Bob!

Bob has me marked. And, he has tried to mark me, literally. He missed thankfully, but it was close. And, what is irritating, is that I was walking away from the church at the time, so absolutely no threat to Bob or his nest. Bob, in case you haven’t read my previous blog about him, is the Herring Gull who has a nest on the roof of the church. Bob thinks I’m a threat. Bob thinks I want to do harm to his nest. So Bob takes very seriously the job of warning me that I’m getting too close. Bob now seeks me out. No, he really does. The other day I was walking to the church from the manse and by the time I got half way there, he was flying over me in low, dramatic swoops, squawking loudly. Yesterday I was walking back to the church from the gym (so coming from the opposite direction) and Bob was on the grass by the path. He saw me, flew to the roof of the houses opposite the church, began squawking, and then as I turned into Crabtree Road, began his fly pasts, swooping as low as he could over my head! What he forgets, what he simply doesn’t understand, is that I am not a threat to him or his nest. Thing is though, it sometimes feels as if he is a threat to me! How low will he come? Would he try to bash me with a wing, or try to claw me with his feet. I have been known to duck when he takes me by surprise! It’s unnerving. So now I try to look him in the eye. I try to show him I’m not intimidated by his swooping and squawking! I’ve even been known to talk to him. Not that he listens. And so it goes on, day after day. This morning while I was opening the gates, he swooped me a few time and then sat on the roof making his displeasure quite clear. It’s got me wondering about the things that keep trying to intimidate me, that are nothing to do with Bob, but the things that keep swooping down and making me duck. Things like the feeling that I’m not good enough. That what I’m doing is, in truth, a waste of time. That when things don’t work, or when people don’t turn up, it’s always my fault. That other people are better, or more likeable than I am. These are the kind of things that are always there, lurking somewhere. They’re just waiting for me to walk up the road so they can swoop and squawk at me. I know Bob is only trying to protect his nest, so I’m able to walk to the church and look him in the eye. Bob doesn’t win. I’m able to understand what’s happening and laugh at it. I have a context in which I can place it. And I know it won’t last, because in a few weeks, if there are any chicks in the nest, they’ll be gone and Bob’s job will be done. Not true of the things that swoop me that belong to me. I live with them. They are always present, looking for a chance to swoop and squawk. And they’re pretty good at it (it’s even happening as I write this blog wondering if anyone will actually read it). What Bob has made me wonder is how much I face up to the truth of what is going on in me, as much as I’m prepared to face up to what is going on around me. I’m ok at standing up to Bob, looking hi in the eye and talking him down. How much do I do that with the things that trouble me, that cause me to doubt myself, that cause me to think I’m unlovable, that I have nothing to offer? I know they’re there. Believe me, I live with them. Actually, I do get help. Regularly. But it’s a long, hard journey. “Bob” is always lurking. I’m getting better. I know much more about what’s going on in me, and I try to meet it head on. I’m much better at using my rational self to help me. And I’m much better at placing my inner world in the context of the bigger and far better story of God‘s love: to understand the truth about me in the light of the truth about God and what he thinks of me. I’m learning how that is the best way to face those things that I find challenging. God knows me. God understands me. God has me. God love me. Just how I am. Although I find Bob irritating, in a funny sort of a way he’s helping to face up to what troubles me, what is lurking, waiting to swoop and squawk at me, and to place those things in the story of God’s great love. Thanks Bob!

Wimbledon

I loved it as a kid. I used to rush home from school and spend the whole evening glued to my small, blue transistor radio (remember them?) listening to the commentary. And if I wasn’t listening to it, I was playing tennis. I had access to a couple of private courts (people in the church no less had tennis courts in their gardens) so I spent every spare minute on one of them. I wanted to be a tennis player. I had a great serve, a reasonable forehand but a backhand that needed work! Never had the opportunity to have any coaching so my dream of winning Wimbledon never really got off the ground. My hero was Bjorn Borg. Ice Borg. Fabulous player and still the only player to have won five consecutive titles! And I hope it stays that way! Every year we are obsessed with the British players, desperately hoping this will be the year. It rarely is. And I don’t think it will be this year either. We are obsessed with winning. It’s all about winning. Trouble is, only one person can win (or one pair if it’s the doubles). What does it say about everyone else if the only worthy thing is to be the one who actually wins? And, as I know to be true, only some people ever get the chance to be good enough to play at Wimbledon and an even fewer number ever have the chance to win. Only some people have all the things you need to be able to pay sport at the highest level. I wasn’t one of them. What does that then say about me? Or you? One day Jesus sat down on a hillside and began to teach. And he said that everyone there was a winner! He didn’t use those words, but that’s effectively what he said.. He actually said that the Kingdom of the Heavens was close to them and that meant they were blessed. And a winner! A winner because they could know that the King of the universe loves them. A winner because they can live their life on the knowledge of that deep and profound truth. I’ve given up my dream to be a winner at Wimbledon. I’ll never lift the trophy or have my have engraved on it. But, here’s the thing: my name is written somewhere far more important and somewhere where it will never fade or be forgotten. My name is written on the palm of His hand. Oh, and in the Lamb’s Book of Life. And that means I am a winner.

