Eating ahead of ourselves

Familiarity dulls the imagination, and perhaps the appetite.

I was reading some thoughts on ‘The Lord’s Prayer’ recently and was intrigued to learn that the familiar phrase ‘our daily bread’ does not necessarily mean what I had always assumed.  Apparently, the word used is uncommon, and while it can certainly be understood as ‘give us the food we need for today’ it actually carries the more tantalising idea of ‘give us the bread of the day to come’ – ‘the bread of tomorrow’ – directing our imagination (and our aching prayers) to the coming age.

I long to experience a greater foretaste of that day.

For his anticipated presence to saturate my days here and now;

For his resurrection fragrance to infuse my life in the present;

For the wisdom yet to be revealed to season my words today;

For me to taste the powers of the age to come in my daily routines;

And for something of the glory of that day to bleed into this day.

Father, I sometimes feel malnourished.

Feed me with this ‘bread of the coming day’ to satisfy my deep hunger.

And to stimulate the appetite of those around.

Musings on a half-dead tree

Walking in the fields recently I came across an old friend. Isolated in the centre of an open meadow stood a single, large tree. But this tree held my gaze because it was unlike most others. Half the tree was obviously alive, covered with leaves and apparently vigorous. But half was clearly dead, with bare and sterile branches pointing starkly skywards.

One tree, but half alive and half dead.

It was many years ago that I first noticed this same tree, in just the same condition, and at that time the Spirit seemed to impress on me that it was an accurate picture of ‘the church’; half alive & half dead. At the time, and no doubt betraying a good deal of pride, I supposed that the Spirt was referring to the state of the church in the nation, and I prayed accordingly. Perhaps that was true.

But this time the Spirit gently prompted me to consider that perhaps the tree might also reflect the state of ‘my church’. And – still more insistent and still more discomforting – that perhaps it also reflected the condition of my own life. There were surely parts of my life that were healthy, fruitful and deeply alive. But surely also parts that were largely dead or dying, sterile and unproductive.

And the point (for me at least) is that ‘dead wood’ is not OK. It is not merely unfruitful and unsightly; it weakens the healthy parts. It distracts from what is good, and absorbs the moisture and nutrients that should be fully sustaining the fertile areas.

“…my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, so that it will be even more fruitful.” (Jn 15:1-2)

So Father, show me (gently please) the areas of my life that are unproductive and need removing.

And the fruitful areas that nevertheless need your pruning, in order to increase their yield for the King and for the Kingdom.

Shielded & Settled

Learning to Stand, part 3(Eph 6:16)

I have always had problems with faith.

I don’t mean that I struggle with the substance of what I believe; in truth I find the christian worldview deeply compelling and intellectually well-founded.

And I thoroughly endorse the insights of Matthew Bates that ‘faith’ in the New Testament most often refers to ‘allegiance’ to Jesus (“Salvation by Allegiance Alone; Rethinking Faith, Works and the Gospel of Jesus the King”).

No, my issue is more with the way that we as christians often talk about ‘having faith’.  To me at least it has always seemed to imply making an intense mental effort to convince myself that something WILLhappen, and then straining to suppress any lurking thoughts to the contrary.  If that specific something then turns out notto happen, then clearly I didn’t ‘believe’ hard enough!

So now I have guilt (as well as disappointment)!

I’m not convinced that this is what Paul meant when he encouraged us stand firm, holding up “…the shield of faith to stop the fiery arrows of the devil.”  Yes, there have been times when I have had a simple and settled conviction that the Spirit of God was going to work is a certain way.  But this was never an intense effort at ‘believism’; merely a peaceful confidence in something that I sensed God has assured me about.

But undergirding this is a much more fundamental sort of faith.  It is the robust assurance that my God is ‘a good, good Father’ and that I am truly – and unshakably – loved by him.  Like any good father, he loves to give good gifts to his children, and I know that he enjoys receiving my requests.  He does not require me to perform mental gymnastics to convince myself that he will respond to my prayers.  Or to persuade him.  Kindness is his nature.  Yes, there are occasions when in his wisdom he knows better than to give me what I ask. And in many situations – more than we understand – there are complex dynamics at play that at times constrain what is immediately possible (even for the sovereign Lord of the cosmos).  But I believe – I have faith – that God is ‘for me, not against me’.

