Noticing

At 7pm on Thursday evening we, Lisa, Meg, Zac and me, left for Heathrow airport to pick up Grandma. Grandma was on a plane for the USA which was due to land at 8.55pm at Terminal 2. We like to be there early. It wouldn’t be right to miss that moment when your loved one comes out of the tunnel, especially when you haven’t seen them for over a year. So we get there early. And we were there early. I also believe it’s not a proper trip to the airport unless you are there early enough to have a coffee! So, we went to get a coffee. And watched the arrivals board. “Baggage in hall” is our cue. We rush to the barriers. (Actually we saunter to the barriers. Please don’t tell Grandma). And then we wait, watching everyone who walks out of the tunnel. And there are lots of people. People of all shapes and sizes, of all cultures and nationalities, all with a variety of bags and cases. We all watch carefully because, secretly, we each want to be the one who says; “There she is!” So we waited. And waited. I posited that she’d forgotten to get off the plane! How could so many people come out of the tunnel but not Grandma? Then Lisa’s phone rang. “Hi…Claire?” (That’s Lisa’s sister who lives in Virginia.) “Wait…mom? Is that you? Yes, we’re here. Where are you?” It turns out Grandma was already in Terminal 2 waiting for us! She’d somehow managed to walk out of the tunnel, just like everyone else, while we were watching and all wanting to be the first to spot her, yet we hadn’t seen her! We’d missed her. We hadn’t noticed when she came out of the tunnel. How could that be? She thought we weren’t there to meet her. We had been waiting for ages! Sometimes we simply fail to notice! One night Jesus walked towards his disciples on the water. Jesus had been ministering to a crowd and had sent them on ahead to cross the lake in a boat. He saw them struggling against the wind and waves, so he walked towards them, on the water. Mark’s gospel records that he was about to pass them by (mark 6 v 47). Perhaps in those moments Jesus was giving them an opportunity to notice his presence. Walking to people in the storm is the kind of thing Jesus does. But his disciples didn’t notice. They saw someone walking on the water, but assumed it was a ghost and it terrified them. Perhaps they didn’t notice it was Jesus because they weren’t quite ready for the things Jesus did. And maybe that’s true for us too. Maybe it’s still true that Jesus comes to people in the storms. And maybe its also true that we still don’t notice his coming. We were about twenty feet away from Grandma in Heathrow Terminal 2, but we didn’t notice her presence. God is closer than the air we breathe. And yet, we can still miss his presence. Once we found Grandma, we had a lot of catching up to do. May be God is waiting for us to notice his presence. Maybe we have a lot of catching up to do.

32 and counting...

Today is my (our) thirty second wedding anniversary. I know I don’t look old enough! And yet, here I am writing a blog. It’s a very different day to the day of our wedding, that’s for sure. It was a cold, but sunny March day in 1991 and I remember it well. It changed my life. And I can honestly say I’m a better person for having met and married Lisa. We’ve been privileged to enjoy thirty two years together (and a few years before that while we figure out we wanted to get married). Not everyone gets that. My mum and dad didn’t. They had nine years together before dad died suddenly and unexpectedly at the age of thirty five. And I’m fully aware that not everyone gets married and that some marriages turn out not to be good. Today though, as I remember our wedding thirty two years ago, I realise that much has changed. The world is not the same as it was back then. And I am not the same person I was back then. That at least, is a good thing. A very good thing. I was young and full of enthusiasm for life and the future when I got married. I still like to think I’m young, but I see and understand life every differently now. I think that’s a good thing. And, I’m a different husband than I was on 23rd March 1991. If you asked Lisa to describe me in a few words she would say: “He’s my wonderful, difficult man!” (I know that’s true because we’ve talked about it and she told me.) I know I have some wonderful qualities (although I sometimes have to look really hard to find them). But I also know that I can be difficult. Sometimes very difficult. I’m hoping I’m less difficult now, but you’d have to ask Lisa about that! I do know though, that I’ve changed because I’ve spent thirty two years married to Lisa. Without wishing to get all sloppy, I also know that, in large part, I’ve changed because I’ve been with someone who if “for” me. And when you’re with someone who if “for” you it has a transformative effect. I can be lovely and attentive and fun and considerate, but I can also be selfish and rude and unreasonable and unkind. What I’ve learnt is that when someone is “for” you, love can win even when I am at my worst. And it has. I’ve been reading this week about the love that God has for us and how it’s reflected in the marriage relationship. The passion that we can find in marriage gives us, perhaps, a small inkling into what God thinks of us. GK Chesterton coined the phrase “The furious longing of God” by which he meant the passion that causes God to pursue us in love. It’s a powerful image. If I can love Lisa and she can love me, and if we can be married for thirty two years with all our highs and lows, how much more is God pursuing us in love? That’s quite a thought. I’m not sure we have any idea how much God loves. But I’m going to hold onto the thought of God pursuing me in love, when I’m wonderful and when I’m difficult. We’re going to celebrate our thirty second wedding anniversary by going to the New Forest. Maybe I would do well to think about how I could celebrate the truth that God’s love and mercy pursues me all the days of my life, until I dwell in the house of the Lord forever, in the love that never ends. And the truth that God is “for” me.

