Heaven

That’s what it’s all about isn’t it? Heaven. That’s where we all want to go when we die, right? That’s why we believe isn’t it? Oh, that and the desperate desire not to end up in the other place - .you know…hell. After all isn’t that what we believe? You either end up in heaven or hell. What a horrifying thought. You either believe in the right things about the right person and go to heaven when you die, or…let’s not think abut that. And, probably, most of us don’t. Not really. Because if we really believed that, we might actually have to change how we live. We could have a long discussion about that and maybe one day, we should. But not now. Not in that way at least. Let’s get back to heaven. Jesus doesn’t talk about heaven as being about a place you go when you die. Nether does the rest of the Bible. Jesus, in the Sermon on the Mount, teaches us to pray “your kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven.” (Mat. 6:10). When Paul writes to the Thessalonians he writes that we will meet the LORD in the air (1 Thess. 5:17). Far from meaning we go somewhere “up there” this is a metaphor that would have been familiar to the Thessalonians. It was about someone important coming to your town - a King, who ruled the town already but came to visit. The people would go out to meet them, outside the town and then welcome them into the town. Their rule already existed, but now they were fully present! Jesus talks about God’s rule already being here (he called it the Kingdom of God or the Kingdom of heaven) but that we should live in the light of the truth that one day God will come to earth and be here, fully. That’s when his Kingdom will be fully present. But both Jesus and Paul encouraged us to live in the light of that truth: it matters how we live now. We live the values of the Kingdom that is already here but will one day fully come. What has no place here when God comes fully in his kingdom, should have no place now because that Kingdom is already here. What am I saying? Heaven will be here: it will be a new heaven and new earth (Rev. 21:1). So we are already living, partly in heaven. And so we live the values of the Kingdom of God now. You don’t me me to tell you God’s Kingdom is not yet full here. What is happening in the Ukraine is sadly, just one terrible example of that truth. But, if we believe Jesus and Paul, then what we do now, how we respond to what is happening now, is crucial. We live the values of the Kingdom of God. We respond in love. We give, we donate, we pray, we do whatever we can to bring the light of God’s love into this dark world. Not because we are trying to do the right thing to get, ultimately, into heaven, but because the Kingdom of heaven is already here and will one day full come.

Us and them

In 1973 Pink Floyd released the Album “Dark Side of the Moon.” On it is a song with the title “Us and Them.” It’s about war. It’s about people being divided and seeing themselves as “us” and others as “them.” It wasn’t a new concept. Sadly it’s happened all the way through human history. It’s why wars happen. It’s happening now. Us and them. It’s tragic. Russians and Ukranians. Depending on whose side you are determines who is “us” and who is “them.” Perhaps, if we put the blame in one place or another, we perpetuate “us” and “them”. We do it all the time don’t we? We’re always making the “us” and “them” judgement. We do it when we support one team and not another, when we like some people but not others, when we know our theology is right and someone else’s theology is wrong. Not all these things will lead us to war, although history tells us it has often been theology that has done exactly that. Maybe, today, the issue is sexuality:” us” and “them”. Jesus had strong words to say to the Pharisees who, it seems, were very much into us and them: they knew who was saved and who wasn’t. Jesus told them God saw it differently. At a picnic on a hill (Matthew 14:13-21) Jesus took bread and broke it and gave it to the massive crowd that had gathered. When he broke bread he was telling them they were welcome in his Kingdom, something very different to what the Pharisees said. Paul, writing to the church in Galatia, who were struggling with just how Jewish you had to be to be a Christian, said that in Christ “there is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ.” (Gal. 3:28) God, it seems isn’t into “us” and “them”. It seems to me we spot it when it happens somewhere else, but perhaps we are not so good at spotting it when we do it ourselves. Perhaps we are too quick to judge. I know I am. And watching the terror of the invasion of the Ukraine has made me think about just where “us” and “them” thinking gets us. All of us. Any if us. Me included. And I’ve realised just how easily I can find myself thinking of “us” and “them”. I’m going to try to do better, because that brings me closer to God’s bigger and better story.

Power

I can’t claim to know what is going through the mind of Vladimir Putin. But if I were to make a guess, it would be something, perhaps, to do with power. It appears he is hoping to restore Russia to something like the former USSR. He, Russia, has lost it’s power over those now independent nations. There may be many more things at work too. But power is one of them. Today, freedom of speech in Russia, such as it was in reality, has been curbed with media outlets being shut down. It’s one way to hold the power. If you control what people know, you have power over them. One reason why it was such a fight to translate the Bible into English in the 16th century was about power: if you can’t read the Bible, you have to believe it says what others tell you it says. And they might tell you what they want you to hear. People in power often want to protect it. Power, that is. And they’d do anything to protect it. Which maybe what is at play in the current situation in Ukraine. Or at least some of it. When Jesus is brought before Pilate, Pilate thinks he has the power. He is in charge. He can decide what happens to Jesus. He can release him or put him to death. Jesus tells Pilate that he is the king of a different kingdom and that Pilate has no real power, only that given to him. Pilate has no idea of the truth. And from a human perspective it looks like he does have the power. But something bigger and better is at work in Jesus sentence of death: it will be what ultimately brings life. It is harrowing to see what is playing out in Ukraine. Many feel, and are, powerless. I want to see it end. As do you. I want power given to those who won’t abuse it for their own ends. As do you. I find myself feeling powerless. What I can do is to turn to the one who is endlessly good, uncontrollably generous and irrationally loving and trust that even in this mess, he will be at work for good. And do what Jesus did: to trust in the one who really has the power.