Once, long ago, the Creator was accused of being a manipulative and freedom-hating killjoy, who had no desire to see his creation to flourish.  It was an attempt at character-assassination.  As others have observed, the whole of the biblical story (and most especially the cross) can be seen as God’s response to this accusation.1

Those malicious lies – like fiery arrows – still get aimed at me.  But I refuse to swallow them.  Whatever happens, I have faith in the loving-kindness of God, who will work creatively and over the long term, to bring good from every situation.  That settled confidence in my Father’s unwavering goodness is the shield that enables me to stand firm.

1Sigve Tonstad: God of Sense and Traditions of Non-Sense


“How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news,
who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, ‘Your God reigns!’
(Is 52:7)

Based on this verse I used to tell friends that my feet were supremely beautiful. Sadly, they are entirely average.

However, Paul seems to have had this passage in mind when he encourages us to: Stand firm…putting on your feet the readiness of the good news of peace…” (Eph 6:15). [At least I think it’s supposed to read something like that; translators seem unable to agree on exactly how to render Paul’s words, and commentators agree even less on how we are meant to understand them.]

Keep in mind that Paul is urging us as disciples to mature in areas of character that will enable us to withstand the assaults of the enemy. So for me the key word here is ‘readiness’. Whatever other meanings may lie behind these words, I tentatively offer this as wisdom:

“My readiness to move impacts my ability to stand.”

 If I strive to be quick to respond to the Spirit’s promptings, attentive to his whispers and eager to follow his subtle directions, then that pattern-of-obedience will serve to protect me, minimizing vulnerabilities that the enemy seeks to exploit.

But I need to train myself to develop this habit in the small things:

That barely registered sense that I should pray for this person, or take a moment to message that friend.
That nudge to take a detour on the way home, or to pause to take note of what is happening around me.
That almost imperceptible ‘check’ that makes me hesitate before sending the email, or causes me to hold my tongue in that conversation.

The little things that may be nothing more than my normal judgement and my human imagination. And only the Master will ever know one way or the other.

And yet my readiness to follow such prompting, to step out (or step back), to speak up (or shut up), in response to this ‘still-small-voice’, that is something the Master values highly. And the enemy detests deeply.

Because when I grow sluggish, half-hearted and careless in my response, then I become vulnerable.

For most of his life King David embodied an exceptional eagerness to follow the Spirit’s impulses, whether in passionate dancing or obsessive restraint! Except – tragically – once. On that occasion David chose to stay at home, passive and inactive, at the time ‘when kings go out to war’. It ended horribly, and the man who could stand up to giants failed to withstand temptation.

Jesus concluded one of his stories with the words: “It will be good for those servants whose master finds them ready… (Lk12:38)

Master, help me to develop and maintain an eager readiness, with feet that – beautiful or otherwise – are always prepared, constantly alert and quick to step forward.

Bracing Integrity

Learning to Stand, part 1 (Eph 6:14)

First some background:

We met together before prayer-walking around the area, and were exhorted to view what we were doing as spiritual warfare. Which it often is. But I struggled a little when a friend – predictably using language from Eph 6 – then encouraged us all to pause to ‘put on our armour’. Err… What was I actually supposed to do at this moment? What exactly was I meant to be praying for, or claiming, in that instant when I tried to ‘put on the belt of truth’?

I have no doubt whatsoever that the Spirit was at work during those times, though I now question whether we really understood what Paul was intending by his extended metaphor concerning a soldier’s equipment.

I’ve come to believe that Paul is principally encouraging followers of Jesus to work at developing:

Disciplines of Thinking,

Habits of the Heart,

and Patterns of Behaviour

that will enable us to withstand the assaults of the evil one and his minions. Certainly, these things will also make us potent to ‘tear down strongholds’, but the primary purpose is to enable us to stand. And such character formation is unlikely to emerge out-of-the-blue in response to a brief prayer.


“Stand firm therefore, girding your waist with truth.” (‘Girding’ is SUCH an under-used word!) What is this ‘truth’ that will help ‘brace’ us; that will enable us to ‘hold together’ when under pressure? The main idea seems to be our own truthfulness & integrity; an authenticity, honesty and consistency in our relationship with God and with others. God “desires integrity in the inner man” (Ps 51:6). Jesus was scathing about those who cultivated an image of spirituality that was not matched by the reality. And personal integrity mattered enormously to Paul (eg: 1 Cor 4 & 2 Cor 6).

But why is this relevant to spiritual warfare?