Poland

So…we’re going. To Poland. In the summer. To go on rollercoaster. Yes, more rollercoasters! I don’t think it’s a mid-life crisis thing. Actually, I know it’s not. We’re going because Zac loves rollercoasters and he invited us! Last year, at the last minute, we went to Belgium and Holland to go on rollercoaster with him because a trip he’d planned with his friends fell through. This time though, we’re the “in crowd”. We’re the chosen ones. We’re the “Oh yes, do you remember Goliath?” crowd. And…we want to go. Well, mostly we want to go. Last year’s rollercoasters were fantastic. Much to my surprise I really enjoyed them. Never been interested in them before and wasn’t too sure what I would think and whether I’d go on all of them. But I did. All of them. And more than once! In Poland though, it might be different. Last year, Goliath (and the name tells you it’s a big one) stands at 160ft tall. In Poland the tallest ride, Hyperion, is 260 feet tall! That’s really high. And, truth be told, I don’t have a great head for heights. So…I’m looking forward to it. I think! Zac assures me that the experience of riding on Hyperion will be amazing. I hope he’s right. But it’s not just Hyperion. There are lots more coasters (see I’m even into the lingo now)! And, the trip to Poland isn’t only about Rollercoasters. It turns out that the rollercoaster park is close to the Krakow Plaszow Nazi concentration camp of WWII. One day of the trip will be a visit to the camp and it will be different kind of rollercoaster experience. I’ve been to the Holocaust Museum in Jerusalem and it was harrowing. I expect a visit to Krakow Plaszow to be harrowing. Juxtaposed between the exhilaration of one kind of rollercoaster, will be the experience of humanity at it’s worst. And here’s the thing: both the trip itself and the contrast of activities and experiences are simply a reflection of the way life really is. I thought I was done with rollercoasters. I thought I’d done the biggest and the best. I thought I wouldn’t have to face another lift hill climb where all I can think about is how high I’m going! Now though, I’m going to do it all again. Only this time everything is bigger and faster. And in the middle of it will be an experience of a completely different sort, where I’ll wonder how what I witnessing could ever even have happened. Life is a mixture of experiences. We love to tell the story of Peter climbing out of the boat to walk towards Jesus on the water. Both amazing and frightening! But he didn’t do that just once. Not long after he’d made the worst mistake of his life, where had denied he ever knew Jesus, the resurrected Jesus came to meet him on the beach for breakfast. And there, in the midst of Peter’s pain, Jesus asked Peter to follow him again. Only this time it would be harder because Jesus would be with in the same way as before. Peter thought he was done. Jesus had other ideas. That’s how it is when follow God. It’s a mixture of all that challenges us and exhilarates us. And just when we think we’re done, God turns and an invites us to follow him again. So, I’m going to Poland where the challenges will be bigger than last year, in more ways than one. Makes me wonder how I’d respond if God turned up one day soon and invited me to follow him in a new and challenging way.

Armour

It started as a normal Sunday. I attended the early morning prayer meeting, went straight to the church to get ready for the service, and delivered the talk. At the end of the service someone approached me, as sometimes happens, and I thought they’d come to talk to me about what I’d said in the talk. Turns out I was wrong. Very wrong. “Could we meet sometime on Tuesday?” I was asked. “I think that’s possible,” I replied. It turned out it wasn’t being asked to meet someone on Tuesday, but to go to Spurgeon’s College for the whole day to speak to ministerial students and lead them in a quiet day! That’s a whole lot different to meeting someone on Tuesday! In a panic I said I think that might be possible. Usually Tuesday is the day I put aside to write a talk, but, when it’s an All Age Service preparation is quite different. So I thought, I can probably do that. Until I remembered that I do my counselling work with St. Catherine’s Hospice between 5pm and 8pm on a Tuesday evening. But here’s the thing: my counselling work is all on the ‘phone or Zoom, so I can be anywhere with a phone signal and an internet connection. So I said, “Yes, I can do that if I can stay at Spurgeon’s to do my counselling work.” That was the easy bit. “So, what do you want me to do?” I asked. “Well, the Regional Minister, Team Leader, who was doing it but now has COVID so can’t, was going to talk about the four seasons of ministry from 1 Kings!” “OK,” I replied. I was sent the timetable and the outline of the talks (and their titles) so I could work out what I would say. And I went away to think about what had just happened. I had just agreed to go to Spurgeon’s College, to speak to students training for ministry, over four session of 40mins each and encourage them to reflect on what I had said. And I was to speak on something someone else had prepared. By the time I got home from the service, it dawned me that I had three hours to prepare four talks on something I knew nothing about! We’ve just started a new Life Group on a Sunday evening, and on Sunday, we were hosting and serving the meal around which we meet! And, on a Monday I’m at East Surrey hospital as a Chaplain. What had I done? This was a nightmare of my own making. Why didn’t I just say “NO!” I sat on the stairs and wondered how on earth I was going to do this day with the students. Perhaps it was a God thing, but as I was talking to Lisa about what I’d done, I remembered that I had gone to Malawi (even thought I didn’t want to do that either) and spoken to church leaders from the book of Joshua. And I had four talks I’d given already prepared. So maybe…I went back to the church and spent the afternoon looking through my notes and adding thoughts that might be helpful. On Tuesday morning I got up really early and drove to Spurgeon’s, getting there at 7am so I wasn’t stuck in traffic somewhere along the route, and delivered my talks during the day to the students, who all came to all four sessions (possibly because it was compulsory)! It was a lovely day for me, and from the feedback they gave me, a good day for them too! But the first thing I spoke about was the point of this blog: it struck me that me trying to do what the Regional Minister was going to do, was like David trying to fight Goliath in Saul’s armour (remember that story?) David’s gift was being a shepherd and five smooth stones and a sling were part of his skill set. Armour wasn’t. David did what he was good at, not what others decided for him. One of the students came to me at the end of the day and said, “You may have been third choice for today Ian,” (another Regional Minister had been asked too, but he couldn’t do the day either), “but you were God’s choice. This day has been really helpful. Thank you.” Wow! I was there wondering what possessed me to say yes, wondering if what I had to offer was going to be in any way relevant to the students, and yet, it seemed God was able to take what I had to offer and use it. But, I couldn’t have worm someone else’s armour. I could not have done what the Regional Minster was going to do. It simply would not have worked. To have confidence in who God has made me is really important. He isn’t going to ask me to be like someone else, or do what they would do. And he isn’t going to ask you to do that either! I had to take off someone else’s armour. And maybe you do too.

Pub.