Storms

We had three storms last week. Never had that before. Not in my memory anyway. We took all possible precautions to stay safe. We had friends visiting from Bristol on Friday. They didn’t come. It would have been silly and dangerous. We postponed our visit to the vet with the cats because we had been told to stay at home. To be honest that suited us because trying to get our cats into their carriers to get them to the vet is not fun. In fact it’s almost impossible. So the storm worked in our favour! But damage was done. The storms wreaked their havoc. Tragically some people lost their lives. Property was damaged. Homes were flooded. Transport links were disrupted. We are very aware of the power of a storm. And we had three in a week. We can’t control the weather even if we might be to mitigate to some extent, its effects. And we know that life has other kinds of storms. Our journey through the last couple of years has shown us that if we didn’t know it already. Life is unpredictable and uncertain. Things happen that are simply beyond our control. We get blown about, bashed about, turned upside down and inside out. We get knocked down and kicked about. o be in a storm can be a frightening and disorienting place to be. And, even if we see a storm coming, it’s sometimes hard to be ready when it hits. I think that’s how I feel right now: there might be a storm coming and I’m not sure how ready I am. One day the disciples got in a boat because Jesus told them to. He went to sleep because he was tired. A storm began as they were crossing the lake. It was a bad storm, so bad that the disciples, hardened fishermen though they were, were terrified and thought they wold drown. Jesus slept. They woke him up staggered that he appeared not to care at all for their welfare or their lives. He, Jesus, told the storm to stop. It did. He asked the disciples why they were so worried. What they had failed to grasp was that the storm was simply no threat to Jesus. That’s why he was able to sleep while the storm raged. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, he cared deeply. It was that the storm was no threat to him. And Jesus was in the boat with them. Perhaps the question for us becomes: when the storm comes, who would we most want in the boat with us?

Valieva

It’s seems unfair even to be writing about this. I don’t know Kamila Valieva. I barely know anything about her. All I know in fact is that she’s a Russian skater who, by all accounts is very good at skating. And yet, apparently, I know lots about her. Certainly enough to have an opinion about whether she should be allowed to compete in the individual event she’s currently leading at the Olympics. But I’m not alone I don’t think. We all have an opinion. We all know what we think and whether she should be competing and whether the team of Russian skaters should be awarded medals for winning the team event, don’t we? On the face of it, I find the decision by the Court of Arbitration for Sport somewhat bizarre. As I understand it Valieva has been allowed to compete even though she failed a drug test because of her age. She’s 15. And apparently her future will be damaged if she’s banned now. I’m not sure how that arguments stacks up. It seems, well, ridiculous. The whole point of testing for drugs is so that people don’t do it. So people don’t cheat. But on this basis it’s ok if you’re young. Isn’t this an invitation to all those young athletes out there to cheat: “go ahead and cheat. You’re young it’ll be ok. We wouldn’t want to damage your future.” Nonsense! There’s so much we don’t know concerning Valieva and what really happened. And, she could well be an innocent young woman in a system over which she simply has no control. It’ll never happen, because if you’ve ever seen me skate you’ll know I’m not very good, but if I was another competitor, I think I would be struggling to compete in the same event as someone who has failed a drugs test and is still there in the competition. What the long term implications of all this will be is anyone’s guess. And I feel for Valieva. She obviously brilliant. And yet we’re all talking about her (at least I am) for all the wrong reasons. But it’s got me thinking: we are constantly making judgements about others. And mostly, if ever, we don’t know the whole truth about them. God told Adam and Eve not to eat the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. That’s because it’s about judging and it’s God place to judge, not ours. And eating the fruit of that tree got us into a whole lot of trouble. And it still does. Judging one another that is. It is true that we constantly have to make judgements. Living well would not be possible otherwise. But it may also be true that we are far too quick to judge the actions of others. If you knew everything about me, I’m sure you would be quite disappointed. The good news for me is that God is the only one who knows my whole story, the whole truth about me. And he loves me still. He does. Watching the whole saga surrounding this young Russian skater has made me reflect on how I judge others. And it’s made me realise I’m glad God is the one who will ultimtately be my judge.

Struggling?

Yes. I am. I have been for the last week or so. And the few weeks before that too if I’m honest. Actually, mostly I’m struggling in one way or another. Most recently it’s because I got COVID again. I’m even embarrassed to say that. I sit here today writing this blog having tested negative this morning, so I’m out tomorrow! But just having to say I got COVID again sits uneasily with me. For one thing, I hate being ill. Although this time round I wasn’t ill. I got a croaky voice and that’s it. In pre-COVID times I would have carried on as normal and probably even have gone to the gym. But I had to declare I had COVID. For reasons that elude me., having to say I’m ill means I’ve failed somehow. No really, that’s how it is with me. I’m rarely ill, so to get COVOD again is…not good. And very quickly it becomes: what have done to get it again? What have I done wrong? And then not far down the thought process it becomes: why does God not stop this? What I have done that God wouldn’t stop this? And then we get to: God must hate me! If I listen to myself preach or speak, I know I don’t believe that. I will preach only that of which I am convinced and I say regularly that there is nothing I can do to make God love me any more, or any les. And yet, when I get COVID again I find myself wondering why God hates me. What doesn’t help me is that I am very aware that some people, lots of people, probably most people, suffer way more than I do. I know I have little to complain about. But, truth is, I’m struggling. And when I’m struggling my mind begins to go places that are not helpful. And often places that contain no truth. What is true is that in my struggling God doesn’t hate me. He never has and he never will. God doesn’t hate anyone. Ever. He doesn’t love me any less when my thoughts go down roads that are not helpful for me. He doesn’t see me any differently because I am angry and frustrated at catching COVID…again. If you look at the psalms, you will notice that the people of God oscillate between praise and despair, between declaring how good God is and declaring that he has left them and abandoned them. Looking back now, we would tell them that it doesn’t affect how God sees them: he still loves them more than they know! So when I so the same kind of thing, I’m doing what the people of God had often done: struggled to find their way through life and sometimes ranted at God because of it. Thing is, if it is true that God still loved them the way he’s always loved them, then maybe it’s true for me too. And you. I would preach that confidently because actually, that is something of which I am convinced. But, yes, I still struggle. That part of me is real. Very real. So is the part that wants to praise God. God sees all that make up me. And he loves me, welcomes me and wants me to come to him just as I am. So that’s what I’m doing today. Coming to you, and to him, just as I am.

