful process for me and I received some good feedback, so, I thought it fitted the God etc blog brief…

PREAMBLE

I started by recapping on the 5 points of Calvinism, remembered by the acronym TULIP.

T Total Depravity / Radical Depravity

Rm 3:10-11
There is no one righteous, not even one;
There is no one who understands
No one who seeks God.

We are not as bad as we could be, but someone said every person has an infinite capacity for de-provement.

U Unconditional Election

Romans 9:18
Therefore God has mercy on whom He has mercy, and He hardens whom He wants to harden.

Romans 8:29
For those God foreknew (chose) he also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of His Son

The basis of God's election is God's gracious, undeserved, redeeming love to some.

L Limited Atonement / Particular Redemption

If the work of the Cross is a bridge it is not a wide bridge that goes half way across the chasm, it is a narrow bridge that reaches all the way to salvation.
Everything God sets his mind to do He achieves. The death of Jesus wonderfully achieves all God powerfully and graciously intended. (PS My mate Pato gave me this one after the event: “Jesus got what He paid for.” Nice one, John.)
Isaiah 53:8
…for the transgressions of my people he was stricken.

John 6:37
Everyone the Father gives to me will come and all who come I will never drive away.

I Irresistible Grace / Efficacious Grace

2 calls – The General call of "Repent and believe!" which, to be obeyed by faith, requires the specific call of God the Holy Spirit, a work that always results in salvation.

Romans 1:6-7
You also are among those who are called to belong to Jesus Christ...called to be saints."

John 6:44
No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him.

John 11 is a great picture of election. Jesus calls Lazarus, who has been dead 4 days, to come forth from the tomb. And he does! It’s a picture of us, dead and decaying and helpless in sin, made alive only by the electing love of God.

P Perseverance of the Saints / Persevering Grace / Eternal Security

Doesn't mean...

- Christians experience no spiritual danger as they follow Christ
- Christians are always kept from falling into sin
- People who profess Christ without being actually born again are secure

Jeremiah 31:3
I have loved you with an everlasting love.

Romans 11:29
God's gifts and His call are irrevocable

INTRODUCTION

I've entitled my little talk ROSES FROM TULIPS, subtitled
What has attracted me to Reformed Theology - DOG (my shorthand for Doctrines Of Grace) centred Theology and how has that affected how I approach life in general as well as, specifically working to share the truth with children and families.

At his point, I would love an acrostic, which the dictionary defines as:
a poem, word puzzle, or other composition in which certain letters in each line form a word or words.

This definition is one of the big discoveries of preparing this talk. How many convoluted acrostics have been sweated over in pastor's studies because they thought you could only use the first letter! Tell your pastor – stop sweating on the acrostic and spend your time on the content! So my acrostic keeps the floral theme:
ROSES

I will explain as we go. But first, I need to get some things off my chest.

WHAT I DON’T LIKE ABOUT THE REFORMED MOVEMENT

I don’t want to dwell on it, but I as a movement (not the theology itself) there are a few things I don’t like about the reformed movement – too many cardigans; too many engineery accountancy types and not enough creative, flighty types (we need more fiercely Calvinistic filmmakers and artists); The Emperor’s New Clothes Syndrome – where it can be very hard to admit, hey, "I’m just not getttin’ it! I don’t know what or who you’re talking about!” and related to that, invisible fences, often the product of personal preference, not of biblical precept, but still effective in keeping people out (or in); harshness; a polemic default; itchy trigger fingers on the doctrine gun with a guntower theology ready to blast foe and friend alike; and the fact that I struggle to grow a good chin beard and therefore get taken a little more seriously… you might be able to add some… With that off my chest, on we go!

What do I love about reformed truth? What do I love about Calvinism? What do I love about the Gospel of Jesus Christ? (Spurgeon called Calvinism "a nickname for the Gospel." He said that to preach the full, true Gospel was to be Calvinist, whether you know it or not.)

Here come the ROSES.

• PURPOSEFULLY BIBLICAL

All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the man of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.

2 Tim 3:16-17 is not a memory verse I ever sat down and learnt. It just soaked into my memory through countless sermons and bible studies. The aim isn't to be code keepers, or theology nerds, or into the cosy little reformed club. It's to know and grow as the God-breathed words of God teach us, rebuke us, correct us, train us in righteousness - that my life and your life might be coiled springs of God-sourced goodness, with minds swimming with the things of God, we're prone, ready to go, like the athletes waiting for the starter's gun.

