Attacked, silenced, ignored, because you spoke up?

There are two sides to controversy; the side of peace and the side of truth. Those committed to peace, no matter what, may find all manner of excuses to skirt the issues. Those committed to truth, no matter what, may find all manner of reasons to combat every dubious matter.

But do peace and truth really reside there, in those camps? Honouring lies gives no real peace. There is certainly truth in not entering contentious debates where love ran clear from those buildings long ago.

But there does come a time to speak up. There is an occasion for clearing one’s throat and readying one’s voice. There is an opportunity for each of us as the world opens its window in anticipation of what we have to offer.

We don’t always take the opportunity that is offered. Sometimes it’s fear, and at other times we’re not sure if our discernment is right, so we politely decline for further consideration. We want to be sure.

And then there are times when we are desperate to speak; to take our place in the public square. We know it’s not easy, but the burden to speak for justice outweighs the fears we have to protect ourselves.

Having discerned truth and knowing that we can be at peace for deciding to enter a controversy, even if the conflict leaves us estranged to peace, we enter under the cover of much prayer.

So, then we say something. It might not sound like much. But people listen. Some are thankful. Others are livid. 

Whether you’re attacked or not, you may feel attacked. Whether you’re silenced or not, you may feel silenced. And whether you’re being ignored or not, you may well feel ignored.

Voices that speak the truth are not automatically given a stage before a cast of a thousand adoring fans. Most often it’s the complete opposite; attraction has been brought to the elephant in the room, and most people, whether they agree with us or not, are muttering under their breath, “Far out, why that… here… now?” Most people, basically all people, most of the time or all of the time prefer their peace, even if it comes with a dash of falsehood, laced with a lie.

Much of my life I’ve been an evangelist for reporting truth, usually as a safety guru who has uttered “you must report incidents” thousands of times.

One thing we must acknowledge is there are some things that people (all people) value having reported, but there are also some things that some people do not value being reported.

But if we’re committed to God, we’re duty bound to report what needs to be reported, so that in justice prevailing we see accounts being called, reparations made, issues reconciled, learning gleaned. If love is to abound, truth must win, for why would we waste our time with falsehood (unless we’re motivated by what we can get out of it).

If a ‘thing’—any kind of thing—happened, it happened, and it ought to be called for the fact that it happened. And if it happened and we found ourselves pressed from within not to ignore it, as we shouldn’t ignore it, and we prayed about it, and finally found the courage to speak up about it, then we can still be quite surprised that in speaking up we get responses that we would hardly expect to get—including the responses that even our own minds generate.

Speaking up, whilst it’s a duty in many cases, is fraught with all kinds of danger, because we’re vulnerable, especially given that we traffic in fear. It makes good sense to want to protect one’s self. None of us enjoys pain.

So, if when you spoke up, you were or felt attacked, chided, silenced, or ignored—or there was some other kind of response—you will feel especially vulnerable and anxious. This is the outworking of the fact that we hate feeling bullied.

God is the Lord of truth, and truth is the basis of justice, and justice is the basis of love, and love is the basis of life… this is why we’re commanded to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God (Micah 6:8).

We need to speak up, so truth is advocated for, so justice is advanced, so love is enacted, so life is experienced. That abundant life that Jesus offered to one and all, in his name.

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A prayer in godly sorrow for repentance

O God, my Saviour, Lord and King

I come to You desperately but passionately; highly motivated to set the record straight, not to clear my name, but to make right this wrong if at all I can; sorrowful not for myself, but for the other who I have wounded; with a heart happy never to be forgiven, completely at the mercy of the one I hurt, because I have no right to insist I be exonerated, but with the desire to reconcile.

This may not be a big thing to others, but I know it’s a big thing to the one I’ve hurt, and it’s a big thing to me, because it is wrong.

As I track back, I know I wasn’t in my right mind, even if I thought I was at the time; to see things as they were, misguided as much as I may have been, I’m sorry before You that I discerned it incorrectly. And even if I was in my right mind, I acted inappropriately. I should have known better.

