
Alison
Morgan
Ever since the creation of the world, his eternal power and divine
nature, invisible though they are, have been understood and seen through the
things he has made. Romans 1.20
Spring is in the air. We
wake to a world which is being renewed, made new every morning, recreated by
the Spirit which once hovered over the waters, filled with the breath of life
as were the plants and creatures in the first garden at the beginning of time. Every day the world wakes up to find itself
remade: dew lies beaded on the grass, chaffinches sing their descending scales
in the hedgerows, daisies unfurl their petals, swifts begin to scream through
the skies in search of the first flight of insects. Life is in the air, there
to be breathed in, absorbed, and wondered at. Soon it will be summer, and a new
generation of creatures will fill the earth and skies. Eagles will soar in the
highlands, and song thrushes will fledge from the amber traffic light nests of
the suburbs. Fox cubs will scavenge in dustbins, and mayflies rise up in clouds
over stream and lake. And everywhere, the newness of life will intrude on the
inevitable reality of a world in decay, a world that is groaning, a world that
is waiting.
The pages of the Bible are green with metaphors and similes
from nature – literally green in my case, because I colour them in wherever I
find them. And Jesus himself often taught about life in the Spirit by drawing
on the life of the created world in illustration and parable. When he did so it
was always more than a picture, always
more than the simple use of the familiar and concrete to explain the abstract
reality of the way things are - for as CH Dodd once remarked, it arises from a conviction that there is no
mere analogy, but an inward affinity, between the natural order and the spiritual
order.1
The natural world, then, is a reflection of
spiritual reality. This should not surprise us. The Word that spoke life in the
beginning is the same Word who speaks life now. The Spirit who hovered over the
waters when the world was born is the same Spirit who brings new birth to our
spirits today. Life physical and life spiritual are rooted in the same God, the
God who himself is life. And so it is that in the visible renewal of the world
around us, we find the key to the spiritual renewal which is to take place
within us.
What is essential is a sense of need, a deep humility, and a
radical openness to meet and receive from the living God. This is where all
renewal must begin and end. William Abraham2
What then is our part?
For it seems when we look back at times in human history which have been
characterised by renewal, by a fresh outpouring of the Holy Spirit into
people’s hearts and minds, that we do have a part to play. If reform is a human
initiative, and revival a divine one, it seems that renewal lies somewhere in
between, as an event which depends upon God but which comes when we are most
receptive, most ready to acknowledge our
need, and most willing to open ourselves to his Spirit. We are made new when we
open our hearts to God – like the baby bird thrusting upwards for food, like
petals opening themselves to the life-bearing intervention of the summer bee.
Sometimes renewal has meant many people receiving the same thing – the rush of
wind and fire which overwhelmed the first disciples at Pentecost, the fresh
anointing with the gifts of the Spirit which has overtaken so many people in
our own lifetimes. At other times it has been very personal, and yet to a
pattern which is as recognisable as the pattern of the seasons – Mother Julian
who learnt that love was the Lord’s meaning, John Wesley who felt his heart
‘strangely warmed’ and went on to become one of the greatest channels of
spiritual renewal the world has ever known. For both, as for many in our own
times, this moment of renewal came after many years of ministry; for often we
do not recognise our need, and often we do not persist in the prayers of
repentance and faith or of intercession which have been the gateways for the
Holy Spirit throughout human history.
The marks of personal renewalWhat does renewal look like in practice? Often
we have a way of shrinking words and concepts, of using them so frequently that
they lose the breadth of associations they had when first adopted, and become
identified with only a part of what they first meant – like a jersey which has
gone too many times through the washing machine. The word ‘renewal’ is often
used to describe the sudden rediscovery of the gifts of the Spirit, and in particular
the gift of tongues, for that is the way it came to a whole generation of
people in our time. But ‘renewal’ just means ‘being made new’, and being made
new will depend on the ways in which we have become worn. For some it will mean
a healing of the barriers which separate us from God, barriers of accusation or
rejection. For some it will mean knowing God’s forgiveness or God’s love in a
new way. For some it will mean a new dimension in ministry. For all it means a
continuous process of being filled daily with the Spirit, of allowing his power
to flow through our prayers and his fruits to develop in our lives, of growing
in the knowledge that we are loved and in our capacity to love others.3
I have found it fascinating to do a scriptural
study on the words ‘new’ and ‘renew’. Scripture teaches that renewal is
something which God offers repeatedly and daily to his people, in different
ways at different times, and that it is something we ourselves are to build
into the pattern of our own response to him, through new offerings, new songs,
new resolves. It teaches that renewal
has many dimensions; and that authentic renewal is often not so much the
invention of the new as the rediscovery of the old, of truths once grasped but
now forgotten, of vigour once possessed but now lost. Above all it teaches that
renewal is normal – as normal as the
daily and yearly renewal of the earth itself, and marking the million stages of
our growth into the likeness of Christ.4
How then do we ensure that we are open to everything
the Lord wants to give us? Partly through the normal means of coming to him
daily to confess our failures, state our needs, share our dreams. Partly
through absorption of the word of life that is our inheritance in the Bible and
which itself contains the power to create and recreate. And partly through not
settling for less. I have friends who, having lost the teaspoons from the
cutlery set they had received some years before as a wedding gift, decided to
order some replacements of the same kind. The replacements came; but instead of
making new their set, the teaspoons revealed that what had seemed as smart and
shiny as always was suddenly shown to be old, dulled and imperceptibly
tarnished. It’s easy to lose your shine without even realising it.

And
so let’s not be afraid to recognise what it is that we need, to ask for what we
want, and to pray for one another that we will receive it. My experience of
such prayers is that they are always answered – though often not as soon as we
would like, and usually not in the way we had anticipated.
It has been said that we cannot control the direction of the wind, but we can set our sails
to catch it when it comes our way.5 And that’s as good a
response to the Holy Spirit as I know.
1 CH
Dodd, The Parables of the Kingdom, London 1935, p.21
2 William
J Abraham, The Logic of Renewal, Eerdmans
2003, p.20
3 Ephesians
5.18, Ephesians 3.14-19.
4
2 Cor 3.17-18.
5 Quoted
by David Pytches, Living at the Edge, p.127.
This article first appeared in ReSource
magazine, July 2005. See www.resource-arm.net.