Seagull

He spoke to me again this morning. More like squawked to be accurate. I’m assuming it’s he. That’ll be his job. Her job will be to sit on the eggs in the nest. We tried to move them on. We fitted little spikes to the ridges of the building so they couldn’t nest - all perfectly legal and acceptable, done by proper bird people. Mostly it worked. This year we only have one nest on the building and there are fewer gulls squawking and bombing us as we enter and leave the building! But Bob (let’s call him Bob - first name that came into my head), is still here. And he’s squawking. And he’s bombing. His nest is built between the spikes on the roof of the church. HIs wife (not sure that’s the correct term here) is sitting on the nest. Bob has only one job. Bob’s job is to protect the nest. And it appears he takes it very seriously! Bob doesn’t seem to know that I can’t climb the building or that I’m not in the slightest bit interested in taking the eggs. He doesn’t know that his eggs are perfectly safe as far as I am concerned. So Bob squawks at me every time I walk towards the building. And he bombs me when the mood takes him, like last evening as I was locking the building. Someone told me that if you look a gull in the eye as they fly towards you they won’t steal your food. I have no idea if that’s true, but it doesn’t seem to make any difference to Bob bombing me. I tried it. I looked him in the eye. He keeps bombing me. He’s just doing his job. And he’s doing it very well. The chicks, well, they have no idea how hard Bob is working to keep them safe. They have no idea that Bob thinks I’m a threat. They have no idea of how he sits on the apex of the Oasis and watches me as I walk down the road, ready the squawk and bomb if he thinks that’ll scare me off. I spoke to him this morning as he sat there. Didn’t make any difference. He still squawked. Bob is diligent and alert. He’s always watching. He’s always protecting. He’s always ready to spring into a bombing raid. He’s always ready with a squawk. It’s his job. And he’s good at it. Right in the middle of the Sermon in the Mount as we call it, Jesus tells us not to worry (Matthew 6:25-34). I think what he’s doing is inviting us to see the world the way he does: that there is a mighty and powerful Father who is actively watching over and protecting us, one who takes his job seriously and who is very, very good at it, one who has our best interest at heart. I think he’s inviting us to know that with God at the centre, the universe is a safe place to be. Precisely because Jesus understood that deep truth, he could fall asleep in a boat in the middle of the storm. He could confront evil and demons. He could give his life into the hands of his Father and say, “into you hands I commit my spirit” in the moment he died. He invites us to live in that truth too. Bob is annoying. But Bob reminds me of a deep, deep truth that I would do well to remember in this challenging and uncertain world. And maybe you would too.