My prayer, Lord, is for the one I hurt; that they would experience joy in abundance; not simply because they have received justice through this prayer of apology, but that You compensate them for the sorrow I caused. My prayer is that hope would rise, and that peace would return to them. May they receive the recompense of faith for the justice that has come to their door today.

I’m thankful, Lord, first and foremost, that Your Spirit has made the truth clear to me, and I’m even more thankful that You’ve done this sorry work in my heart; that the truth is more important to me than me saving face or not having to face the consequences. Only You could have done that work in my heart, and I’m supremely thankful that You have changed me for all time to seek justice, whatever the personal cost. I’m thankful that this burden has lifted and been transformed into the will to act so You would bring Your peace to them, and that in that, You are glorified.

So, I pray that today and tomorrow and for all the days coming; that You would give me the steps and the words and the heart underpinning all this, to make my apology and make good on the promise You’ve unfurled in my heart.

I pray that the apology I give will make the difference it needs to; that it will bring the freedom and release and peace that it needs to; that genuine and full recompense would be possible, and that their heart would know absolute relief. And give me compassion in the instance that they’re not instantly relieved.

I know Your Spirit goes before me, Lord. Help me if and when I’m tempted to defend myself; when my flesh gets in the way; help me to see if and when pride rises. Help me be solemn and insightful, and full of love and unswerving in my commitment to truth for serve the person I’ve let down.

I don’t pray for the future in this case, Lord. I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Help me stay in this present, where I know what to do; where my guilt has been transformed by You into the desire to act for justice; but I do pray I would not cause more harm.

Go with me, be with me, be with us, Lord,

In Jesus’ Name,

AMEN.

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How your abuser hurts you most

How your abuser hurts you most is how he makes your loved ones feel for the very fact he’s in your life. For the fact of how he makes you feel. For the fact that you stay with him when he mistreats you like he does.

For the facts of the pain he causes you in myriad ways, that always seem to catch you by surprise; some so cruel as if to cause maximum pain. And yet you can’t seem to end it.

For the facts of the vicarious trauma that your dear loved ones’ face as they ride the hellish journey with you, always willing to do whatever they reasonably can; it’s just that all viable options to act seem beyond their capacity to do, for they are thwarted. To do anything, or to say anything, would only hurt YOU more. And they want to reduce your pain, not increase it.

For the fact that they can see your health plummet and your state of being eroded by the month or week or day. They watch on, prayerful and hopeful, but with each concession to your abuser, that hope begins to wane, and they find themselves in that in-between place of holding unacceptable tensions as they seek to find some way to resolve it for themselves.

But just how does one reach a place of acceptance when a loved one is being abused?

Your loved ones want your relationship over, but they feel they can’t say a word. Anytime they try and say something it backfires. They feel completely hamstrung. Indeed, they may feel like you; immobilised and unable to act even though a thousand potential actions circulate through their minds constantly. And to add insult to injury, fleeting thoughts arrive for the joy this torment may give to your abuser: “That’ll teach them! Mess with me and you pay!”

So, the way your abuser hurts you most is something you may have often considered. 

It’s the vicarious impact of an ever-extending ripple of your pain into others’ lives you care most about, as they carry the tension and stress and ambiguous loss in themselves and on their own backs.

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So, the Lord told me… really?

Using God as a weapon. Ever been affected or impacted? Have you ever heard someone say to you:

“The Lord told me to tell you…”

“The Lord said to me that [this] is his will…”

“So, God told me that [what I’m saying] is gospel…”

“… so, God told me that [what you did or said] is rubbish…”

“You’re going to hell for that… [and/or] what you did is unforgiveable…”

“Don’t you remember what you said? You can’t fool God you know…”

“The Lord has called me to pray for you [when you know that that’s not good—when they’re using their ‘prayer’ to somehow control you]…”

When that happened, what did you think? Did you automatically rebuff them, or did what was said set you back where you began to unknowingly doubt yourself before your Creator?