I went to London last Friday. I love London. I love the oldness. I love the quirky buildings. I love the history. I love the hustle and bustle. I love Covent Garden. I used to buy ties there from Jane Ireland. She made really creative ties, some of which I wear on a Sunday! I love the fact that in tiny little shop in Covent Garden I was able to buy Sandalwood aftershave. There’s a story behind that which is too long for this blog, but if you want to know, please ask! We went to London to go the the pub. No, really I did. Not on my own. I went with some of the family. And we went to go to the pub! A few pubs actually. We went to the last remaining galleried pub in London. Built in 1676 it hosted Shakespeare’s plays and was visited by Charles Dickens when it was still a coffee house. It even appears in Dicken’s novel Little Dorrit. I love the fact that we can go to a place with such a history. A place where we know someone like Dickens went. It’s a great thing to be in the same place as someone you read about, or whose novel you can read. To think: he was here. Actually here. It brings history into a new light. At least it does for me. And I’ve been in other places like that. I’ve had the privilege of going to the Holy Land and standing on the beach where Jesus met Peter over a charcoal fire. That was the moment Jesus met Peter in his deepest pain and Jesus invited him to follow again. I’ve been to the Garden of Gethsemane. I’ve stood on the hillside where Jesus delivered what we call the Sermon on the Mount. I’ve crouched at the place where Jesus is believed to have been born. That one was quite funny actually. I went with Munir, a minister, who managed to move all of the Japanese tourists out of the way so I could have my moment at the birth place of the Son of God and have my picture taken! He was able to do that because he was wearing his dog collar and the staff knew him! I’ve walked up Mount Sinai to see the sunrise. I’ve been to some of the places we know about as Christians. I know that mostly, these locations are disputed. There are a couple of views about where the Biblical Mount Sinai is, and the other places too! The point though, is, like being in the pub that Dickens frequented, it makes the whole thing real. These are real places where real people stood. We can go and be in the places, as far as we are able to understand where they are, where the forebears of our faith went and stood. I don’t know about you, but sometimes for me the stories of the bible feel a long way away! But on Friday last week, I was reminded of just how real they are: real places, real people. We can’t all go to the Holy Land and stand in the places I’ve been able to stand. But perhaps we would do well to find ways to remind ourselves that the people and the places of the Bible story are real. God really did meet Moses up a mountain. God really did come to earth and was born as a baby. Jesus really did give the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus really did meet Peter on the beach in his deepest pain and ask him to follow again. And God really does want to meet with me. And you. Maybe, on reflection, I should go the pub more!

Putin

I, like many other people around the world I suspect, reflecting on President Putin’s most recent speech, wondered how he could claim what he said is true. He claimed that countries in the West and the US are culpable for the war un Ukraine, and the West of trying to make Ukraine anti-Russia. He stated that the intervention of the West is a “campaign of terror” and that Russian is using force to stop it. I find it hard to read and listen to. I’m sure many others do too. I find myself wondering how someone can say things which evidence suggests are untrue. Putin it seems believes his words. How does that happen? How is it possible to be so utterly convinced you are right when most of the rest of the world says you are wrong? Most if us, I think, would say we are not capable of such things. The war in Ukraine has had untold consequences. It has been devastating. Its effects will live long for the people and the nations. I will never have the power Putin does. But that doesn’t mean I will never be blind to what is really happening or how I really am. When God speaks to Israel through the prophet Hosea, he makes clear that they are deluded about how they are living. One commentator, writing about what God is saying about his people in Hosea chapters 6 and 7, says the tragedy of the those chapters is that Israel is blind to everything God is saying about them. They think they are living well. God tells them they are not. And I wonder if that could ever be true of me. Or of you. Could I ever be blind to what I’m really like? To how I am living? There have been times in my life when I’ve been confronted with the truth about me. And not once did I like it or accept it easily. But it turned out to be true. Nathan told the truth about David after he had killed Uriah because of his affair with Bathsheba. He didn’t like it and it took him time to accept it. We all need those around us who will tell us the truth about ourselves. And then we need the courage to listen. Perhaps the world would be a better place if more of us could do that.

Annual Report

It’s that time of year again and I don’t like it. I don’t like it because there’s something in me that rebels against having to do something because, quite simply, I’m told I have to. I know there are lots of things I don’t want to do that are good for me. But this one doesn’t count for that. I’m only doing it because I have to. And I don’t like that. Yes, you’ve guessed it, it’s Annual Report time! And I don’t like writing the Annual Report. It’s way too much typing and I’m not great at typing. I get all the right letters, just in the wrong order and I spend as much time correcting mistakes as I do trying to write anything. And then I can never actually remember what happened from one year to another. I love writing sermons because there’s a creative edge to it: where is this going? What am I, what is God trying to say? How can I best express this deep and profound truth? What might God want to do here? There’s an excitement to it. Not for me with the Annual Report. I feel I’ve got to “get it right” because someone I’ve never met, and will never meet, might actually read it to see what’s been happening in Crawley Baptist Church to make sure we’re not doing something we’re not supposed to. Mostly it’s about money! I mean, mostly it’s about making sure we’re using the money we’ve been given properly! Not that long ago the report was mostly accounts. But not anymore! I understand there are others who love Annual Reports and look at them as a great way to tell our story. That’s fine. I’m just not one of them. But here’s what I will concede: it’s a good thing from time to time to look back. Looking back tells us about the journey we’ve been on and are still on. I’m not the same person I was before the pandemic. I’m not the same person I was five or ten years ago. I’m not the same person I was was I began in ministry at CBC. And I say “Thank God” I’m not. But I only know that by looking back. I’m a different person, a different minister. I have different theology, which is a good thing because it means I’m learning. Someone once said the me: “Ian never let go in the darkness what God has taught you in the light.” Wise counsel. But I can only do that if I can look back to what I learnt in the darkness. When Jesus met two people on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24) he told them all that had happened through the life of Israel and the scriptures. He looked back. He looked back at what God had done to help them make sense of the death of Jesus. Actually, looing back over the last year in the life of CBC reminds me of what God has done. And that’s no bad thing. Maybe I should I should do it more. And maybe, so should you. Although, if anyone wants to write the Annual Report I’d be your friend for life!