Because our enemy is above all ‘the accuser’, perpetually trying to undermine us by levelling charges of inconsistency and hypocrisy. And we provide him with ample ammunition if there is a lack of integrity in our lives.

If we are unsure of how we stand with God, then we will struggle to stand against our enemy.

Hence the Spirit works to shape us into people of genuine authenticity, and thereby give less ground for the enemy’s accusations. As our lives become increasingly braced with integrity, so we become less vulnerable; more able to stand.

Guard me, Helper of my Heart, against the little deceits and the overlooked inconsistencies in my life; my tendency to allow others to see me selectively, and hence assume that I am more ‘spiritual’ than I am.

But (my own heart quickly objects) I still persistently fall short. Surely my life can never align perfectly with my declared commitment to Jesus.

But then I hear these words: “This is how we know that we belong to the truth and how we set our hearts at rest in his presence: if our hearts condemn us, we know that God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything.  Dear friends, if our hearts do not condemn us, we have confidence before God and receive from him anything we ask…” (1 Jn 3:19-21).

Whatever accusations and insinuations are hurled at us, the unshakeable truth remains that – even while integrity is still being formed in our lives – we stand on forgiven ground. And we need to hold this ground.

Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you.

(1 Cor 15:58)


“…that you may be able to stand…to stand your ground…and having done everything, to stand. Stand firm therefore…” (Eph 6:10ff)

The New Testament is full of references to our ‘posture’ as disciples; sitting, walking, resting, straining, kneeling, striving, running; even falling. But perhaps more than anything else, at least for now, I sense that the primary encouragement from the Spirit is to stand.

Stuff happens, and we get battered. Some may be the result of our own weaknesses and some from the weaknesses of those around us, for we can never love without being vulnerable. Some stuff assaults our minds and emotions, and some attacks our bodies. Some is just the fallout of living as not-yet-resurrected people in a still-deeply-broken world, and some is actively provoked by the powers that still seek to dominate. Whatever the immediate source, such powers will always and without fail try to exploit the stresses that assail us. “For our struggle is not against flesh & blood…”, and we are not unaware of the schemes of our enemy.

Whatever the contested space that we occupy at this moment, individually or together, the Spirit persistently whispers, (and sometimes shouts): “stand”.

And he offers us guidelines and instructions on how we can stand; the attitudes and actions, the habits and behaviours, that will enable us both to stand, and to withstand when days are difficult.

Helper of my heart – of our hearts – give us understanding of those things that will strengthen us, reinforce us, sustain us so that “having done everything” (and despite everything done to us) we remain standing for the king.

[With this in mind I’d like to try to unpack aspects of Eph 6:10-20 in a few blogs over the coming weeks.]

Superior behaviour?

“Unless your covenant behaviour is far superior to that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never get into the kingdom of heaven.”

(Mt 5:20 NTW) 

I love that phrase ‘covenant behaviour’; an alternative rendering of a word usually translated ‘righteousness’, which we often read (and typically ignore) as merely ‘religious jargon’.

But part of me feels less comfortable with the idea of describing certain behaviour as being ‘superior’. That sounds so non-pc in 21st century western culture. After all, who are we to ‘judge’ the behaviour of others? Isn’t that arrogant, intolerant, unloving, & non-inclusive? Unless of course the behaviour in question falls within a very narrow range of categories which our society (or at least the media) has for the present deemed truly unacceptable. And these may only classified as such for this week, this month, or this year, because such things seem fluid and opinions around what qualifies appear to change. And if we ever dare to utter any word that carries the implication of ‘sin’, we are likely to incur the wrath/mockery/offense of those we are called to love and serve.

Jesus seems to have had less scruples in calling-out such behaviour, and in doing so won some admirers and some enemies; admirers among those who especially liked his critique of the religious hypocrites, and enemies among those who knew themselves to be the subject of that critique.

Knowing the subtle deceptions of my own heart, it is best to focus the challenge of Jesus firstly onto myself, rather than too quickly deflecting it onto others. #SpecsInOurEyes. It is my covenant behaviour that is the first priority. It is my conduct that needs to reflect distinctively Kingdom values; my attitudes that must reveal my different citizenship, within a society that struggles to achieve real consensus about right and wrong.

But more than this. Somehow, we need to do this, to be this, together. For we are called to model God’s alternative, age-to-come community in the middle of our increasingly broken, age-that-is-passing society. And here our behaviour matters critically. People around may not immediately discern our attitudes (though our Father does) and they may ignore our words. But what they will always see are our actions, our habits, and our behaviour.

