Air Time!

I have the “T” Shirt and I wear it proudly. “I survived!” Underneath is written the word Kondaa. For the uninitiated Kondaa is the tallest and fastest coaster in the Benelux region, and reaches a top speed of 70.2 mph (113.0 km/h) and has the world's first non-inverting cobra roll element. It’s big! Just going up the first hill is somewhat frightening. But, as if that wasn’t impressive enough, I rode 34 rollercoasters in three days! I bottled on none of them. I went on everything - even the kiddie rides! I went way too fast, was spun upside down, twisted, accelerated at ridiculous speeds while going backwards and soaked in water! And…I survived. Actually, I did a lot more than survived. I really enjoyed it, the whole thing. Don’t get me wrong, I was freaked out on some of the rides - the first time round at least. Which means yes, I went on some rides more than once! The first ride on the first day was “The ride to happiness!” An interesting name given to the most frightening ride of them all. I have never held on more tightly to anything than I did to the handle bar on that ride. I honestly don’t know how to describe it. But I went on it again. And again. And each time I held on like there was no tomorrow! Maybe for that reason I voted it the best of all the rides. Thing is though, I couldn’t quite bring myself to do “air time” on “The ride to happiness.” Kondaa has 15 opportunities for air time, and by my 4th ride, I was embracing air time like an old timer! Air time is the time you spend out of your seat during the ride. These modern rollercoasters have seat bars that hold you in (nothing that goes over your shoulders) and brave (or stupid) riders allow themselves to lifted off their seat as the coaster races round the track. At first I simply held on with all my might, but gradually I learnt to trust that the seat bar would hold me and there was freedom in going where the ride took me. No seriously, it was great. I even did the last ride of our three days (on Untamed) with my hands in the air all the way round! I learnt to love and embrace air time. You should try it! And it got me thinking: where else in life would I do well to embrace air time? Where else would I do well to let go and live in the moment? Where else would I do well to let go and trust? I might do well to trust God more. If I believe that God has my best interest at heart, which I do, maybe I would do well to trust him in the things I am finding challenging. I am finding church challenging right now. I am wresting with all sorts of things about it. And yet, it’s not my church, it’s his church. Maybe I would do well to give some of the things I can’t solve, the things that keep me awake at night, to him and trust that he will hold me and the church. Why would he not? Trust is not ignoring what’s going on and choosing to do nothing about it. Trust is not abandoning responsibility. Trust is not being stupid. When I chose to get on the rollercoasters, it was a considered choice. Rollercoasters are actually very safe. It is true that sometimes accidents happen, and they are often tragic because of the nature of rollercoasters. Sometimes accidents are a result of human error. But mostly they are remarkably safe. I took a considered view. I wasn’t stupid. And then I made a choice. A choice to trust myself to a ride with a risk. And that’s when I got to experience air time. There’s no air time standing at the side and watching. From everything I know about God and everything I have experienced of God, I have a choice: will I trust him for the next bit? It might seem scary and it might take me way out of my comfort zone, but I might get to experience air time, that time of knowing I am held by God in a way I could not know if stood on the side lines. Zac is now planning a trip to Poland to take us rollercoasters that are twice the size of the ones we went on in Belgium and Holland. And I have a choice. Turns out I have other choices too. And, maybe, so do you!

Rollercoasters!

