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Written by: Gavin Perkins

If it was good for the first disciples to hold up the teaching of the Apostles against the rule of Scripture, then how do we make sure we commend rather than condemn those who do the same today?

A vital part of growing in maturity as a Christian is learning how to be more discerning with the teaching we receive. If we lack discernment then we can be like spiritual infants “tossed back and forth by the waves and blown here and there by every wind of teaching.” (Ephesians 4:14).

A child hears and trusts implicitly what their parents tell them about life and the world, but as they grow into maturity, they begin to rightly question all that they have learnt and received. If the parents’ teaching is good and right, the child ought to grow into adulthood and find themselves believing and knowing the same things they did as a child, but now with the added conviction of having tested them and found them true in a deeper, richer and more personal way. So it is with healthy growth into spiritual adulthood.

When the Apostle Paul taught the Jews of Berea about the Christ, they were commended for not just accepting the teaching, but they “examined the Scriptures every day to see if what Paul said was true.” (Acts 17:11) If that examination and testing is admirable when the one teaching is the Apostle Paul, how much more so when we hear the Word being taught today. They also tested this teaching, even though they had already “received the message with great eagerness.” They loved what they heard, it connected with them and the truth resonated in their hearts, but that was not enough. They would only be truly convinced if what was being taught by Paul was actually what the Word of God teaches.

It is only when the Word is faithfully taught that it is backed by the authority of God himself. Each word needs to be tested by the Word before it is received and applied to anyone else. A sermon, a book or a bible study can be true, wise and even helpful, but it only has the authority of God if God’s Word is being taught.

I recently heard a talk on 2 Corinthians 3 about the veil over Moses’ face after he had met with God and was bringing the people the Word. Paul’s point is that as new covenant believers we see and are transformed by the full glory of God in Christ in a way that was never true for Israel. The sermon however was all about the veils we put up to hide our true selves from each other in the way we talk, present ourselves and use social media. It was full of useful insights, but to claim the authority of God for those insights is dangerous and deceptive. A more honest approach would have been to simply present the content of the talk as a series of wise suggestions and make no implicit claim to the authority of God.

It is a dangerous thing to stand before the people of God and claim the authority of God. It is only safe to do so if you are speaking the words of God.

The way to safely navigate the path from spiritual infancy to maturity is through consistently hearing the truth spoken with loving authority within a church fellowship (Ephesians 4:15-16).

So as we encourage people to weigh truth of the teaching they hear urge them to pay attention to three F’s.

• Foundation: is this word consistent with the foundation laid in God’s Word?
• Fruit: will this word produce fruit consistent with the work of God’s Spirit?
• Fellowship: seek the advice of wise saints in a healthy Christian fellowship.

Gavin Perkins

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Written by: Simon Manchester

A Change of Heart 
Thomas Oden, IVP Academic, 2014

I’m getting tired of new books that pretend to be cutting edge Christian books and begin with Tom and Lucy looking out on their vegetable gardens and having some twee conversation. I’m also getting tired of books that have blurbs that give the impression this is the greatest book ever written but the content is empty and vacuous. Am I just getting old and grumpy – probably yes – but I’m also hungry for some substance.

One book that came as a pleasant weighty surprise is Sinclair Ferguson’s Some Pastors and Teachers. It’s a collection of many of Ferguson’s short articles linked to Owen, Calvin and others and since each chapter is about 6-8 pages long it can be read devotionally with great food for the mind and heart. If you have been waiting for something to fuel your faith this could be it.

Another Ferguson book worth reading is The Whole Christ which grapples with a moment in Scottish history when a young candidate for the ministry is asked if repentance is necessary to come to Christ. The young man said “yes” then changed his answer to “no” and was disqualified from entry. Men gathered around him to defend him and the book explains why. It introduces the knife-edge question as to whether people are hearing good news from us or not.

But another book that is a treat to read is A Change of Heart” by Thomas Oden. He was born in 1930 and died in 2016 – the first half of his life a liberal pastor and theologian – the second half a reformed academic. What makes the book so striking is that he exposes his own inner workings as he went down the liberal road – now writing as a repentant and orthodox man.

For example, he talks about reading his New Testament with the cross and resurrection deliberately pushed to the edge. His prayer life dried up and he found himself saying the creed in church with great difficulty. His new gospel became freedom from anxiety, guilt and boredom – the “theo” in theology had become a question mark.

