The Love of Christ

Rev. Stephen Steele reviews his favourite book of 2021:

I spent most of the last year reading slowly through ‘The Love of Christ’ by Richard Sibbes - and it was one of the best things I did.

Of the 60+ Puritan Paperbacks, this is one of the longest, if not the longest, at 360 pages. It consists of sermons on Song of Solomon chapters 4-6, first published under the title ‘Bowels Opened’ in 1639. 

I first came across the book via Mike Reeves, who writes the foreward. As Reeves points out, the standard Puritan interpretation of the Song as a parable of the love between Christ and his Church is not held by the majority of commentators today - but ‘even if Sibbes is misappropriating the Song, the wonderful truths he expounds still stand’. Yet Sibbes is both careful and convincing in his exegesis, comparing Scripture with Scripture throughout and warning of the need to be ‘wary’ in applying some of the finer details (p. 285). Above all, he warms our hearts by fixing our attention on Jesus Christ and his love for his people. 

Sibbes believed that ‘it is the special office of the ministry to lay [Christ] open’ (p. 313) and he practiced what he preached. In fact, Sibbes’ sermons are a challenge to preachers today in how far short of this we sometimes fall. The consequences of a diet of sermons which major on ‘try harder’ will be tragic, because ‘our nature is such that we cannot love but where we know ourselves to be loved first’ and so ‘if the soul be not persuaded of Christ’s love it runs away from him’ (p. 340).

‘All preaching’, he says, ‘is that we may be able to say without deceiving our souls, “I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine”’ (p. 347). Like Thomas Chalmers two centuries later, Sibbes believed in the expulsive power of a new affection: ‘One main end of our calling is to draw the affections of those who belong to God to Christ’ (p. 264).

Throughout the book, Sibbes (who died in 1635) quotes from the Geneva Bible, which results in some memorable renderings of familiar passages, eg ‘all things work together for the best’ (Romans 8:28), ‘with our eyes we saw his majesty’ (2 Peter 1:16); ‘I will not fail thee, neither forsake thee’ (Hebrews 13:5).

Unlike some of Sibbes’ other works in the Puritan Paperbacks series, the text has not been modernised; instead footnotes have been added to explain archaic words. As a purist, this is the approach that I much prefer - though a smattering of archaic or obscure words remain unexplained (eg ‘amain’, ‘tush’, ‘bane’ (in the sense of poison), ‘prevent’, ‘want’.) A typo has also crept into p. 132 where ‘loves till’ stands in place of ‘love still’. 

The fact that some of the earlier sermons are significantly longer than the others might mean that some will struggle to get into the book, but it will well reward those who stick with it. Sibbes is a joyful expositor who bubbles over with the love of Christ. Lloyd-Jones could testify to the help that Sibbes’ ‘Bruised Reed’ gave him at a particularly low point, and ‘The Love of Christ’ is similarly powerful. 

It will help guard against unbalanced introspection: when recommending self-examination, Sibbes encourages us to look for good within us rather than just evil, in order that we may be joyful and thankful (p. 47).

It will help protect against legalism: ‘Is not his obedience enough for us? Shall we need patch it up with our own righteousness?’ (p. 331)

It will help keep from despair: ‘In the most disconsolate state of a Christian soul, there is light enough in the soul to show…that it is day with the soul and not night’ (p. 212)

It will help us stand against Satan’s accusations: Just like a wife not liable for her own debts can say to a creditor ‘Go to my husband’, so we can tell Satan to go to Christ: ‘When we cannot answer him, send him to Christ’ (pp 333-4).

In short, it would be hard not to come away from the book rejoicing that ‘there is more righteousness in Christ than there is sin in me’ (p. 272).

Highly recommended, particularly for ministers of the gospel. We and our people need these truths!

Christmas reminds us that we can’t redeem ourselves

Following Manchester United’s 5-0 home defeat to Liverpool at the end of October, striker Marcus Rashford took to social media to say ‘We’re working hard to try and fix this. We have to redeem ourselves’. Things continued to get worse, however, and less than a month later, United legend Ole Gunnar Solskjaer’s time as manager came to an end. Since then the ship has been steadied, first by temporary interim manager Michael Carrick, and now by more-permanent interim manager Ralph Rangnick.

Although the picture at Old Trafford is now very different, I’ve thought quite a lot about Rashford’s words since I first read them. In fact, his comment ‘We have to redeem ourselves’ provides two very different ways of approaching Christmas.

At this time of year, many of us get a sense that we haven’t been living the way we should have been over the previous 11 months. Even if we wouldn’t admit it, we recognise that we’ve probably been a bit self-centred, and that our priorities have been fairly narrowly-focused. And so we try to redeem ourselves with acts of kindness. Food banks and homeless shelters don’t struggle for volunteers over Christmas.

Not that I’m knocking a bit of Christmas kindness. An awareness of our blessings should certainly make us more keenly aware of those who have so much less than us. As the two men who asked Scrooge for a donation put it, ‘it is a time, of all others, when Want is keenly felt, and Abundance rejoices’.

But if we’re doing our good deeds in an effort to redeem ourselves, then we’ve missed the point of what Christmas is all about.

And on the other side of the coin – if we’ve realised that we’ve done so many bad things that we couldn’t possibly redeem ourselves – what amazingly good news it is to hear of someone who came to redeem those who could never redeem themselves.

After all, why did Jesus come into the world? Why was he born as a baby in Bethlehem 2,000 years ago?

Was it just in order that he might be an example for us? That’s probably what most people think. We’ve perhaps heard that Jesus came to save us from our sins. But we tend to think that he ‘saves’ us by showing how to do better. We’re still the ones who need to redeem ourselves.