Passion

I meet some interesting people as I go about my work. I met a guy the other day who was very keen to tell about his passion. It was, interestingly, a passion that I once had. I don’t share it now, but at one time it captured me and as it now captures him (well, probably not quite as much to be honest). I used to get up at ridiculous hours of the morning (and, bearing in mind I’ve never really been a morning person, I’m talking frighteningly early) to follow this passion. I would read books, look up facts and I even once went on a course to learn more about it (mainly because my mum made me, but that’s beside the point). I’d never met this man before, but within a few minutes of striking up a conversation, we were deeply into a conversation about fishing. Fishing! It turned out this man was passionate about fishing. I’m not kidding. He told me that he goes all over the world to go fishing. He told about the biggest catch he’d ever caught: he once caught a Hammerhead Shark weighing a staggering 750 pounds! That’s massive. Absolutely massive. He wasn’t a big bloke but he somehow managed to reel the shark in. The boat he was fishing from ended up two and a half miles from the place he hooked the shark - that’s how strong it was, pulling the boat that far. He told me he’d fished in Canada, Florida and Panama as well as many places in Europe and the UK. His next trip will be to France. He spends all his money on fishing trips! He’s always planning the next fishing trip. We spoke about fish (and sharks), lures, bait, rods, boats and the best paces to catch a particular fish. He told me that fishing as a sport is now highly regulated - you can’t even take the fish out of the water before you have to let it go. Hooks are now made without barbs, specially designed to “fall out” once the tension of the line is broken. (My best catch ever, it turns out, was my friend Marc Collins, who I managed to hook while we were fishing together one day. It would have been helpful it that hook didn’t have a barb - it would have saved a trip to the hospital!) We talked about night fishing and all the gear you need for cold night by the lake. I knew enough about fishing to sound like I knew what I was talking about (no, really I did). I was able to talk about when to strike and when not to strike! Just saying! He would have talked for the rest of the day. And as I walked away, it made me wonder about what I am passionate about. Perhaps one way to answer that is to ask what do I spend my money on? R.T. Kendall (I think) said that what we spend our money on is the story of our life! Which might be another way of saying we spend our money on what we are passionate about. Another way of answering that question about passion might be to say it’s whatever I organise my life around. This guy was always planning his next fishing trip. What am I always pursing? Then I wondered if anyone would describe me as passionate about my faith. Or church. Or God. What would someone say? I was once passionate about fishing. I’m not now. So, I’m wondering about my passion. And where it is directed. And what that tells me…about me. The Bible tells me that God is passionate about me. After all, he left one world to come to another…for me! I love the thought that God has a great big photo album with pictures of all his children in and that he gets it out and shows them to the angles saying something like: “Look this is Ian. I’m passionate about Ian. He is precious to me. So precious. I went to the cross for Ian. Don’t you think he’s great? I do. I do. I love him because I love him because I love him. Ian brings me great joy just because of who he is!” I’m wondering about my passion and what it tells me about me. What I can be certain of, is God’s passion, for me.

Popular

So Boris Johnson survived a vote of no confidence in his leadership. Some say he should go anyway. They say 59% of the vote isn’t enough to command the party. Others say a win is a win in a democratic vote. It just depends on your view. Or rather, whether you want Boris to stay or go. Politicians always hope to survive. That’s what it’s all about isn’t it? Being around long enough to win the next election. Perhaps we could say it’s about being popular enough. And that’s where Boris might come undone at the next election. Popularity isn’t his strong point with the voters apparently, most of whom (at least of those who’ve been surveyed) want him to go. Guess we’ll find out at the next election. Popularity isn’t a mark of the Christian though is it? It certainly wasn’t of it’s leader Jesus. He was born in obscurity with just a few shepherds on a hill and some animals to notice. Most people had no idea what was happening. He made a point it seems of upsetting the authorities, both Jewish and Roman, by the the things he did and said. And he upset the religious people too. In fact he upset them so much that they were the ones who handed him over to the Romans. Pilate famously wanted to wash his hands of the whole crucifixion thing, but the crowd, inspired by the religious authorities, bayed for his blood. So crucifixion it was. Hardly the mark of a popular leader. Followers of Jesus weren’t that popular either. Following Jesus they wanted to live a different way, upsetting all the accepted norms of society. Let’s face it, if everyone has equal worth, it’s not good news for those who are far more important. is it? It’s not good news for slavery or poverty or patriarchy either really is it? What’s remarkable is just how much followers of Jesus have in fact changed the world simply because they have followed the teaching of Jesus. Issues like human dignity, equality, education and justice have their roots in the teaching of Jesus. I’m reading a book about all this right now and it’s amazing when you realise how much influence the man Jesus, and his teaching, has had throughout the world. But he wasn’t popular. And often his teaching has not been received as popular. We’re still wrestling with it actually. Still making progress towards putting it into practice. We are still wrestling with his teaching on forgiveness (unless it’s only me who finds it hard to forgive). We’re still wrestling with his teaching about wealth and how to handle it. I understand why Boris wants to carry on in leadership. I understand why, for politicians, popularity is so important. Or at least being popular enough! For followers of Jesus though, there may be something more important than being popular. Or even being popular enough. If we are, really, followers of Jesus, then perhaps following, and living his teaching is more important. And that is true whether it makes us popular or not. Just like for Jesus.

Being right!