“I loved the illusions… I imagined I was being critical and rational… I imagined I had a share in transforming human history… (but) I did not examine my own motives. The biblical words for this are egocentricity, arrogance and moral blindness” p.56.

The turning point came for Oden when an orthodox Jew accused him of being a lightweight – unfamiliar with the Founding Fathers of the Christian faith. He went back to the roots of the Church and found men with finer minds asking finer questions and giving finer answers. “I was amazed that the intergenerational wisdom of the ancient community of faith was completely accessible within modernity… I had been in love with modernity. Candidly I had been in love with heresy. Now I was waking up from this to meet a two thousand year stable memory… I came to trust the very orthodoxy I had once dismissed… I became even more relevant, not less relevant , to modern partners in dialogue… I found myself standing within the blessed presence of the communion of saints… the antiphonal choir with whom I was singing” p. 140.

Not only does Oden write humbly – but beautifully. It’s a delight to read how he expresses the faith in glorious terms.

The second half of his life takes him into many global opportunities – exposing the hypocrisy he knows so well but also building relationships across a wide spectrum of believers. I found his ecumenical spirit too generous for me but you can decide that one for yourself.

For those of us who have walked a pretty orthodox road most of our days and may find our doctrines getting familiar to the point of contempt this is a fresh set of eyes. For those who teach and toy with liberal scholarship – thinking your students cannot see the uselessness of your position – this is a devastatingly honest expose.

Simon Manchester, NSW

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Written by: Ben Underwood

Making the gospels: Mystery or Conspiracy? 
Paul Barnett, Cascade, 2019

The question of how the four gospels came to be as they are is intriguing and important for Christians (well, for everyone, really, but certainly for Christians). Matthew, Mark, Luke and John present Jesus of Nazareth as the Son of God, the ransom for many, the one who suffers, dies and rises from the dead according to the scriptures. The man they introduce breaks many rules of ordinary humanity, and the question is whether they paint a fair and faithful portrait of Jesus, or whether some more modest Jewish figure been transformed into the miracle-working redeemer of the gospels by some innocent or not-so-innocent process of exaggeration, embellishment, and exaltation. This pressing question is complicated by the fact that we have only hints (compared to what we might like to have) as to the process by which the gospels came to be as they are.

Paul Barnett has spent a career researching, thinking and writing about the earliest Christianity, from the life of Jesus to the completion of the New Testament and the close of the apostolic age. He has taken on the hard task of discovering what we can know about matters demanding ingenious historical detective work to bring into some view. He has also taken on those who would undermine the integrity of the New Testament as a reliable testimony to the true nature of the events and people in its pages. He was this year on the Queen’s Birthday Honours List, being made a Member of the Order of Australia for significant service to the Anglican Church of Australia. He is a prolific author, who has this year added a new title to his list of publications, namely Making the gospels: Mystery or Conspiracy?

The burden of this book is to probe the mystery of the process by which we came to have the four gospels of the New Testament. In doing this, Barnett argues that although this process may remain in many ways a mystery, it is implausible and ungrounded to believe that it involved a conspiracy of any sort. The idea that the gospels present a figure confected by Paul, or Mark, or later editors of Q is not credible, given what the historical evidence makes likely about the production of the gospels. In summary, Barnett argues that the role of the disciples as witnesses of the ministry, death and resurrection of Jesus is to be taken seriously, and that we should respect the indications that the New Testament gives that its authors were committed to the faithful transmission of what the eyewitnesses had said. Neither the short period between Jesus and the gospels, nor the culture governing the transmission of the accounts of Jesus, make it plausible to suppose that great metamorphoses have been wrought upon the figure at the heart of these accounts.

One new conviction Barnett comes to in the writing of this book—a conclusion which takes him by surprise—is that Jesus most likely taught publicly in both Aramaic and Greek. In Chapter 19 he cites the work of Meyers and Strange who find that in the first century BC Aramaic declined and Greek gained ground even in country areas. The Twelve have Greek names among them (Philip, Simon and Andrew) and Jesus had conversations with Gentiles (the Syrophoenician women, the centurion, even Pilate) who probably had at best limited Aramaic. Jesus’ travels in the north and east of Galilee would make it natural for him to prefer speaking Greek in these places. Crowds came to him from Greek-speaking areas like the Decapolis, and the environs of Tyre and Sidon, and it would make sense for Jesus to teach in Greek for these hearers. The upshot of this is that Jesus’s teachings need not have existed originally only in Aramaic, and so they needed no subsequent process of translation into Greek for them to take the form they do in our gospels.