Somehow, in a candidly humble way, we need to hold-each-other-to-account, so that – in terms of our covenant behaviour – we retain a distinctively ‘salty’ taste, without which Jesus says we are essentially pointless (Mt 5:13). Like it or not, we are a city-on-a-hill, whose counter-cultural actions people cannot fail to notice.

Spirit… Holy Spirit; form, reform & transform us. And especially me.

Not to Angels

I’ve always rather fancied encountering an angel…consciously. A few people I know have had this experience and I confess to a touch of envy. How cool must it be to see one of these impressive entities that appear in Scripture?

Except that in Scripture they don’t necessarily seem all that impressive. Some individuals met angels and thought they were just ordinary people. Others saw ordinary people and thought they were angels! And some were entirely surrounded by angels but never even noticed – which is probably a fair reflection of reality, and of most peoples’ experience.

Yet in Scripture, even when angels do feature extensively (as in Revelation), they somehow manage to remain slightly elusive and almost anonymous. A few are named, and their appearance may be striking, but mostly they seem to have only brief, ‘walk-on’ parts in the narrative; hardly ever the main character.

But there are reasons for this:

“It is not to angels that he has subjected the world to come…” (Heb 2:5).

Pause and let this sink in.

“Are not all angels ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvation?” (Heb 1:14)

Pause some more and reflect on this.

“Do you not know that we will judge angels?” (1 Cor 6:3)

Pause again, and be astounded.

Angels remain in the background because we mortals are called to be the leading players. Awesome though these heavenly beings certainly are, as far as this earth is concerned, God has ordained that they play a supporting role to his human sons and daughters; his physical image-bearers; those he has destined to be his vice-regents in creation, now and in the age-to-come. That’s you and me.

This is not to demean angels. Far from it. Rather, it is to underline the astonishing honour & authority that he has prepared for us ordinary men & women. Yet not so ‘ordinary’.

“There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations – these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit…” (CS Lewis: The Weight of Glory)

King-of-the-coming-age, help me to appreciate those around me in the light of their breath-taking destiny.

And to live each of my days in anticipation of, and preparation for, this vocation.

Wisdom Exposed

I stand amazed at the unfathomable complexity of God’s wisdom and God’s knowledge (Rom 11:33 [Phillips])

…to those who are called… Christ is the power of God and the wisdom of God (1 Cor 1:24)

God’s wisdom is awesome.  Intricate and imaginative, resourceful and resolute.

And I am convinced that the genius of his wisdom lies not in that he knows in advance every detail about the future, existing (as is often assumed) completely outside the sequence-of-time within which we live.

What would be impressive about a god who merely watched the future unfold automatically, according to a pre-set program?  We have industrial machines that do that every day!

Yes, God has his settled purposes.  And yes, he foresees a great deal; and can plan for multiple possible scenarios.  But his wisdom is revealed in that way that, with tenacious patience and relentless love, he pursues those purposes for mankind, and for this earth, within the constraints of time, creatively incorporating the free choices of humans and of angels.

Do we feel uncomfortable speaking of ‘constraints’ on God himself, as if that somehow makes him weak?  Far from it.  The biblical narrative reveals a sovereign God who elects not to impose. God chooses to constrain himself, in order to make space for true relationship with his creation.  I suspect he made this choice long ago, when he first spoke creation (space-time) into existence.  He limits himself so that we can partner with him.  And if you doubt this, just pause to consider how he limited himself, in and as Jesus.

The deep wisdom of God utterly confounds the powers that oppose him.  “None of the rulers of this age understood [God’s wisdom]; for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory.” (1 Cor 2:7) Coercion, control and domination is all that they understand, and all that they strain to do.

But the wisdom expressed in self-giving love is stronger by far.

And this matters.  Some days it seems like there is pain and brokenness all around me – situations that make me want to scream that ‘this is not the way God planned it, nor how God wants it to be’.   And I believe my outrage is endorsed by the Spirit.  Yet in those moments, with tearful hope, I learn to refuse the temptation to despair, and to offer my aching heart as prayer to the Father-of-all-wisdom.  He comforts me with his love, but more than this;

He finds undreamed-of ways to bring beauty out of ashes.  That is the heart of his wisdom.


Just words?