I missed the Champions League final, which Liverpool lost to Real Madrid 1-0. I wanted Liverpool to win. Never mind! I was at friends for the first time in a long time, so conversation seemed better than football. And anyway there’s always next season. What has subsequently emerged though, is the trouble Liverpool fans had getting into the stadium to watch the match. Although nobody has said it that I’ve heard, it seemed to me to have frightening parallels to the Hillsborough tragedy in 1989: fans stuck outside with gates locked and too many people being funnelled into a small space. Thankfully there was no repeat of that day. What seems to be happening now is as inquisition as to what went wrong, and rightly so. I, of course, am not qualified to comment on what actually happened, how and why. But I have listened to lots of people talking about it: fans, journalists, commentators and the French authorities. And what I’m wondering is how much of the explanation from the authorities is, ultimately, about being right. They don’t want to take the blame for bad organisation. Or admit they got it wrong. Better to blame others. After all, it doesn’t bode well for future events they are hosting. There’s a lot at stake. An independent inquiry may shed light on the truth, but as we know it’s not always about the truth. I wonder more and more, how much that is true in the church both now and historically. Rightly, the Cristian faith puts a lots of emphasis on the truth. It claims to have the truth about God after all. Just for the record, I’m in that camp. I think it does have the truth about God. But I’m not sure that means that everything the church (and by that I mean the Christian church through the ages) has claimed to be true, is in fact, true. Take for example the belief that the earth was the centre of the universe. Turned out to be wrong, but for a long time it was the established belief of the church. My point here is not to be overly critical of things we now understand differently (and we have to accept that some of this was to do with knowledge we now have but wasn’t available in the same way to other generations of believers). My issue, what I struggle with, is how being right becomes the main thing. I guess another way of expressing this thought is how we treat people with whom we disagree. How do we, as Christians, respond to, and treat, those with whom we disagree, who don’t have, or know, the truth? When does being right become more important than the truth? Key to my thinking and my wrestling is to hold that, perish the question, what if I’m wrong? What if, what I believe is not true? Now I’m sounding like I don’t believe, that I’m not even a Christian! Actually I do. And I am, more than I’ve ever done or been. But, what I have come to realise, is that I have to hold the possibility that on any number of things I might be wrong. I’m reading a really good book at the moment on the issue of same sex relationships, the Bible and the church. It is deeply biblically and theologically astute. It is written by experts in biblical studies and theology respectively. It engages both sides of the debate. And here’s the point, the two sides of the debate don’t agree. And, they can’t both be right! It’s a very nuanced debate, much more so than most people want to make it. It’s difficult, pastorally sensitive ground. What most impresses me about the book is that all four authors hold deeply to the truth as they understand it, but they all hold the possibility that they may be wrong! Perhaps we would all do well to stake this stance. Does it mean I can’t preach what I believe to be the truth? No it does not. I have said I will preach only that of which I am convinced. I will continue to preach only that of which I am convinced. But I do so holding that I might, in fact, be wrong. I’m wondering how the inquiry into the trouble at the Champions League final might be different if all sides have the humility to hold that they might be wrong. I’m wondering how much of church history would be different if Christian had held that they might be wrong. And I’m wondering what difference it would make to Christians today if we hold to the truth we believe, but hold to it in the light that we might, in fact, be wrong. I’m sorry if this leads you to think I’ve lost my faith, or at least it’s core. I don’t think I have at all. And, I might, of course, be wrong about all this! But that concerns me less now. The good news is that God knows the whole truth. And he holds me and loves me. And he does so however right or wrong I might be.