Barnett further notes the probable literacy (not illiteracy) of at least some of the disciples makes it plausible that accounts of Jesus’ teachings were ‘committed to writing in Greek from the earliest times’, beginning during the earthly ministry of Jesus itself (p. 93). This pair of conclusions relativises both the role of oral transmission of the accounts of Jesus, and of Aramaic as the medium of such transmission. This in turn means the written sources which underlie the gospels may be as close to the ministry of Jesus as any oral streams of transmission in Aramaic that may also have carried the knowledge of Jesus to the gospel writers. Barnett acknowledges this is a controversial conclusion, and somewhat out of step with the recent focus on modes of oral transmission by Kenneth Bailey and James Dunn, but he’s arguing for the substantial importance of individual eyewitness accounts in written Greek.

Barnett covers a great deal of ground, and touches on verbal parallels to gospel material in the New Testament epistles, on the provenance and theologies of Mark, Q, M and L, on the use of Mark by Matthew and Luke, on the audiences the individual gospels appear attuned towards and a host of other issues. Throughout it all his constant theme is that while there is indeed mystery surrounding the process by which the gospels came to be, this in no way licences conspiracy theories. It should not be accepted that Jesus— imagined as a Jewish rabbi of reformist, charismatic or sapiential character— has been dishonourably repackaged as a dying and rising redeemer. ‘The earliest “traditions” are focussed on the redemptive Jesus.’ (p. 235)

The whole is written in vintage Barnett style, exhibiting familiarity with current scholarship and an independent development of thought. Close attention to particular texts across the New Testament and their interconnections alternates with broad awareness of the history, geography and culture of the ancient Mediterranean world in its Jewish, Hellenistic and Roman modes. Barnett writes to communicate with the general reader but does not make his content ‘lite’. In this as in many previous works, he connects the general reader to the scholarly world and the historical scene in a way that few others have done, certainly amongst Australian scholars. Here is a concise, up-to-date account of the production of the gospels by a seasoned scholar and passionate student of the history and literature surrounding the central figure of the New Testament: Jesus, whom this Paul also serves.

Ben Underwood, WA

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Written by: Rick Lewers

Marriage, Same Sex Marriage and the Anglican Church of Australia: Essays from the Doctrine Commission
The Doctrine Commission of the Anglican Church of Australia,
The Anglican Church of Australia, 2019

This book review title should be The book that should be read but cannot be fully recommended.

Background

In 2017 the General Synod of the Anglican Church of Australia, by motion, instructed its Doctrine Committee to “facilitate a respectful conversation in our church by means of a collection of essays on marriage and same sex relationships that explore scriptural and theological issues…”

To summarise the scope of the request: it sought to address Anglican Formularies, the exploration of state definitions of marriage and the church’s doctrine of marriage, our view of Scripture and the methods we use for coming to an understanding of them and the nature of our relationships where disagreement exists.

The outcome of the request was the production of the book, Marriage, Same Sex Marriage and the Anglican Church of Australia: Essays from the Doctrine Commission. This book was published in paperback in June and is currently free to download¹.

The Relational Issue

The issues addressed in the book are not insignificant and, on paper, positions are easily expressed. However, one’s thinking on the issues cannot be divorced from all human relationships as expressed in the two great commandments, “to love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength and to love your neighbour as yourself.” As the commands begin with an upward look to God so the outward look to others gathers importance. To neglect one is to fail the other. To miss the priority of the first unties us from a God-given accountability in our loving of others. If we are to glorify God, and if people are to enjoy him forever, then our discussion of something as close to us as our created, human sexuality requires more than human opinion or general observations, it requires God’s special revelation. As such the Scriptures are crucial to our discussion.

The Historical Issue

The problem for the Anglican Church of Australia as evidenced in the book and played out in the Anglican Communion around the world, is the disjunction between divine revelation and human opinion. Historically this problem is one of emphasis, expressed by the likes of Richard Hooker in terms of Scripture, tradition and reason, to which could be added experience. But even the history of the three – Scripture, Tradition and Reason – has suffered from the revisionists who in one breath declare Richard Hooker as their friend but in the next misrepresent the priority given by Hooker to the Scriptures over reason, tradition and experience. Bishop Michael Stead in the closing essay of the book offers an extended reflection on these four as he deals with the case against same sex marriage.