“Whatever house you enter, first say ‘Peace be to this house’.  If a person of peace is there, your peace will rest on them; but if not, it will return to you.” (Lk 10:5,6)

‘Peace [shalom] be to this house’ was a typical Jewish-style ‘blessing’, kindly meant but easily uttered, in the same way that we might say ‘God bless’.

Just words.

But not.

Jesus clearly intends that for his disciples there should be substance behind our words; a tangible experience conferred through what we declare.  The blessing that we speak over receptive people is meant to convey the reality that it expresses.  When we speak peace to a person, we should expect peace to fill the space.  When we step into troubled settings – homes and offices, classrooms and shops – we can expect our presence to change the atmosphere, at least to the degree that there is an openness among those present.

We seldom realise what we carry; what we ourselves have been given, and what we have authority to impart to others.

And note that it is our peace that we transmit, and it is our peace that – if it finds no resonance – ‘returns to us’.  Sometimes I wonder if what I impart to those around is not peace, but merely additional stress.  We can only share what we have, so we need to drink deeply, and repeatedly, for ourselves.  And then we can speak with quiet authority.

There is a lot of disquiet around us, especially at this time.  Fear, anxiety, mistrust and confusion proliferate.  Into this disquieting chaos, Jesus sends us, and tells us to ‘speak peace to this house’.  And to watch as this peace, our peace, comes to rest on those around us.





Doing Disagreement

Much as I might wish, it seems hard to escape some of the ‘debates’ that swirl around the church and the wider community at this time. Perhaps I shouldn’t even try to avoid them, though IMHO social media (or media at all, come to that) is not usually the best place to explore issues that require careful, nuanced and thorough study, partnered with sensitive and respectful dialogue. It’s far too easy to merely end up shouting opinions at each other and lobbing verbal bombs at those who we may come to view as ‘opponents’. Our society desperately needs to see disciples of Jesus modelling a better way to disagree, and it grieves me if the best we can do is to be a slightly less aggressive version of the same.

I offer two observations that I would encourage us all to keep in our minds & our hearts whenever we disagree:

  • “Heresy is theology done on our own.” It’s great that we are each able to read Scripture and grapple personally with issues in the light of what we read. But none of us have a monopoly on understanding, and we usually carry our own biases, frequently unrecognised. Strident & stubborn individuality is rarely a helpful starting point when we are seeking to discern truth. We belong together and the Spirit of truth guides us together into all truth. So as we wrestle with issues, we do well to humbly listen to each other, and eagerly seek to learn from those in the wider church – wise voices both from this generation and from the past. We are probably not the first to have thought about these questions.

And for this listening to happen we need to guard our attitudes.

  • In relating together, love for one another – understood in the quite distinct and ‘bracing’ New Testament sense – is fundamental. “…if I can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge…but do not have love, I am nothing.” (1 Cor 13) It is sacrificial love above all that most truly reflects the character of our Father, and hence we are to strive to keep the unity of the Spirit, until we all reach unity in the faith… (Eph 4) Truth certainly does matter, for grace and truth came through Jesus (John 1), and truth liberates us. But we need to remember: the biggest ‘heresy’ of all is not what we may view as a mistaken understanding of specific doctrines, but rather a failure to demonstrate ‘agape-type’ love to one other in our attitudes, words and actions. This grieves the Spirit most of all.

O Helper of my heart, may I delight you – in the truth I come to believe, in the way I come to believe it, and in my love for those with whom I may differ.

Badly Mistaken

Mark 12:13-27

‘You are wrong because you know neither the Scriptures nor the power of God’ (vs 24)

The Pharisees – who prided themselves on their detailed knowledge of the minutiae of Scripture – were no doubt appalled by the suggestion that they had completely missed something fundamental.  But as Jesus says elsewhere, they had perfected the art of ‘straining out a gnat and swallowing a camel’.  Now to be fair, the Old Testament doesn’t explicitly refer to resurrection all that often.  But as Jesus points out, if you look deeper than just a superficial reading, it is clearly implicit & foundational to the whole narrative; YHWH is not the God of the dead, but of the living (vs 27).

It’s easy to get so focussed on knowing all the details of Scripture that we miss the forest-for-the-trees.  We risk losing sight of the far bigger picture of God’s intentions for the whole creation; of how the individual parts fit together into the whole.

Holy Spirit, help me to read Scripture with an awareness of the overarching framework of your purposes.  And my place – our place – within them.