Jubilee

So the Jubilee celebrations have begun. We might even be having a street party and we’ve never had one of those in the 22 years we’ve lived in the road! There are many kinds of celebrations being planned and no doubt many people will be taking part in one or more of them. It is a remarkable achievement for the Queen. She has, whatever you think of the institution of the monarchy, been a great servant of the nation and very faithful to her role as head of state. I suspect though, that there will fewer people celebrating her Platinum Jubilee that celebrated her accession the the throne. It’s been 70 years. And that’s a long time. And many things have changed in those 70 years. Attitudes to the monarchy have changed. My guess is that there will be a lot of people who will not want to join in and celebrate an institution they feel is outdated. Like many, I watched the FA Cup Final last Saturday. Apparently there was booing during the National Anthem. Booing from people who live under the Queen as the head of state. No-one condones that. It’s not good. But one commentator suggested it was important to understand why some might feel they want to boo the National Anthem. That is a discussion beyond the scope of this simple blog, but it may be about how some perceive wealth and status and inherited position. And that may be especially so at this challenging time of the rising cost of living! To see privilege and wealth must be hard for some. It seems to me those kind of dynamics have always been a problem. Jubilee is a challenging Old Testament concept that was supposed t be practised in the nation of Israel: Israel, the nation chosen by God to be a light to the Gentiles. Another way of saying that is to say that Israel was supposed to be an example of how life was to be lived at its best. Trouble is, it didn’t often do that. In Israel the rich got richer and the poor got poorer. Sound familiar? So God instituted Jubilee. Jubilee was an economic thing. It was designed to challenge the economic disparity in the nation. Every 50 years the whole economic life of Israel would get shaken up and the wealth redistributed. And when the trumpet sounded it would begin. The sound of the trumpet would be good news for the poor. The sound of the trumpet would not be good news for the rich. And guess what? Jubilee was never really practised in the nation of Israel. The poor longed for it. The rich didn’t want anything to do with it. Sound familiar? The Queen has been a great example to the nation: a faithful servant to her calling. And that is worth celebrating. As followers of the King, we are servants of another, far bigger and better Kingdom. And there’s another Jubilee that might be worth celebrating too. I might be part of a street party to celebrate one. I have to figure out my response to the other. And, perhaps, so do you.

Seasons

Today is apparently the first day of celebrations for the Queen’s Platinum Jubilee. It is, by any stretch, a remarkable achievement. She is now the third longest reigning monarch in history. She has a couple of years to go if she is to become top of the list and surpass King Louis XIV of France who ruled for a bit over 72 years! But, this is a milestone very few monarchs have reached. For the first time in 60 years (apart from two years when she was pregnant) the Queen did not deliver the speech at the State Opening of Parliament earlier this week. She is now 96. And, the truth is, she can’t go one forever. Life is a season. Her reign is a season. A season has a beginning and an end. That’s why it’s season. In the not too distant future there will be a change. One season will end and another will begin. It’s the simple truth about the way life is. I’m not very good at seasons. If I have a quality, it is that I am faithful and committed and loyal. What I’m not good at is change. So, I like things to go on as they are. That would be great, apart from the truth about seasons. In the end, it doesn’t matter how faithful and committed and loyal I might be. Things will not go on forever. It’s not bad to be any of those things. To be faithful, committed and loyal is to live well. But it doesn’t mean things last. And the truth about seasons is that nothing lasts. When any monarch dies, someone will say: “The King/Queen is dead! Long live the King/Queen.” When the Queen dies, someone will say: “The Queen is dead. Long live the King!” It’s a way of acknowledging the end of one season and the beginning of a another. The reign of Queen Elizabeth II has ended and the Reign of King Charles !!! will begin. There is a book that talks about seasons. It’s a complex, but beautiful book. You should read it. It’s called Ecclesiastes. The only bit of this book we are familiar with (forgive me if you’ve read it) is the bit which talks about seasons: “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.” (Ecclesiastes 1:1) It’s a very practical book. But it has a twist. It has twist because it is the book of a King. Not an earthly king, but the King. The King of the universe. And, in his Kingdom, when I die, someone will say: “Ian is dead. Long live Ian! Because, God has placed eternity in the human heart (Eccl. 3:11) and when my season on earth comes to an end, another season will begin. Well, actually, it’s already begun, but I’ll experience it in all its fulness. And that’s because there is a King who is faithful and committed and loyal towards me and who will welcome me into his presence to live fully in his Kingdom. I might not be very good at seasons, but the King is. And that’s great news for me. And you!

