Every few months I try to splash out on a decent bottle of single malt. This week, it felt like the right time to purchase a cheeky bottle. The labels stood in front of me like proud statues boasting of a better result than their neighbours. I’d never tasted Singleton, probably due to its £26 price. However, I’d been putting a fair shift in during recent times and thought I’d treat myself.

The young lad at the checkout scanned my evening meal and the single malt through, which all came to around £60. As I left Tesco, I felt the need to check the receipt and found the whisky had gone through twice! I strolled calmly to customer service where I received an apology, a refund and something incredible. Part of the Tesco customer policy is to refund double the difference where someone is overcharged. It dawned on me as I returned to my car: Tesco had effectively given me a top quality bottle of single malt for free.

Before I set off, my excitement got the better of me. I called my two close friends and let them know the incredible news. Both men arrived at my house an hour later, where we enjoyed a bottle of Singleton courtesy of Tesco.

However, as I sipped my deluxe nightcap, I pondered a challenging question. Would I have asked my friends to join me for a whisky if I had bought the bottle myself? Truthfully, not a chance. The reason I shared so willingly, was because I was given it for free and I felt it was right to share it. Why then, do I hesitate to share the wonderful Christian message to those who are desperate for meaning in their lives? After all, the story of Jesus came to me freely, and it cost God a lot more than a bottle of single malt.

How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them?

- Romans 10:14

Have you ever heard a friend say, “I’d like to believe in Jesus but …”?

Perhaps you’re at the pub with your mates or having lunch with a colleague. The conversation turns to you and your faith and suddenly it feels like something a little deeper. You share a little bit, unsure of how far to really push it. And your mates, being mates, push back.

There are a thousand and one ways to find Jesus and just as many obstacles that can get in the way of Him. For some people they’d love to believe in Jesus, they really would, but they have this [intellectual barrier] [emotional barrier] [why-should-I-care barrier] (delete as appropriate).

Christian Vision for Men is all about introducing men to Jesus. To do that sometimes a little boulder removal is necessary. A little bit of heavy lifting is required to remove the obstacles that obstruct people’s view of Jesus.

That’s why CVM has set up the Demolition Squad.

1 Peter 3:15 instructs us to “Always be prepared to give a defence of the hope that you have to those that ask.” The Demolition Squad aims to help equip you guys on the front line to do just that.

Comedian Andy Kind and Apologist Jonathan Sherwin will be spearheading this new division of CVM. Over time resources, blogs, podcasts, talks – you know the drill – will be produced.

So, what do you think? Drop us a line if you’d like to set up a Demolition Squad training day in your area and stand by for announcements of new events and resources coming very soon.

In the mean time, leave a comment and help shape this new project.

And there I was, standing in a tight lycra kit with mascara running adjacent to the sweat drops on my face. In my right hand was an extremely heavy, miniature cannonball thing. The stadium was full, and united in song. “Team GB, Team GB”.

The official signalled that I should step forward to throw. I replied: “Mate, I’m not a shot putter. I’m also not female. And finally, do you know why I’m wearing lycra? Seriously man, if my brothers see this I’ll be excommunicated from my family. Please help.”

The official laughed my comment off and escorted me to the throwing booth. Behind me were female athletes all scoffing at my lack of muscle and unflattering outfit. Their sarcasm didn’t dampen the crowd’s optimism though. One northerner shouted encouragement from the stands: “Go on Alex luv, throw the life out of that thing. Go girl!”

Though tempted to run out of the Olympic stadium and pray nobody was filming the event, I pondered the phrase ‘When in Rome’.

Subsequently, I threw the weakest and most dreadful shot put in the history of the sport. It was like baby vomit. I’ll be honest with you, the silence of the stadium crushed me more than the costume that was barely covering my decency. Never had I been more happy to wake from a dream.

A few hours after my torrid sleep encounter, I was chatting with a friend of mine who was talking about ‘Serious vision’ for their ‘Life Calling’. I don’t know why so many people share these sorts of visions with me. I often feel like I’m the only one who doesn’t have clear revelations about the goal of my life. But as my talented and gifted friend explained their passion for faith with phrases like ‘Heart’s desire’ and ‘Soul thirst’, he looked at me and asked me what sort of dreams I have for my life. Suffice to say, they weren’t the same as his.

