London in Flames

Last night was a picture of Hell. A picture of everything that Christ died to destroy. A picture of what we are fleeing from when we turn to God for forgiveness. But only a picture. The worst night in the living memory of most people in London is only a hint of the dreadfulness of that appalling reality of existing eternally without the restraining hand of God. The Bible message of London, August 2011, is "we too need to repent or we will, eventually, all perish."
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The Ancient Work of Giants

One of my favourite short pieces of literature is an Anglo-Saxon poem known as The Ruin, of which we have only fragmentary remains. The poet is gazing over the ruins of a Roman town - possibly Bath - some hundreds of years after the Romans left Britain Britain. And he is in awe.

By the time the poem was written much of the Roman cultural heritage had been abandoned and lost, including the ability to build in stone. The remains of the previous, technologically superior, civilisation astound the poet. He searches for words to describe his amazement and marvel and the phrase he comes up with is brosnað enta geweorc - the decaying work of giants.

There is too little awe in the world today. Too little opportunity to stop and consider the mighty, the ancient, the wondrous. Too little of what C.S. Lewis called the numinous. Too little time to reflect, to discover the right words. If the awesome impinges us at all, it is at the very margins of our consciousness, where for a moment or two - just occasionally - the corner of the veil is upturned and something magical and majestic and divine seeps through into our day to day, humdrum world. 

Where has all the wonder gone? Where the magic? Why do I - and all my friends in Western countries - find it so hard to ponder and approach the glory? Traffic, frantic business, noise - so much noise. White noise, the background radiation of our lives is like the fuzz on a TV screen tuned to a blank channel, when it should be intimations of wonder. Our capacity to be awestruck is drowned in a sea of static. Unseeing, unsensing, unfeeling creatures too often are we. 

And yet... the work of giants is there to be seen and sensed and felt. In fact, with biblical eyes opened, we see that the giants are not departed. Their work not some ancient legacy for sorrow, beautiful but crumbling but near, imminent and full of power. It is not the departure of giants that is the tragedy of the modern world, it is the inability to perceive them. 

Praying for anyone who reads this for the ability to take time today to reflect - really reflect. To stop, to pause, to pray. To See. May the corner of the veil be lifted.

John Stott

There is only one subject that can be blogged on today. Honouring John Stott.

I only ever met him once. It was a long time ago but I remember it vividly for an extremely strong subjective sense of him being surrounded by the presence of God. I don't really know how to put it other than that. A man who fathered leaders and exercised his exemplary statesmanship out of a centre of knowing God closely and having a heart that was deeply happy in him. (The only other person I have ever felt anything similar in the presence of is Terry Virgo). 

Without doubt, everyone who ministers over a lifetime will put a few feet wrong. But with Stott it was remarkably few. I guess that quite a lot of folk (and more and more with hindsight) wish that the discourse with Dr. Lloyd Jones had panned out rather differently and that he had avoided the furore over anihilation, but there wasn't a great deal more. Which for someone with truely global reach speaks volumes about his walking by the Spirit and enjoying the grace of God which teaches us to say no to ungodliness.

I'm sure many won't agree with me when I say that I personally found Stott's books more engaging than his preaching. That he was a good preacher is beyond doubt, but he was among the greatest writers. I suspect that centuries from now church historians of 20th century Britain will record that amid the startling decline in numbers of (professing) Christians, three figures will command enduring respect: Billy Graham as the great evangelist of the age, Lloyd Jones as the great preacher and John Stott as the great writer and statesman. And it will be Stott whose memory endures because of his books. "The Cross of Christ" is the most important Christian book of the last 50 years.   

What made him the statesman that he became? Like most evangelical statesmen it wasn't through embracing church hierarchies (that doesn't tend to be the way we do it. Evangelicals tend to do it through a passionate commitment to the local church not to ecclesiastical institutions). Perhaps with Stott it was a rare combination of being passionate about growing a local church while simultaneously being passionately and practically involved in the cause of global missions, especially among the young. Combined with a passion for sound doctrine and training gospel preachers on the one hand and immense spiritual giftedness as a grace-filled peace-maker on the other. Plenty of people are passionate about local church or global missions. About the deposit of sound teaching or being a peace-maker. Not many manage all of them. And the degree to which Stott did all of them was pretty nearly unique.

And you could talk to him. The last time I heard him preach was around his 80th birthday. It was at Word Alive in Skegness. He arrange to repeat his message finishing at 10pm, following which someone was driving him to Heathrow for an early flight to somewhere in Asia to speak to a student conference. When push came to shove I think his heart was always with the students and they have always loved him for it. Whether in CUs in the UK or through the wider fellowship of IFES. He was a young person in an old person's body.

On the completion of the New Testament Bible Speaks Today series a thanksgiving was held in All Souls. Stott addressed the meeting as the series editor and they asked me if I would speak as a younger person who values BSTs. I couldn't, but sent my Relay Worker went in my place. Finding herself talking to John afterwards she said how much she had recently enjoyed his BST on Romans. Without a hint of condescension he said "I wonder if I can ask what think about the man at the end of Romans 7 because I'm still not quite sure." She was talking about it for days afterwards - partly that the great man had asked her opinion, but mostly because the great man had impressed her with his transparent humility and desire to keep on learning of the Lord from people 50+ years younger than him.

Numbers 12:3 says: Now Moses was a very humble man, more humble than anyone else on the face of the earth. And the Lord loved it. It would be sacrilege to say that Moses had some stiff competition in John Stott (and Stott would tell me off for it, I am sure), but it doesn't seem very inappropriate. That's why he fathered leaders - not only out of depth of insight and skill but out of humble and Christ-like character.

I'm reminded of some of Nigel Lee's parting words: "I am expected in Heaven." For years it has been Stott's goal, now it is his home in everlasting joy.