Reformed theology has urged me to keep asking, “What does the bible have to say about that? Because that's what God has to say and His Word is the final word.” I have a mate who is a preacher who is constantly saying, "Look, test whatever I say against the Word. Chuck out any of it that's just from me."

I added PURPOSEFUL because I don't just want to have a bible veneer. (As an aside, an ipod is a great resource in filling your head with the things of God – there are so many great FREE resources on the web. www.9marks.org has great interviews with Christian leaders that are so challenging and nourishing. www.desiringgod.org has a wealth of material from John Piper. You can plug into so much vital, biblical reformed teaching.)

In the talk I listened to this morning John Piper urged me to be in the Word, so we don't just develop a "back pocket" ministry, where we start to say the same things over and over. We need to be much in the Word. Letting God refresh and challenge and seeing again and again the truths of our theology "in the wild" of scripture. Get surprised by grace to the nations in Jeremiah. Marvel at God's patience with His people in Hosea. See election stated marvelously in Ephesians.

The lions at Taronga Zoo are always asleep. But when you see a documentary and they are stalking and chasing and roaring and devouring - you'll think twice about even tapping the glass... Don’t be fooled into thinking of these truths as domesticated, safe. They have teeth – these are the Words of the living God.

How has that shaped my work among children?

I was in the UK performing recently, where conservative, Word-defending evangelicals are under siege from the culture, their denominations, even other evangelicals. Renegade Anglican Evangelical Richard Coekin encouraged me to keep using the phrase, "God says in His Word, the Bible..." Keep singing and quoting scripture. There is so much Bible-wallpapered OPINION. As teachers with a certain measure of authority over children, remind them that your speak God’s truth, God’s Word, not just your opinion.

Putting scripture to my songs or into musical memory verses has been one way I’ve attempted to keep the Word of God central.

Sometimes it's a memory verse: Isaiah 53:6
Song with words based on scripture passage: The Lord is King - Psalm 2
Song that takes a biblical concept and illustrates it or underlines it: Jesus' Supremacy in Jesus Rocks the World, God's Omnipresence in God Is Everywhere

How does the culture of seeking to be PURPOSEFUL BIBLICAL shape my life?
Be much in the word - at the coalface.
I find enormous gains in enjoying the richness of PURPOSEFULLY BIBLICAL ministries. Sitting under the Word at our local church. Reading. And listening. Plunge into that ocean of free, PURPOSEFULLY BIBLICAL resources out there. (A 45 min sermon neatly fits my morning bike rides. A drive to town is perfect for a 1 hour conference talk or interview.)

And grapple purposefully together – in car trips, over lunch, over coffee - about what it means to believe and live God's incredible truths.

ROSES – second letter.
• WORLDLINESS-EXPOSING

We live in an environment that is purposeful about lots of things, but being biblical - listening to God's instruction for life - does not rate highly.

QUOTE FROM DOCTRINES OF GRACE ABOUT THOUGHTLESS, PRAGMATIC ETC.

It's the other side of being PURPOSEFULLY BIBLICAL. It shows UNBIBLICAL, UNGODLY, WORLDLY EMPTINESS FOR WHAT IT IS.

Systematic theology, biblical thoroughness makes strategic attacks on the guerilla warfare of self and sin. It stamps out resistance wherever it pops up. Our great enemy is self, and Calvinism walks boldly into the very throne room of the world and declares, "You have nothing!" It shows how deadly a Christ-less life really is - that there isn't one righteous and the wages of sin is death, that there it is appointed for man to live once and after that face judgment.

This is not the stuff of Harvey Norman ads, Footy Club Trivia Nights, an investment unit, a boat in the drive and a six-figure super fund. The world won't take you there. The world will keep you sleeping. Satan has a thousand medications to do that, from African violet clubs to mountain bike shops. God's word, catalogued, ordered, carefully arranged by theme and nuance, has the antidote for every shade of worldliness. Being Gospel-Centred is worldliness-exposing.

But further to that, even within the seemingly safe confines of the Christian community, reformed theology has a potency for flushing out worldliness with the Living Word, which divides joint and marrow.

ILLN When you drive to see Uluru - Ayres Rock - you first see a dark shape looming on the horizon and the inevitable call goes up, "There it is!" But it isn't The Rock - the closer you get the more you realise it's not quite the right shape. It's Mt Connor, at Curtin Springs. About an hour's drive on, The Real Rock looms up, in a way so impressive and more majestic you wonder how you ever could have mistaken the two. Mt Connor is not a mullock heap. But tens of thousands of tourists do not flock to Mt Connor. It's Uluru they come to see. And my guess few are disappointed.

