You've got to love a good cliché. World Cup punditry is an endless stream of games of two halves, which aren’t over till they're over. Our esteemed politicians accuse each other ad nauseam of the cardinal sin of being "out of touch" and a short but potent list of other favourites. Even from the well of creative inspiration that is romance, more often than not we draw the same phrases, perhaps beginning with the astute observation that roses are often red whilst on the contrary violets are primarily blue.
But the thing is, clichés often become clichés because they are true.
They are phrases worth repeating, telling us truth worth remembering.
Clearly some are manifestly incorrect (for example "I'm sure it will be fine" tends to ring a little hollow in the wake of serious pain and loss, and "What's for you won’t pass you by" doesn’t necessarily inoculate us from the effects of failing to take the opportunities providence offers) but many are quite profound.
"Christianity isn't religion, it's a relationship".
Now there's a cliché.
But, unlike the blind determination that "what's for us" will not be missed, this particular cliché is true. And, unlike romantic assertions about flowers and colours, it is a cliché which is very much worth remembering.
A friend of mine on Sunday was (amongst other things) speaking about this distinction, and the corrosive effects that religion can have on us and our attitudes to both self and other. As often happens to me, I was struck with the realisation that God had been reminding me of that for a while (I am not blessed with the most sensitive set of spiritual ears, and like sending texts through the intermittent reception at my childhood home, it usually takes a few attempts to get through!)
"Christianity isn't religion, it's a relationship".
This is a statement that I have always adhered to wholeheartedly, usually as a pithy rebuttal to those who assume that my faith boils down to the bending of my will to comply with a set of moral and ethical precepts.
Perhaps, I confess, I have even thought of the phrase as a neat rebuke to those whose Christianity is borne more out of habit than holiness, more tradition than truth, and more law than love.
But the good Lord has been gently (but disconcertingly firmly) suggesting that I might be wrong to point the finger elsewhere whilst remaining ignorant of my three fingers returning serve (to keep with clichés).
In particular, God has been causing me to ask where my allegiances, devotions and passions lie.
Is my life devoted to Jesus, or is my life devoted to acts of service, ministry and (inhale)…religion?
Is my identity rooted in my role as a leader, an influencer, a speaker, an encourager, a [insert ministry or gifting function]…. or is my identity rooted in loving and being loved by Jesus?
If Christianity is relationship; if my true passion is Jesus; if my core identity is being loved by and loving him… then certain things need to change. Patterns of thought. Tendencies towards get-the-job-done-Martha instead of sit-at-his-feet-Mary. And of course, by sitting at his feet more, the job will actually get done better and with far more fruitfulness as a result. As Luther knew, when he said he was too busy not to spend three hours daily in prayer and worship.
Our faith is not first and foremost about holiness and right-living, about church and community, about service and ministry and saving the world. It is, first and foremost, about a relationship with Jesus.
Like any friendship, the only way to deepen relationship is to invest in it. Time to get to know Jesus again.
A couple of months back I preached a sermon which came out of what God had spoken to me very powerfully and personally about my identity. The short version is that over the past 10 years, God told me that he had, like an apple, removed my core, broken me apart, and pieced me back together around a new identity: being unconditionally loved by God.
Given that prior conversation with the Almighty, I responded to this most recent heavenly tap on my earthly shoulder with an objection, along these lines:
"Gosh...I don't mean to be rude, Jesus, but haven't we dealt with that issue… I mean I did preach a sermon on it… I'm meant to have that one sorted now…"
Clear as day came heaven's answer (I could be wrong, but with a hint of a laugh):
"Stage Two"
Perhaps, for those as dim-witted as me, some lessons need repeating.
"Christianity isn't religion, it's a relationship".
