This year I’ve returned to an old favourite in my morning devotions – Don Carson’s two volumes For the love of God. I say two volumes, but I’m only using one at a time. Based on McCheyne’s Bible reading programme I’ve been gripped afresh by the Donster’s insightful comments. I really believe these are a great gift for any thinking Christian and can even act as a kind of simple two volume Bible commentary.

These days, you get a daily feed live from The Gospel Coalition blog. I use them in Logos Bible software where they’re £12 each. For a while I think there were free copies knocking around the Interweb, but I’m not sure whether they were legit or not. There’s also an iOS app, though mine stopped working with the last iOS update. I’m glad to report that it seems to be back up and working – my favourite part of it is that when it opens it says “DA Carson would like to send you notifications.” The app is slightly annoying because it’s always a day behind (as with TGC blog).

However you read it, this is a great resource which, despite its age, stands the test of time and is worth recommending to your church.

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about post sermon blues and my own struggles in this area. But the truth is that my preaching crises are not limited to after the sermon. And for me, Friday’s are the days that bite. That’s partly because I used – as a regular joe-pastor – to have Saturday off. Friday was the last full working day on my sermon(s). I would often wake early on Friday worrying things around in my head like a dog worries a bone.

I was saved from this particular Friday feeling by listening to a sermon from the US by CJ Mahaney where he confessed his own struggles with Saturday night feelings (I was much ahead feeling this way on a Friday!). This is the same feeling that makes a preacher go over and over his sermon on Saturday night (and Sunday morning), never satisfied with it.

I found, purely by experience, that a sermon reworked on a Sunday morning was virtually never improved. Indeed, quite the opposite. Thoughts that had been clearly gathered and arranged over the course of several days cannot – generally speaking – suffer the rearrangement half hour that Sunday tinkering brings.

But the issue goes deeper. For my Friday crises (and Saturday and Sunday crises) reveal a lack of confidence in the Spirit of God to do the work of God. If I have prayerfully and carefully prepared, I need to be able to place my sermon before the Lord and commit it to him. He will do what he will do. Sometimes (and you may think this is stupid, but it helped) I would even physically lay out my manuscript on the desk a bit like Hezekiah. I am the workman, nothing more. I do my work. I plant. I water. Sure, but God gives the growth and this truth and this truth alone saved me from the Friday feeling.

There are two new editions of The Proclamation Bible out catering for rather different ends of the markets.

First, there’s an RL Allan Bibles version. Allan almost certainly make the most beautiful Bibles I’ve seen – each is handcrafted with the finest materials. Allan buy the blocks (the inside pages) from publishers and then bind them in finest cow or goat or cat or something. The end result is great to hold – a real tactile Bible. My preaching Bible is an Allan Bible and The Proclamation Bible is a great addition to their range. Quality of this kind does not come cheap, however – yours for £140.

At the other end of the scale, Hodder have now produced a compact edition. At the moment, both the standard and leather bound edition (both wide margin) are hefty beasts; good for the desk or pulpit, but requiring their own baggage allowance. Now, however, there’s going to be a carry-on version. Same page count but in a smaller version. Hoorah. Out in time for the EMA. And £22.99 (probably discounted too) is a lot more manageable.

There’s also a mobile version available through the Olive Tree Bible app. At just $9.99, this is the cheapest way to access the material.

Tom Forryan (Watford) has written a brief but kind review of Teaching 2 Timothy in this month’s EN. He’s perfectly understood what we’re trying to do with our Teaching books and, whatever your level of preaching or teaching, you should find them both accessible and useful.

“Jonathan Griffiths, a tutor on the Cornhill Training Course, has contributed a particularly helpful title. In a short and readable book, he does most of the things a good commentary would do, and more besides. As well as tackling questions such as authorship and date, there are brief notes on each verse and in addition the theme and aim of each passage is identified. There are thoughts on links to contemporary issues and, most usefully, on the message for us today. Griffiths suggests that Paul originally wrote with two readerships in mind, Timothy and the church. So for most of the sections he suggests two different applications – for the church leader and for the believer. Then there are sermon outlines and discussion questions. Anyone wanting to preach through 2 Timothy or lead a study group would find excellent help here.

“Why tackle 2 Timothy? Griffiths gives us nine good reasons and here is one of them: ‘It reminds us why the gospel (and gospel ministry) matters. Paul has a consistently eternal perspective throughout the letter and he casts all his teaching about ministry in the light of eternity. How we and our church families need to be reminded that the gospel really is a matter of life and death!’”