So here’s what happened. Zac organised a trip to Belgium and Holland with friends to go to three theme parks, over the Jubilee holiday weekend . The trip was for three days to visit a different park each day and spend the each day on the rollercoasters. He loves rollercoasters. And so, it seemed did his friends. They all signed up. The trip was booked. The plans were made. Zac was really excited. He’d been planning the trip for months. A couple of weeks before the trip, one of the two drivers (only two of the group are 25 and able to drive a hire car) realised he’d double booked himself that weekend and couldn’t go on the trip. The other driver didn’t want to be the only driver, so he then pulled out. And then the trip couldn’t go ahead. Zac was gutted. He tried to rearrange the trip for August, but no-one would join him. Zac sent this message round our family WhatsApp group: “Anyone want to come with me to Belgium and Holland to go on rollercoasters?” He was desperate. Lisa said: “We’ll go!” The first I knew I’d been volunteered was when I read her message! Zac asked: “Are you serious, or is this a joke?” I replied: “No joke, we’re serious! We’ll go” So tomorrow Zac, Lisa and I are going to Belgium and Holland for three days…to go on rollercoasters! It will be fun. It will be a great time together, just the three of us with Zac leading us round theme parks. He knows everything there is know about the park. And the rides. He know the order we’ll be doing the rides in at each park. He knows how fast they go, how high they are, how much “air time” you get on which rides. We will simply follow him around the park and get on the rollercoasters. Or not! This trip is not what Lisa and I would have chosen, but it was offered and we took the opportunity to invest in our relationship with Zac. After all, how many more times will he want to go on holiday with his aging parents? Ruth did the same kind of thing. Her story was more challenging, but after the death of her father-in-law and her husband, she chose to invest in her relationship with Naomi and follow her back to Bethlehem from Moab. She had no idea what would happen. She had no idea she would meet a man called Boaz, marry him and become the mother of Obed and the great- grandmother of David, Kind David, the greatest King Israel ever had. Or that centuries later Jesus would be of the line of David! And she was from Moab, the enemies of Israel! It’s amazing how God works. Ruth made a choice out of love. She chose to stay with Naomi - a great act of love. And God, centuries later, would make a choice and in a great act of love would leave heaven and dwell with us in Jesus. God meets us in his choice to love. Our choice is to go to Belgium and Holland to go on rollercoasters. It’ll never make it into the Bible, but when we choose to love, who knows what God might do?

Toad!

A couple of weeks ago my brother-in-law and his eldest son came to visit from the USA, their first visit since 2009! So, obviously, we went to France while they were here. We spent a couple of days travelling and a day at the Normandy beaches, with a trip to the Bayeux Tapestry thrown in. It was a lovely, if challenging time. We stayed in a town called Lisiuex and arrived after a long days travel, although to be fair it didn’t take us as long as it might have done, or as long as we were worried it might. The weekend before we went there were 21 hour delays, people waiting in their cars for 21 hours! So we left early anticipating a long wait at the tunnel. Turns out there were no queues and we arrived in France before we due to leave England. Never-the-less, by the time we got to Lisiuex, it had been a long day. We drew into Lisieux excited about what the town would be like and what our accommodation would be like (you can do all the research you want but you never really know until you get there). We got to the crossroads knowing we needed to go straight across, but saw a French policeman sitting in his car blocking the road! No problem, we thought, Google maps will re-route us. And indeed it did, around a few roads, only to bring us right back where we started and still not able to go down the road to our accommodation. So we parked up and went to speak to said policeman, who was still sitting in his car. It turned out his English was about as good as our French! And he had a very puzzled look on his face when we told him we needed to go down the road he was blocking to get to our accommodation. Then he smiled! And chuckled! For a moment we had no idea what was going on until we realised that we had, in fact, told him we need to go down this toad! Then we laughed! And so did he! We managed to figure out the road was closed until midnight because there was a cycling event in the town that afternoon and evening! We’re laughing about it still, actually. It was funny. But it was also bad communication. Perhaps we could have learnt a bit of French before we went, after all, it was over 40 years ago that I learnt it in school. But learning French takes time and effort. Perhaps learning to communicate well takes a bit of time and effort too. Sometimes bad communication is funny. Really funny. Sometimes it’s not. We could laugh about our bad communication. Sometimes it’s no laughing matter. How many relationships have failed because of bad communication? How many heartaches could have been avoided with good communication? How many problems have been caused by poor communication or mis-communication? Lisa and I both trained as counsellors at the same time, on the same course. Some people thought it was a bad idea. Turns out, it was a really good idea. But it was hard work. Sometimes very hard work. It required a lot of effort. And not just once. It required effort over a long time. Lisa and I learnt a whole new language with which we could communicate, which has been invaluable in our relationship. Mind you, you might sometimes hear me say: “Don’t do that counsellor thing on me. I know exactly what you’re doing!” Truth is, we have learnt whole new way of communicating, especially in the difficult conversations. God, it seems, has worked really hard at communicating with us. And many times, he’s found extraordinarily creative ways of trying to communicate with those he loves. If you don’t believe me, go read Ezekiel or Jeremiah! The greatest piece of creative communication in human history is God’s work: the birth, life, death and resurrection of Jesus. He wanted to tell us just how much we are loved. His greatest desire for me is that I am fully known by him and that I know him fully. That might take some work. I figure that if I want to know him fully and be fully know by him, I might have to be ready to work at it.