Retreat

It’s a retreat. I’m not is respite, whatever is written on the Google calendar! I take myself away because it gives me time to think and reflect in a way I can’t in the business of life. Since I started as a Chaplain every Monday I have less flexibility in my week, and sometimes, trying to fit everything in gets challenging. And what gives is the time to read, reflect, think and hold the bigger picture. So I’m away as I write. And I’m in a familiar place. Well, I haven’t ever stayed in this particular place before, but I’m in the area I know well and the area I love. If I could afford it, I would choose to retire here. But that’s not going to happen. I’m pretty much where I grew up. It’s a place that has always been part of me. It’s a place of which I have good memories. And when I come here, I feel like I’m coming home. There’s something settling about it. I feel I belong. This is my place. This is a place I feel confident. So, when I need to find space to think and reflect, this is a good place to come. Yesterday I had a lovely phone call with someone I met in this place nearly forty years ago. He was the curate at the church I grew up in when I was at university. And he was the first person to speak with me about my dad (and I was in my early twenties). He also invited me to go to a Beach Mission where he was the leader. Turns out he has lot to answer for! But, over the years we lost touch (it’s not my forte, keeping in touch). But he has now retired and is looking to reconnect with some folk. And I’m one of them. So we chatted. And there’s so much to chat about. When we meet (we put a date in the diary to do just that) there’s lots I want to run past him. He knows me really well. He’s been a massive help in the past. He’s said things I have never forgotten. And I feel safe and confident with him. Bit like being in this place. And it’s got me thinking: maybe it’s good for us to have places we feel safe and confident, and people with whom we feel safe and confident. And maybe too it’s good to have “places” we can go to feel safe and confident in God. I don’t know about you, but there’s much that causes me to be anxious and fearful, both in the church and out of the church. And in the times I’m struggling, I need “places” I can go to find strength and comfort in God. It might a physical place where I feel close to God. It may a place I can worship. It may be a part of the Bible that speaks to me of God’s great and magnificent love. It may be a song. It may be a friend with whom I can share and who knows me well. But what I need from time to time is a “retreat” so I can be reminded of some very important things. I need space to reflect on what I know but have forgotten because life gets busy. Hosea reminds us that God has unbroken love for us. Sometimes, in our brokenness, we would do well to find a way to remember that God’s unbroken love is real, and waiting for us.

Vet

Today is the day we’ve been dreading. We always find it really difficult. In fact, we haven’t dome we realise for the past two years precisely because it’s too difficult. We’ve tried all sorts of thing to make it easier and, bottom line, none of them really work. But this year we had the ultimatum. We ‘phoned the vet to ask for the flea treatment for the cats and they wouldn’t give it to us because we hadn’t taken them in for their yearly check-up and injections. They said they weren’t legally allowed to give it to us! Legally allowed? What do you do? What do we do? The thing is you see, trying to get our cats into the cat box to take them to the vet is a nightmare. No, really it is. Mostly, we completely fail. We’ve tried locking the at flap so they’re trapped in the house. Didn’t work. They hid under the sideboard where we can’t get them. If we leave the cat flap unlocked, they just run wild until they get there. And then we don’t see them for two days. We have the cuts and bruises as proof of our efforts. But the vet said the couldn’t legally give us the flea treatment. So, today’s the day! I just had a break from writing this blog and saw Floyd in the kitchen. Nothing unusual about that, except about half an hour ago we managed to roll him up in a blanket and put him in the cat box ready to take to the vet! But…now he’s in the kitchen. Somehow he escaped from his cat box as if to say, “You ain’t taking me to the vet!” And now he’s gone. So he won’t go to the vet today. And that’s the problem. Mostly, we can’t catch them. And when we do, they escape! What is so frustrating is that we know what we’re trying to do is for their own good: to protect them from all sorts of things they might catch out there in the cat world. They don’t understand that, so they don’t want to get in a cat box and go to the vet. They will do anything they can to avoid it. We see a bigger picture. They see what’s in front of them. I wonder if, in the book of Hosea, a very similar thing is going on: God sees a bigger picture. We see only what’s in front of us. God says, “Come back, it’s better that way!” But we don’t like what God says and we don’t understand that he’s got our best interest at heart. The truth about God is that he always has our best interest at heart. And he’s always inviting us to come back to him. Mostly, I only see what’s in front of me. It may be I have something to learn about God from attempting to take the cats to the vet. Maybe you do too.

Volunteer

This afternoon I’m going to an awards ceremony. I’m going because I have been invited. I’ve been invited because I have now been a volunteer for five years. And evidently that’s enough to get me invited to the awards ceremony for volunteers. I have no idea what will happen, but it’s nice to be invited. I won’t be the only person there, there will be others, but I will be there too. I will be there because I have now been a volunteer counsellor with St. Catherine’s Hospice for five years. I love the work. I love the privilege of sitting with people in their loss and walking with them for a little of their journey. It actually costs me to be a volunteer counsellor. The counselling world is very demanding. I have to attend supervision every two weeks, which the Hospice provide, but I have to be a registered data controller, which costs me and I have to do thirty hours of professional development every year, most of which costs me. But today I am going to an awards ceremony. It’s nice to be noticed. Things is, I’ve been a volunteer pretty much my whole adult life. I’ve run after school clubs, been a volunteer swimming teacher, the chairman of the Easter Team, a school governor and Chair of Governors, been on a Scripture Union Beach Mission Team and become the team leader. There hasn’t been a time I can remember when I haven’t been a volunteer! And for most of the time I have been volunteering in more than one place at a time. And, for most of those things there has been no award ceremony. In fact, today will be the first time I have ever been to one! I’m sure it will be lovely. It will be nice to be noticed and thanked. Not that I need it. I’ll volunteer anyway. But I appreciate it. It’s got me thinking. I have tried to thank volunteers. Maybe I haven’t done enough. I haven’t ever put on an award ceremony. I have organised “posh” meals, with some form of entertainment as a way of saying “Thank You!” I hope that’s been helpful. While it’s not always been overtly Christian (my counselling work is not overtly Christian) I have volunteered because it is a way of living out the truth of what Paul talks about in his letter to the Corinthians: “Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labour in the Lord is not in vain.” (1 Cor. 15 v 58 NIV) Or, “…nothing you do for the Lord is ever useless.” (NLT) When we live in the truth of the Kingdom of the Heavens, and when we follow God as best we know how, he can use all that we offer. We may never see what God does with what we offer. There will be no award ceremony. But, we don’t serve in vain. It is not useless. And one day, one fine day, God will bring it all to fulfilment. And what a celebration that will be. I think I might carry on volunteering!