Even when we recognise our excesses over Christmas, our first reaction is to try and turn over a new leaf in January. Whether it’s through New Year’s Resolutions, Dry January or whatever – our default reaction is to try and redeem ourselves.

But in doing so, we get things completely upside down. We forget that the very reason Jesus came was because we can’t redeem ourselves – and so we need someone else to redeem us.

The words of John the Baptist’s father Zechariah are often read at this time of year. His first words in response to the news of the coming of Jesus are ‘Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has visited and redeemed his people’.

From the very beginning, Jesus’ arrival into the world was seen as bringing redemption.

But how was that redemption achieved?

It came about through that little baby growing up. As the prophets had foretold for centuries, it would require his death to bring us life. He would take the curse we deserved, in order that we might know undeserved blessing. As the Apostle Paul put it in a letter he wrote to Christians in Galatia: ‘Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us’.

On the face of it, the life of someone trying to redeem themselves, and the life of someone trusting in Jesus, might look pretty similar. They’ll both do good things – but their motivation will be completely different.

In fact, trying to redeem ourselves is lifelong slavery – because we’ll never quite be sure if we’ve done enough. Whereas knowing that we’ve been redeemed by the sacrifice of another sets us free to live for him and pour ourselves out for others.

To say ‘We have to redeem ourselves’ is ultimately to reject the true joy on offer to us at Christmas. It’s to look at God’s greatest gift to us – his own Son – and say ‘I don’t need him’. It’s to sing with Frank Sinatra ‘I did it my way’.

But if our way worked, Jesus wouldn’t have needed to come.

So this Christmas – are you still trying to redeem yourself? Or have you met the Redeemer?

Published in the Stranraer & Wigtownshire Free Press, 23 December 2021

40 years in Stranraer!

Last year marked 40 years since Rev. Gerald Milligan’s induction as minister in Stranraer. Due to coronavirus restrictions, we weren’t able to mark this anniversary at the time, but we were finally able to do so at a congregational meal held at Henry’s Bay House on 20th November.

At the close of the meal, our current minister, Rev. Stephen Steele, paid tribute to his predecessor for his work in the congregation and community (past and present). Gerald and Ruth were then presented with gifts and flowers to mark the occasion.

You can read the report in the local paper below:

The problem with 'authenticity'

An album that was released just days ago has already become the best-selling record of 2021. Adele’s 30, the first new album from the English singer-songwriter in 6 years, has shot to the top of the charts. It’s certainly not an easy listen, however. 30 has been described as her ‘Divorce album’, with every song saturated with the emotion of her divorce from husband Simon Konecki.

In fact, in her own words, the album was an attempt to explain the divorce to her young son when he gets older. Here’s how she put it: 

‘I just felt like I wanted to explain to him, through this record, when he’s in his twenties or thirties, who I am, and why I voluntarily chose to dismantle his entire life in the pursuit of my own happiness’.

Personally, I’m not sure what’s more shocking – the quote itself or that we’re now at a point in history where such statements are more likely to be greeted by applause than criticism.

Sacrificing even those nearest and dearest to us for our own personal happiness is now applauded. ‘I changed who I was to put you both first,’ she sings, ‘but now I give up’. According to the magazine editor the BBC interviewed about it, ‘that’s a really positive message’.

We used to at least pretend to be altruistic – now we can act however we like, no matter how much it hurts others, as long as we are being ‘authentic’. From ‘I’m just saying what I feel’ to ‘I just had to walk away from my wife and children’ – we’re just being true to ourselves. We’re just expressing ourselves authentically.

Obviously, I believe in being honest and genuine, but often ‘authenticity’ is less about being honest and more a justification for doing what we want despite the needs of others around us. It is the great whitewash agent of the 21st century, used to excuse much.

Authenticity seems to be premised in the crazy idea that we are somehow innately good, and in being authentic we are somehow peeling back the layers to expose that innate goodness.

But the last thing society wants from me is for me to be authentic! I have many natural impulses and instincts which need to be restrained and rooted out. Self-control needs to be exercised so that life is liveable for those around me! 

We are flawed individuals, flawed from the day we were born. We have attitudes and appetites don’t need expressed, but restrained. Oscar Wilde understood this, and in his novel The Picture of Dorian Gray the portrait of Gray becomes uglier and uglier as Gray himself gives free reign to his expressiveness and his appetites.

In addition, to be authentic leaves us completely wrapped up in ourselves – doing what I want regardless of the impact it has on others. I have to be true to me – the rest of you can live with the consequences. Such authenticity is fundamentally selfish. 

What is the alternative to authenticity? Is it hypocrisy? Pretending to be something we aren’t? Certainly not. The alternatives are self-control and other-centredness. These forgotten traits are still greatly admired when we see them. Long after the buzz of the latest celebrity being ‘authentic’ has been forgotten about, the people around us who are gentle in their speech, genuine in their concern, and servant-hearted in their action continue to make an impression on us.

These qualities grow out of self-awareness and love for others. Life isn’t about me; it’s about me in connection with others. Love and community call us to consider our actions in light of the impact on those around us. And so we recognise that we are flawed and instead of giving vent to our flaws and thus reinforcing them, we restrain them.

But we need more than to restrain them. We all need transformation. We need rescued from ourselves. That’s why when Jesus came to earth he spoke of the need for the new birth – and why he told one of the most respected religious people of his day that far from his religious works saving him, he needed to be ‘born again’.

We are actually at our most authentic when we admit who we really are and, instead of wearing it as a badge, seek God’s help to make us into who we were designed to be.

Don’t be ‘authentic’; seek the only one who was truly authentic – Jesus Christ – and he will make you more authentically you than you could ever have imagined.

Published in the Stranraer & Wigtownshire Free Press, 2nd December 2021.
(Largely based on this article by Mark Loughridge)