The Anglican Issue

There are eleven contributors to the book who represent divergent views on the issue of same sex marriage and blessing. The significance of these divergent views goes to the very core of a Christian Anglican identity. Most obviously, these divergent views on same sex marriage and blessings reveal divergent views on the authority of Scripture which is central to our Anglican identity. The 39 Articles of Religion highlight the place of the Scriptures as governing God’s church in all matters of faith and practice consistent with the reformation tenet of “sola Scriptura”, and most importantly, as defended by the Bible’s own internal witness to itself as God’s breathed out Word.²

Needless to say, divergent views of the Scriptures have led to divergent views on human sexuality that have inevitably caused a divide to occur across the global Anglican Communion. This divide has giving rise to the GAFCON movement and the establishment of new Anglican Dioceses, not recognised by Canterbury. These include Canada, Europe, Jamaica and most recently New Zealand and Polynesia. As the historical survey in the third essay makes clear the implications for the Australian Anglican Church are quite clear, “you can’t change the doctrine of the church and expect that people will continue to live in partnership, fellowship or communion”. It is why this book is so important. Its contributors expose the problem by their declared positions and as a result we, the readers, can reflect on the arguments presented and respond accordingly.

The Contents of the Book

After an introduction, the book has a series of essays to set the context, sketching out the history of these issues across the wider Anglican Church, and the highlighting the peculiarity of the situation of the Anglican Church of Australia, which has uniquely bound itself to the doctrine and principles of the Book of Common Prayer, Ordinal and 39 Articles.

These essays are followed by paired essays which respectively examine the arguments for and against samesex marriage, exploring hermeneutics, Old Testament, New Testament, the history of marriage and friendship.

Next a series of stand-alone essays on blessing, desire and godly disagreement. The final two essays seek to sum up the arguments for and against same-sex marriage.

The Key Issue

In the scope of this review, it is not possible to give a summary of all the arguments. Instead, I will focus on the one key issue which is the hinge on which the other essays turn.

One contributor to the book, the Rev. Dr Matthew Anstey, highlights what is key to the Church’s discussion of same sex marriage and blessing when he say, “that the role Scripture plays in the debate is where the most important differences lie.”3

To the uninitiated, the divergent views of Scripture may seem subtle but their outcomes are anything but subtle and the threat to the locus of authority in the church is of enormous concern.

So to the book itself. There is no substitute to reading the book for yourself and I acknowledge my subjectivity, which I hope is a Biblically informed one, in dealing with aspects of the book while hoping not to misrepresent its content.

The essays range in quality and complexity. While some papers stand alone, others provide a contributor’s view followed by another contributor’s critique. As a standalone essay, I found the Rev. Dr Rhys Bezzant’s essay on 'The Blessing of Same Sex Marriage' very instructive in offering a defence as to why we cannot bless same sex marriages. The most significant essays in the collection, however, centre on Scripture and hermeneutics. We could describe this section of the book and in particular Matthew Anstey’s essay and Mark Thompson’s response to it as the skeleton around which the discussion must be clothed. In terms of the church, the seriousness of skeletal damage will always be the bodily dysfunction that follows, so it is crucial to give the arguments our attention.

 To highlight the issue, it is worth listening to Anstey and Thompson.

The Rev Dr. Anstey, commenting on the evaluating of our doctrinal position on same sex marriage states, “The fact that such evaluation is occurring and books such as this are being written, speaks to the reality that the church is able to perceive and discern through the Spirit the work of God in the world and ‘decide for God’ in response to such discernment…”

As the essay proceeds the Rev.Dr Anstey is quite definitive, “…Let me be clear about my view from the outset, Scripture shows us how the people of God come to make moral and theological judgements rather than providing the substantive content of those judgements. Hence to be faithful to Scripture in this debate (as in all debates) does not mean we exegete Scripture and apply to living human experience a timeless moral-doctrinal precept (and such a so called ‘excavative’ approach is adopted by opponents to same sex marriage in this volume) but rather we seek to make our case for the doctrinal position we are arguing in dialogue with both Scripture and lived human experience.”

One must read all that the Rev Anstey writes to be fully cognizant of his position but to any exegete of the Scriptures who believes in the absolutes of God as set down, for example, in the Decalogue, his words are concerning.