Where is God?

It’s a question we often ask I expect: where is God? Often it’s hard to know. And it’s often equally as hard to now what he’s doing. Or at least it is for me! If I’m honest, I find it hard to answer these questions. We like to think we know. We like to tell others what God is doing. We like to confidently assert how God is active, although more usually in someone else’s life rather than out own. We like to do it when we gather together for worship. And, sometimes, maybe we do know what God is doing and where he is doing it. I’m wondering if I’ve seen it in the last couple of weeks myself. We’ve just bought a house! We had one a long time ago but sold it when we were convinced that was what God was leading us to do. We gave the money away, to the church! Now we have to think about where we will live when ministry in the church comes to an end. Which it will, one day. So…we’ve bought a house. It’s only possible because mum died. And mum only had a house because dad died. Funny how God works. And here we are, buying a house, a house that we can’t actually afford to live in. We’ll have to wait and hope in order to live in our house. And I’m wondering if we’ve done the right thing: we’ve taken on a big debt and everything has to go to plan in order for it to work - tenants, interest rates, pensions…But here’s the thing: it may be true that God is at work. And here’s why I say that. We weren’t read to buy a house. We only went looking because my mother-in-law was with us over Christmas and she likes looking at houses. So we booked a few viewings and looked at some houses. We were the first to view one house. We really liked it but didn’t think we had a realistic chance of buying it. But, reckoning we had nothing to lose by putting in an offer, we put in an offer (even though we didn’t know if we could get a mortgage at this stage). We pointed out that we had no chain and could wait because we didn’t actually need to move in! To our great surprise, our offer was accepted. All we needed then was the mortgage! We got that in less than two weeks. So, all of a sudden we bought a house! It also turns out that the family selling the house are moving in with his parents and buying a house together, so there are in fact two houses to sell. But that house sold to first time buyers and the house they are all moving into is vacant possession - which means there is no chain in the whole process! It’s not supposed to be that easy is it? And for us, because of my age, time could have been critical in being offered a mortgage. And it’s left me wondering what God has been doing. Within two weeks of looking at the house, when we weren’t really looking seriously because we hadn’t really thought about the whole thing, or expecting much to happen, we’ve bought a house. I’ve come to the conclusion that God has been kind to us and has been at work in ways that we weren’t aware of. This house is going to cost us everything we’ve got. But perhaps God has been at work. And at this time, in this process, maybe we really have been able to see where God is and what he’s doing. I think so.

2022

Is is to late to wish you a Happy New Year? Sorry if it is. Actually, I have hesitated to wish people a Happy New Year this year. Maybe it’s because the experience of the last two years as been, well, anything but happy. In our family three parents have died in the last two years. Been a bit challenging. And other things have happened too, like getting ill from COVID! We’ve had our good moments too. We had a lovely, if different wedding. We’ve been on a fabulous holiday to Scotland. It’s not been all bad by any means. And I know others have suffered far more than me or my family. But to wish you a Happy New Year seems, well, perhaps slightly inappropriate in some way. We’re all hoping for a better year in 2022 that’s for sure. Just last evening in my Life Group we talked about our hopes for 2022. We sort of agreed we’d like it to be on a bit more of an even keel, less starting and stopping, waiting and guessing. But here’s the thing that struck me: life has always been like this hasn’t it? Maybe not in the details of our experiences of the last two years, but it’s always been unpredictable in some sense. And we stand with those who have gone before us who have found the very same thing. We go from things being great to things being tragic, from things going as we would like to things going wrong, from life following our plan to life being completely off the plan. If you read the Psalms you will see this is how the people of Israel found life to be too. Take Psalms 136 and 137. Psalm 136 remembers God’s great acts in creation and among his people. It is a song of praise. It rejoices in God. But it’s followed by Psalm 137 which begins: “By the rivers of Babylon we sat down and wept,” and asks how God’s people can sing songs in a foreign land? Quite a contrast don’t you think. The point about the Psalms is that they reflect the way life really is: moments of joy and moments of pain; moments of praise and moments of huge questions. What is really important, and certainly some of what the Psalms teach us, is that the experience of real life is held in the bigger story of God. Which is still deeply and profoundly true for us. It’s one reason why we would do well to engage with the Psalms (and why we will be). The truth behind the Psalms, the bigger story of God, reminds us that we are held, in everything, in God’s magnificent love. We don’t know wat 2022 will bring. But we do know that God is with us and will be with us whatever happens. So, in the light of that, perhaps I can wish you a Happy New Year, one in which God is and will be present. And one in which, perhaps we might experience his love and his presence as we navigate our way through it singing our songs to him.