The impact of what might seem a little thing said nonchalantly is usually bigger than we think it is. Just about every time we’re either too floored to respond or we may believe at least subconsciously that we’re out of step with God. Pangs of guilt rise instantly, and the person abusing God’s Word walks off having done Satan’s work, many times absolutely fooled that they’re an agent for God.

The pangs rise because, God-believer, there is a conscience for the things of God in you. It’s the one abusing the holy text, who walks away feeling powerful having ground you into dust, who is against the purposes of God, as they wreak havoc everywhere their tongue runs riot against the Kingdom prerogative.

The damage drives deep.

Abusive, so-called prophetic words linger in the soul. Our spirit languishes upon a word spoken and it penetrates deeply, and once that wound is formed, like a spur it drills into the abyss of our being. Once a word like this has gone in, it’s almost like an exorcism is needed to extract the toxin. These are like spoken curses and done in God’s name!

Even worse if it comes from someone in spiritual authority or the one in spiritual authority allows it to happen unchecked. A congregant who will spew this vile will almost certainly set themselves up against a people-pleasing pastor. The challenge will be set, for they thrive on the audacity of challenging for conquest. Or, they are cunning enough to ensure the pastor and other leaders are not in earshot. Again, that’s audacity.

The prophetic gifts need to be properly identified in a person by more than one spiritual leader, and these gifts need to be used with prayerful restraint for the building up of the body of believers.

Behaviour like spiritual abuse is very commonly minimised, where good people will most commonly doubt their right to question even an obvious abuse.

And what of the spiritual assassin? They reside in every church, I’m sure. Ultra-confident that they have the inside running on God’s exact desire, they have no idea or probably don’t care that they not only damage God’s name, but they execute their own judgement.

We need sentinels in the church who will quietly, respectfully though firmly and promptly call this verbal form of spiritual abuse for what it is. Yes, there are those, too, in every fellowship who will have an ear for spiritual rubbish.

It’s incumbent on every pastor to identify who within the fellowship bears these gifts, and to empower their use, equipping these people with the trust they need to begin to act.

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Sow Just Wisdom

What is this all about:

Sow (plant seed; disseminate) 

Just (only; only what is just) 

Wisdom (truth and love integrated).

Sow: in faith… the promise to keep planting, even in drought and famine, especially when there is no hope, for that is hope’s paradox; it’s only when we sow with no hope, which is zero hint of faith in a promise being kept, that we show true hope. 

This paradox is complete when we recognise that we stepped forward in faith with zero hope of being rewarded. To do THAT is to sow impeccably. True hope is not enticed by thought of reward. True hope decides to sow whatever the outcome… for truth… for love… because these are all that matter.

This commitment to sow, and to keep sowing no matter what, is based on the wisdom that believes, to love God we must honour truth. The more we love truth, the more we love God. And yet truth has no, or covers all, biases.

Just: that’s all. Only that. But also, that which is just. So, both meanings of the word. As I string all the experiences of my life together, the common thread is justice. But what I need to be from now on, at all times as a servant of God, is wisdom; just wisdom, and yet a just wisdom, of which, there is no other kind.

Wisdom: my thesis is that wisdom is the integration of truth and love perfected into one. Wisdom is God’s will, and, because it is the integration of truth and love perfected into one, it cannot betray either truth or love at any time.

It can certainly appear from many life situations that wisdom is beyond us, and in these cases, we must simply accept that we have given the best we have to offer. That, in and of itself, is wisdom exemplified; it honours that truth and love are so often beyond us, even as we would strive to reach them, humble enough to not be frustrated by our lack.

In this social media day, it’s such a serious temptation to dive into the minutia of controversy, because, well we all have a view, and because that’s where the traffic is. Everything is about engagement and brand and trends and chasing what’s viral. I’ve certainly been drawn into it.

But this is my stand. Now I want to sow just wisdom.

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How do I read my Bible?

I’m writing this for my mother. She’s getting her own Bible tomorrow and needs some tips on how to read it.

Well, of course, it’s not like a normal book; not to be read cover-to-cover, though some people have attempted it, and fewer still have achieved it. It might be okay for you readers, but I usually began to falter at about 1 Kings.