In his response to the Rev. Dr Anstey’s essay, the Rev. Dr Mark Thompson takes quite a different theological stance when it comes to the Scriptures and I quote, “The 39 Articles, which include an endorsement of the Book of Homilies (Article XXXV) remains the confessional document of Anglicanism and so is included in the Constitution of the Anglican Church of Australia. The Articles provide us with a strong statement of the identity of Scripture as ‘God’s Word written’, the final authority of biblical teaching, the boundary condition of recognising and honouring the coherence and unity of biblical teaching and the stance of the reader: humility, prayerfulness, a concern for the glory of God and restraint in exposition.”

The outworking of Anstey’s hermeneutic is consistent with his revisionist view of the place of Scripture, tradition, reason and experience, just as the outworking of Thompson’s hermeneutic is demonstrated by sitting under the Bible’s authority not over it.  Anstey elevates the “Spirit”-led discernment of the individual above that of the Scriptures, and Thompson prioritises the Scriptures over the individual, who must sit under the Scriptures and surrender to them.

Anstey’s words, “…that the church is able to perceive and discern through the Spirit ‘the work of God in the world and “decide for God”…” are concerning in both what is said and not said. He separates Word and Spirit thus removing the objective basis on which to test the “spirit” of such discernment. By contrast Thompson sees the authority of the Spirit as expressed in the Word, thus holding the two together which is consistent with Christian Anglicanism as expressed in our Anglican formularies.

On personal reflection, a fallen humanity to “decide for God” under a spirit that cannot be tested seems like foolishness. The Rev. Dr Anstey’s essay could be accused of suggesting that God has inadequately communicated his will to us. It is no surprise that when we sit over God’s word and “decide for God” that humanity seeks to become a permission giver to things contrary to God’s will and not a servant of God’s will in calling people to repentance and faith. But equally when people begin to “decide for God” it is crucial to recognise that authority has moved from God to those who think they should decide. That would seem a recipe for authoritarian disaster that does not end in permissions but rule of law by the fallen.

Reflecting on both positions I see the distinctions best expressed by the words “interpret” and “understand.” The difference may be subtle but not unimportant.

Understanding the Scriptures requires you listen to what God has said and sit under his authority which requires the most careful exegesis of the texts of Scripture. Where a part of the Bible is unclear we do not ignore it but we look to the rest of the Bible to offer us further understanding. By contrast, interpreting the Scriptures makes you the authority over what God has said allowing outside influences such as tradition, reason and experience to determine your thoughts.

This is not just semantics. When we seek to understand, understanding submits our reason, tradition, and experience to God’s Word. When we seek to interpret, interpreting submits God’s word to our reason, traditions and experience. The outcomes can be significantly different when it comes to faith and practice.

Start with God and you start with the Almighty, the Sovereign, the Holy and Perfect. Start with humanity and every effort is flawed from the start by our creatureliness, weakness, and fallen nature. It is hardly surprising that when we get God wrong we get ourselves wrong. It is hardly surprising when we put ourselves in God’s place that we will compromise God’s absolutes.

Given that contrast, it can only be the sin of hubris that would have us pursuing interpretations that offer permissions to things God has spoken against rather than encouraging repentance and faith that comes with understanding God’s word.

Such hubris will heal no ills, trivialise sin, reduce Christ, profit no salvation and consign people to hell.

What a difference the truth understood makes. It puts God on his throne and straight-talks the problem of sin and the fallen nature of our humanity. By way of encouragement, the heavens proclaim his glory and his Word reveals the inspirational love of our maker and redeemer. It speaks to our reconciliation with God and offers the restoration of one’s person. In a lost and confused age the Christian gospel offers the repentant: new birth, justification by faith, atonement through propitiation and the substitutionary death of Christ and resurrection to eternal life. The Christian gospel does not offer permission to sin and warns of the judgement to come. For the repentant, God grants us the fellowship of the Holy Spirit to comfort and sustain us amidst the myriad temptations we face.

I would not normally recommend some of the essays in this book but they are educative in understanding why there are divisions in the Anglican Communion. Those divisions will inevitably impact the General Synod of our church in 2020 and our churches beyond. It is important for all God’s people to be informed and prepared should those who depart from the Scriptures force upon themselves their departure from the Christian Anglican Communion. Let us all pray for the humility to sit under God’s Word and repent such that the unity of God’s church would advance the mission of God for the salvation of the lost. Let us pray that we love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength and then rightly love our neighbours as ourselves.