Boiler

I hope you had a lovely Christmas. Happy New Year! Our Christmas was a little different to the one we had anticipated. On Christmas Eve eve (that really is a thing), our boiler broke leaving us without heating or hot water. And, because everyone is on holiday over Christmas, it became two weeks without hearing or hot water! I could spend the rest of this blog bemoaning our misfortune. After all, no heating and not hot water for two weeks! But in truth, it’s a first world problem. Most of the world doesn’t ever have heating or hot water. And if they do, it is at best, intermittent. We have a daughter and son-in-law living a few minutes away with a lovely shower, so we visited them a little more often than we would have! We are members of the gym just round the corner, so sometimes we went there for our shower (after using the gym or the pool of course)! We have blankets and we borrowed heaters for the evenings. And, although we had to make alterative arrangements for the visit of my family (Meg and Justin hosted) and tell the folk coming round on Boxing Day to dress warm, it was at worst, inconvenient. We didn’t really suffer. And it got me thinking. Many people suffer in ways that I don’t often think about. It gave me cause to count my blessings. To recognise what I have, and not fuss about what I don’t have. I have to work hard at that. I’ve got used to the idea that I have a right to a certain standard of living. But, in truth, it is a gift. Everything I have is a gift. And I would well to remember that. And then I began to read Hosea. Hosea is a wonderful but challenging read. It begins with God asking Hosea to marry a prostitute (or at least a woman who is sexually promiscuous). He does so to symbolise the relationship of Israel and their God. But think about it for a minute: he asks a faithful prophet to marry a prostitute! Doesn’t that sound odd to you? And what if you had been Hosea? How would you respond the that call of God? I think I might have had some things to say to God, one being, “No!” But Hosea said “Yes” and married Gomer. That’s why we can read his prophecy today. It wasn’t convenient for Hosea to marry this kind of woman. Imagine the response he would have got from family and friends! It certainly wasn’t a call to an easy, convenient life. And that seems to be a thing in the Bible. I’m not sure I could point you to anyone who got called to an easy, convenient life by God. And yet, that’s what I want. I want to follow God, yes. But I’m not sure I really want an inconvenient life. Which leads me to wonder how much I really want to follow where God leads. I’m having to think about. Maybe you should too.

Christmas Letter

I haven’t done it for years now, but I went through a phase of writing a Christmas newsletter. I always liked to receive them, so I thought I should do one too. I don’t do it anymore, not since we lost all the addresses because we didn’t understand the “you’ll lose everything on the hard drive” when we changed our internet provider! I have a couple still to read this year. When my mum came to us for Christmas, she would always bring all the letters she had received for me to read. It was great to catch up on the news from people I hadn’t seen, people I knew years ago, people who had been friends of the family for a long time but with whom I had lost contact. It seems to me that God has written many letters to us. We call it the Bible. It’s full of what God has done and is doing. But I wonder: if he wrote to us this Christmas, what would he say? Maybe it would be something like this: “To my dear ones in the the places you are. I just wanted to write and to let you know that I’m thinking of you and remembering you this Christmas. It’s a long time now since that first Christmas with all the joy and wonder and all the pain. But, you know, every time I think of it, I remember just how good it was, how much it meant to me to do it for you. It makes my heart sing - the thought of my son being with you, doing life with you, so that we might get to know each other. I will never forget the look on the faces of the shepherds - I wish you could have seem them. It was priceless. Man , those angels gave them a fright! I had to send another angel to tell them not to be afraid. But the singing was amazing. And they soon cottoned on. It wasn’t long before they were running through the streets shouting about what they seen and heard. Wonderful! And the Magi. So proud of the Magi. That long, long journey. So proud they followed their hearts and stuck with it. If only more of you would do the same, you might find what they found. And it was all for you. The angels, the star, the singing, the manger, the swaddling clothes. It was all for you. John got it right when he said we’d come to dwell with you. We did. Or Jesus did! He absolutely did. And, more than anything, that’s what we want for you now: to dwell with you. We want you to know how much you are loved and that we are with you, in everything. Maybe, as you think about that first Christmas again this year, you will open your heart to me again. I would love to come in and dwell with you. I really would. Have a wonderful Christmas. It really is for you!” I wish you a very Happy and Peaceful Christmas, one where God comes to dwell with you.

