So, now I am an Australian resident 'for tax purposes' I need to fill out a tax return. The Australian financial year runs from July to June, so I'm a bit late with my 2009-2010 return. Actually, I was oblivious to the need to complete one until I received a letter from Centrelink about our Family Assistance benefits last week.
When you have the kind of financial arrangements that we have, filling out a tax return is pretty straightforward. However, I was a bit confused about what we do with gifts that we receive into our UK bank account. Did I have to declare those or not? I finally managed to talk to the Australian Tax Office this morning and they answered my questions very helpfully. They also gave the 'right' answer in that I'm no longer being threatened with a bill for unpaid taxes, instead we may be entitled to a refund. This may have some pleasant repercussions for other payments we receive as well.
Anyway, a couple of weeks ago a few of us men were talking about what it means to live a life of 'simplicity', which is one of the things that we aim for as a Christian community. Benedictine monks tooks vows of obedience, chastity and poverty. In Cornerstone we try and emulate these with the principles of obedience, purity and simplicity. Simplicity is a tricky concept to grasp. How does one live simply in a society where material needs are easily met? Is my DVD collection too big? Do I have too many clothes? What does it mean to live in simplicity where advertising gurus - knowing full well that our basic needs are met - generate a whole load of new needs by bombarding us with constant messages that we are incomplete unless we have this latest car, holiday, game, house, modern convenience or whatever?
So when I found out that we might be entitled to a refund, I suddenly became anxious about making sure I chased up everybody that I needed to chase up to ensure that we got all the money that we were 'entitled' to. On almost immediate reflection, I realised that I was violating Jesus' command to not worry. But instead of worrying about whether or not I would have enough to eat, I was suddenly worrying about making sure that I would get all that I was owed. It didn't seem a particularly pleasant place to be.
Sure, if I can claim money that the government has decided that I am entitled to, then I am certainly going to do that. But there was that thread of anxiety which troubled me a bit. It seemed more like greed. Paul, of course, knew what it was to be content in all circumstances - whether hungry or full; clothed or naked; tax-billed or tax-refunded. To me, and this came out in the discussion that we had, simplicity has at its heart the idea of contentment; that my tax status was not to intrude in any measure on the peace of my heart. There was to be no anxiety over a tax bill or a tax refund, because simplicity has at its heart the unshakeable conviction that it is God who provides, and that life does not live in what we possess.
If my DVD collection reflects a lack of contentment with what I possess, then I am not living simply. If the next computer purchase is made with the aim of meeting some sense of spiritual need that I think that I have, then I am not living simply.
Because of the environment of plenty in which we live, it's sometimes hard to discern where the law of simplicity has been broken, but I find the idea of living simply highly appealing. This is because I find the idea of contentment highly appealing. This is because I find the idea of freedom highly appealing. It is not because I find the idea of tax refunds appealing.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Saturday, April 16, 2011
The Cost of Success
When I was studying in London I was an infrequent attendee of Westminster Chapel. This was back when RT Kendall was the minister. Dr K had an uncommon gift for preaching and I benefited from my time at the WC. One thing that he said that has stuck with me was something he quoted from his predecessor, Martin Lloyd-Jones. He said "The worst thing that can happen to a man is for him to succeed before he is ready."
I have taken this to heart because I see the truth in it. In one sense it's obvious, because we see young rock, film and sports stars put in the spotlight of success and see them ruined by it. They can't handle the fame or money, and it ultimately destroys them. Of course, it's usually a delayed reaction. The destructive success of their twenties may not be felt until they are much older.
We often worry about and put a lot of effort into mitigating the effects of failure, but in a way the damage that success can do is just as bad and it comes in more attractive packaging. It's potential harm disguised as something good. We will even applaud people who find themselves successful before they are ready for it.
Success in the hands of someone who is ready for it; mature enough to shape it rather than let it shape them, is a good thing. But many of us lust after success without asking ourselves if we are ready for it.
I have taken this to heart because I see the truth in it. In one sense it's obvious, because we see young rock, film and sports stars put in the spotlight of success and see them ruined by it. They can't handle the fame or money, and it ultimately destroys them. Of course, it's usually a delayed reaction. The destructive success of their twenties may not be felt until they are much older.
We often worry about and put a lot of effort into mitigating the effects of failure, but in a way the damage that success can do is just as bad and it comes in more attractive packaging. It's potential harm disguised as something good. We will even applaud people who find themselves successful before they are ready for it.
Success in the hands of someone who is ready for it; mature enough to shape it rather than let it shape them, is a good thing. But many of us lust after success without asking ourselves if we are ready for it.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
The Worst of All Sins...?