Second Half

You may not have watched them, but if you didn’t you missed a treat. Mostly they are much the same and you see the same things over and over again. But every now and then you get an absolute gem. Or two. I’ll tell you this, these two will be talked about for years to come. In fact, people are already saying one of them is the best ever. The best ever! That’s quite a claim. And, I’m inclined to agree. Certainly up there with the best I’ve ever seen. Oh…I’m talking about the Champions League semi-final second leg match between Manchester City and Real Madrid last evening. Now…don’t give up just because I’m talking about football. You might not like football or be interested in the result, but there is a powerful truth at work in what happened last evening. So, for a moment, allow me to indulge. City were leading 4-3 from the first leg. And, they scored to lead 5-3 on aggregate in the 73rd minute of the game. At that point Real had to score three goals to win the game and there were only 17minutes left to play. After 90 minutes (a game only lasts 90 minutes ordinarily) that was still the score. At this point Manchester City thought they’d won. Everybody watching thought they’d won. So, with no time left, Real Madrid have to score three goals to win the game. And here’s the thing, here’s what makes it arguably the best game ever in a semi-final of the Champions League, they did. They scored three goals and won the game. They scored in the 90th minute, the 91st minute (because time gets added on for stoppages for injures) and then in the 95th minute (because at 5-5 it went into extra time). It was absolutely extraordinary. It was almost unbelievable. But, it happened. And here’s the deep truth: you can have a great second half! When everything is looking lost, it is possible that it will change. In another place and another time, in an event that was of an entirely different magnitude than a semi-final of the Champions League, they thought they’d won. Everybody watching thought they’d won. They’d nailed Jesus to a cross and they thought they’d won! Even Satan himself thought they’d won. Because Jesus died and when people die they stay dead. But, what makes this the best story ever told, Jesus, didn’t stay dead. Jesus was raised to life. And that changed everything. Because of that our lives can be changed. Because of that we can have a great second half. What? We can have a great second half? Ok, so what I mean is this: ultimately loves wins. And because of the truth that Jesus didn’t stay dead, love can win in your life and mine. And love can win in my life and yours whatever has happened or is happening now. Love, God’s love, is transforming love. And when we open our lives to God’s love, His love can transform us. You might not have watched the football last evening. That doesn’t matter - it really is only a game (even if it’s a really, really good one!) But you can have a good second half - your life can be transformed by God’s great and magnificent love.

House

It is quite extraordinary, but as I write our new tenants are living in our house. It’s extraordinary because at Christmas we hadn’t really thought a great deal about looking at houses, let alone done much thinking as to if, and how, we might buy one. Yet here we are, less than four months after looking at this particular house, having welcomed our tenants in by leaving them chocolates and bubbly in the new fridge! By any stretch it is extraordinary. We, however, will not live in the house ourselves for at least seven years as far as we can tell. We can’t afford to. To live in it, we have to wait. We know it’s there, but we’re not there yet. Not yet. Things don’t always go to plan in this life, but, we are hoping that in seven years time, we will live in our house. There’s another house that is being prepared for me. It’s a house that I don’t yet live in. But, like the house I now own in Crawley, it’s there waiting for me. And one day I will live in the house. That’s a promise. It’s not a promise I made, but a promise that’s been made to me: “And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.” (John 14:3) Jesus made that promise to me. And to you. It’s the promise that one day I will go to be with my heavenly Father and be with him in his house! I’m not there yet, but I will be. Songwriter David Meece says it this way:
Sometimes at night I dream of a throne
Of my loving God, calling me home
And as I appear, He rises and smiles
And reaches with love to welcome His child
Never to cry, never to fear
In His arms, safe and secure.

My father's chair sits in a loving room
My father's chair, no matter what I do
My father's chair, through all the years
And all the tears I need not fear
Love's always there in my father's chair.

That’s my house! But here’s the thing: we only have a house in Crawley because my mum died and we inherited from her estate. My mum only had a house because my Dad died suddenly and unexpectedly when he was young and three months after his best friend had persuaded him to take out a life insurance policy. He was a Vicar and they had no house of their own! I hope one day to live in the house in Crawley. But the bigger and far better story is that I have a house waiting for me in heaven because of another death. Jesus died and rose again, as we remembered just last Sunday and his death means I have a place in my Father’s house. And that is the most important story. It is the story of my eternal destiny. And I’m really looking forward to a family reunion, in my Father’s house!