Carol service

This year, for reasons known not to me, I have found myself involved in a organising number of carol services. Oh wait…maybe it’s because I said “Yes”! too often. Or maybe because I had an idea that gave me another one to organise! Anyway, there are lots in different places. And two are in hospital. Which is great. For one of those I’ve organised staff from the hospital to read. This week I sent them all the reading I wanted them to read and asked if they were happy to read it. One of them came back saying they were happy to read the part from the Bible (classic Christmas readings from Matthew and Luke), but the didn’t feel they could say “Thanks be to God” at the end. (That was a hangover from previous services which I didn’t organise!) The reason - they didn’t want to say something thy weren’t sure they believed! I love the honesty. I love that someone thought about it enough to wrestle with their own integrity. I love that someone would make themselves vulnerable in order to be honest. Which is what Christmas is all about isn’t it? A God who makes himself vulnerable because he is honest about what he believes. A God who makes himself vulnerable, who comes to the world as a tiny baby, because he believes that you are worth it. There is nothing more vulnerable than a baby. God was so sure of what he believed about people like you and me, that he took the risk, made himself vulnerable and…we have Christmas. And yet I for one, find it so, so hard to make myself vulnerable even for the smallest thing. I spend time with people who, in counselling, make themselves extraordinarily vulnerable to someone they have never met, and know nothing about. They want to be honest. And they are. And in their honesty, they become vulnerable. And, it seems to me, that in their honesty and vulnerability they begin the healing process. It is a safe place. The story of the God who makes himself vulnerable is the story that invites us to be vulnerable. The story that invites us to be honest about ourselves. The story that invites us to be vulnerable, to come and worship the child in a manger. The story that is the beginning of the healing process. The story that invites us to the one who is safe. I replied to the request not to say “Thanks be to God” by saying that was absolutely fine. I wanted to meet this person where they are. God wants to meet us where we are. That’s why he came to a manger, in Bethlehem, to a young virgin. It’s why shepherds and pagans were the first to be invited to see the baby. He wants to meet you, today, wherever you are. And, perhaps, the place he meets us, is in honesty and vulnerability. Thanks be to God!

Christmas Tree

So…tomorrow is the big day. Tomorrow is the day we buy the Christmas tree. It always works the same way. We go to the same place and follow the same ritual. It goes like this: we drive into the car park of the garden centre and park as close as we can to the trees. We wander into the forest of trees and then split up and go in search of the perfect tree. The perfect tree has to be exactly the right height so it fits in the stand but doesn’t quite touch the ceiling. It has to be full, but symmetrical. It can’t have any stray branches that stick out. It can’t have any gaps anywhere. It has to have a trunk that is straight, because otherwise it will never look straight when we get it home. And there’s nothing worse than a wonky tree! After hours of comparing one tree with another and weighing strengths and weaknesses, a tree is chosen. It is wrapped, put in the car and taken into the garden. There, the trunk is trimmed so that it fits into it stand. It is brought into the house, to the place prepared for it, where it is decorated (but only by one of us). The final act of the Christmas tree ritual is to put the angel on the top. That’s my job! Well…some of that is true, but not all of it. Thing is, there is no such thing as the perfect Christmas tree! There really isn’t. They are wonderful and beautiful, but never perfect. At least not in the sense of symmetry and straightness! They all have their little quirks. And that’s a relief, because tomorrow we don’t have to find the perfect tree! We’ll find a beautiful tree that will looks lovely and fills the room with a sense that Christmas is here, but it won’t be perfect. And perhaps that’s the true message of Christmas: that just as there’s no such thing as the perfect Christmas tree, there’s no such thing as a perfect me, or a perfect you, or a perfect anyone. And that is precisely the reason Christmas happens at all: because no-one is perfect. The baby in a manger came to seek and save the lost, not the perfect. Which is good news since none of us are perfect. Whatever tree we buy tomorrow, it will be decorated with love and care and become part of the family for a while, with all it’s imperfections. Through the baby in a manger, Christmas invites us to be part of God’s family. And the good news is, we will be loved and welcomed with all our imperfections. We don’t have to be perfect. We just have to be as we are. I think me and my tree will get on just fine, both wonderful and beautiful, but not perfect!

Silence

Well…I’ve been silent for a while No blog. No sharing of thoughts. No words of wisdom (if that’s what they are). Maybe you’ve been disappointed. Maybe you’ve been relieved (although if you have, I’m wondering why you’d be reading this blog). It’s been a time of silence. A silence from me at least. In a blog anyway. Because I’ve not been silent. Not silent at all. I’ve been speaking in church, in the hospital, over the ‘phone, in the coffee shop, on the street, in the gym to name just a few places. I’ve been writing talks, giving talks, counselling, visiting. listening, preparing, organising, emailing. I’ve been really busy actually. And, oddly, I’ve been silent because I’ve been busy. And, also, I’ve been silent because, in truth, I didn’t know what to say. Which has got me thinking. There are four hundred years between the end of the Old Testament and the beginning of the New Testament. Four hundred years between God speaking through the prophet Malachi and the coming of John the Baptist. Four hundred years. Four hundred years when God is silent. He doesn’t speak. At least not that we know about. Four hundred years when we don’t know what God is doing. Four hundred years when it appears God is doing nothing. Sometimes in life we realise that to speak any more will have no effect. When someone refuses to listen, to speak is pointless. Sometimes, when others refuse to hear what is being said, silence is the wisest choice. When I’m really stressed, or upset, or angry and I go on a bit of a rant about how things are, (and believe me, I sometimes do), I am not usually willing to listen to anything anyone might say to me at the time. Although it irritates me, the best thing for someone to do is to stay silent. And there comes a time when I am ready to listen. Perhaps God is silent for four hundred years because his people had consistently refused to listen to him when he spoke. Malachi seems to think so. Perhaps God recognised that his words would not be heard. So he chose silence. When I was silent, it didn’t mean I wasn’t doing anything. Actually, I was really busy with not enough head space to write a blog. God’s four hundred years of silence doesn’t mean he wasn’t doing anything. Actually, he was getting ready for something really important, which, after four hundred years, John the Baptist came to tell us: the saviour of the world is coming and coming very soon. Sometimes silence works to get us ready to listen. Perhaps Gods’ silence prepared the way for him to speak again, only this time through Jesus. The Word became flesh and did life with us! God speaks. And God speaks his great and magnificent love in the birth, life, death and resurrection of Jesus! Perhaps you have felt God’s silence. Perhaps you simply don’t want to listen. Perhaps, as we approach the time when we remember that after the silence, God speaks, (we call it Christmas) we, you, I, might be ready again to hear God speak. To hear him speak his words of love for you. After all, that’s the reason he speaks at all. And maybe the reason he sometimes leaves a silence: so that we are ready to hear his words of love.