An encouragement

“Last eve I paused beside the blacksmith’s door,
And heard the anvil ring the vesper chime;
Then looking in, I saw upon the floor,
Old hammers, worn with beating years of time.
“‘How many anvils have you had,’ said I,
To wear and batter all these hammers so?’
‘Just one,’ said he, and then with twinkling eye,
‘The anvil wears the hammers out, you know.’
“And so, I thought, the Anvil of God’s Word
For ages skeptic blows have beat upon;
Yet, though the noise of falling blows was heard,
The Anvil is unharmed, the hammers gone.”

—Attributed to John Clifford

REFERENCES

1.https://www.broughtonpublishing.com.au/marriagedoctrineessays/
https://www.broughtonpublishing.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2019/06/marriagedoctrineessays.pdf

2. Articles of Religion 6, 19-22; 2 Timothy 3:16-17

3. Book p. 59

Bishop Rick Lewers, NSW

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Written by: Gavin Perkins

Each of us tends towards optimism or pessimism, and both present dangers. It is certainly possible to lose heart in ministry due to pessimism. The difficulties and trials can seem intractable, the fruit all too scarce, and we lose heart. It is also possible to lose heart in ministry due to over optimism. When the courageous vision collapses around us it is crushing, and we lose heart.

Paul knew all too well that Christian ministry has both its tribulations and triumphs. In 2 Corinthians 4 he makes it clear that losing heart in ministry is a very real phenomenon (2 Cor 4:1, 16). However, he is equally confident that he and his co-workers will not lose heart. Our aim here is to consider the theology and philosophy of ministry that fuelled Paul’s persistence in ministry.

What Paul holds out is a realistic optimism grounded in his understanding of the gospel itself, his own commission, and a clear grasp of the season of salvation history in which we live. He knew and expected the tribulations of ministry, but he also knew and discerned the glorious triumphs of ministry.

In 2 Corinthians, his most personal letter, the apostle Paul identifies death as a metaphor for the normal experience of ministry. His ministry is an ongoing slow death, but one that brings life to others:

We are afflicted in every way… always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. So death is at work in us, but life in you. (2 Cor 4:8-12)

When facing the temptation to lose heart as he was confronted by disdain, division and discord, Paul could say to himself, “Of course it’s like this, ministry is death.” Ministry is a long death march that simultaneously and gloriously brings life, and we must not fall for the lie that it was ever supposed to be anything else. The normal reality of Christian ministry is to feel like a useless clay pot, and yet nevertheless look around and see signs of life because of the all surpassing power of God at work (2 Cor 4:7). For Paul the link between ministry and suffering goes back

to his commissioning. God declares through Ananias that Paul “is a chosen instrument of mine to carry my name before the Gentiles and kings and the children of Israel. For I will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name” (Acts 9:15-16). He is transformed from the one actively engaged in causing suffering for those who bear the name of Christ, to the one who himself suffers for the name of Christ. His commission came with a cost, but a cost he is willing to bear.

It is Paul’s particular role as the initiator of the mission to the Gentiles and their apostle that especially connects him with suffering. Paul makes the link explicit at a crucial turning point of his first missionary journey in Acts 13. He quotes from one of Isaiah’s ‘suffering servant’ songs and claims that his ministry is a fulfilment of those prophecies. Paul and Barnabas’ heightened focus on Gentile mission was driven by theological and not just strategic or pragmatic considerations. In quoting from a servant song (Isa 49:6) Paul declares, “For so the Lord has commanded us, saying, ‘I have made you a light for the Gentiles, that you may bring salvation to the ends of the earth’” (Acts 13:47). In Isaiah 49 the ‘you’ refers to the suffering servant, but here Paul and Barnabas take it as directly referring to them. It is what “the Lord has commanded us”—that is, Paul and his missionary coworkers. The commission to the servant has become for them a command to engage in Gentile mission. As he and Barnabas are engaged in that ministry of the servant, as they plant Gentile churches, Paul unequivocally sees them as fulfilling the ministry of the suffering servant to be a light for the nations and bring salvation to the ends of the earth. In his commission God set Paul apart to proclaim the gospel to the ends of the earth, and as he does the work of the servant, so he will also bear the stripes of the servant. Furthermore, God includes in that commission those who partner with Paul in the work.

