I am all for precision. Believe me, it can mean the difference between pain and pleasure, hurt and healing, death and life.

Medical Precision

I had a total knee replacement recently and I wanted the doctor and his team of blue-coated, blue-masked and blue-capped scalpel-wielding assistants to go in for precision overkill. 

Robotics, computer generated models, keyhole surgery, second opinions; bring them on. I wanted nothing left to chance, guesswork or near enough is good enough. I’d watched too many episodes of Four Corners, seen too many stories of defective prostheses and heard of too many surgeons ‘struck off’ for cowboy behaviour. I wanted, and I want exactitude.

Even the drugs must be precise. When I ‘came to’ after my knee operation I was told that during the night I only had to press a button to self-administer morphine through a tube to control the pain. Sometime during the small hours a nurse gently chided me in my narcotic haze for hardly pressing the button at all. 

After that, every time I roused to roll into a different position I hit the button thinking there was a two hour interval since the previous time. I was mistaken about the time lapses and had hit the button far too frequently. By daybreak I was only breathing twice a minute. The anesthetist was called to decide whether to pump my stomach. One nurse gave me what for, but another quietly told me that a mistake was made with my weight and I was being given more narcotic than I needed from the outset.

Bring on medical precision!

Relational Precision

This different kind of precision is no less critical. We aren’t machines, lumps of meat or just molecules. We are people, male and female; and flawed with unpredictable hormones, unwanted hair-loss (and gain) and identity-shaping histories. We act and react differently in a myriad of life situations. 

We must treat each other with care and compassion. With humility and understanding. With gentleness and grace. With integrity and truthfulness. This is relational precision.

And when we fail to do this, we must seek to amend, heal, restore and reconcile. This, too, is relational precision.

I spoke to a person abruptly the other day and I quickly sought to address the matter and the manner. Even if I thought the matter was one of principle, the manner still needed remedial attention.

A little while back I told someone a lie. It was only a small thing. Call it a ‘fib’ or a ‘white lie’. It was still a lie. My motive may even have been benign, to protect rather than to harm. But it is wrong to lie and I sought and received their forgiveness.

Yes, I am all for relational precision

Theological Precision

I’ve been in my share of theological debates and battles. I’ve won. I’ve lost. We’ve called it a draw. Some have been with the enemy. Many have been with people on my own team.

Through all the blood, bruises and body blows, has it been worth it? Is it really a matter of life and death? Of heaven or hell? Pleasure or pain? 

In many of these debates the very essence of Christianity was at stake.

But many of my fights have been fought on a different front. Over the last forty or so years that I have been taking the study of God’s word seriously (theological precision) the three major battles with members of my own family (as opposed to theological liberalism, atheism and alternative world views) have been over the person and work of the Holy Spirit, the teaching ministry of women to mixed gender audiences and the definition of mission to include or exclude ‘social’ activity.

In each of these three areas I have expressed a clear and unequivocal position and have sought to fine tune my theological understanding. I have tried to distinguish between substance and semantics. I have grappled with how it should work out in my life. I have sought to discuss these issues without even straining, let alone breaking fellowship with dear brothers and sisters in Christ who have held a different position.

Am I, are you, are we, finely tuned or highly strung?

When some in this wonderful diocese of ours recently had a little sibling squabble over whether ‘Jesus Brings . . . . ’ was a theological capitulation to consumer Christianity are we acting like we are finely tuned or highly strung?

There are some important ‘Jesus Brings’ invitation events across our diocese this month. Your friends, if you invite them and they come, will hear some of the most theological precise and engaging speakers our diocese has produced; finely tuned and not high strung!

I was involved in a raft of evangelistic events recently. They had nothing to do with the ‘Jesus Brings’ initiative and yet they had everything to do with what Jesus brings. I invited several friends to different events. I had knock backs. I had no shows. And yet, wonderfully, two friends came along to two separate events.

Don’t miss the opportunity. Invite. Pray. Live with the reality of disappointment. Anticipate the joy of sinners hearing about the Saviour. For with ‘Jesus Brings’ our friends are in finely tuned hands.

I make no apology for seeking to be as finely tuned as I can be. But forgive me when I have been too highly strung.

Feature photo: Kevin Dooley