Busy

So I didn’t write a blog until today because I have been busy. No really I have. Carol services, extra time at the hospital because people are unwell, planning for the next services, putting the church back to rights after various activities. It all adds up and time disappears. Last night it dawned on me that although I’ve bought some gifts to give, I haven’t left myself any time t wrap them. Especially now I’m doing extra shifts at the hospital to cover for those who can’t make it in. It’s all good stuff, all important things to do, but they all take time. And then I remembered I hadn’t written a blog this week. So now I’m squeezing this into the small window between being out this morning and doing a visit this afternoon. Still have no idea when I might wrap presents! If I’m not careful I’ll miss Christmas. And I’ll miss it because I’m busy! Which it sees to me is what some people do. They miss Christmas because they are busy. They are busy thinking of all the things they have to do, and then doing them, that they have no time for the thing itself. I have a feeling that that’s what happened on the night of the first Christmas too. The Jews were waiting for the Messiah. They knew he was coming. They desperately wanted him to come. But they were so busy thinking about it, they missed it when it happened. It didn’t help they had the wrong idea about what the Messiah would look like and what he’d do, but they missed him anyway. It didn’t help that when they saw him they decided he didn’t fit their expectations, but they still missed him. Even when he was there right in front of them, they missed it. And I maybe guilty of the very same thing. I get busy. I have thoughts about how Christmas will look and the things I need to do. And if I’m not careful, I miss it. It is a sobering thought that even though he’s right here in front of me, I can still miss him. Even though he’s in all the carols I sing, all the readings I hear, all the talks I prepare…I can still miss him because I’m too busy. God wasn’t too busy to make the first Christmas a reality. And God isn’t too busy to come to me now. He isn’t too busy to draw close and be in all the carols, the readings and the talks. He isn’t too busy to welcome me when I come to him. Maybe that’s the good news of Christmas this year: in the business, God isn’t too busy to come to me again and welcome me into his great and magnificent love. And I don’t want to miss that. Not for anything.

Change

I don’t like change. I’m a plodder as I’ve said. Change is hard for me. I didn’t like it when I had to be in a new class at school. I didn’t like it when the plans of the day changed. I’m a creature of habit. Being the leader is hard because things change all the time. People come and people go. Volunteers come and volunteers go. Things change. people change jobs. People change churches. Commitments change. Families change. I’ve just been through a process of change and the truth be told, I’ve had some sleepless nights waking to wonder if making a change is a good thing or not. And it’s not been easy because it’s been so public. After all, not many people have to ask a congregation for permission to make a change and endure a vote on it! We’ve been living in a time of unprecedented change. The last couple of years has been change upon change upon change. One set of new rules followed by another by another. And just when things seemed to be returning to normal, we’re now plunged once again into a change of the rules. We’ve had to organise alternative plans for the Carol Services in case things change again! This afternoon I was going to meet with my supervision group face to face for the first time in nearly two years, but now we’re doing it over Zoom…again! And the worst bit is I won’t get any Stollen Bread, which I love. Yesterday I was going to meet up with the Luke’s boys in London. It’s 35 years since we graduated from St. Luke’s, Exeter University so it would have been great to catch up with them. But I didn’t go because things have changed and I didn’t want to take the risk with the busy Christmas week coming up. I don’t like change. I don’t do it well. But change happens. And change can be good. Sometimes we need change. Sometimes I need change. But somethings don’t change. And that’s good too. Really good in fact: “I the Lord, do not change.” (Malachi 3:6). That’s really good news. In all that changes, God changes not. God is still God, whatever happens. God is still God, whatever changes. God is still as loving, still as compassionate, God is still as close and still as interested in me as he’s ever been. And that is good news. really good news. And the next part of the verse is equally good. “…therefore, you, O children of Jacob are not consumed.” (ESV) We are not consumed because God doesn’t change! The truth of the God who doesn’t change is that he holds me in all that changes around me. Whatever happens, whatever changes, good or bad, God has me. And his love for me is as strong and as close as it’s ever been. And it will not change. And I thank God for that. Just one last thing. I usually write these blogs on Tuesday. But today is Thursday. Which is a change about which I am cross with myself but because I got busy on Tuesday and forgot. But God doesn’t change and he still loves me!

Silence

Mostly I hate silence. Mostly for me silence is a negative thing. When you prepare a talk, give and talk and then all you get is silence…it‘s difficult. My maybe faulty assumption is that people would say if they like it, so if they don’t say anything it means they didn’t. Sending out emails only to be met with the silence of no responses is…difficult. I find silence difficult. Perhaps it has something to do with my childhood experiences, although I’m not sure I’d be able to tell you why. Oddly though I’ve learnt to sit with silence. The first time I ever took myself off on retreat, the silence was deafening! I arrived, only to realise it was me and my books…for the next five days! Sounds idyllic to some of you I’m sure. But at the time I wasn’t ready for the silence. Over time I’ve learnt how to manage my way through times of silence and value them. I don’t always find it easy. But I’ve found silence gives me space and space is something that can be creative. At least for me. Some of the time! To write a talk, I need space. I need silence. I need to wrestle. I need to formulate what’s in my mind. God it seems is often silent. I suspect one of the mistakes we make is to read the Bible and think everything happens immediately. That one story follows on from another. That there is no silence. Turns out there’s about four hundred years between the end of the Old testament and the beginning of the New Testament. Four hundred years. Four hundred years when apparently God is silent. If we’d been alive then, we’d have lived in the time of God’s silence. I wonder how we’d have got on? After four hundred years of silence, God speaks. He speaks to Joseph through an angel to tell him that the child in Mary is God’s son and that he is to take Mary as his wife (Matthew ch. 1). Joseph says nothing according to Matthew’s account. Nothing. Joseph is silent. In fact, according to the gospels Joseph never says anything, ever. Certainly nothing that makes it into the Bible. I do struggle with God’s silence. Why doesn’t he speak? Why doesn’t he make things more clear to me? Why doesn’t he answer my questions? And then I wonder: if God did speak to me what would I do? I suspect I’d have a whole load of questions and challenges. I’m not sure I’d be like Joseph, who heard God speak through an angel, said nothing, but did exactly what God said: he took Mary home to be his wife. And here’s the thing: God does speak. He does speak to me. He speaks through his story, the story of Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus. He speaks through his word, through songs, through his people, through his magnificent creation. He speaks. The silence is deafening! Perhaps I would do well to be more like Joseph: to be the one who is silent and follow God in everything he says. And maybe you would too.

