Nothing!

If ever you’ve tried to write a blog, one thing you’ll know is that you have to have something to say! I spend time thinking about what I’m going to write, and sometimes that can be quite challenging. I try to think back over the week just gone and look at what’s happened so I can reflect on it in my blog. Weeks that have a lot going on are great. There’s lots to reflect on. But some weeks are, well, weeks where noting really happens. Obviously things happen in every week. But not always things that make for an interesting blog (assuming that anything written in this blog counts as interesting). And I’ve had one of those weeks where nothing out of the ordinary happened. That’s not to say I haven’t been busy. I haven’t been in one evening this week, I’ve been out every one of them! And the days have been equally full. But it was the ordinary things that filled the time. The things I expect to find in any week. I like weeks when there’s a bit of something different. I like a bit of spontaneity. Weeks with some excitement or something different are great and they make me feel I’m doing something important. But that doesn’t mean that the weeks when nothing happens, aren’t also important. They are. Just in a different way. Perhaps I’m a child of my time. It seems to me that one expectation people today have is that life is always exciting. That there’s always something happening. Or should be. And if it’s not, then life is disappointing. But, mostly, life isn’t full with exciting things. Mostly, life is about doing what has to be done. Mostly…nothing happens! Maybe I’m wrong. I wonder too if we feel like this with our Christian life. Mostly we want to know that God is present and active. That he is awake and that he will intervene to make our life better. That we’ll be able to see where he is at work and we’ll know what he is doing. When I listen to people pray, that’s often what I hear them articulate. We ask God to be present in ways we can see, and ways we can recognise. But when I look at the Bible, it strikes me that most of the time, nothing happens. What the Bible records happens over an long period of time, some 1500 years! That’s a long time. A long time. When we read it, we tend to read it as if it all happened close together. But there are often long periods of time when, wait for it, nothing happens. Or so it seems! There’s a 400 year gap between the end of the Old Testament and the beginning of the New Testament! Am I saying God is doing nothing in these gaps? No, of course not. We just don’t what he is doing. And in those times, doing what they knew to be right became really important for those following God. And that’s still true. In those weeks when nothing happens, what’s really important is that keep doing what I know to be right, trusting that God is at work even when I don’t know what he is doing and can’t see what he is doing.

Voice

I’m in too many message groups to keep up with them all. It can be great way of keeping in touch with people and an effective way of communicating quickly, but I read so many messages I get lost in them. Too many voices! I had a really strange message on one of my group chats this last week. Really strange. I’m in a “Mum” chat with my brother and sister. We started it to keep in touch about our mum and to make sure we were all on the same page in what we were saying to her. And now we use it to keep in touch with each other, which we do sporadically. So far, so good. This week my sister put a short recording on the chat and asked me the question: who is the boy in the story? Weird. I listened to the recording, which was obviously quite old, and thought: I have no idea what this is about, or who this is, or even what her question means. So my reply was simply: “No idea.” She replied: “The boy in the story is you Ian!” What? What boy? Why is it me? This is…weird. And it stayed weird. It turns out that, unbeknown to me (and my brother it seems), there are reel to reel recordings of my dad speaking when he was a Vicar! Just so you get this, my dad died on the 1st July 1970, that’s 53 years ago! My mum evidently had some tapes (reel to reel) of him which she gave, at some point, to my sister. She apparently forgot she had them (weird), but has now found them and sent one recording to me and my brother on WhatsApp. So I’m listening to my dad, tell a story about me, and I had no idea whatsoever what was going on. Part of the problem was that I had no idea what my dad’s voice sounded like. In fact, when I heard the voice, I thought it was woman speaking (sorry dad). My dad grew up in Deptford and apparently when he went to theological college he had elocution lessons to make him sound…well…proper! The point though, is this: I didn’t recognise my dad’s voice. Why would I? I’d never heard it. I had no memory of what it sounded like. And, if I’m honest, it still doesn’t seem real. I’ve never heard God speak either as it turns out. Well, not an audible voice. And, it seems to me, that if we want to hear God speak, we have to learn to listen. We have to learn to hear him in the pages of the Bible. We have to learn to hear him speak through preachers (I’m really hoping that he does). We have to learn to hear him speak through nature. We have to learn to hear him speak in all the ways that God chooses to speak to his people. And, it can be hard work. And weird! But the more we recognise his voice, the more we’ll hear him speak. It may be, that over the coming months, as the recordings of my dad are put into digital format and I get to listen to more of my dad speaking, I’ll get to recognise his voice. And, maybe, after all these years, I’ll get to know him a little better.