There is a raft of Christian-tagged options out there that takes a pinch of one or more of those "isms" to create a gospel PLUS which isn't a gospel at all. There is propositional truth to believe and defend and proclaim - not just a vibe to enjoy, or a tradition to preserve, or a ritual to perform.

When it comes to following Jesus, I want the real thing. I came home last night – a clear, cloudless night – and my daughter was watching the TV. I said “Turn it off,” she said, “But they’re about to do a live coverage of the lunar eclipse.” I said, “Well if you come outside and look up, there’s a life coverage on right now in the sky!”

When it comes to following Jesus, I want the real thing. I want to purposefully follow His Word so I don’t settle for a one-dimensional, shrunk-down, 68 cm representation of a truth that is thousands of kilometres wide and fills me with wonder and compels me to obey (and puts me in my place.)

ILLN When we were extending our house, we originally thought we'd go 2 storey on the back. Until we got the quote. So we thought we'd compromise and basically got the draftsman to rub out the top floor and keep our options open. When we showed it to the engineer, he said, "It's nice, but the only problem is it'll fall down." His formulas, calculations, experience told him it was structurally unsound.

Your theology must do that for you. Reveal error, help you see when the structure of what you're being taught is sound and solid in Jesus.

And because reformed theology doesn't shy away from sin, we find the same light and truth that exposes falsehood and sin in the world and among the church also exposes our own hearts to the penetrating and humbling work of the Holy Spirit as we are convicted of sin and fall again on the robust, unshakeable grace of God in Christ.

How does this affect the way I approach teaching kids?
They are, like me, being seduced every day by the world. Don't shy away from exposing the lies of the world, which so easily become presuppositions and lifestyles and shipwreck souls. Be wise in pulling into the slipstream of their interests, but bring tender, worldliness-exposing truth.

A couple of my songs that I’ve sought to do that in…
The Greatest Treasure – isn’t stardom, wealth, stuff – it’s peace with God.
The Things of the Lord – “The stuff of this world is gonna be trashed, Only the things of the Lord will last.”

In life?
Seeing life through the grid of the Word. Listening, reading, thinking, grappling, changing what you thought and did to conform more to Jesus. And wresting with the deadly worldliness of my own heart.

(Satan has 2 lies - God is bad and Sin is Good.)

ROSES – next letter ‘S’

• SOVEREIGNTY CENTRED
God is King of All
The Doctrines of Grace highlight the rule of God in all things by specifying His rule in the process of salvation.

I am by nature a sovereignty-rejecter. (Except when it comes to the false king of self.) The scriptures confront me again and again with the Sovereign God - Lord of Creation, Lord of His People, Lord of the Nations, Lord of Salvation, Lord of Eternity.

ILLN I love google earth - first experience when David Stonestreet sent me an email containing a satellite photo of my house, so detailed you can see the clothes line. You open the program and there's the sphere of the earth, hanging in space. Impressive, but if that is as far as it went, we'd soon conclude there wasn't much to it. Type in my address, and the world turns (away from the US, the known centre of the universe) and zooms and tilts and first there's Asia-Pacific, then Australia, then down to Sydney, and finally we're in to the street and the house and the clothes line.

The Scriptures do not leave us hanging in space when it comes to what God has done in the gospel and therefore what we might understand of this and how we might respond appropriately.

Piper says in his book, Preaching and the Sovereignty of God, that he deliberately decided not to apply a particular sermon but used it to underline and re-underline God's Sovereign rule of all things. Afterwards a couple who had experienced great hardship with one of their children came to him and thanked him for the specific help the truths had been to them in their suffering. Why is that? Because God's rule is a comfort beyond measure for those who rest in His unfailing love, held by His everlasting arms.

In ministering to kids, it's a wonderful truth that they seem able to appropriate better then adults. Just trust. He's King.  Jesus commeded that reflex in children and told us to be like that.

He rules His Word - he achieves what He intends through its proclamation. I need be faithful and leave the results to Him.

He rules my health, my wealth, my poverty, my career, my family, my relationships, my nation. He can and will do as he pleases and it will always be good for his children. (Romans 8:28) It may take a while, but they'll see it.

ILLN
An Aussie girl came 5th in the semis of the women's hurdles last night in Osaka and missed out on the finals - she was so crushed. All that training, all that sacrifice, all that pain. But the commentator consoled her "You've come such a long way. You should be proud of that." She replied, "I know I'll come to see that, but I'm just living in the moment right now and all I can see is the disappointment."