My suggestions for reading the Bible are these:

1.           Pick a Gospel, perhaps Mark because it’s written like a story, and spend an hour-and-a-half reading it right the way through. Just read it. Don’t stop and study it or take notes, unless you’ve got more time on your hands. Your goal is simply to read right to the end of the sixteenth chapter. If you want to learn about Jesus’ compassion for the marginalised, read Luke. If you want Jesus’ concise teaching, read Matthew. If you want to learn about the Son of God, read John.

2.           Okay, now go to the Old Testament and find Psalms; pick a psalm a day. Some are really long and others are ultra-short. Some are sad and others are full of joy. They are poetry and song. Learn to love the psalms. Read them when you’re connected emotionally or need emotional connection.

3.           Let’s go to Acts. Learn about the first 30 years after Christ ascended to be with the Father. Learn about the coming of the Holy Spirit. Discover Peter’s preaching in the first half, and Paul’s preaching in the second half. Make sure you don’t skip over Acts chapter 9, the conversion of Paul, or the conversion of the Ethiopian eunuch in chapter 8, or the first martyr, Stephen, in chapter 7—see the problem we have? Acts is a very rich book about the early Church and God’s power.

4.           Now where shall we go. Proverbs for wisdom. Ecclesiastes too, but a vastly different kind. And Job! Go there when life’s making no sense at all. Jeremiah, too. Oh yes, God knows all about our suffering.

5.           Okay, let’s dive into one of Paul’s letters. Want some joy despite your circumstances, then go to Philippians. Colossians. Ephesians. All written when Paul was imprisoned. They say Paul didn’t write Hebrews, but it’s such well written Scripture. If you’ve got time, 1 and 2 Corinthians (the tearful letter) are personal favourites.

6.           Where did it all begin? Go to Genesis: from creation, the Abrahamic covenant, through Abraham’s line all the way to Joseph. Long book. Very important book. The first five books are the Pentateuch, the books of the Law, or Torah. Exodus is the grand book of Moses, a crucial book for the Jewish people. Leviticus and Numbers, books of law and Mosaic history. Deuteronomy, the second telling of the Law.

7.           While we’re there, go with Joshua into the Promised Land. The history books of Samuel, Kings and Chronicles will take you a fair while to get through, but knowing Israel’s history, the divided Kingdom, and exile is interesting reading.

8.           Don’t forget Judges for some highly important theological observations, and the sinful nature of humanity when we’re poorly led or not led at all.

9.           Up for something different. Go to Revelation. Some pretty crazy visions, yet it gives us some idea of God’s passion for humanity, and the victory of the Lamb.

10.        The letters of John, 1, 2, 3, are black and white and commanding in what they say about truth and light and darkness and love.

11.        If you want to learn the knowledge of God, go to Romans. Spells out the story of grace.

12.        Lastly, the Prophets, both Minor and Major, will help you understand the waywardness of the people of God. But if you want hope, go to Isaiah 40-66, but don’t be surprised when you find hope even in places like Lamentations.

That’s enough for now.  

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The role of trust in protecting the vulnerable

Who is worthy of unequivocal trust in dealing with the vulnerable? Simple answer: nobody. No one is implicitly trustworthy to deal with the vulnerable without account.

Not one person is owed the power of trust without an equal and opposite accountability expected of them and, indeed, required of them.

If you have a child or know an adult who has been traumatised through abuse or have a child at any age with significant special needs. Are they vulnerable? Yes.

What about a woman in the company of a man with malevolent intent?

Or the man in the company of a woman with coercive intent?

A person in the company of a person with malicious intent?

Or, the worker who is coerced into a particular action to keep his or her job. It’s all the same. Vulnerable people or people in vulnerable situations.

When we think of people who not in the vulnerable set dealing with those that are, we see that there is a power imbalance that is potentially manipulated. We don’t have to view them as guilty as much as ensure even and strict standards apply to protect those who can’t be expected to protect themselves.

