“Vision can only really be born out of sharing God’s heart for a particular situation. Vision comes from being put in the picture to the point where your heart aches for something to be done about it. Developing a real burden for that situation makes you cry out to God and drives you to prayer. Deep and committed, heartfelt prayer leads to the discovery of God’s will and purpose – then it’s time to act.”

Thank you Dave Cave for this insight inspired by your reflections on Nehemiah Chapter 1 and published in the corresponding Crossway Bible Guide.

I guess if I was a lost sheep, stuck, hungry, cold, etc. I’d be pretty pleased to be found. Imagining life as a lost coin may be more of a stretch, but I’d be totally dependent on my owner looking for me, and doubtless glad to be returned to the company of my valued companions before becoming Dyson-fodder. But, I suspect if my Dad gate-crashed one of my wild parties, I’d have felt embarrassed by him, and if he turned up at the pig farm my pride and shame would have made me hide from him.

Sometimes (perhaps more often than I like to think) God and his people (including me) need to pursue wholeheartedly and search endlessly for those who are lost. But sometimes, when we (including me) choose to go on our own way (no longer remaining?) the only thing God (and perhaps his people) can do is to wait, watching the horizon, hoping, praying and having already forgiven. I trust that God knows his children and knows what to do and that if we listen to him he’ll tell us too.

“Remain in me, as I also remain in you.

No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me. [I'd rather skip this beat, but Jesus doesn't so I'd better leave it in.]

I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.

If you do not remain in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned.

If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.

As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. If you keep my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commands and remain in his love.

I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete.

My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.” (John 15:4-12)

This “remaining” business would seem to be quite significant, the key to a life which glorifies God through bearing fruit, through answered prayer and through obedience to the command to love one another. Not only does such remaining glorify God but it brings us great joy.

So there you go, wasn’t that interesting? Another nice little insight decorated with a pleasant “heartbeat” analogy. Hopefully, if you’ve read anything I’ve written (and my expectations are pretty low on that score) you’ll know that I’m not content to leave it here. It sounds too much like “in theory…” or “if you do it right it should look like…” and I can’t quite see Jesus as a theoretical physicalist!

What does Jesus mean by “remain in me”? Does the phrase “remain in my love” reveal more of its meaning, or is it something more?

And the answer is… I don’t know, and I’m sure there are tomes of theological writing with deeper insight than I shall ever have. However, as I have returned again and again to these words over the last few weeks, these are some of the thoughts I find circling my head, waiting for a unified theory to land on:

Remain in me. Make your home in me. Don’t run off after other stuff or praise from other people, stay here. Stay all day and all night, not just visiting for half an hour in the morning. Take time to let me soak in, and simultaneously wash away all the dirt you’ve picked up, both deliberately and accidentally. Stay, settle in and let me settle in to you, make myself at home, have the run of your place. Let me be your centre of gravity. Know that I love you as much as the Father loves me – just let that sink in!  Let our love for you as Father, Son and Holy Spirit be your point of reference, in your identity and in your attitudes, words and actions. Spend enough time time around here and you’ll start to look, sound and act like us! Trust me, lean into me, live with me, learn to love from me, remain in me… remain in me…

Two verses less than a chapter apart in John’s gospel have got me thinking a bit about why and how I use my gifts/abilities (for want of more self-effacing terms) in my work.

The thought has occurred to me before that when I “serve” others , particularly in the context of work, my mixed motives include high doses of “self-’s”, chief among which are probably self-esteem (from the approval of others) and self-gratification (from the enjoyment of wrestling with a challenging problem). I doubt my motives will ever by anything other than mixed, but I wonder if serving others should feature a little more prominently in that mix?

As usual it’s tempting to leave it there and go off and feel guilty  for a while (and make a few other Christians feel guilty for good measure) about not doing everything out of a pure desire to serve others, but that’s not a very satisfactory, effective or maybe even Jesus-like result.

So, back to John and these two verses you’ve been waiting for:

John 12:43 “for they loved praise from men more than praise from God.”

John 13:14 “Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet.”