Many years ago I listened to a quite excellent teaching tape by R.C. Sproul on the topic of whether or not God counted all sins the same. His conclusion was "No", but I'm not going to go through his arguments here because this is just a nifty introduction rather than the point of the post. Plus, it's been a while since I listened to it and I am not sure I could do it justice were I to try and replicate it here.
Anyway, at times I have pondered exactly what sins are worse than others - especially in light of an insert in an old Lust Control or One Bad Pig tape (I can't recall which it was) offering me the chance to send off for a pamphlet explaining "Why Sexual Sins are Worse".
I've had a sneaking suspicion that God might judge sin based not on the act itself - sexual or otherwise - but rather on the impact that it has on relationships with God and others. It's just a sneaking suspicion, and I don't have any hard evidence to back it up, but one of the things that made me wonder about this is the story in 2 Samuel 11 & 12 of David's adulterous relationship with Bathsheba. When Nathan pronounces judgement on David he makes the remark that the baby will die because by his actions "...you have made the enemies of the LORD show utter contempt...". It seems that the issue here is how David's behaviour reflects on God. Now, rather than getting upset about whether or not this means God cares more about His honour than the murder of innocents and the ruining of families - which is not the suggestion that I am making - I would rather put it to you that the sin of a Christian is automatically a bigger deal than the sin of a non-Christian, because we drag God's name though the mud when we fall short. It should be a sobering thought.
Anyway, I've been thinking about this again because I've been re-reading What's So Amazing About Grace? by Philip Yancey. It's been about ten years since I read it last, so I thought it was time for a re-read, especially in light of the fact that a couple of my friends of have been reading it recently and it's come up in conversation.
I've just finished reading the chapter called 'Grace-Healed Eyes' which is about Yancey's relationship with Mel White, an evangelical Christian who came out as a homosexual. The chapter is mostly about how the Church relates to homosexuality, and the strong feelings of ungrace that the topic produces in Christians. Yancey makes the point, quite correctly, that the Christian stance to homosexuals is typically full of ungrace and that this is wrong. Yet at the same time, he's asking how you deal with and show grace in a situation where there is clear sin at work. It's a good chapter in a good book.
However, I found myself wondering about something that Yancey doesn't write about. You see, Mel White went on to be ordained and continues to be active as a Christian. As a result, what he does he does in God's name. I couldn't help but feel that both White and his condemners were actually guilty of the same sin - misrepresenting God. Those who hated him defined him by his sexuality and related to him that way - with ungrace and condemnation. His sexuality put him beyond the pale, but in reality he is no less loved by God than any of us, and in just as much need of God's grace. Those who hate homosexuals because they are homosexual, and do this in the name of God, are in great danger of finding themselves accused by Nathan just as David was. But likewise, Mel White seems to be guilty of re-interpreting his faith in light of his sexuality; of deciding to shape The Reality in light of his personal reality, and as such could also be charged with misrepresenting God. I felt that the hot potato issue of homosexuality was something of a red herring here. The real issue was that both sides of the argument were doing what they did in God's name, and as such were both in danger of making God's enemies show contempt. That is not something to be taken lightly.
Of course, in thinking about this I find myself wondering about how to avoid falling into the same trap. The temptation to define God in light of my personal revulsions or attractions is ever present. "I will love and hate what God loves and hates" very easily becomes "God loves and hates what I love and hate". I guess the only way to limit it is to recognise it as a possibility, and come before God with humility, allowing Him to shape me rather than vice versa. It cannot be impossible to walk the right path, but I acknowledge that it's very hard to do.
Anyway, at times I have pondered exactly what sins are worse than others - especially in light of an insert in an old Lust Control or One Bad Pig tape (I can't recall which it was) offering me the chance to send off for a pamphlet explaining "Why Sexual Sins are Worse".
I've had a sneaking suspicion that God might judge sin based not on the act itself - sexual or otherwise - but rather on the impact that it has on relationships with God and others. It's just a sneaking suspicion, and I don't have any hard evidence to back it up, but one of the things that made me wonder about this is the story in 2 Samuel 11 & 12 of David's adulterous relationship with Bathsheba. When Nathan pronounces judgement on David he makes the remark that the baby will die because by his actions "...you have made the enemies of the LORD show utter contempt...". It seems that the issue here is how David's behaviour reflects on God. Now, rather than getting upset about whether or not this means God cares more about His honour than the murder of innocents and the ruining of families - which is not the suggestion that I am making - I would rather put it to you that the sin of a Christian is automatically a bigger deal than the sin of a non-Christian, because we drag God's name though the mud when we fall short. It should be a sobering thought.
Anyway, I've been thinking about this again because I've been re-reading What's So Amazing About Grace? by Philip Yancey. It's been about ten years since I read it last, so I thought it was time for a re-read, especially in light of the fact that a couple of my friends of have been reading it recently and it's come up in conversation.