If it’s my child, I’m thinking everyone I trust to care for them is capable of treating them inappropriately, including family and best friends, let alone coaches and others. That makes me think twice about my actions regarding when and how I expose my child to their trust.

Why do I do this? One abuse is way too many. As a parent, I can’t afford any lapses on my own part. If you are the trusted adult I leave my child with, I’m cautious for their benefit, for yours, and for mine. Sorry, it’s the way it has to be. In fact, I retract the apology. It’s unnecessary. A child deserves safety.

It’s my experience that those who understand my safeguards are easier to trust. Those who wonder why I’m worried about protecting a vulnerable person are a concern. Those who get upset when I seek assurance for safety are least trustworthy.

Why is the global church in a sex abuse crisis right now? Probably for the same reasons it always will have been wherever the powers that be have a particular entitlement mentality and they have no serious accountability. Is the sex abuse only relevant to our present time? No, of course it isn’t. It’s always been there. Only now is it being exposed.

The narcissist leader or organisation will exploit vulnerabilities for the simple reason that they can. And some are brazen in their sense of entitlement, and doubly manipulative to betray the trust of those not only that they abuse, but also those who extend to them the power to abuse.

But let me get back to the role of trust in terms of work with the vulnerable.

If you have a child, what is your starting point for anyone who interacts with their little vulnerable life, who has power over them in terms of maturity, voice, physical and psychological power?

Do you implicitly trust them?

Knowing that 1-in-4 girls and 1-in-6 boys will suffer some form of sexual abuse before they turn 18. Knowing that even if they aren’t sexually abused in a particular scenario, they’re even more vulnerable to a misuse of power to verbally, mentally, emotionally or spiritually abuse them. Knowing what we do know about a section of our population. And knowing that most if not all have the capacity to abuse if wise systems of accounting aren’t in place and aren’t used properly. Yes, of course, many of us think even the thought of abusing another human being as abhorrent, but we cannot assume others think and will behave this way even if they say they do and will.

If you have ever heard of the ‘swiss cheese model’ you will quickly determine why there are occasionally air traffic disasters or medical procedures that go wrong. These are all due to a series of system failures that occur latently and human failures that occur at the point of incident. Now, in the case of abuse those who might exploit opportunities to abuse the vulnerable are let through, because of systems failures. They get through a system. Without its checks and balances.

A system designed to serve the vulnerable that doesn’t have a bias toward protecting them is abominable.

The role of trust in protecting the vulnerable is cut and dried in my view. The vulnerable require protection. They get the care and trust is always subservient to that.

In terms of risk, abuse of the vulnerable is such an unacceptable consequence, all likelihood of abuse should be eliminated, as far as possible and as far as that depends on us.

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When grace helps us accept what we cannot change

We all bear many things we cannot change, whether these things are about us or about others. This is an inevitable part of being human. We are stuck in a life that in many ways doesn’t work, within the overall glory of a life that is, as we are walking miracles, an absolute miracle.

So, how exactly does grace work in helping us accept what we cannot change.

Well, it’s a miracle and for me at least that cannot easily be explained—the how. But what to do is different. The ‘what’ is easy to lay out.

It’s simply about being able to see and acknowledge the truth.

We see that something is a pattern, that it’s been a pattern for a long time, or that it’s become a pattern, and we should expect the pattern to continue.

This is not to say that patterns cannot be broken. We can all shift a few patterns in our lives, but to say that any of us can change all the problematic patterns in our lives is, I think, unrealistic, and I think it attempts to rob something from the difference between God and humanity to make us more equal than we are. Humanity is not in control. Humanity is also inherently flawed.

Discipleship and growth are not just about changing things up. It is just as much, perhaps even more, about finding the grace to accept the things we cannot change.

There is a great amount of freedom in receiving the grace that accepts what cannot be changed in either ourselves or others. This, I believe, is the first portal of forgiveness.

Now, this is not necessarily about putting up with those things that can’t be changed, especially as it pertains to others.

If we cannot bear what another person does to us, or their behaviour impacts us toxically, we need to change the situation, but first we must be decisive about accepting that we cannot change them.