Accessible

I realised a little after the event that I was the only one in the room alive when it happened last time. And the last time it happened I was too young to know or appreciate what was happening. That was in 1966 when England won the World Cup. Fifty-six years later and this time the women’s England team won the 2022 European Championship beating Germany 2-1 in extra time. Different era, different people, but a winning side again. Well done England. Well done indeed. You never know, the men’s team might do the same thing later this year as the men’s Word Cup is held in Qatar. That would be great. Two winning England teams in the same year. That would be…unbelievable. What’s emerging from the success of the women’s team, is the talk about how this is a game changer. A game changer not in the sense of a different game of course , but in the sense of changing the perception of the women’s game. The talk is now that it will open the game up to more young girls. The hope is, that having watched the women’s team win the 2022 Euros, there will be more opportunity and encouragement for girls to play football. When I was a PE Teacher, I ran a girls football team. We played matches against other schools. Some girls loved it then, twenty five years ago and more. I would love football to see more girls playing football. I would love it to be more accessible to more girls. Maybe it will happen. The same, I think, was hoped when England won the men’s rugby world cup in 2003, when Andy Murray won Wimbledon in 2013 and 2016 and when a whole host of other sportsmen and women won events and tournaments: that this would be the moment that changed it for these sports. This would be the moment when everyone played football or rugby or tennis or whatever sport had just experienced a win! Thing is, I’m not sure it’s happened. And I’m not sure it will. More girls probably will play football now. But not all of them. Some will love it and go on and play for a living. Most won’t. Some won’t even play the game. Ever. And very few, if any, will experience what we saw on Sunday evening. That’s not me being a pessimist. It’s me telling the truth. What happened on Sunday will be a game changer for some, but, in the grand scheme of things, only a few. There’s only one thing which is a game changer for everyone. The truth about football is you have to be in the right place, with the right people, with the right kit, with the right opportunity, with the right help, at the right time. And, quite simply, not everyone has that. And, if you’re going to make it big, you have to have the right talent. It’s simply not true that anyone can be a winner like on Sunday evening. But, there is one thing that is accessible to everyone, anywhere in the world. And you don’t have to be lucky enough to have the right talent, or the right kit, or a whole host of other things. The deep and profound truth about God is he is available to everyone and anyone, wherever and whoever they are, whatever advantages they have or do not have. The deep and profound truth is that God’s love of for everyone. God is accessible. Always and everywhere. And in that sense, everyone’s a winner. And that means you are too!

Heat!

