جارٍ تحميل الأرشيف الحي.
لم تُترجم هذه الصفحة بالكامل بعد. يظهر بعض النص أدناه أو كله بلغة English، وهي لغته الأصلية.
Emmanuel Church Northwood Service
واصِل الاستكشاف
مرتبطة بالمقطع الكتابي أو بموضوعات مشتركة.
Good morning everyone. It's great to be together, and what a joy to share this message at the end of our series. Our world is searching desperately for real community and authentic relationships. The Guardian recently reported that the single biggest epidemic in the United Kingdom is loneliness and isolation. Yet God created us to live in healthy relationships with others to advance His kingdom.
I remember a men's curry night we held at the local restaurant. Twenty-two men from 15 different ethnicities, aged from a teenager to someone in their eighties—everything in between. One of the locals said to me: "What the chuff are you lot?" I asked what he thought we were. He said, "Well, you've got a vicar, so I reckon you're church. But what else?" Then he said, "I think you're the church because there's no other group in Northwood that could get so distinctive and inclusive and diverse a bunch of people around a table together enjoying themselves."
There's something beautiful about church that the world can see and notice. In Ephesians 4, Paul descends from lofty theological talk about our two humanities and the Christ we have learned, down to the reality of gritty individual and corporate Christian behavior: telling the truth, controlling our anger, honesty at work, kindness of speech, forgiveness, love, and sexual self-control.
Holiness is not some mystical condition experienced in isolation from other human beings. You can't be godly in a vacuum—only in the realm of other people. The Lord is calling us to be family, not mere associates.
In this passage, Paul gives six examples, but I want to focus on three:
"Therefore each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to your neighbor, for we are all members of one body." (Ephesians 4:25)
This should be obvious, but the fact it's written shows there's a real danger. Fellowship is built on trust, and trust is built on truth. Falsehood undermines fellowship; truth strengthens it.
We are living in a day where people genuinely believe they can pledge, "I'm going to speak my truth, my own truth, and nothing but my truth." We live in that world. Someone's experience is thought to override any form of absolute truth. But as the people of God, we need to hold to the fact that there is absolute truth. Jesus is not one of many options—He's "the way, the truth, and the life." That kind of absolute truth does not change, no matter what the cultural headwinds are.
We need to be people of truth with one another. But here's the harder question: Do people get close enough to you to speak direct truth to you? Our culture says, "Just endorse, don't challenge." But you can't have deep friendship without the ability to challenge one another. How do you do discipleship if you can't challenge people?
Max Lucado says, "God loves you just the way you are." Everyone thinks that's brilliant. But he also says, "But I'm not about to leave you that way. I want you to be like Jesus." We need to speak truth to each other to help each other become more like Jesus.
A pastor I've known for twenty years told me at coffee: "I think you're a really gifted man, but I'm not sure if you're a holy man. How's your holiness? And you've got a massive mouth—how's your listening when you're listening to Jesus, not just talking to Him? You're past 30 now. If you're going to achieve everything you could do for the kingdom, you need to love Jesus more and stop thinking that your activity is more important than your intimacy."
That day transformed my life. You've got to let people get close enough to you that they can speak truth into your life. We've got to allow ourselves to speak truth to one another, knowing we're for each other and we're going somewhere together.
"In your anger do not sin. Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, and do not give the devil a foothold." (Ephesians 4:26–27)
Scripture teaches us there are two kinds of anger: righteous and unrighteous. Righteous anger is anger under control because it's God-driven. When Jesus turned over the tables in the temple, it was righteous anger—the sellers were charging the poor 10 to 15 times as much as the rich for an animal for worship. Jesus said, "This is wrong. You cannot exploit the poor this way."
But this passage is talking about unrighteous anger. Don't get wound up with each other. Don't lose your temper. But here's the beautiful part: we're given the solution straight away. Don't go to bed on an argument.
