The Simple Pastor
By Phil Whittall, church planter, blogger & book reviewer
RT @lukedvd: Hope his resignation from the England manager job will allow @JoelVirgo to focus on his church duties #nomorehairdye 15 hrs ago
Ten minutes later when they’re bored with your gift, the shine may have come off a bit. Still, it’s more blessed right? The thing is, I think the western societies in which we’re raising our children, are the sorts of societies where for most adults receiving is by far the superior alternative. So much so, that receiving or getting is seen as more of a human right really. You only have to think back to the summer riots in London and the many links to consumerism to see that attitude in its grossest expression.
If, generally speaking, those are the sorts of adults we are producing and I want my children to be different from that (less rioting would be good for a start), then I need to start training now. However, the early signs are not encouraging. This year, really for the first time, we are helping our three year old son discover the joy of giving. His initial reaction was grave concern, ‘I’ll still get presents won’t I?’ but even with that fear calmed, he remains unconvinced that giving is anywhere close to as good as getting.
We want giving to be in many ways, it’s own reward, we want the act of giving to radiate joy and fun, and lead to more cheerful giving. We’re going to introduce giving to those poorer than ourselves, and other such things, because giving is a habit that needs early introduction. It seems we have a default setting and it’s not ‘give’.
Any ideas, how have you seen giving best demonstrated, shared and taught to children?
‘Who’s your Saviour, Noah?’
‘Daddy?’
‘No, try again’
‘Mummy?’
‘No. Who do we read about every night?’
‘Oh, Goliath!’
‘Not quite, try again’
‘Pharaoh!’
‘Again, not quite. Who makes things better?’
‘Oh, Jesus!’
‘Yes, that’s right.’ Sigh.
So the sum total of my instruction so far is that Jesus ranks after Goliath and Pharaoh. Ho hum.
We were reading a Bible story and came to David and Goliath (we’re using this book) and we read this line from David.
“‘I shall fight Goliath’ declared David boldly. ‘I dare because God will help me.’”
Noah just started repeating ‘I dare, I dare, I dare’. All very cute. Then Emma reminded him that it was because David knew God would help him. My two year old paused and did some thinking and then said,
“Jesus will help me.”
Soon after that he started blethering rubbish and we gave him some milk to drink. But it struck me that this is faith, this is near the core of my understanding of salvation and life as a disciple of Jesus. I am a sinner but I believe ‘Jesus will help me.’ I dare to pray for healings or miracles because I believe ‘Jesus will help me.’ I speak to people in situations where my wisdom is floundering but I open my mouth because I believe ‘Jesus will help me.’ I struggle, I fall, I fail, I succeed. Jesus will help me.
OK, it may be just me but do they look alike? Poor kids, the midwife said they looked liked me. My church decided that grumpy, wrinkly and purple is not a good look, for them or me!
Anyway, the point is that they (at least I think so) carry the family likeness. The father should be able to look at them and know ‘they’re my kids.’ Simple observation really, but the punch hit home. Am I carrying the father’s likeness? Do I act, think, speak, love like the Father?
Today we give thanks to God for the safe arrival of Anna Grace Whittall. She made her entrance at 9.44am, weighing in at 7lbs 15oz.
It is just amazing to think that God would choose to enter the world this way and begin life so helpless and so weak. Amazing to think that this little girl is made in the image of God and He already knows how many hairs are on her head (quite a few!).
So, here is one more reason I have to give thanks to God.
The highlighted theme of the moment is thankfulness. First I read this story and then I came across this article about struggling with thankfulness in ministry and this comment struck home,
“I think the problem is that I’m not truly thankful when God provides. I may be happy that I got the job I wanted, pleased that I made it into the right program, or relieved that we’ve paid all our bills on time again. But I don’t think I’m thankful for those things, because deep down I believe I pulled them off on my own. There’s no sense being thankful for something you do yourself.”
After that I came across this about being thankful for technology and not ‘break[ing] into fits of rage when we have to wait 2 seconds for page-loads’ and remembering that,
“It’s important that we not put ourselves in the middle of the iUniverse—even though our phones are called iPhone. It’s not about us. It’s about God and His work that he’s doing through Jesus and His church.”
Then I read this post titled, ‘when I read this I never want to complain again’ that opened with,
“Every so often, the sufferings of a fellow human being break through the consumer haze and teach us how to value life in a way that isn’t twee or glib.”
Which reminded me about PJ Smyth, a church leader and young(ish) father of three who has just been diagnosed with Hodgkins Lymphoma (cancer of the lymph glands) who writes,
“A fair few tears flow daily in the Smyth home at the moment, especially Ashleigh’s and mine. They can break out at almost anytime prompted by gratitude to the kindness and close presence of Jesus, or thankfulness to the kind words and actions of friends, or at news of the suffering of others that is already seeming to break our hearts in a fresh way, or because of tiredness and fear of the unknown.”