Perspective

Well, my goodness a lot’s happened since I last wrote a blog. We went on a wonderful holiday to Skye where we walked in the mountains, watched eagles and sea eagles and tasted whisky! I’ve been to Seville and visited the largest Gothic cathedral in Europe, which is stunning, sat mesmerised as I’ve watched flamenco dancing and listened to trumpet and organ music performed in a beautiful church. In that time we’ve had two, or is it three, Prime Ministers, two chancellors, tax cuts and tax increases, resignations and promotions, leadership races and yet no voting! I don’t know about you, but I really am wondering what will happen next. It has been the most turbulent few weeks I think I can remember. I found it a little unnerving at times. And some things have been significantly affected. I heard of one young couple, earning decent salaries in professional jobs, whose rent went up by a staggering £400 a month because of the economic conditions caused by the Truss administration. They simply couldn’t afford to pay the increase, so she gave up her job and they’ve moved back in with his parents! Tragic. There is no doubt about it, times are tough. And confusing. It’s now more than ever that the words of Psalm 121 seem to me to offer something so important we dare not let go of. They offer us: perspective. The writer asks: where does my help come from? At times like the one we’re in we may ask the same question. We look around and what we see can be frightening. Perhaps we feel there is no help out there. It can feel overwhelming. The writer answers his own question: My help comes from the Lord. And not only the Lord, but the Lord who is the maker of heaven and earth. His help comes from the creator of the universe. His help comes from the mighty God, the powerful and majestic God who sits enthroned in the heavens. His help comes from the one who redeemed his people. His help comes from the God who loves his people and never lets them go. His help comes from the God who leads and guides and rescues and saves his people. Hs help comes from the God who sticks around. HIs help comes from the same God who we love and serve. His God is our God. And the God he turns to for his help, is the one we turn to in times like the one we now face. And in times like the one we now face, perspective is really, really important. Psalm 121 invites us to remember who is with us and for us and who will never let us go. I need to do that right now. And maybe you do too. I need perspective. And maybe you do too.

Holiday

Tomorrow I go on holiday. Can’t wait. Seems like a long time since the last one (always does, doesn’t it?). We’re going back to Skye because we loved it so much last year and want to explore more of it. I’m hoping it rains! And I’m hoping it will be cold. No, seriously I am. I was given a nice new coat for Christmas that is made especially for this kind of terrain and climate, and I want to try it out in the proper conditions. It claims to be fully waterproof and it has a fleece lining and I want to prove it’s both warm and waterproof. Sad but true. I want to play golf too, so I don’t want it to be raining all the time! And we want to walk in the mountains because it is just so magnificently beautiful. I love being out in the wild, in the mountains, in the weather. I might even see some sea eagles which would be wonderful too! I’m taking my binoculars (which I usually manage to forget) so I’ve got the best chance of seeing them. But, most of all, a holiday is a break. A break from the pressure of the weekly tasks, expectations and challenges. And we all need a break. We really do. We don’t have to go to Skye to do that (I realise the privilege of being able to though), but we all need to find ways of stopping, resting, catching our breath, finding space to think and reflect. There are lots of different ways we can say it, but we need to have times when the mind and body can rest. Even Jesus did that. He had times when he withdrew to a quiet place. Mostly the crowds tried to follow him, but he knew the importance of getting away from the hubbub and the demands and the pressure and the expectations they put on him. And if Jesus needed to do that, then it seems to me that it’s good for us too. Jesus did it to get away from the demands of the people, but also to get time with his Father. Perhaps it’s true to say that Jesus needed times to re-focus, to be able to reflect on what he held to be the most important things, not just the ones that demanded his attention. Perhaps he needed to re-centre, get some perspective, remind himself of the purpose for which he came. And maybe we do too. I certainly do. I’ve been wrestling with life and faith and church and chaplaincy and counselling, and sometimes I simply get lost in it all. I spend lots of time trying to work things out, get the balance right, think ahead, plan, deliver…and sometimes I lose sight of the very thing I claim is most important. So, what I’m hoping is that, in the beauty of the mountains, in the cold and the rain (and the sun), on the golf course, while reading and painting, I can find a way to let God in. That’s been really hard lately. But I’m hoping, that if I give it my attention in ways that have got lost in the business of doing, I might find solace and refreshment. I have to do my bit and give God room to move, but I’m convinced he’s ready to do his bit simply because he wants nothing more than to meet me where I am. And he wants to meet with you too. Turns out His Father always turned out when Jesus took time out!

Death of a Queen

It’s amazing what can change in a week. Last week I was reflecting on the fact we had a new Prime Minister. We seem to have had a lot of Prime Minsters recently. Then, on Thursday afternoon, quite suddenly and mostly unexpectedly, Queen Elizabeth II, our Queen, died. In one way we all knew it was coming: she was, after all, 96 years old. But, I think, as a nation and individuals, we weren’t quite ready or expecting it to happen. But, it seems, that’s the way with death: we all know it’s coming, but it always takes us by surprise. Tributes have been pouring in about the life of the Queen. Despite the growing sense that a heredity monarchy is a little outdated, the Queen was greatly loved. The proof of that is the 3 mile queue to view her coffin as she lies in state in London, and the similar queues in Scotland when her coffin was there. And the stories of ordinary people who want to talk about how they met her, or knew her, or watched her, or followed her. Simply from the point of view of longevity, her reign was remarkable: 70 years, 7 months and 1 day! Her life was a third the length of the life of the nation of the USA and her reign a quarter on the length of the life of the USA! The first Prime Minister of her reign was Winston Churchill who was born in 1874. The 15th and last Prime Minister of her reign was Lizz Truss, who was born 101 years after Churchill in 1975. It is, simply, extraordinary. And I don’t have time in a blog like this, to talk about all the things she accomplished through her reign. Somehow, in a fast-changing world, with a changing view of monarchy and power and equality, a world in which we are re-interpreting history and challenging long held values and views of nationhood, her majesty, The Queen, managed to live with grace, compassion, kindness and a deep, deep sense of loyalty and commitment to her calling, which for her, was a God-given calling. I have been touched by outpouring of love and emotion, not only to the Queen, but to our new King, Charles III. And I don’t wish to take anything away from these things. I will be watching the funeral on Monday like you all will. What I wonder about though is how it seems we value some live above others. I know the Queen lived faithfully, loyally and with a deep sense of duty to her role as Queen and she did many remarkable things. And to celebrate her life and to mourn her in her death is absolutely appropriate. I wonder though about other lives, the lives of those who never had privilege, or opportunity, who never had the chance to make a difference, who lived in a war-torn nation and died prematurely through no fault of their own. I could go on, but you get the point: the many, many, many lives that will never be celebrated of even remembered. What about them? Queen Elizabeth II believed that she would one day hear the words: “Well done good and faithful servant. Enter the joy of the LORD.” Could it be that God will welcome others in the same way, whether their life was ever known or celebrated while they lived or when they died? I hope so. I think so. Because God is simply better than we are. And I have a sneaking suspicion that Queen Eliazbeth II would think so too.