It’s not so hot today, thankfully! I missed the free ice creams for NHS staff at East Surrey on Monday. Apparently everyone else got there before me and by the time I went searching for the ice cream van, it was heading home! And today in Crawley hospital, the ice creams came round for patients while I was visiting, but of course, I wasn’t offered one! Ah well. Good for the figure I suppose. But it’s been hot, hasn’t it? Really hot. We have to act differently in such heat. Record heat in fact. It turns out it’s never been hotter than it was yesterday in these fair Isles. Well, at least not since keeping records of such things began! Predictions say it’s going to be more common. I’m wondering if that includes free ice creams at the hospital! It’s a serious thing though, rising average temperatures. And really hot days becoming more common. The Fire Brigade have been talking about changing how they work and needing far more staff to cope with what might lie ahead. Climate change is having an impact. And it can seem like a scary future lies ahead. Some look at it and say it points to the end of the world. And soon! Others say we can change things if we act now. What we do know is that we are getting closer to the end of the world. At least, that’s true if we have a Christian world view, because a Christian worldview says there will be a second coming of Christ which will bring the end of the world. Or perhaps more accurately, the end of the world as we know it. And the end of the world as we know it, is, ultimately, a good thing in the Christian worldview, because it marks the beginning of the world filled with the glory of the heavens. Which might be another way of saying that it will be the beginning of the world that is filled with God. He will be all in all. And that’s a good thing, because, for the first time, we will be fully known by God, and know him fully! So, am I saying the climate change thing, the soaring temperatures, the challenges to people in all parts of the world in so many ways are all things to be ignored, or forgotten about. Not at all. Now, while we are stewards of this world, we need to, and should, do everything we can to care for the earth and the people living on it. But I think I am also saying that it is good to hold it all in the context of eternity. To hold it in the deep and profound truth that this world is, in fact, temporary. That one day this world will, in the words of the song, dissolve like snow. And to have hope beyond that, means we have hope now, too. Hope that helps us work for good, now, and not just wait for something better. Even Jesus didn’t know when the world would end. He said only his Father knew that. So, since I don’t know when this world will fade away, I will live in the best way I know how, and hope in the future.

Gym

It’s entirely my fault. I don’t often say that, but this time it really is. I’m sitting in my chair as I type this blog, not really wanting get out of it, even though the office is uncomfortably hot. I went to the gym this morning. I don’t often go to the gym in the morning for one very good reason: my body doesn’t wake up until later in the day. But today, I went in the morning. I don’t often go to the gym on a Tuesday either. Or rather I don’t often go up to the gym when I get to the gym - I go to the pool. I play football on a Monday evening, as I have since the club started way back in 2004 or thereabouts. I don’t go into the gym on Tuesday because I play football on a Monday evening and my aging limbs need another day to recover before I punish them with the treadmill and the weights. But today I went to the gym. I went because I had been invited. By a trainer. A trainer who, a few weeks ago asked me if was going to use the gym or the pool as I arrived for my swim. I made the mistake, if that’s what it was, of saying I don’t go in the gym often anymore. By the end of the conversation I had signed up for some training sessions, with a trainer. So today I went to the gym, in the morning, before my body is really awake, to meet the trainer. And now I’m sitting in my chair not wanting to move! And it’s my own fault. But here’s the thing: if I want to get back in the gym and make use of it, if I want to stay well and healthy, if I want to look after my mental health, then I need to go to the gym. I’d got out of the habit. I have my reasons, all pretty good ones even if I do say so myself! But something needed to change. And that conversation with the trainer…Now, I’m learning new ways of “working out”, new approaches to using the equipment. I know about using the gym - I trained as a PE Teacher. But I needed some help to motivate me to change, to do new things, to think about things differently, to rise to a new challenge, to stop me becoming lazy. It would be easy to have left the gym behind and just do swimming and football, biking and walking and playing golf. All of which are good for me and help me physically and mentally. But the gym has different things to offer me. In truth, I’ve found the last couple of years of my journey of faith really challenging. Lots has happened. Lots has happened personally and in the family and lots has happened in the church. I’m wrestling with how life is now, both personally and in the church. I’ve left behind some of the good things I used to do. I’ve left behind some ways of thinking about life and faith and church that once helped me. And I’m beginning to realise that I would do well to re-engage with them. There are some disciplines that are hard work, but vital. I need to read more. I need to find space for reflection again. I need to engage with thinking, creative thinking. But it’s hard. I’ve got out of the habit. I won’t get the benefit of the gym if I don’t put in the work, if I’m not prepared to have moments like I did today in the gym - of feeling exhausted because I’d exercised my body well. And as I sit here in my chair, contemplating whether I want to get up and move, or rather whether I can, in fact, get up and move, I’m wondering if the same might be true of you: that there are some things you would do well to find again on your journey of faith.

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.