Tah-dah! Okay, perhaps the meandering machinations of my mind require a little unravelling:  The first verse describes me too well, too often and not just in work. The latter struck me harder as I tried to understand what Jesus says next, not just  about following his example, but about a servant not being above his master. “Are you better than me? above washing feet?” Thus the option of performing a sophisticated theoretical side-step of the whole “serving others” thing seems to be ruled out, almost as if he knew I’d try.

So, how to pull these vaguely connected threads together? (I don’t know, I’m making this up as I go along. Can you tell?) Perhaps the words at the beginning of the twelfth chapter of John provide a key: “Having loved his own who were in the world, he now showed them the full extent of his love.” There’s something slightly odd about describing this most extraordinary act of foot-cleansing as an act of extreme love. Humility perhaps, but love? Then another little bell sounds in the dim recesses of my mind, something about the cure for my love of the “praise of men” lying in knowing how much God loves me as I am… the “love” word again.

Perhaps in receiving the fulness of God’s love for me there is not only freedom from the addiction to approval but also freedom to focus on others and in that place a genuine desire to serve them, to love them, using the gifts and abilities God has given me. If I am fortunate enough to find many opportunities to do this in my daily work, then great! Could this mean job-satisfaction independent of self-satisfaction?

Here endeth the ramble (pending much-needed refinement… through further deliberation of course, not practice!).

But the impact of ignoring these imperatives has been graciously pointed out to me by an unexpected ally. You see, the conspiracy that rages against these two: stillness and waiting, is almost all-encompassing, capable of filling every hour of the day twice-over and relentlessly reinforcing my right (or at least desire) to have it now, whatever “it” may be. The conspirators include the usual suspects of work, husbandry, parenting, church-going, etc. and a host of shady secondary characters: online retail and research, murder-mystery watching, photo editing, tweet formulating, etc. None of these are particularly debasing vices but their combined effect is fairly devastating. So who is this ally who has come to my rescue, this welcome relief? His name is “sickness”. Yes, possibly the only thing in my life which has helped me to be still and to wait (though not always patiently) has been illness.

Thanks to the intervention of this otherwise unwelcome visitor I am learning the value of being still and waiting, even patiently. Throughout this time I have also found a helpful guide, one familiar with retreat, in the shape of one Brennan Manning and his books. He is not a Christian guru with all the answers, nor even necessarily a must-read author. But for me, over the last six months his books have been the mentor and companion I have needed. I mention this because I think the following quote reflects something of the journey I have begun.

“Our trust in Jesus grows as we shift from making self-conscious efforts to be good to allowing ourselves to be loved as we are (not as we should be). The Holy Spirit moves us from the head to the heart, from intellectual cognition to experiential awareness. An inward stillness pervades our being, and the time of prayer is characterized by less rational reflection and speaking and more contemplative quiet and listening.” Brennan Manning, Ruthless Trust.

If that all sounds too esoteric then I guess that’s partly because the excerpt is taken out of the context of both the book and my life. To fill in a little of the latter: this journey has been from a place or intellectual-only knowledge, of non-existent intimacy with Jesus, of performance- and people-based self-worth, of selfishness, and of uncertain trust in the goodness of God. From this place, I hope you will agree that this journey is in the right direction!

“Within your temple O God we meditate on your unfailing love.” (Psalm 48 v9)

It doesn’t appear to be an especially remarkable line for a Psalm, not like ” Within your temple we play poker on a Friday” would. But before I could potter on two thoughts jumped out and grabbed me. The first assailing thought was that this is such a beautifully simple description of what the church gathers together to do. (And if we fail to do this when we get together, how much poorer are we for the oversight?)

The second thought which assaulted me was that the Psalmist was writing about this heart of worship without ever seeing the extent of God’s love revealed in Jesus. You might think this description of temple activity is a bit of stretch for a contemporary (I use the word very loosely!) church, but is it not even more strange for a building with blood soaked altars, richly clothed priests and segregating curtains? Where God has so far revealed himself in law and history but not yet through the life and death of his only son for the love of us? How much more of the love of God are we privileged to have seen that we could meditate on together?

Brennan Manning.

Rich Mullins, Hold Me Jesus (from the album “Songs”).

Brennan Manning, Ruthless Trust.