As Paul addresses the Corinthian church he can say “we do not lose heart”, and this despite his “light momentary affliction” (2 Cor 4:16-17). A life dedicated to sharing the truth about Jesus to the ends of the earth is hard, but in the context of eternity Paul can brush aside these tribulations. Such things as being beaten up and whipped, thrown in prison and shipwrecked, abandoned by some of his closest friends and co-workers, watching as churches he worked hard to build are torn apart by false teachers, and seeing people abandon Jesus, are but light and momentary troubles (see 2 Cor 11:23-29).

It is instructive that the culmination of his list of sufferings is the “daily pressure on me of my anxiety for all the churches”, for in the midst of the beatings and imprisonments it was Paul’s passionate burden for the health of the church that was his most abiding trial. When they faint, he faints; when they rejoice, he rejoices; and when they wander, he is downcast. And yet as we read on with Paul in 2 Corinthians 4, we see that in the face of eternity these trials are light and momentary; they are preparing us for “an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison” (2 Cor 4:17). It is on that reality that the believer must fix their eyes. Paul grounds his ministry philosophy and self-understanding on the figure of the suffering servant, and the way that frames his own experience in the light of the experience of Christ.

The tribulations of ministry are real, but temporary. The triumphs are often unseen, but they resound for eternity. And so we do not lose heart.

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Written by: Adrian Lane

The Parables of the Mustard Seed and the Yeast
(Luke 13:18-21)

This is the text of a sermon originally preached at St Paul’s Cathedral, Melbourne, for the Bush Church Aid Centenary Celebration Service, 26 May 2019 by Adrian Lane, the Victorian Regional Office of The Bush Church Aid Society.

This year is a great celebration! On the 26 May, 1919, one hundred years ago, “on a wet and windy night, a small gathering of 26 met to form the Bush Church Aid Society.”1 The first Organising Missioner, Syd Kirkby, wrote, “‘A day of small things’ it appeared to be, and, in point of numbers, carrying no great promise to those present.”2

In our gospel reading we read of another “small thing”: a mustard seed, “which a man took and planted in his garden. It grew and became a tree, and the birds of the air perched in its branches.” (v19)3 We also read of another “small thing”: “Yeast, that a woman took and mixed into a large amount of flour, until it worked all through the dough.” (v21) And Jesus says, “This is what the kingdom of God is like.” In other words, “It starts

small.”

Jesus has in mind here a kitchen garden, with its vegies and herbs, and perhaps a few fruit trees or olives. Now, the mustard seed is not necessarily the smallest of seeds, but it’s pretty small. I’ve got one here between my fingers and I can hardly see it. It’s inconspicuous and easily overlooked. Yet when it is sown in good soil and watered, it grows into a substantial tree in the garden: 3 or 4 metres high, so that even “the birds of the air make nests in its branches.”

Or think of the woman adding a small bit of last week’s yeast to her dough. Jesus is talking about a lot of fl our here – probably 22 litres worth. Yet a small amount of yeast works through the whole batch, so that when it’s baked we now have bread for over 100 people.

This is what the kingdom of God is like. It starts small. And it

grows imperceptibly, quietly. You don’t even realise it’s growing till you go away, perhaps for holidays, and come back – and, “My goodness, hasn’t the garden grown!” It’s a bit like teenagers who grow through the summer – you don’t even realise how much they’ve grown till they put on their old school shoes – and they just don’t fi t! They’ve grown, steadily, quietly. Or it’s a bit like some Australian eucalypts that just keep growing, even in tough times, through drought and heat.

Bush Church Aid’s history is a bit like that. Those early founders in 1919 wanted to serve those in isolated parts of Australia – beyond the railway line. Yet think of the difficulties they faced: The First World War with its terrible loss and trauma had only just finished. The Spanish Flu was now taking an even greater toll. Our nation was just 18 years old. And returning soldiers were being sent to dry Mallee blocks that would never be sustaining.

Yet those early founders were committed to reaching all of “Australia for Christ.” They wanted every man, woman and child to hear of his love, of his care, of his death on the cross to pay the penalty for all the wrong they’d ever done, of his physical resurrection from the grave, proving that penalty of death had been paid. They wanted everyone to hear of his gift of his Spirit to all who believe. And they wanted every Australian to have the sure hope of eternal life, in new bodies, with believers from every tribe and nation.