God's rules the deep and dark events of our lives by the same sovereignty that has ordained the inevitable glory and happiness shared for eternity by every suffering saint. His rule is a comforting truth, gloriously seen in His rule over salvation.

When David texted me the in the early days of being diagnosed with leukemia, he used the term “dark providence.” In his bleakness and heartache, he was reminding me and him that our God is sovereign. No one has ever texted me braver words. Their truth dwarfs David’s bravery.

In working with kids, what does sovereignty-centredness look like?

Sin has its root in pride, and pride is the self-affirming, God-denying rejection of His sovereign rule. We ought to keep underlining that God is King of All.

So many songs in the popular genre are love songs - again and again and again. I think sovereignty can afford to be the recurrent theme of what we say and show and reinforce to children about God. There is sovereignty in the call of the gospel - Bend the knee to the God who rules you. There is sovereignty in the walk of faith - He works in you and through you to achieve His good purposes.

10, 9, 8 -- simple
Remember the Lord
The Lord is King

• GLORY DIRECTED
God does all things for His own glory.

Illn. It's like a welcoming parade for the first graduate of SSCS to climb Mt Everest. Guest of honour at the assembly. Andrew introduces the mountaineer - "We are honoured to have with us the first ex-student to climb Everest!" One infants kid says to another, "What's an Everest?"

But tell that little one about the tallest Mountain in the world, about the perils of the ascent, about those who have lost their fingers and limbs and lives and minds trying to get to the top of that mighty mountain, and the guest of honour suddenly means more and more to them. Show them pictures, tell the stories, state it one way, then another. Capture them, and they will start to get what it is this ex-student has done and they will start to give them the honour they deserve.

Discovering what God has really done in salvation is a thrilling path to His glory, because the more you unpack the truths from scripture, the more you see it's all of Him. You see the depth of our sin that warrants his eternal and terrifying wrath. You see the that it isn't hopeless for mankind - for me. You see that the hope of sins forgiven isn't a spiritual equivalent of a Willy Wonka Golden Ticket, or getting the most votes on Australian Idol, or qualifying for the Olympics.

There is an effective call of God and on the basis of His grace in Jesus He saves sinners. They take no credit. It is not a game of chance. It is ruled and wrought and revealed by God. The cross is a perfect fit for the people of God, and every sinner He saves are kept by Him for all eternity.

Who gets the glory for that?

Reformed theology for me has amplified and qualified what can become just phrases - salvation, justification, saved - and turned them into vital reasons to honour Jesus. And I believe it makes as much sense NOT to enjoy reformed theology as it does to NOT enjoy chocolate. It is inherently sweet; it is a treat - truth from God that will bring us to Him in praise and adoration.

What we believe should be glory-directed because

“For from him and through him and to him are all things.
      To him be the glory forever! Amen.” Rm 11:36

“to the only wise God be glory forever through Jesus Christ! Amen.” Rm 16:27
The place of God’s glory in working with kids and in your own life?

Perhaps this has a more inward manifestation - this whole endeavour is about God's glory, not mine. I exist to make much of Jesus, not to have Him make much of me. The great outcome is not our reputation, our vital stats - HSC results, references, qualifications, title, salary. It is not whether the kids like me or not (although if they don't, it may not be because you're glorifying God!)

Faithfulness to God brings glory to Him. It's all about Him, not all about me. And there is nothing more thrilling and soul-affirming and heart-warming than to forget yourself and get deliciously caught up in His glory. It’s a glory you will physically be consumed by and enjoy in God’s very presence one day. Let’s get used to getting off on God’s glory.

Final letter in my acrostic – ROSE-S

• PRAISE-PRODUCING

Let me underline and conclude reading the wonderful words of Psalm 24

Psalm 24
1 The earth is the LORD's, and everything in it,
       the world, and all who live in it;
2 for he founded it upon the seas
       and established it upon the waters.
3 Who may ascend the hill of the LORD ?
       Who may stand in his holy place?
4 He who has clean hands and a pure heart,
       who does not lift up his soul to an idol
       or swear by what is false. [a]
5 He will receive blessing from the LORD
       and vindication from God his Savior.
6 Such is the generation of those who seek him,
       who seek your face, O God of Jacob. [b]
       Selah
7 Lift up your heads, O you gates;
       be lifted up, you ancient doors,
       that the King of glory may come in.
8 Who is this King of glory?
       The LORD strong and mighty,
       the LORD mighty in battle.
9 Lift up your heads, O you gates;
       lift them up, you ancient doors,
       that the King of glory may come in.
10 Who is he, this King of glory?
       The LORD Almighty—
       he is the King of glory.