Black Friday

So…did you? Did you do what lots of people seem to do now? Did you manage to bag a bargain on Black Friday? Did you get a great deal? I don’t know about you, but I got multiple emails every day last week reminding me Black Friday was coming. I was bombarded with reminders of the fantastic deals I could get. I was told every day how much time was left until the savings began. And then, on Friday…more emails announcing the day had arrived. Maybe you can get good deals on Black Friday. Maybe you can. Maybe you did. Apparently you have to be careful that your deal is really a deal. I was listening to one analyst talking on the radio saying that some of the deals are not as good as they are made out to be. Apparently, you can better deals at other times of the year according to this analyst. Maybe you got a deal. Maybe you didn’t. Jim Elliot knew he had a great deal. In 1956, when he was 29 years old, Jim Elliot went as a missionary to the Acua people (now called the Waondani people) in Ecuador. There had been years of planning, but Jim and a few others wanted to tell them the truth about Jesus. The Acua had killed all other foreigners who had attempted to make contact with them, but it appeared that Jim and the other missionaries were now getting a response. One morning when two Acua women appeared across the river, it seemed something was about to happen. Jim and his colleague Pete jumped into the river to meet the women, but then heard a terrifying cry behind them. They turned to see Acua warriors with their spears ready to attack them. Five missionaries died that day, killed by Acua spears. Jim Elliot had written in his diary: “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.” He based that on the truth of another Black Friday. We call it Good Friday, although at the time it felt black to everyone who had followed Jesus. This Black Friday wasn’t followed by emails about more deals. There was only one deal: he is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose. Good Friday is followed instead by Easter Day and the truth of God, that his death brings us life. That’s a great deal. The best in fact. And to give your life to Jesus Christ, is to give what you cannot keep to gain what you cannot lose. The truth is you cannot keep your life. One day you will die. The offer of the cross is that you can give to God what cannot keep and gain what you cannot lose: the promise of his everlasting love and life with him now, and for eternity. Looking for good deals is one thing. But missing the greatest deal of all is another entirely. Perhaps Black Friday can remind us of the greatest deal. After Jim Elliot was killed, his wife and others went back to the Acua people, and in time many of them became followers of Christ. They proved Jim to be right: he is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose. And it’s still true. The deal is still on the table.

Unknown

One of my favourite “Christian” jokes is the one about he man who wanted God to save him from the flood. Sitting up a tree with the flood water raging beneath, he prayed and asked God to save him. As he sat in the tree, some people drifted by sitting on a piece of wood. “Jump on,” they shouted. “You can come with is to safety.” “No,” he replied. “God is going to save me!” And he stayed in the tree. Some time later rescuers in a boat found him. “Get in the boat and we’ll take you safety,” they shouted. “No thanks,” he shouted back. “God is going to rescue me!” And he stayed in the tree. A little later a helicopter hovered over him and winched down a rope. “Grab the rope and we’ll fly you to safety. ”No,” he waved back. “God is going to save me!” He drowned. And when he saw God he asked, “Hey God, why didn’t you save me?” God answered, “I tried. I sent a piece of wood, a boat and a helicopter, but you refused to get out of the tree.” Sometimes perhaps we don’t know what help we really need. Last week one of the chaplains responded to a call to visit a patient. Expecting to be confronted with a patient who wanted some kind of spiritual help, he was met with a question: “Does this line come from Shakespeare’s Macbeth?” That’s right, this patient asked to see a chaplain so they could ask if the line from a poem they had was from Shakespeare’s play Macbeth! Well, this patient was lucky because my colleague looked it up on his mobile phone. Perhaps this patient had the rest of life completely sorted and talking about the end of their life really wasn’t important…but perhaps too it reflects that we sometimes don’t know what help we really need. When I was training as a counsellor we learnt about the Johari Window. The Johari Window reflects the truth that there are four states of self awareness. There are things that I don’t know about me and neither do you. There are some things you know about me that I don’t. There are things I know about me that you don’t. And then there are things about me that both you and I know. The point is that there are things about me that I don’t know. And there are things about you that you don’t know. And there are things about us that none of us know. The part that you know about me but I don’t, is called my blind spot: I can’t see it. The part that neither of us know is called the unknown. The truth that I wrestle with is that there things about me that I don’t know and I am not aware of. There really are. Which is a little scary. The good news is that God knows me fully, even to the point of knowing the number of hairs on my head (Luke 12:7). And he loves me because he loves me because he loves me…Perhaps I would do well to admit there are things about me I don’t know, and trust myself to the one who holds me in his great and magnificent love. And perhaps you would do well to do the same.