Within 10 years, Ministers and Bush Deaconesses had been sent to Menindee, Cobar, East Gippsland, the Eyre Peninsula and the South Australian border. Hostels had been established at Wilcannia and Mungindi so that isolated kids could go to Primary School. A Sunday School by Post was now reaching 700 children. A hospital had been established at Ceduna, way out on the Bight. Even a plane had been purchased for Padre-Pilot Len Daniels. And 13 students preparing for country ministry were being supported at theological colleges – 8 men and 5 women. Yet all this started small – very small.

I don’t know if you’ve thought about this or not, but all through the Bible we see God starting substantial and eternal things in very small and ordinary ways. God began his people through Abraham and Sarah, who never believed they’d even have children – Abraham was 100 years old! God rescued his people through one man, Joseph, who’d been sold into slavery by his brothers for 20 shekels of silver. God rescued his people again through Moses, who miraculously escaped murder as a baby in a little floating basket! Yet again God rescued his people in exile through Esther, an orphan and a foreigner, who put her life on the line with the king of the empire! And ultimately God rescues his people eternally through a baby born in a cowshed, who himself miraculously escaped murder as an infant. And whoever would have thought that a small dispirited band of followers who’d gone back to fishing after the crucifixion would start a church that now numbers billions?

God loves to make something out of nothing! – just like he rescued the widow and her sons in our first reading – through a little bit of oil, all that she had, that just kept flowing. Don’t despise the small! God’s kingdom starts with the small. God’s eternal, massive kingdom starts with the small.

Secondly, do you notice how the kingdom of God completely transforms?

I don’t know if you’ve ever been to a cheese factory. Into these vast vats of churned milk they throw a couple of handfuls of starter culture. And just like the yeast it quietly works through the whole. A little goes a long way.

Or it’s just like the glassmaker I saw down near Lakes Entrance. Into the clear molten glass she threw the tiniest piece of coloured glass, which completely transformed the whole. So it is with the Kingdom of God. It transforms. It transforms those who believe it. And it transforms those with whom it comes into contact.

I used to work for the Navy. I discovered that whenever I returned from leave, the language on my floor had significantly deteriorated. But as soon as they realised I was back, it suddenly transformed! I hadn’t even told them I was a Christian. And I hadn’t made any comments on their language. In fact, I’d been a bit overwhelmed by the whole culture and was keeping my head down. Yet somehow my shy presence made a difference.

And that’s our prayer at Bush Church Aid – that each of our field staff and their families would make a transformative difference in their communities – as they seek to reach Australia for Christ, whether it be Alfrene as she serves as an Indigenous School Chaplain at Gulargambone, or Ayumi as she teaches Scripture at Gilgandra, or Dale as he cares for people up at Red Cliffs, one of the poorest parts of Victoria. The kingdom of God transforms.

Finally, do you notice how wonderfully delightful the Kingdom of God is, as the birds nest in the mustard tree with their little babies and as we share fresh, crusty bread?

Some years ago I went through a period of chronic illness and was confined to bed. Outside my bedroom window were some fuchsias. The birds just loved their nectar. But fuchsia flowers hang upside-down, on very thin and supple stems. So to get to the nectar the birds had to do a constant variety of upside down acrobatics on bouncing, bending stems. Watching those birds feeding and dancing in the sun in my garden was such a delight – it kept me going through some of my darkest days.

What a delight it is to be part of the kingdom of God, with people from many nations, each seeking to “declare his glory among the nations, his marvellous deeds among all peoples,” as we read in Psalm 96:3. My prayer is that each one of us here has given back to God all that he has given us, and that each one of us here is using all that God has given us to extend his kingdom, to declare his glory among the nations.

God leads each one of us to the harvest fields he’d have us work in – through our prayers, our life, our gifts. My prayer is that we would commit ourselves afresh to reaching Australia for Christ, to serving those in remote, rural and regional Australia, through our prayers, our life, our gifts.

God’s kingdom is like a mustard seed, it’s like yeast. It starts small. It transforms. It’s an eternal delight. Let’s praise God for all that he has done to build his kingdom through Bush Church Aid these last one hundred years, and let’s commit ourselves afresh to growing his kingdom, to reaching Australia for Christ, especially remote, rural and regional Australia.

REFERENCES

1. S. J. Kirkby, These Ten Years, Bush Church Aid, n.d., 5

2. ibid

3. Scripture taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version, 1973, 1978, 1984