Anna vs. Yun

I think God is really big! I suppose this is stating the obvious but I don't just mean his dimensions, or lack of them; God is big in every way we can imagine and in all the other ways we can't.

I've been reading The Heavenly Man, the story of a Chinese Christian called Brother Yun who has seen thousands of people become Christians whilst undergoing horrific persecution in communist China. The thing is, I don't understand how both Yun and I can exist and be loved by God.

This man has suffered so much for his faith, refusing to renounce Christ during months of torture, he memorized large sections of the Bible and preached and taught from memory rather than from a nice Bible of his own and a million other theology books and discipleship tools. His ministry has been incredibly fruitful and continues to equip and release missionaries from China to the rest of the world. I however live comfortably, with relatively insignificant challenges spending much of my time thinking about theological minutae in the hope that I will have some significance in building the kingdom of God. How can we both be reconciled to the standard Christian understanding of God? How am I allowed to exist?

The only possible answer is that God is big, bigger than I could ever presume to understand and that his grace, the basis on which he accepts me, is magnificent, pure and simple.

Better is one day in you!

In Michael Frost's 'Exiles, Living Missionally in a Post-Christian Culture' he argues for a more holistic concept of worship using a reformulation of Psalm 84:10; he writes it 'one day in the house is great but so are a thousand elsewhere'. His point is to confront a dependence on buildings and formulaic worship services in our personal and corporate lives with God.

This got me thinking, and whilst Frost has a point he makes the basic assumption that the psalmists words are directly applicable to our new covenant 'church' buildings and Sunday gatherings. I think there is stronger support for his point and a much broader statement to make by recognising the inherently 'old covenant' nature of the psalmist's words.

In Psalm 84 the psalmist is longing and looking for a home in God; the temple, its courts and altars are the places of encounter, of God's presence. The hunger of the psalmist resonates with hope of finding refreshment and restoration in the presence of God. The wonder of Christ's death and resurrection is 'Christ in me, the hope of glory'; we still hunger for the presence of God and we can be satisfied, not only in the temple but by experiencing our 'in Christ-ness'. We are his temple both our individual bodies and more fully our communities of faith. Better is one day in Christ, knowing his indwelling Spirit in me and in a community of believers than a thousand outside of Christ, his person and his power.

This verse seen in the light of the resurrection is a trumpet call to a world dispossessed, the hope of a home and hunger fulfilled in Christ.