Success

What is success I wonder? Everyone seems to be asking about it following the end of COP26. Was it successful? Well…was it? I’m not sure I can answer that question. I’m not sure I’m qualified. I’m not sure I know enough about either climate change itself, or what the outcome of the conference actually was. There are some of course, who see COP26 as a resounding success. Maybe that’s because they got what they wanted. Or maybe because others didn’t get what they wanted. And there are others of course, who think COP26 was not a success because it didn’t go far enough. They didn’t get what they wanted while others perhaps, did. The “was it a success” question is beautifully illustrated by the last minute changes to the final statement that came out and how it has been reported: the Glasgow pact was “watered down” and changed from stating that the use of coal would be “phased out” to stating it would be “phased down”. Whether this was a success depends on your perspective. And by who measures it. We talk about “being a success” in whatever you do. But who decides? Who decides whether or not you have been a success at whatever you do? And on what basis do they decide? My best guess is we all want to be a success at whatever we do don’t we? None of us would set out to be a failure I don’t think! What is a successful life anyway? Who measures it? Why? How? Maybe my problem with thinking about success is that my natural disposition is to think I’m a failure more than I’m a success. I don’t like people measuring me for success because they are more likely to declare I’m not. To be honest I’ve got to the point in life where I don’t want to put myself in the place where someone can tell me I failed! I’ve done all the exams and tests I want to do thank you! Some of you might say that I’m missing out and that aiming at things and failing is part of how we learn and grow. I agree. There’s always a balance. We don’t like talking about success in churches. If we do, it seems to me it’s always about numbers which leads us to compare ourselves to each other. Who is more successful? Oh…well the church with the most people of course! Really? Maybe. Maybe not. I think the problem is that it’s hard to measure success about spiritual things isn’t it? How do we do that? Ministers talk about success in ministry. No, really they do. If you go to conferences they talk up “success stories”. They don’t call them that, but that’s what they are: dramatic conversions; lots of conversions; growing numbers…There’s nothing wrong with any of those things, but I’m wondering if it’s really a good way to measure success. You don’t hear so much about plodding on in the hum drum of how life and ministry really is most of the time - which may be the best form of success there is. Maybe. Is this blog a success? Not my place to say but I’m sure you have an opinion. Although if you measure it by the number of likes and compare it to the celebrities blogs, I am a resounding failure! Am I a success in your eyes? I’d like to be, but we might understand it differently. I’m wondering f the best it can be, is for me to follow God as best I know how, using all the gifts, talents and abilities he’s bestowed up me for as long as I have breath. And then one day I’ll hear the words: “Well done good and faithful servant. Enter the joy of your Lord.” That will be success. Success of the very best kind indeed.

Promises

Last week I wrote about the CoP test I did to become a member of the BACP. Turns out it’s not the only COP Test that’s going on right now. The BACP CoP test stands for Certificate of Proficiency test. I had to prove to the BACP that I am a competent counsellor. Someone designed a test you can take on a computer that apparently proves someone as competent or not! Apparently I am. The promise that goes with the test is that if you pass, you can become a Registered Member of the British Association of Counselling and Psychotherapy. Now, because I am competent, I can access all the training, resources and help the BACP gives. They will help me find clients should I wish them to. And they give me credibility. After all, if you were looking for a counsellor, wouldn’t you want to know they are in some way competent? I also have to be accountable to the BACP. They can, and will, audit me. I have to keep up with CPD - continuous professional development. When I passed the CoP I had to sign up to this. I had to promise I would keep up with 30 hours of CPD a year. They promise things to me and in return I promise things to them. We have to keep our promises to each other. The other COP is COP26. You’ve probably heard about it. It the 26th Conference of Parties. It’s being held in Glasgow and according to the hype, it might be the last chance we have of saving our planet. It’s about climate change and trying to prevent it. It is full of promises. Nations have already made huge promises to reduce their carbon emissions. The UK has done just that. And we’ve already promised £290 million to help poorer nations tackle the impact of climate change. All we have to do now is deliver on that promise. And all the other ones we make. And that’s all any nation has to do as a result of COP26: deliver on their promises. And there’s the rub. It all sounds great. But making the promises is the easy bit. Keeping them will be the challenge. Barak Obama spoke at the conference yesterday. He urged young people to carry on being angry about climate change. He stated that his generation hadn’t done enough to combat climate change. He said we’re not far enough along the road of the promises already made in reducing carbon emissions. He may well be right. The thing is though, as one young person pointed out after his speech, back in 2009 Barak Obama, when president of the USA, promised $1 billion towards fighting climate change…and failed to deliver it. Evidently he didn’t keep his promise. Delivering on the promises made at COP26 will be anything but easy. But then delivering on promising to do 30 hours of CPD a year isn’t easy, believe me. I have to make an effort to do that. A real effort. And isn’t that always the way with promises? I once promised to follow God as best I know how. I’ve discovered that’s really hard too. It’s not that my intentions are faulty. They’re not. I really do want to follow God as best I can. But I don’t always keep my promises. God, it turns out, also makes promises. And it seems he is quite good at keeping his. He has promised that whenever we turn to him, he is waiting. The story of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15) teaches us that. COP26 is a out saving the planet. And that’s a good thing. But one day, there’ll be a new heaven and a new earth. That’s a promise! The promises made at COP26 are important. And they need to delivered on. Maybe though, some promises go far beyond promises made in Glasgow in 2021. One day we will have to account for our promises. The good news is that we can trust God to keep his.

Never ending..