It got me thinking, and here’s what I think. Guys, don’t worry if you have hardly anything in common with those you’re living your life with. Fear not if you feel like a slug amidst eagles. Despite the thousands of faith-based manifestos that ooze intensity, destiny and promise, God is also the one who created normality. He created you, whether you strive to change culture forever, or merely dream of lycra and shot puts.

“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.”

- Colossians 3:23-24

Peace

As I sat with my good friend and Bible teacher Daf in a Huddersfield pub, I was once again left speechless at a specific point in the Christian story. (The Bible often flips my thought life like an egg in a wok.)

Jesus was put on trial. That’s incredible. Imagine standing in front of a corrupt group of people, who you created in your perfect image, who then rebelled against everything good you planned for them, all of whom were only breathing because you allowed them to… and they were accusing you of blasphemy.

Imagine being the only person in the history of the world to have earned any status of ‘perfection’ and instead of boast self-righteousness, you offered your body to be smashed and nailed to a cross to save the unqualified self-righteous.

Imagine having the power to flatten your barbarian, bloodthirsty murderers like a lump hammer slammed into Nutella, but then willingly having your back scourged and torn open for the good of the murderers.

The idea that all the blood running through the executioner’s veins was only flowing due to the grace shown by a God, who himself was opting for death by that exact executioner, is quite simply phenomenal.

Jesus was put on trial. That’s incredible.

Peace.

Alex

Patience is apparently a virtue, but it is one that seems to be becoming extinct, at least in my life. We live in a nanosecond microwave culture, we want things and we want them yesterday darn it! I don’t know if you are like me, but I have allowed this to seep into my spiritual life – I see the changes I desire to make but I only want the results – not the hard work.

What’s just as concerning is how I react when the immediate change I desire is slow to arrive. I throw the towel in – if I can’t change that quickly then what’s the point? I get so discouraged, and this discouragement blinds me to any progress that I may have made.

I wonder what pleases Jesus more – empty acts or a willing heart? Could it be possible that He can do more with a willing heart than someone who just acts right? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting that we coast through life with a willing heart but never actually changing, but rather that when the discouragement hits we remember that God looks at the heart, and that change is a journey not just a destination.

2 Corinthians 12: 7-10
‘To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. ” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.’

“He does have the abilities and strengths to be a great defender, but he always has an error in him. He seems prone to a mistake, at any given time.” This is my friend Dan’s ruthless summing up of the Sunderland footballer Titus Bramble.

For patches of his career to date, Titus has played some very solid football. Unfortunately for the former Newcastle and Wigan player though, he hasn’t been able to shake his occasional mistakes on the ball. And yes every player succumbs to bad decision making at some stage, but it seems that Titus has accumulated the reputation that boasts a motto of “He has an error in him”.

Until recently, I thought I had freed myself from blatant errors. Don’t get me wrong, I am becoming more aware of my growing list of shortcomings daily, but it’s been a while since I’ve demonstrated an out and out error. My behavior on the football pitch has been cleaned up, my irate outbursts on the M1 have seemingly drifted into the horizon and my patience with those I am leading appears to be growing by the week. Comments have even been made from senior leaders that my ‘Sharp edges have been knocked off’ and I’ve ‘Grounded out’.

With my extended time free of a blatant slip up, I’ve become the go-to point for younger guys looking to overcome tricky situations. People with elongated job titles have taken me out for dinner to get my opinion about things. And just two weeks ago I was complimented from the front of a packed out church. I concluded that spiritually, I’m not like Titus Bramble. Though I am flawed, I don’t have any blatant, imminent errors in me. I am the captain of my soul…until very recently.

I sat opposite a wonderful young lady who was commenting on the dress she had bought for an important occasion. Surrounded by her friends and family, I made a comment about her dress that seemed to have escaped my mouth before my brain, soul and conscience had kicked in. The comment was not only derogatory; it wasn’t even something I believed. The table took a collective breath at my horrific insult, and like a telepathic detective I read their shared thought: ‘Even if that was sarcastic, it was a truly horrible thing to say to a lovely young woman”.