Imagine if this church never went to bed on an argument—however small. Imagine if we dealt with every disagreement that day, so it wasn't allowed to grow. The enemy wants to get a foothold in the middle of community, and if we don't deal with it, it grows bigger and bigger. One of the sad sides of my work is dealing with various church problems and even denominational splits. They never start with anything massive—they start with something small that goes unchecked and grows huge.
It's like feeding a baby tiger with milk. It's cute and cuddly. But if you don't deal with that little tiger, it becomes a massive man-eating tiger that will kill you. We need to deal with stuff when it's small. Say sorry. Don't go to bed on an argument.
"Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you." (Ephesians 4:31–32)
We need to be kind. I really believe that in ministry I'm called to be outrageously brave and really kind. Those two things can go together. We can be distinct from the culture and also genuinely kind.
But we also need to be wise. There come points where we try to do the right thing but do it really unkindly. When I was at Bible college, a chapel speaker asked: "Is there anyone here you've judged wrongly? Anyone you doubted God could love? Anyone you think doesn't belong in ministry? Anyone you dislike or feel bitter toward?" He invited us to reconcile.
At the end, nobody moved except people lined up to apologize to me. Person after person said, "I'm so sorry I misjudged you. I'm so sorry I didn't think you could be a Christian." By the end, the whole college felt better—but I felt like goodness, what am I? So even when we're speaking truth, we need to be compassionate and kind in how we do it.
We need to acknowledge every gift and individual. Sometimes our bad relating comes from comparing ourselves to others. Comparison is the thief of joy. Remember: when God made you, He didn't make a mistake. He didn't make you like that person, just not quite as good. He made you to play your part in the kingdom.
When I was a kid, we used to wear t-shirts at youth festivals that said: "When God made me, He was showing off." You know what? They had a point. We are the pinnacle of God's creation. When He made you, He threw the mold away—not because it was broken, but because one of you is enough.
But the beautiful thing about living and relating in the kingdom is that when all those unique people come together, you have a body that can change the world. There's a simple children's song: "You gave me a heart and you gave me a smile, you gave me Jesus and you made me a child." If you can sing that and mean it, if you can truly thank God for making you who you are, then we get beyond the need to tear each other down. We say, "Lord, thank You that I'm me. Help me now be a blessing to those around me."
When my wife Anne became pregnant again after our first daughter, we planned to go to America for Thanksgiving. But days before our flight, Anne went upstairs and realized she was bleeding. We went to the hospital the next morning. I stood there staring at the ultrasound screen, pretending it was cute (it looks like a combination between a sultana and a mushroom), and the midwife said, "Reverend Calvary, I'm so sorry. Your baby doesn't have a heartbeat. Your baby has died in the womb."
It was a really difficult, painful time. We drove home in silence with a car full of suitcases and Christmas presents. We sat there broken, not knowing what to do. Then the doorbell rang. Our friends from church arrived, laden with all the shopping we needed. They sat with us and cried as we explained what we were going through. They prayed with us. They helped us empty the car.
There's something about true community where it's not just when people are watching or when things are going well. True community means people know you well enough, are close enough to you, to know what's happening and to be there for you.
I know we all have lives and we're all busy. But the church has got to start doing better at being a genuine community showing one another that we really love one another.
This passage shows us what we shouldn't do, but it also shows us what we could do. We really could be people who:
In John 17, Jesus prayed that the church would be so united that the world would be drawn to Him. In this season, if we're going to live in the kind of community we need, we need to stop comparing ourselves to others and start saying, "Thank You, Lord, that I am who I am."
I really believe that for some of us today, we need to choose to forgive even before an apology comes. We're carrying around hurts and difficulties that other believers have placed on us. We can choose to forgive, to not carry that baggage anymore. For the season ahead, the church needs to be fleet of foot, agile, and mobile—not weighed down by unresolved hurts.
So whatever the Lord has highlighted for you today—whether you need to say sorry to somebody, or you're aware you've been feeding that little tiger of anger, or you need to let someone get close enough to speak truth into your life, or you need to take a stand for Jesus in your workplace—respond to what God is calling you to do. He didn't make a mistake when He made you.
