Send forth your light and your truth, let them guide me; let them bring me to your holy mountain, to the place where you dwell. Then will I go to the altar of God, to God, my joy and my delight. I will praise you with the harp, O God, my God. Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Saviour and my God.
You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men.
These are the words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the ruler of God’s creation. I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm – neither hot nor cold – I am about to spit you out of my mouth.
Stir up, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy faithful people; that they, plenteously bringing forth the fruit of good works, may of thee be plenteously rewarded; through Jesus Christ our Lord.
(From: the Book of Common Prayer, the collect for the 25th Sunday after Trinity)
I am not by nature one of life’s optimists; not an entertainer, or source of endless jokes and funny anecdotes. Life to me seems a very earnest business, and while I love to laugh and be with people who are positive and funny, it would be wrong for me to aspire to be like them. I am, to put it very poetically, one of the darker shades in life’s tapestry!
Given that temperamental foundation, what does my Lord ask of me, as his witness and a channel of his love and messenger of the gospel to my community? I am to be as salt – that which brings savour, has a strong taste and cannot be ignored. I am to be noticeable, one whose life and message provoke thoughtful response. I am to be fruitful in works which glorify God, and bless others. He does not ask for a change in temperament, but he does look for a passionate, committed life, one which at every level reflects my dependence upon and delight in him; a life which speaks clearly of a close and loving relationship with the Lord Jesus.
I don’t know how my community would judge me on these things at present; but I fear that I am far more like the lukewarm, bland and nauseating church at Laodicea, who were condemned in such strong language by the faithful and true witness of Revelation. I am ashamed of my lack of passion, of the way in which I seem so often to fail in witnessing to the transforming and life-sustaining power of Christ.
Is this because I have never known it truly for myself? Surely, once a believer has come into that relationship with Christ they are for ever after going to be on fire for him? Actually, I believe that our lives as believers do ebb and flow, and that while we cannot but be ashamed of the times when we feel so utterly lacking in passion, yet we dare not condemn ourselves. The devil would love nothing more than to see saints write themselves off as a result of feelings; when the reality of our salvation and our hope is not our feelings about them, but the truth of God’s power and promises.
So in my shame and coldness of heart, I cling to and echo the prayer of the psalmist, begging that God will send his light and his truth in power, to guide me – by that truth which cannot change – back to his sanctuary, to the place of intimate fellowship with him; the place where I am filled with joy and passion again in praising him. And I echo the old words of the prayer book, asking God to stir up my soul, by his Spirit to reawaken my desire for him. It is his work, and he alone can accomplish it. I want to be so full of the beauty and wonder of the gospel that it spills out continually in all my conversations; I want to be so attuned to the Spirit within me that I can discern where God is working in other people’s lives and so align myself with that work; I long to be part of seeing his kingdom grow in this place…
Even the darkest shades in a tapestry have depths of colour and make a significant contribution to the beauty of the picture; let me be content to be a dark shade, but Lord, fill me with the intensity of colour and depth of passion that comes from a growing understanding of the wonder of your love for me.