I held eye contact with those around the table and finally with the tearful woman in question. I wanted to blame it on my morbid sense of humour. I longed to claim I had drunk too much and should be excused. I pined for a mispronunciation moment or a Freudian slip. But the truth is, I have no idea why I did what I did. And though the reason behind my hurtful words is lost in space, the words themselves came straight out of me. The same me that has impressed those people whose words mean something to everyone. The same me who has shared advice like a high street cash dispenser on a Friday night in Leeds. The same me who boasted of an apparent error-free purple streak.

I’ll be totally honest with you. I have an error in me; its blatant and its imminent. My internal question used to be ‘How do I share the lessons I’ve learnt to those around me?’ The question should have been ‘How do I balance out my call to leadership and my utter disgraceful core that erupts like Mt Etna from time to time.

Though I haven’t yet, I will be apologizing to the young lady before this blog is published. I will also speak with those who witnessed my careless whisper. But I guess for now I’ll meditate on the great leveler: My sin.

Forgiven I may be, error-free I am not.

The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?

- Jeremiah 17:9

P.S. If Mr Bramble is reading this, you’re a better footballer than I’ll ever be and we would welcome you at Blackburn Rovers any time.

A few weeks ago I was discussing Christianity with a friend, and discovered that his understanding of the word ‘faith’ was different to mine.

It brings back the memory of a similar conversation with a Hindu uncle who said to me: “You must have faith to be saved!” For my uncle, what was crucial was having faith – who you had faith in wasn’t the issue.

If you look up the definition of ‘faith’ on the internet, you’ll get a variety of perspectives. If you ask others what they understand by the word faith, and dig a little bit at what is behind their understanding, you may discover, as I did in my recent discussion, that they include / exclude essential components of faith which you wouldn’t. But even different faiths, as well as those who reject faith, have different understandings of faith!

Closely linked to faith is the question of how we interpret what we experience.

When I visited a Hindu group in Wembley, a gentleman said to me: “When I first came here, this person walked in who I hadn’t met, and instinctively I knew that I should follow him. I didn’t realise he was the head of the centre. I’ve been part of this group for over 20 years.”

How do we check that our interpretation of an experience is valid? Or do experiences somehow authenticate what we believe about them? Just because we experience something, does that make our interpretation true? Just because we believe something, does that make what we believe in true? Does faith authenticate truth? Or is that just faith in ‘faith’?

When I was younger I was given a present, and intuitively I believed that if I kept it with me, it would protect me and help me do well in exams. However one day it was accidentally damaged, and I realised that it couldn’t look after itself, let alone me. It was my first lesson in developing an understanding of faith, what I would call ‘a reasonable faith’.

Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

- John 20:29

A few weeks ago I was discussing Christianity with a friend, and discovered that his understanding of the word ‘faith’ was different to mine.

It brings back the memory of a similar conversation with a Hindu uncle who said to me: “You must have faith to be saved!” For my uncle, what was crucial was having faith – who you had faith in wasn’t the issue.

If you look up the definition of ‘faith’ on the internet, you’ll get a variety of perspectives. If you ask others what they understand by the word faith, and dig a little bit at what is behind their understanding, you may discover, as I did in my recent discussion, that they include / exclude essential components of faith which you wouldn’t. But even different faiths, as well as those who reject faith, have different understandings of faith!

Closely linked to faith is the question of how we interpret what we experience.

When I visited a Hindu group in Wembley, a gentleman said to me: “When I first came here, this person walked in who I hadn’t met, and instinctively I knew that I should follow him. I didn’t realise he was the head of the centre. I’ve been part of this group for over 20 years.”

How do we check that our interpretation of an experience is valid? Or do experiences somehow authenticate what we believe about them? Just because we experience something, does that make our interpretation true? Just because we believe something, does that make what we believe in true? Does faith authenticate truth? Or is that just faith in ‘faith’

When I was younger I was given a present, and intuitively I believed that if I kept it with me, it would protect me and help me do well in exams. However one day it was accidentally damaged, and I realised that it couldn’t look after itself, let alone me. It was my first lesson in developing an understanding of faith, what I would call ‘a reasonable faith’.

Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

- John 20:29

The message of Jesus is not about forgiveness, its about forgiveness and justification. (As opening lines of a blog go, that one was probably my most boring, but arguably the most important.)

I see half-complete faiths filling pews and its deeply concerning. There seems to be a cyclical pattern creeping ever closer to the Christian faith which sees a man grow frustrated with his life efforts, pray for forgiveness, accept forgiveness…amen. Hear me out, that in itself is a phenomenal example of the access we have to God since Jesus died. However, though we find forgiveness on the tree of Christ, we find something as crucial in the resurrection and the ascension.

As I’ve thought more about what it means to be justified, I now see that forgiveness merely says “You can sit back down, you’re forgiven” whilst justification says “You can stand and advance, you’re justified.” Or as Tim Keller says “Forgiveness tells us to go out, but justification allows us to come back”.

I see a lot of men in their 20s seemingly stuck in a cycle of confusion, sin and sadness. The problem is not that they don’t think they’re forgiven, but rather they don’t know they have been justified. Justification is more than Grace. It turns sin’s co-pilots into co-heirs with Christ. It means that perpetrators of wrongdoing become princes of light.

When Jesus returned to his Father and sat at the honoured right hand of God, something far more powerful than forgiveness appeared on the cosmic menu. Those who would put their trust in Jesus would be able to stand, justified by the life, death, resurrection AND ascension of Christ. His victory over the forces of this world did not just result in a vast factory of sin…confession…sin….confession. His victory meant that we would be able to say ‘I am free from sin’. Though sin always makes up the fabric of my DNA, my DNA was crucified next to Christ at the moment I called him my Lord. And through the power of his Spirit we can now operate out of Christ’s perfection, and not our own imperfection.

However, living a justified life through the perfection of Christ means that all our embarrassing excuses for repeated sin are no longer available. We can no longer say “Oh that’s just my sin issue” or “It’s the thorn in my flesh” because justification doesn’t allow us that. Justification means that we are free to say no to sin. We are free to say “I have been made perfect in Christ and therefore will turn my computer off now”.

To settle for just forgiveness is like desiring the appetiser in a Michelin star restaurant. To live in the justification of Jesus, despite being riddled with the curse of Eden, is what Paul calls the ‘Meat’ of the spiritual walk.

My hope is that Christian men in the UK would not be led astray into a hollow Gospel but rather captivated and completed by the full message.

Colossians 2:8-11

See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy,which depends on human tradition and the elemental spiritual forces of this world rather than on Christ.

For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form, and in Christ you have been brought to fullness. He is the head over every power and authority. In him you were also circumcised with a circumcision not performed by human hands. Your whole self ruled by the flesh was put off when you were circumcised by Christ.

We called him Rocky and everyone at the basketball club loved him. Everyone but me. He was older, he was cool, most importantly he was an excellent player. Even though I hated him, I wanted to be as good as him at basketball. The reason for my hate was simple – he never stopped shouting at me, pointing out my on court mistakes, telling me how to play. He didn’t do this to any of the other players – just me. One night after a practise in which Rocky had yet again verbal dismantled me, I trudged off the court. Then a strange thing happened, Rocky caught up to me and said something like this: “The reason I shout at you and get on your case is because you can be the best player here – better than me.”

I was stunned. I had no idea. Why hadn’t he told me this before! I remember this story as I look at the various young leaders than I try to help and I realise that I am often guilty of doing a Rocky. That is I hold really high standards for them, and try to help them achieve these standards by constantly suggesting what I think they should do, but I hardly ever let them know why I do this – because I think they can be better than me.

Jesus often spoke seemingly harsh words to His disciples, but the Rabbinic culture told them that when Jesus asked them to follow Him, He was doing much more than that – He was communicating that He thought they could do what He did, that He believed they could be His disciples. The world saw fisherman, tax collectors and alike, Jesus saw mirrors for His glory. Who’s lives are you speaking into? Do they know you believe in them?

Nick will be attending the CVM Gathering from June 29 to July 1. Will you be there?