Indeed, the crucial first step is acknowledging they won’t change, that we cannot expect them to change, and then from there, we have a decision to make. Put up with it or move on. My experience with toxic dynamics in relationships is they don’t get better without radical intervention, and so just about every time they get worse. 

See what I mean about how necessary acceptance is.

And still so many decisions are incredibly hard to make because even in acceptance, there are significant downsides to good decisions.

People hang on for too long believing another person could change, and when they never do much damage has already been done. (Yet, I do know there are just as many striving for release and sadly they cannot seem to get free.)

Often, we can berate ourselves incessantly about a feature of ourselves that we cannot accept we can’t change. Maybe it’s how speak before we think, or perhaps it’s a habit we have that we hate, or it could a false narrative about our self-image that we think is true, but others say is not the case at all, but we cannot brings ourselves to see what they see. Or, there’s also the case of berating our situation for how perplexed we are that we cannot change it.

We disapprove of what we loath and despise about ourselves, but perhaps if we worked first on accepting what cannot at present be changed, we may find an easier, more innovative way to address the problem.

What we need first and foremost is the grace of Jesus’ love that helps us accept—be still and know that God is good—what we cannot change, and that that is okay. Then from that place of stillness often comes the miracle of movement—once we’ve taken the pressure down.

Change is not always about changing. Sometimes change is about accepting. And sometimes through acceptance, change then suddenly becomes possible. But acceptance comes first.

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God’s Presence, ESPECIALLY in the darkest valley

Five years ago, as many of you know, we went through the heartbreaking loss of our infant son. It wasn’t just that, though. It was a very difficult pregnancy that required my wife to undergo eight invasive procedures that each time threatened the life of our unborn. It wasn’t just that, either… there is whole other story there that would raise eyebrows.

As we look back, we’re often in disbelief as to how well we were held by God at the time—throughout… the tears, the constant uncertainty, the irreconcilable emotions, the stress, the exhaustion; yet also the prayers of hundreds if not thousands of people, and our own faith.

Like, how did we get through that time? We can only say it was our faith and others’ prayers. How else can we attribute it? We know that God promises to be with us in our darkest valleys, but really, is this what it feels like when God actually does it?

The witness of God’s Presence especially in our darkest valley was and still is irrefutable.

But then this morning, when we were doing some Spring cleaning, having found some heart shaped cards, I gave them to our six-year-old son to draw on. What he did with them surprised us both.

Later we found out that he’d taken them to his bedroom and had then taken down one of the three Bible verse coloured-in cards we have blue-tacked to the toilet wall. He had copied the words of Hebrews 13:5, “God has said, ‘Never will I leave you, never will I forsake you’,” onto the two heart-shaped cards, and placed his mother’s card right where you see it, depicted per the picture above.

This particular verse is very special to both my wife and me. I’ve written about how it is constructed in the Greek, and how much weight there is in the verse with five ‘no’ words in it, three normal negations, and two strong negations—the negations are the ‘no’ words. In effect, the proper rendering of the verse is more like, “Never, EVER will I ever leave you, never under any circumstances, EVER, will I forsake you,’ says the Lord.” This verse in the Greek has nine words; five mean ‘no’ and two of them mean, ‘definitely not!’ When we read this verse, we really must imagine God reassuring us that we have nothing but the full presence of the Lord, all ways, at all times, especially in our darkest valley experience (see especially Psalm 23).

Now, see where this card is placed in the photograph; against the photograph on my wife’s bedside table of us with both our sons.

My wife said to me, “Look at where he put it.” She interpreted it as our son being probably unaware of the significance of him placing his card against the picture like that. It’s a sign from God—“I was present with you!”

God knew. Even after five years, it brings us enormous comfort to know that God was there with us, in our clear and present danger. And that’s why we got through.

As it turned out, that Footprints in the Sand poem, where we see only one set of footprints, is true. We think those footprints are ours, that we’re completely alone; no, those footprints were those of God who carried us through the whole ordeal. We were literally carried by our faith and others’ prayers, and God was present, just as we were reminded today.