Easter Lemonade

Today was chores day. I am detailed to do the gardening. I have to cut the hedge and the grass. That’s a four hour job! Lisa in detailed to clean the house. Before I start the chores I have to write up my notes for the Easter Day talk and finish writing the epic poem I will deliver in the service tomorrow. I’m in “the office” when I hear strange noises coming from downstairs where Lisa is rumoured to be cleaning. Cries of “Ahhh!” and “Nooo!” can be heard floating up the stairs. Worried Lisa might be in difficulty with a mop and a bucket, I run downstairs to see what’s happening. Lisa is drenched! There’s liquid everywhere: on the floor on the ceiling and on the windows. “what’s happened?” I ask. “It’s lemonade!” Lisa replies. Lemonade? How is there lemonade everywhere? It turns out Lisa had decided to clear the passage way of the half full bottles of lemonade that have been sitting there for ages. And when she took the top off one bottle it exploded - literally. It exploded over the floor the ceiling and the windows! It was a mess. A real mess. And Lisa was covered in lemonade! So Lisa’s job new job, was to clean up the mess. Reminds me of Easter. When there’s a mess someone has to clean it up. And there was a mess. A huge mess. Adam and Eve did not choose the way of love and the mess began. But the mess deepened. That’s the nature of evil: it takes what is good and twists it. And everything got twisted. Some messes you have to sort out yourself. But some messes are way too big for that. And we couldn’t sort out the mess we had created. No amount of cleaning up was going to do it. So God did it. His love is so big and so deep and so wide that he chose to clean up the mess we had created. Jesus chose the way of love. Jesus chose to leave heaven, to live between the dreaming and the coming true with us, here on earth. He chose to go to the cross. He chose to feel the pain, feel the hurt. To hear the insults, to take the beating. He chose to be in the mess to clean up the mess. For in that act of going to the cross that’s what he did. He came to us in the mess that we might be free of the mess. We have to dwell in the mess for now, but one day, one fine day, there will be no mess. No mess at all. Between the dreaming and the coming true, the one who came to us in the mess, comes to us still. May you know him come to you this Easter time.

Birthday

I have a birthday in the next few days. Another one! I’m not really sure I want anymore. Perhaps the only good thing is that people think I’m younger than I am. Or is that simply denial on my part? My mum used to complain that people always thought she was younger than she was and expected her to be able to do things she could no longer do. I haven’t got to that stage yet. Maybe that too is denial - I still try to convince myself I can do everything I could do when I was younger. Mostly I can. Just not as fast! Recently though I’ve realised I’ve been doing something I used to to do when I was a lot younger. When you’re young you spend your life wishing you were older. You’re not 9 you’re nearly 10. Parents tell us not to wish our lives away. At least my mum did. I grew out of that. Then I grew into wanting to be younger than I am: I’d love to be 30 again! But now, recently, I’ve find myself wishing I was older so I could retire! I’ve found myself counting the years until it might, in some way, be possible. And it’s just dawned on me that I’m wishing my life away, again. I’ve wondered why. It’s not because I don’t think I have anything left to give, because I’ve got lots left to give. I am tired of some things, yes, but I have new things I’m doing. And deep down I know I have energy and stuff to give! On the other hand, I want out! I’ve been reading a book that may just have shown me something I need to attend to in all this. I need to attend to my soul. Life, illness, COVID-19, death, the loss of many plans, people leaving the church, new challenges, fear, worry, doubt, uncertainty about the future, loss in other people, demands on my time and energy, draining people, demanding people…have all taken their toll on my soul. And, now, I’m wishing my life away. What I’ve realised is that I need to attend to my soul. I’ll be another year older on Saturday. But I might not be another year wiser. That’ll only be true if I face the truth about the state of my soul. I will probably need to make some changes, attend to things I’ve begun to neglect, find ways to be creative and do what is good for the soul. I can probably keep going as I am. But I don’t have to. And God for one doesn’t want me to: “I have come that you may have life in all it’s fulness.” (John 10:10) So perhaps the best birthday present I can give myself is to begin to attend to my soul. I’ve made a start by reading a book encouraging me to do just that. And here’s final thought: this blog probably won’t get many likes because it’s not that kind of blog. But my best is that most of you reading this, probably all of you, like me, need to attend to your soul. The first step, as I have discovered, is admitting it. To yourself! So here’s hoping: another year older and another year wiser.