Prime Minister

So…we have a new Prime Minster. Not that we voted for her. At least I didn’t. I might have this wrong, but I’m sure I read that the way the voting system worked only 1% of the voting population of the country actually got to vote in this particular election! Wish it could be the same in church - I wouldn’t have to worry about attendance at Body Talk anymore. What I don’t understand is why anyone would want to be Prime Minister. Especially at this time. It seems to me it’s a no win. But then I’m not Liz Truss. The question I find myself asking is: will anything really change with a new Prime Minster? Or am I just being pessimistic? How much can a leader, a Prime Minister actually do? There are systems that have far more power than an individual. And lots of other people and institutions standing in the way of change. The opposition are already telling us how bad her leadership is, and we haven’t yet really heard anything from her. And sadly, the opposition will never find it in their hearts to say anything she does is good. They simply won’t. Think it might be called pride! Thing is, if we pin our hopes on a new leader, we’ll only be disappointed. I’m not saying Liz Truss won’t do anything good or effect any kind of change. But ultimately, she doesn’t have to solution to the problem. I think one of the saddest chapters in the Bible is 1 Samuel chapter 8. Go read it. It comes after the people of Israel argue with God and demand a king of their own. They want to be like every other nation, and every other nation has a king. God tells them they already have a king because he is their king. The people though want a king like everyone else. God tells them what life will be like if they have a king. He tells them it won’t go well. Like for every other nation! But the people insist. And, remarkably, God gives in and let’s Israel choose a king. They choose Saul because he is tall and handsome. No, seriously, they do. It’s not a good choice and not a good start. And the rest really is history. At the end of 1 Samuel chapter, God tells Samuel to send the people back to their towns. They haven’t listened to God, and God understands the future they have chosen. It’s as if God says: “Ok, have it your way. But this will not go well. And the tragedy is, it doesn’t have to be this way.” The truth about Prime Ministers is they are not God, even if most of the time they act as if they are! No political system, however good and honest and truthful and caring, has the answer. The answer lies with a different King in a different Kingdom. We can live in the truth of his Kingdom and work to bring it to others here and now, whatever our Prime Minster chooses to do. We can do that. Every day. So…let’s choose the way of the real King.

Fixed!

I really enjoyed being part of the Kintsugi Hope course over the past three months. If you’re unfamiliar with the Kintsugi Hope course it’s based on the Japanese art of putting a broken pot back together. Using gold or silver to join the broken parts, a restored pot becomes something of unique beauty. It’s a powerful symbol that even when life breaks us, we can be beautifully unique. In fact, it’s better than that. It’s powerful symbol that in the eyes of a loving God, that’s exactly what we are. The course explores some issues that we can all struggle with (and probably do even if we don’t admit or are simply unaware of it), issues like honesty, shame, self-acceptance, resilience. Over the course we had the opportunity to talk about these things. As the weeks went by we felt more confident in the group to share what was really going for us, what we really found difficult. It was a place we could talk openly and honestly. The beauty of the course is simply that it gives a space to do that: to talk openly and honestly about important issues that affect how we are, how we see ourselves and affect how we live. What this course doesn’t do is to fix us. It seems that many people who call themselves Christians, feel they have to be perfect! No, it’s true. It really is true. It’s certainly true to the degree that we often find it hard to be honest with others and ourselves because if we tell others what’s really going on, we’ll be judged as a failure, or at least not a very good Christian. We like to tell a version of the Christin life in which things get fixed. How many testimonies have you heard where life was at one time all bad, then God turned up and it’s all great now! Most testimonies I’ve heard tell that kind of story. Trouble is, most of us live different lives to that kind of life. And, it seems to me there’s a version of Christianity spoken in which we believe that if God really is present with us, there won’t be any challenges. I think this kind of belief does a great disservice to everyone and is not a good way to understand how life with God actually is. Actually, I think it’s just plain wrong. Not everything gets fixed. Even for Christians. There are challenges, struggles and issues that we will wrestle with maybe for our whole lives. And we would do well to recognise that and to talk about it with others. I’m not saying that nothing ever changes. It can and it does. I’m not saying that God never intervenes and helps us, sometime in miraculous ways. He does. But I am saying that to pretend we don’t wrestle with big stuff a lot of the time, sometimes for life, to pretend we have to be perfect, or even vaguely close to perfect, is not a good way to live and is not a Christian way to live. If we were to take a look at the people who appear in the stories in the Bible, we would see very quickly they were all fallen, flawed human beings who made mistakes and never really got fixed! But they were also people used by God who had a beauty and uniqueness in his eyes. I think the big takeaway from Kintsugi Hope is that it’s ok not to be ok. That we are beautifully unique in our brokenness and that God loves us anyway. That we don’t need to be fixed and some things won’t be fixed. But that if we are honest with ourselves and can find it in ourselves to be honest with others and to walk with them, then we might find we are changed along the way.