I've just finished reading the chapter called 'Grace-Healed Eyes' which is about Yancey's relationship with Mel White, an evangelical Christian who came out as a homosexual. The chapter is mostly about how the Church relates to homosexuality, and the strong feelings of ungrace that the topic produces in Christians. Yancey makes the point, quite correctly, that the Christian stance to homosexuals is typically full of ungrace and that this is wrong. Yet at the same time, he's asking how you deal with and show grace in a situation where there is clear sin at work. It's a good chapter in a good book.
However, I found myself wondering about something that Yancey doesn't write about. You see, Mel White went on to be ordained and continues to be active as a Christian. As a result, what he does he does in God's name. I couldn't help but feel that both White and his condemners were actually guilty of the same sin - misrepresenting God. Those who hated him defined him by his sexuality and related to him that way - with ungrace and condemnation. His sexuality put him beyond the pale, but in reality he is no less loved by God than any of us, and in just as much need of God's grace. Those who hate homosexuals because they are homosexual, and do this in the name of God, are in great danger of finding themselves accused by Nathan just as David was. But likewise, Mel White seems to be guilty of re-interpreting his faith in light of his sexuality; of deciding to shape The Reality in light of his personal reality, and as such could also be charged with misrepresenting God. I felt that the hot potato issue of homosexuality was something of a red herring here. The real issue was that both sides of the argument were doing what they did in God's name, and as such were both in danger of making God's enemies show contempt. That is not something to be taken lightly.
Of course, in thinking about this I find myself wondering about how to avoid falling into the same trap. The temptation to define God in light of my personal revulsions or attractions is ever present. "I will love and hate what God loves and hates" very easily becomes "God loves and hates what I love and hate". I guess the only way to limit it is to recognise it as a possibility, and come before God with humility, allowing Him to shape me rather than vice versa. It cannot be impossible to walk the right path, but I acknowledge that it's very hard to do.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Being Taken Advantage Of
When thinking about being a servant of others, I've often wondered about being taken advantage of. How far do you go without becoming a door mat? I know I'm not the only one who's wondered about this, and I've read some discussion about this in the past. Sometimes this question revolves about being a 'man' and how much rubbish you have to take from someone. A couple of years ago I read Celebration of Discipline by Richard Foster and he writes this;
"...[W]e must see the difference between choosing to serve and choosing to be a servant. When we choose to serve we are still in charge. We decide whom we will serve and when we will serve. And if we are in charge we will worry a great deal about anyone's stepping on us, i.e., taking charge over us. But when we choose to be a servant we give up the right to be in charge."
So to Foster if you are asking the question "How far do I go in serving without being walked all over?" you are not truly serving. You are still thinking about protecting yourself rather than serving others.
It's hard to think like this, but I have to say that Foster's understanding fits the tone of the gospels far better than the "Serve others...but don't be taken advantage of" motif that I find seems more acceptable to us. I just can't imagine Jesus, carrying the cross to Golgotha, thinking to himself "Gee, I hope these guys don't take advantage of my servant nature."
As Foster goes on to say...
"There is great freedom in this. If we voluntarily choose to be taken advantage of, then we cannot be manipulated...the fear that we will be taken advantage of and stepped on is justified. That is exactly what may happen. But who can hurt someone who has freely chosen to be stepped on?"
Once again, the truth of Christianity is found in its paradoxical nature. We fulfil the self by denying the self. We find freedom in slavery. We find life in dying to self, for what fear does life hold for someone who is already dead?
"...[W]e must see the difference between choosing to serve and choosing to be a servant. When we choose to serve we are still in charge. We decide whom we will serve and when we will serve. And if we are in charge we will worry a great deal about anyone's stepping on us, i.e., taking charge over us. But when we choose to be a servant we give up the right to be in charge."
So to Foster if you are asking the question "How far do I go in serving without being walked all over?" you are not truly serving. You are still thinking about protecting yourself rather than serving others.
It's hard to think like this, but I have to say that Foster's understanding fits the tone of the gospels far better than the "Serve others...but don't be taken advantage of" motif that I find seems more acceptable to us. I just can't imagine Jesus, carrying the cross to Golgotha, thinking to himself "Gee, I hope these guys don't take advantage of my servant nature."
As Foster goes on to say...
"There is great freedom in this. If we voluntarily choose to be taken advantage of, then we cannot be manipulated...the fear that we will be taken advantage of and stepped on is justified. That is exactly what may happen. But who can hurt someone who has freely chosen to be stepped on?"
Once again, the truth of Christianity is found in its paradoxical nature. We fulfil the self by denying the self. We find freedom in slavery. We find life in dying to self, for what fear does life hold for someone who is already dead?
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