Fairy tales always end with the line: “And the all lived happily ever after.” It might be true in a fairy tale, but it’s not true in real life is it? Blaise Pascal (of Pascal’s triangle fame if you remember secondary school maths) said that man’s main aim in life, the thing everyone seeks, is to be happy. He said everything we do, we do because with think it will make us happy. He also said that it doesn’t work and so we do lots of things to try and distract us from that truth! Our pursuit of happiness though is never ending. My latest achievement, if that’s what it is, is becoming a Registered Member of the BACP (British Association of Counselling and Psychotherapy). Thanks you! I had to take a test to qualify. It took the BACP five weeks to tell me I had passed. I can now use their logo on my headed paper and put more letters after my name. Turns out I’ve got quite a few now. Mostly, people won’t understand what the letters mean, and neither will they care that much. But it makes me feel good. Makes me feel like I’ve achieved and done well. I remember when I finished my O Levels (that dates me) I decided I was done with exams! Two years later I took my A Levels. Then I went to university and got a degree. Ten years later I trained for Baptist Ministry and spent three years at Spurgeon’s College. Twenty years later (I’m starting to sound old now) I went to train as a Counsellor and spent another three years in college. On the last day of our training at Waverley Abbey College we sat in circle and said what we were leaving behind and what we were taking away (a very counsellor sort of thing). I said I was leaving behind studying. I wasn’t going to do any more. Never. And yet I just took a test to become a member of the BACP. And I have to do CPD (Continuous Professional Development). And I have to keep a CPD log. And, for the Hospice where I do my counselling, I have to do all sorts of training for which I have to take a test. And I do that for my Chaplaincy role too. And I do that for my role as Minister too! It’s never ending. And…oddly, I do it all to make me happy. To make me feel valuable. To give me credibility. Here’s the thing: it’s tiring! I can hardly keep up with myself. It’s even tiring writing about it. God doesn’t want me to be like that. He really doesn’t. It’s not that I shouldn’t do all these things. Most of them I should do! The problem comes in how I understand what I’m doing. At least that’s what Ecclesiastes says. It can be a chasing after the wind. Everything can be. It’s like trying to catch the wind. You can’t. If I see all these things as a means to my happiness, it’s never ending and it won’t work. But Ecclesiastes invites us to see these things in a different way. These things are not given to make me happy and they cannot, in themselves make me happy. They are generous gifts from a loving God (Ecclesiastes chapter 2). And God’s gifts are to be enjoyed for what they are: gifts! And here’s the thing: God’s giving is never ending. He is uncontrollably generous and endlessly loving. My problem is that I see everything from my point of view. I would do well to listen to the Teacher in Ecclesiastes and begin to see tings from a different point of view: the never ending generosity of God. That’s where happiness lies.

Home

I knew it was coming. Actually I’ve known it’s been coming for more than a year now. It’s been coming ever since mum died. It’s a lovely story in many ways, but I knew it was coming to an end. When my dad died in 1970 he had just (literally about three months before) taken out a life insurance policy. Being a vicar with no home of his own and no money to speak of, his death meant we had to move out of the vicarage with nowhere to go! The pay out on his life insurance policy bought us a house - literally to the penny. Mum bought a house where she had grown up and where we then grew up, Wimborne. On Saturday I went to the bungalow she had retired to, for the last time. It’s now sold. It’s now empty. It’s not home anymore. In many ways it’s not been home for a long time. I left Wimborne for university in 1982. I never lived in the bungalow, but it’s the place I grew up, Wimborne. And now the home that was there, is no longer there. I’m not particularly sentimental, but there’s something about not being able to “go home” that I will miss. That I do miss. Already. Thing is, as a follower of Christ I know that Wimborne never really was my home. And was never meant to be my home. Well…not really. Not in the long run. Not in eternal terms. And that’s the challenge. It really is. Jesus put it this way: “Don’t store up for yourselves treasures on earth…But store up for yourselves treasure in heaven... For where your treasure is there will be your heart also.” (Mat. 6 v19-21) We might think this is only about money. Maybe it is about money. But I also think it’s about where you think your real home is. A big part of my heart is in Wimborne. I want to go back there. I will visit. I would live to live there. And there’s noting wrong with being like that. Except for one thing: it’s not my real home. Never has been. Never will be. And if I spend all my time and energy trying to make it my real home, I’m missing out on the real thing. The day has come when it’s my home no longer. One day, this earth will cease to be my home, wherever I happen to be living. One day, one fine day, I will be with my father and my Father in my real home, a home where moth and vermin cannot destroy and thieves cannot steal (Jesus’ words). One day, one fine day I will be welcomed by my loving heavenly father who will rise to meet me and say: “Welcome home, Ian. I have a room prepared just for you. Welcome to your real home.” Right now I live in the tension between my home, and my real home. As I stood in the bungalow for the last time, ready to take way the sofa and the chair to give to a friend, I was faced with the truth that it was not my home. The truth that this world is not my home. And the bigger and far better truth that my real home waits for me. And the truth that one day, one fine day, I will be home.