Buy here from tenofthose.com.

I have just been re-reading the book of Daniel in preparation for teaching it at Cornhill, and I was struck afresh by the response Daniel is given to his prayer of national confession in chapter 9. While he was still praying, Gabriel came to him and said, ‘O Daniel, I have now come out to give you insight and understanding. At the beginning of your pleas for mercy a word went out, and I have come to tell it to you, for you are greatly loved. Therefore consider the word and understand the vision’ (Dan. 9:22-23 ESV). Gabriel then proceeds to tell Daniel of God’s plans to answer his prayer and restore Jerusalem.
The term ‘apocalypse’ means an ‘unveiling’, and as an apocalyptic work, the book of Daniel gives us insight into presently unseen spiritual realities that stand behind human history. Very often these insights relate to wider geopolitical matters, but here in Daniel 9:22-23 we are given insight into what happens in heaven when Daniel prays. At the beginning of Daniel’s pleas – before Daniel has even had a chance to say all that he had to say – the Lord takes swift action and sends his response. And we’re told why the Lord responds swiftly: because Daniel is greatly loved.
All this must have come as a huge encouragement to Daniel, living in dark days in a foreign land. He may well have wondered if the Lord still heard his prayers and was still powerful to act. What an encouragement for Daniel to be given this insight into the very workings of the heavenly throne room – and to have this assurance that his prayers are heard and answered by the all-powerful God who loves him greatly. And what an encouragement for us too.

Well, it was a good two weeks in Asia, but can I just say that India is not the place to be when your cricket team are doing so disastrously in the World Cup. A large chunk of the population here live and breath cricket and want to remind you constantly about your team’s poor performance.

But not everybody.

India, like many places, is complex. Take sport for example. The national sport of India, anybody?

That’s right: field hockey. A sport that is relatively elite. Cricket is much more evenly spread. Football is increasingly popular. In villages, local sports often dominate. India has also produced some top tennis players – grand slam winners mixed doubles pair Mahesh Bhupati and Sania Mirza, but, again, this is an elite sport. India is a large country made up of – in effect – many different nations and religions. Sporting interest often follows some of those lines.

In short things are complex. British preachers often come here and think that if they use cricketing illustrations, they will win over congregations. Not true. It’s simply playing to a stereotype. Like most places in the world, culture here is complex.

Which brings me my home congregation. I want to make my preaching culturally accessible and relevant – that is part of the key work of a preacher as he ‘lands’ the sermon. However, sweeping generalisations about church congregations generally will not do.

Rather, there is no alternative to a settled long-term ministry in which the preacher gets to know and love his congregation and is able to preach to them as his own people. Even in complex cultures, this is the ministry that counts.

I’ve been leading a small Cornhill missions team this last week. We’ve been abroad somewhere hot and somewhere increasingly difficult to be a Christian. It’s probably not appropriate for me to say where (or necessary, even) because I don’t want to put believers at risk. But, as ever, my heart has been stirred and my faith has been challenged by being with believers from a different culture. For sure, other cultures have their blind spots – and they are painfully obvious. But, more to the point, being with Christians in another culture allows us to see our own blind spots more clearly. And it’s this I want to write about this week.

We need to stop wallowing in self-pity. Period.

We have this rather curious notion that Christians in the UK are being persecuted. I just want to say: can we not call it that, please? It is undoubtedly harder to be a Christian in the UK than it has been for some time. But we are not being persecuted. Not really. To claim that we are does a great disservice to brothers and sisters around the world for whom daily persecution and facing death all day long is a reality.

The trouble is that when we convince ourselves that our persecution is real and deep, our reaction is to wallow in self pity. And that’s ugly. I have met several pastors here for whom church burning, threat of death and family reprisals are a reality. The one thing you never see in them is self-pity. I see all kinds of reactions and emotions, but – on the whole – these are godly and honourable. They don’t even ask to pray that persecution would stop: rather that they would endure (a lesson for every church prayer meeting back home!). Having to change the way we run our B&B seems rather inconsequential in comparison.

Perhaps I am being too harsh. I am not suffering back home, and there are some whose very livelihoods are on the line. So forgive me if I have spoken out of turn. Nevertheless, there is a kind of persecution complex that we all rather like and embrace. As long as it’s not too dangerous that is. It gives us the chance to be the centre of attention for once. Never mind brothers and sisters around the world.

As if our troubles are anything in comparison.

As if.

