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.

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.