Sacrifice

When I’m in the car I listen to BBC Radio Five Live. It’s the station with all the sport…and some news! One day last week I was listening to an interview with the retired swimmer Karen Pickering. The interview was about the challenge of trying to encourage girls to engage in sport into adulthood as the fallout rate is high. I wasn’t really listening if I’m honest because it’s a topic I’ve heard discussed many times and indeed was involved in may times when I was a PE Teacher. But, suddenly and unexpectedly I found myself listening intently. Karen Pickering stared to talk about sacrifice. Apparently what puts some girls off taking up sport into adulthood is the idea of having to make sacrifices to do it, that you have to be prepared to give something up in order to be involved in sport as an adult. Maybe. But the thing that grabbed my attention and had me listening avidly to the radio was the way Karen Pickering understood sacrifice. She wanted to make a distinction between making a choice and making a sacrifice. And her reason? She gets really cross when sports stars claim they had to make lots of sacrifices to do well in their sport. And it seems, they very often do! But for Karen Pickering, they haven’t made sacrifices, they’ve made choices! And, mostly, as she would see it, pretty easy choices. For herself she recognised that she too, had had to make choices to become a top swimmer. But they were choices and not sacrifices! She had to choose not to pursue ballet to enable her to train as a swimmer. A choice! She chose swimming over other things she might have chosen to do. And, I’m with her. I have found myself getting frustrated when sports people wax lyrical about sacrifice. I find myself thinking: but most of us never get the opportunity to make the choices you did! Choice, not sacrifice. It got me thinking. There are many today making a sacrifice in Ukraine. Many who are prepared to sacrifice their life. Some already have. Others will. It’s more than a choice. Much more. And for some it has, or will, cost them everything. I find that challenging. Very challenging. It is a tragedy. It is a tragedy that reflects, in its most terrible form, the consequences of a fallen world. Sometimes though, the only way is that of sacrifice. That appears to be true at the moment in the Ukraine. And we hope it ultimately brings peace. Sacrifice is at the centre of the universe. It is, in truth the only hope we have for lasting peace. For at the centre of the universe is self-sacrifice: that Christ chose the cross. It is that act, that sacrifice, that has become the means of God’s love reaching to us, here and now and for eternity. The sacrifices of the men and women of Ukraine today we hope will bring peace. But there in only one sacrifice that affects eternity. I have to figure out how I respond to the tragedy of the sacrifices in the Ukraine. And I have to figure out how I respond to the sacrifice that affects eternity. And maybe you do too.

Kindness

I read something this morning that has hit me right between the eyes. It’s not something entirely new, but it has come with a different twist and a force that has quite surprised me. And even since reading it, reflecting on it, deciding to write a blog about it, I’ve experienced the truth of it! So, you may be wondering, what did I read? Well, here’s the bit I’m very familiar with: “Love your neighbour as yourself!” (Mat. 22:40) No doubt you know that as well as I do. No doubt you’ve heard it as many times as I have. No doubt you would say it’s a good thing and something we should all try hard to do and a good way to live. After all, it’s the second command, second only to loving God with all your heart soul and mind. So, if you’re a follower of Christ, it’s not an optional extra. But there’s a twist I’d never really engaged with before today. C.S. Lewis apparently described this command as “horrible command"! He’s more bold than me. But he evidently spotted what I had, unit this morning, failed to spot. Or at least I’d had a very different take on. I had always made the assumption that God gave this command because the deep truth of the human condition is that we love ourselves! I’ve even, I think, preached about the fact that because we love ourselves, we get into all sorts of problems! Which, in some ways, I still think is true. But this morning I read something that leapt out at me and echoed where C.S. Lewis is coming from. He noted that it is a horrible command if you don’t love yourself. And sadly many people don’t. And, what haunted me is that, a lot of the time, I don’t love myself. Not really. And if I love others in the way I love myself, then, a lot of the time, that’s simply not good. I’m not trying to be clever here, I’m simply being honest. I have a hard time loving myself. I know, I’m a minister and a counsellor and in both those places I spend a lot of time helping people recognise the deep and profound truth that God loves them because he loves them…which I honestly believe is true. But I have a hard time recognising that truth for myself, because, I find it hard to love myself. If I treated people the way I treat myself, you’d have thrown me out of ministry a long time ago. No, seriously, you would. Here’s just one example: when I came to write this blog I noticed that last week’s blog got 5 likes! And down the spiral I went: I’m rubbish, I have nothing to say, people think it’s not even worth hitting whatever button it is you have to hit to “like” something. I nearly didn’t even start this blog. You won’t like this one either: it’s not profound , it’s not commenting on the way the world is…And, if I spoke to people the way I speak to myself…The good news is that I’m working on it. I’m trying to find ways to be kind to myself, for being kind to myself is the beginning of the healing. The Bible tells us that God is love (1 John 4:16) and Pau tells us that the first thing about love is that it is patient and kind (1 Cor. 13:4). Which means God is kind to me, even if I find it hard to be kind to myself. In a world that needs lots of kindness, especially at the moment, maybe it’s actually really important that we all engage in this kind of reflection. I was going to write all sorts of other things in this blog, hoping to impress you! But, I’m going to be kind to myself (and maybe to you too) and stop now. I’m going to continue this challenging journey for myself because it’s what God wants me to do, precisely because he is love. And maybe he wants you to do so too.

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.