The message is clear, be thankful, be thankful, be thankful. Just after I graduated from teacher training a friend and I travelled round Europe by train one summer. One of the habits we cultivated on the many train journeys was to ‘count our blessings’. It’s a good habit.
Tomorrow my beautiful son turns two and he is a real joy to me. I’m grateful to him though he doesn’t know it and more grateful to Emma for the amazing job she does in raising him, but I’m yet more grateful still to God for both of them. Any day now, I hope to be equally grateful for a second child.
Despite all the challenges, I love the church I lead and being a part of the mission we’re on. Just today 93 people (at least half were guests) shared food, fun and a short service thinking about hope together. Thank you. Today a couple took a step of courageous faith and sacrifice that, I’m sure, will prove to be a blessing to our church. Thank you.
I’m grateful for a thousand other things. Thankfulness should be a mark of the Christian, no place for moaning, grumbling and complaining for the people of God, instead we overflow with thankfulness in all circumstances (1 Thess 5:18), always giving thanks to God (2 Tim 1:3) because of who God is (Rev 11:17) and for what He has given us (Jesus) is an inexpressible gift (2 Cor 9:15) that frees us from sin (Rom 6:17-18) which is why when we have given thanks we break the bread that remembers what Christ has done for us (Luke 22:19).
Be thankful, be thankful, be thankful.
Today is a busy day as most days usually are. But today it is snowing. While most of the UK has had decent amounts of the white stuff Shrewsbury has been scratching around in tiny amounts of it. Today it is snowing.
Today Noah gets up shouts ‘SNOWING’ followed by ‘Bosh’ and ‘Tray’. Translated it means ‘I want to go sliding and playing in the snow, daddy’. But today is a busy day.
I don’t always make the right decision in moments like this. Too often I choose the work, today I chose to play. And as Noah is only 18 months old, it wasn’t ever likely to be for very long, so slide down a bank on a, now very dented, tea tray and we boshed snow and fell over and got back up again.
I wonder if at the heart of the Mary and Martha story, Jesus is hoping that Martha would just choose to be with her. Work needs doing, but I wonder if sometimes God wants us to go and play, to enjoy all the bountiful goodness of all that he has made, and not spend anything in doing it.
This is my son Noah and he’s just turned one. He can’t walk by himself yet, his words make no sense (unless you happen to be a car, a dog or are going anywhere – he can say ‘go’) and his main skill is a love of climbing up and down the stairs. Despite his distinct lack of theological training, few people have taught me more about God than my son.
Firstly, he has taught me about love. I love my wife Emma, but she’s more competent than me in more or less everything. Noah on the other hand is completely incompetent and quite often incontinent. Yet, I love him not because of what he can do but because He is a gift to me. I understand a little bit more now how God chooses to love imperfect, incompentent, impenitent people. Because love in the best sense of the word is a wonderful thing. I was such a reluctant father, but I have been thoroughly and joyfully converted to fatherhood. It’s great, God must absolutely love it.
“See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are.” (1Jn 3:1)
I also understand a little bit better the depth of the love the Father has for His Son. If I love Noah just a fraction of the love God has for me, an adopted son, and that love is a fraction of the love He has for only Son Jesus, then it’s no wonder that death could not keep. A love like that is an unstoppable force and woe betide any immovable object like a gravestone getting in the way of a Father’s love.
The second thing I’ve learned is what a sinner I am. My prayer every night is that God would work on Noah to become a man like Jesus and a better man than me. Jesus has perfect patience (1 Tim 1:16) and I do not. I get bored by playing the same game more than about twice, I get frustated at having to instil good eating habits into a one year old, I get cross because deep down I am just very selfish. I know the failings of my charcater, my vulnerabilities, my weaknesses, my struggles and my imperfections. By God, I need His grace, because I do not want my son to inherit or learn those things from me.
The third thing, I’ve been taught is how much life is a gift. I’ve no idea how long I’ll have with Noah. I may die or worse still I may live to see him die. It’s a horrible thought, a fear that I don’t want to admit to but it’s the truth. Life is short no matter how long we live. I don’t want to live ungratefully, I am so thankful for the gift of this little boy who smiles every day, who hasn’t in a year been in a bad mood for more than a minute. Life is not a right but an awesome privilege, life is a gift.
There are many more things but if I’m not maudlin already I soon will be so I’ll stop there.
I believe Jesus when he said 'life does not consist in the abundance of our possessions'. I believe he offers something better. This blog is mostly about that search.
I'm also a husband, a father, church planter, keen runner, reader, and motorcyclist. These and a few other things make guest appearances from time to time.
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