Meanwhile the Sadducees were the ‘liberals’ of the day.  Sceptics, they much preferred to view YHWH as remote & uninvolved; certainly not a God who would actually intervene in powerful ways, miraculous ways, upsetting their status quo.  Maybe God had done such things in the distant past, but surely not in the here-and-now.

We can so absorb the prevailing ‘naturalistic’ worldview of our culture that we end up domesticating God, reducing him to a distant & detached concept.  Safe.  Any suggestion that he might ‘interfere’ in the physical world, or indeed completely upend it by raising the dead, seems fanciful and naïve.

Holy Spirit, help me to hunger for, invite, recognise, and embrace your interrupting power.  Around me, in me, through me.

Father, I know I can be badly mistaken about many things.  But guard me from these errors.

I want to understand the Scriptures.

I want to comprehend your power.

And recognise you, Master, in both.

All about the grapes

Mk 12:1-12

As Jesus pointedly taught (Mk 12:2)) and vividly demonstrated (Mk 11:12-14, 20), God intends his people to ‘bear fruit’ and when, despite his overwhelming grace, they consistently and stubbornly fail to do so, there comes a point when he has no option but to call ‘time’.

Though he does so with tears in his eyes. (Mt 23:37)

This much we see from Jesus’ strong words of judgement to the Jewish leaders.

But what we can easily forget is that he says something uncomfortably similar to his own disciples (Jn 15:1-8).  There is a difference: under the new covenant, bearing fruit is not simply a calling; it is a promise.  In fact, it is an unavoidable consequence, for if we remain joined to him, we will be fruitful, for his own life will flow through us.  Nevertheless, the warning is clear, because if our lives are unfruitful it exposes the fact that we are no longer properly connected to Jesus.

But what does ‘fruitfulness’ look like?

As with the first couple he created, and the first nation he called, it fundamentally means reflecting the true character of the much-maligned Father into the world that he loves.  Hence the truest reflection is Jesus.

Amidst all the pressure and pain around me (and sometimes within me), I am to reflect him.

As I speak, and act, and react; as I celebrate, and suffer, and persevere.

And to the extent that I represent my Father as he genuinely is, full of grace & truth, to that extent he delights to pronounce me fruitful.

Fruitfulness is first & foremost about character.  Reproducing disciples, and replicating good works – these are secondary.  It’s not so much what we do, but who we become (© Dallas Willard), and who we look like in the process.

Sometimes, when the clouds gather, simply standing silently as his true image-bearers, is fruit enough.

Worshipping Water?

We sing of rivers, fountains, oceans, wells, rising tides and currents, overflowing floods & bursting springs – and that’s just one song! I suspect that the language we use in worship must seem distinctly odd to those who’ve not been fully ‘immersed’ (see what I did there) in christian language and metaphor.

What on earth do we mean? And – to venture a larger question – does it even matter whether we understand what we’re singing?

I suggest that sometimes is does matter, and sometimes it doesn’t, and the clue to distinguishing lies – perhaps surprisingly – in Paul’s teaching on spiritual gifts.

The gift of tongues is a Spirit-prompted way of expressing our hearts to God in prayer & worship. If we have ever used this gift, then we should almost certainly use it far more, because it strengthens us. One key benefit of this gift is precisely that it by-passes our conscious minds, and for some of us the ability to freely express our hearts to God gets constricted by always being audited and filtered by our minds. Hence speaking or singing in tongues is deeply helpful for us as we interact with God.

But it is not necessarily so helpful to guests who may be visiting. They can’t understand what is being said, and so may be left thinking we are all simply odd (or worse). What’s the way through this dilemma? Paul suggests that in public meetings where guests are likely to be present, it is best to either refrain from using tongues, or to explain in plain English what is being expressed (the gift of interpreting tongues).

How does this relate to the metaphorical language we sometimes use in our worship (such as all the references to water, oceans and springs)? If we’re merely a group of believers, then it’s OK because either we have a reasonable understanding of what is meant (see John 7 for Jesus’ own use of this metaphor), or we can simply surrender ourselves in worship to the King, irrespective of our comprehension of the lyrics.

On the other hand, if we know there are guests & visitors present for whom some things may seem entirely incomprehensible, then it can be helpful to explain obscure lyrics in terms that they can understand; akin to ‘interpreting tongues’. And doing this sensitively, so that the whole sense of corporate worship is not derailed, is a skill in itself.

As the writer of Ecclesiastes might have said (but didn’t), “There’s a time to use metaphors, and a time to speak plainly.” Holy Spirit, help me to recognise which is which.