I’ve been leading a small Cornhill missions team this last week. We’ve been abroad somewhere hot and somewhere increasingly difficult to be a Christian. It’s probably not appropriate for me to say where (or necessary, even) because I don’t want to put believers at risk. But, as ever, my heart has been stirred and my faith has been challenged by being with believers from a different culture. For sure, other cultures have their blind spots – and they are painfully obvious. But, more to the point, being with Christians in another culture allows us to see our own blind spots more clearly. And it’s this I want to write about this week.

Colonial rule is a difficult thing to get your head around. At one level, you can always find things about it that were good; but you can always find things about it that were bad. Take Christianity. Colonial rule here opened a door for the gospel of which much was made, and there continues to be a harvest from works and efforts started 150 and 200 years ago. Good. But Christianity still carries the stigma of a western religion and, worse, the religion of the colonisers. That hinders the gospel as much as other things prosper it. In some places in this country, Christianity is profoundly un-national.

In broader terms, I’m embarrassed by our colonial past. Try as we might to make something of it (“it gave the country a decent judicial system”), the overall defence is not convincing. Worse still it is often something to be ashamed of. Thankfully Christians are forgiving and accepting. Many have long memories, often stretching back generations, but they do not hold grudges against individuals and we are warmly welcome. But with those who are not believers it’s another matter altogether. And so I’m convinced that continued western investment needs to be in local Christian people to raise up local leaders who will lead local movements. For example, I am increasingly convinced that there is more merit in a Western leader coming somewhere like this and spending a week with just ONE local leader, than speaking a conference for hundreds of pastors.

That’s a different kind of investment model that many churches (or their missions budgets) would be comfortable with. But I’m sure it has merit and needs some consideration. It also does away with the myth that we have all the answers to every situation.

Which is only another kind of colonialism really.

I’ve been leading a small Cornhill missions team this last week. We’ve been abroad somewhere hot and somewhere increasingly difficult to be a Christian. It’s probably not appropriate for me to say where (or necessary, even) because I don’t want to put believers at risk. But, as ever, my heart has been stirred and my faith has been challenged by being with believers from a different culture. For sure, other cultures have their blind spots – and they are painfully obvious. But, more to the point, being with Christians in another culture allows us to see our own blind spots more clearly. And it’s this I want to write about this week.

Prayer. I read just last week that the great tragedy of the western church was the declining church prayer meeting. There’s some truth there. The church where I minister was founded on a deep commitment to corporate prayer where Saturday night prayer meetings often attracted 1,000 plus. Today’s church prayer meetings are puny in comparison. I’m thinking about this having attended an all night prayer meeting. Our immediate reaction to such an event is that it is totally unnecessary: a typical piece of Asian enthusiasm which smacks of a kind of repulsive self-righteousness.

There may be some truth in the stereotype, but it is largely unfair and unfounded. There are also some precedents for all night prayer (think about it!). More basically, Christians here have a deep commitment to prayer and on waiting on God in prayer. I can’t pretend that all the prayers were theologically robust. That’s to be expected when young Christians pray! Nevertheless, the spirit of prayer was extraordinary. And this same spirit seems to apply to all walks of life. Nothing is beyond prayer. People are always thanking God.

I don’t think we’ll ever really get people praying in the UK and the west until they feel the need to pray. It can never be a duty – or if it is, will scarcely move beyond the momentary. What this means, in practice, is that we need to feel our poverty more. We need to feel our spiritual poverty more, we need to feel our evangelistic poverty more, we need to feel our effectual poverty more – but most fundamentally we need to feel the poverty of our walk with Christ. I’m sure that until we’re shaken out of our mediocrity, prayer will always be an after thought. Do we dare pray, therefore, for a spirit of supplication ( ). I’m not at all sure that such a prayer answered would not come with a refining time for the church which causes us to throw ourselves at God’s throne.

And perhaps that’s no bad thing.

For the past few years, a small army of volunteers have hosted EMA guests for the two or three nights of the conference. There a number of people for whom the cost of accommodation in London would hinder their attendance and these generous offers of somewhere to stay make all the difference.

This year’s EMA runs from 22-24th June. So, if you live in London and are able to help, please let us know at confs@proctrust.org.uk .  And if you’re ministering in a London church, could you ask folk in the church whether they might be able to accommodate anybody? Thank you in advance for your generosity and help.

PS: We are also looking for hosts for the Cornhill Summer School which is the week after EMA (29th June- 3rd July) ; if you are able to help then, let us know about that too!