Irn Bru and positivity - all you need?

There’s been a word doing the rounds up here in Scotland recently. I wonder if you have noticed it - or even caught it (wherever you live)! Optimism. That was the strapline to the well crafted adverts for the drink Irn-Bru that were plastered up and down the country in the run up to the men’s football European Championships.

As a nation we embraced the message. Let’s toast to the future being brighter than the past and believe that this time round things might turn out differently. Did they? Well, as we watched Scotland fail to qualify from the group stages of the tournament, it didn’t take long for my can of Irn Bru to taste of tartan tears and for optimism to turn to realism.

One word that you won’t find in Scripture…

Positivity is very much admired in our culture. We admire glass-half-full people - the 'always look on the bright side of life' kind of people who have the ability to keep up their game face. And yet we all know that feeling of having our hopes deflate like a punctured helium balloon.

At the end of the day your hope is only as valid as the strength of the thing it’s founded on. With that in mind, I’m always grateful that the Lord doesn’t tell His people to be optimistic. He offers us something so much better, deeper and solid than that.

Two words that you will find in Scripture…

When it comes to the grounding of our hope in life and death, the Lord, in His Word, consistently and refreshingly draws our gaze away from ourselves and onto Christ. He is our wonderful surety. As the writer to the Hebrews puts it, the crucified and ascended Jesus is the 'sure and steadfast anchor' for our souls (Hebrews 6:19).

I’ve always enjoyed reading the letter to the Hebrews. As well as being a wonderful treatise in theology I’ve increasingly come to appreciate it as an insightful manual for how to do pastoral ministry.

Having spent the opening chapters of the letter focusing the readers attention on who Jesus is, it’s almost as if the focus moves to considering where Jesus is. Where is this sure and steadfast anchor for the soul? The answer really matters: 'behind the curtain'.

Both the word 'behind' and the word 'curtain' are hugely significant. The reference there is to the curtain in the temple that prevented access to the Holy of Holies where only the High Priest could go into but once a year. The great physician, the great lover of our souls, has gone in and He’s making intercession for us in the very presence of God. Talk about having friends in high places!

As a young boy I attended my local Boys Brigade. I have two fond memories of those early years that have stayed with me. Number one was the Saturday morning football: I can still taste the warmed up half-time Ribena now! The second was the anthem that we sang most weeks. It didn’t mean an awful lot to me at the time but the chorus stuck:

‘We have an anchor that keeps the soul
Steadfast and sure while the billows roll,
Fastened to the Rock which cannot move,
Grounded firm and deep in the Saviour’s love.’[1]

It strikes me that so often our optimism is based largely upon our gut feelings. Not only do we know how changeable they are but in all honesty, the majority of time in life, we have little to be optimistic about. Let us turn the eyes of our hearts to a strong and willing Christ. He is the sure and steadfast anchor of our souls.

Irn Bru anyone?

[1] We Have an Anchor, hymn written by Priscilla J. Owens.