Deceit

There’s a new film out called “Phantom of the Open” staring Mark Rylance. The film is about the worst golfer in Open history, who it turns out, wasn’t a golfer at all. He was a hoaxer. He was a liar. He was full of deceit. But, in 1976 he fooled the authorities of the British Open by declaring he was professional golfer. Maurice Flitcroft was, in fact a crane driver from Borrow-in-Furness in Cumbria. And he had never played golf. Never. Not once. He was inspired by an American postal worker who, in 1965, had entered the Open and posted a score 221 for two rounds. To put that in perspective, professional golfers playing the British Open will post a two round score of around 135-140! He wasn’t good. Maurice Flitcroft had to paly in a qualifying event in order to play in the Open proper. Having never actually played golf, he got a book by the famous Peter Alliss to learn how to play! It was a flawed tactic. He posted a score of 121, 49 shots over par. It was the worst ever score recorded in Open history. He tried again the next year and because he was so bad and not a professional golfer, he wasn’t allowed in. He changed his name and over the next few years tried under a number of different names and disguises. He was never allowed to play in the British Open. He wasn’t a golfer, he was a liar. He was so bad at golf, that after just two shots of his qualifying round the other players in his group asked the Open officials to check him out! It might sound funny now. We might think of Maurice Flitcroft and say well done for trying. But the truth is, he lied. And he continued to lie for years. He was full of deceit. He wasn’t a professional golfer. He wasn’t even a good amateur golfer. He wasn’t even as good as me! I, of course, would never do what Maurice Flitcroft did. But I am capable of deceit. Maurice Flitcroft thought he was actually good at golf according to one friend. I am capable of that, of thinking I’m better than I am: a better husband, father, minister, colleague, friend, counsellor, chaplain. I am quite capable of living in deceit about myself. I don’t always tell the truth, not the whole truth. I can lie by what I don’t say. or by what I imply. I don’t always do what I say I will. What I say with my mouth doesn’t always match what I’m thinking. I can sing in church but not mean the words. I know stuff about me that nobody else knows. The Bible says that God hates liars: “The Lord hates those who tell lies but is pleased with those who keep their promises.” I think I might have some work to do. And it might be something to do with the truth: the truth about myself and the truth about God. God hates liars, but he is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love (Psalm 103). He is always ready to forgive and always waiting with open arms when we come to him. I might choose to watch the film “Phantom of the Opera” because it might be good for me. It might remind that it is, ultimately only the truth that sets me free (John 8:32).

Holiday take 2

It’s always more fun writing a blog about a holiday before you go than when you get back it turns out! But here I am, dutifully writing a blog. I could go on and on about how great the holiday was (and it was), but it seems a little unfair, because, as I said before, not everyone gets to do what I have been able to do. What I think I began to realise on this holiday is that I’m better at taking delight in the small things and not the “big” things a holiday sometimes brings. Here’s what I mean by that. I took great delight in spotting birds that I haven’t seen before. I used to be a keen bird watcher when I was younger and I know some of the more familiar birds. But there were birds I didn’t recognise. Stupidly, I didn’t take my binoculars (worried about how much luggage we already had to be honest) so I was often gazing from a distance. I bought a bird book to help me out and discovered I had seen Stone Chats, Rock Pipits, Kittiwakes, Great Black Backed Gulls, a Razorbill, Gannets, possibly a Sanderling and, to cap it all, a White Tailed Eagle! You can’t beat that. Oh, except that we saw a porpoise and red deer. I would have been happy with that. But we saw the most majestic mountains, valleys and lochs. I could get lost in that world. It is magnificent. We’ve already booked to go back next year!! And here’s the thing: it speaks, it shouts, it bellows of a God who is endlessly good, uncontrollably generous and irrationally loving, who just loves to give. When I’m there I can see it, feel it and embrace it. Fantastic. But now I’m home? I’ve bumped into all the challenges that life brings. I’ve heard the stories of some of the things people I know are facing. On Saturday we’ll sit as a family, thousands of miles away from other family, and watch on a live stream, the funeral of Lisa’s dad because we can’t be there with them. That’s the reality. Holidays comes to an end, however good they are. The reality of life sticks around and reminds us of things we’d rather forget. What I most want to remember though, is that both of these things are true: God is endlessly good, uncontrollably generous and irrationally loving and, life is hard, sometimes harsh and cruel. If that was the whole truth it wouldn’t be great would it? The whole truth tells me that one day, one fine day, I will see the beauty of God in all his fullness. And that will be better by far than any holiday!

Holiday

This will be the last blog I write for a few weeks because I’m going on holiday! And I am very much looking forward to having a break. It’s been a challenging time and to get away will hopefully be an opportunity to catch up with myself! Holidays it seems to me are a privilege. My best guess is that most of the world never gets a holiday. It’s a thing strangely reserved for a few people who have the means and the opportunity. Put it this way, there are no holidays in a refugee camp. There are no holidays for those stranded in Afghanistan. There are no holidays for many, many slaves around the world today. There are no holidays for the poor. And yet we think of a holiday as a right. And as a status symbol. Where we choose to go on holiday says something about us and maybe that’s what we want. We want to make a statement about who we are by telling others where we went on holiday. It sounds like I don’t like holidays. That’s not true. I do. Mostly I don’t want to come home from holidays! But I recognise that it’s a privilege that most of the world doesn’t have. And the thing about holidays is they are not the real world. Whether I like it or not, I have to come home from a holiday. I have to come back to the world as it really is. And that’s the world in which I actually live. Lisa will tell me that when I’m on holiday, I can be quite a different person than when I’m in the grind of daily life. That’s not a criticism, it’s a statement of fact. And, my best guess is that it will be true for many of us. When I’m on holiday I’m more relaxed. I am! Little things don’t irritate me in the way normally do. Sad, but true! And when I reflect on the question the minister asked a couple of weeks ago in his sermon, “how would your life be different if it was Jesus living it with his heart?” I think I might be more like I’m when I’m on holiday: less stressed, more relaxed, more able to cope. Which begs the question: why am I not more like that anyway? Jesus lived in the full and deep knowledge of his Father’s love. He knew love without limits. Perhaps for me to be more like I am when I’m on holiday in everyday life, it would be good for me to live more fully in the great, deep and magnificent love of God. Just like Jesus.