Universal

Lisa and I got invited the Indian Orthodox Church last Sunday, to a service attended by their new bishop. It was an important service for them and it was a privilege for us to invited. We were invited because the Indian Orthodox Church meets at Green Fields Baptist Church. We had no real idea of what would happen, how long it would last, or what we might be expected to do, if anything. We knew there would be food afterwards because we were aske if we had any allergies! We rushed over the Green Fields after the service in West Green and arrived as the whole congregation was on the march! We watched them walk along the road from the church, cross the road and then walk back to the church on the other side of the road. They were, they told us, doing a symbolic walk around Crawley as a way for praying for Crawley! Which got me thinking…They have a different way of worshipping, a different liturgy, a different language, a different culture, a different expression of their faith, a different way of organising church, a different set of expectations on their congregation, but they have the same heart for God. We sat through their service, at the front and the only people with shoes on, listening to a language we couldn’t understand, watching people who in many ways we have nothing in common with, who have a different culture and understanding of the world, and yet who worship and serve the same God! It turns out they have many of the same challenges we do. They were extraordinarily welcoming, presented us with gifts and invited for a holiday in Kerala (God’s own country). I heard one scholar recently say that the most important word in the book of Romans, is “all”. Paul is writing a cosmic gospel: the Gospel that Jesus brings is for everyone. Everyone. That was new to the Jews who thought it was only for them. Jesus changes that. I wonder sometimes if we struggle with the very same truth. Not that we don’t say the Gospel is for everyone. We do. But I wonder how many barriers we put in the way of welcoming everyone: people who might be vey different to us, with a very different way of understanding God and very different ways of expressing their worship. it’s a challenging thought. But perhaps one we would do well to think about it.

Dad

Last week on Thursday I got home just before 10pm from the Life Group and Team Leader’s Banquet (having arrived at the church at 7.15am) to find a letter waiting for me. The writing on the envelope was hand writing I didn’t recognise and it was addressed to Rev. Ian Phillips c/o Crawley Baptist Church. That’s a worrying sign. Mostly when I get letters like that, it’s a letter about how upset someone is with something I said, or didn’t say, or did, or didn’t do. And I do get letters like that. From Christians. Not often, but I do get them. So it was with great reluctance that I opened the letter. As I began reading, the words seemed to confirm what I was thinking: “You may not remember us, but we remember you!” Oh great! Here we go. Someone I probably don’t remember who’s angry at me for something I won’t remember! But I read on. And I looked to the bottom of the letter to see who was writing. That’s when it all changed. I won’t use their names here, but I instantly recognised the names of the people writing to me. It turns out I knew them, or more accurately they knew me nearly 6o years ago when I was but a baby! They were in the church in Norwich in which my dad was the curate. I have no idea when I last saw them, but it must have been around 50 years ago when they came to visit my mum in Wimborne. I remember playing cards with them and having a right laugh. I think, although I may be wrong, they were in the youth group my dad led. As I read on, they had written to me because they have been watching the livestream services for the past year or so when unable to attend their own church through illness! I rushed to read the letter to Lisa, but hadn’t read it through and I suddenly hit a bit that made me stop. They wrote about how watching me on the live stream reminded them of my dad! I wasn’t ready for that. My dad died 53 years ago tomorrow (1st July 1970) at the age of 35. I never got the opportunity to know him. I don’t really remember anything about him. And there cannot be many people who would be able to tell me that the way I do things on a Sunday morning are like the way my dad would have done them. There are very few people who could say to me: “Ian, you are just like your dad!” When I told Meg and Zac about the letter, Zac asked: “Is that the first time you’ve every heard someone say that?” I think it was. I wrote them an email after the service on Sunday, having said hello to them at the beginning of the service, and in the reply I got this morning, they said that the way I spoke about how to pronounce Wymondham, was exactly the way my dad would have done it! This week I’ve been thinking about my dad more than I usually do and wondering about how I might be like him which, until now, I’ve never really done. I’m really grateful that someone wrote to me and told me about how I remind them of my dad. Which has got me thinking: about another “dad” I want to be like. And how lovely it would be if someone said that when watching me they could see a likeness to him. After all, isn’t that the reason Jesus came a lived in front of us? Not so much that he would get us into heaven, but that we would live like him and show his Father’s love in the way that we do that? I think so. Maybe it would be good to thank those people who have done that for us - lived in front of us in a way that has showed us what our heavenly father is like, who have their Father’s likeness.

Frightened

We had a good week with the family. We took them to Amberley and Arundel (to the castle) for a bit of English culture. And then we spent two days visiting London seeing all the famous pieces of English history! It was good, but full on. The good weather helped because we were able to be in the garden in the evenings and all day on their last day. Our cats, however thought differently! Gimli, normally very sociable and friendly, was not so present. The number of people and the noise put him off being around so much, although he likes his food so we saw him regularly. Floyd on the other hand, who is never seen when we have visitors, completely disappeared. So much so that we put out leaflets through our neighbours doors on Sunday asking if anyone had seen him. Floyd has his times and places where he will see us, but we hadn’t seen him for a few days and we had begun to wonder if something had happened to him. Then, on Monday evening, two days after the family had left, he crept into the living room through the open patio doors! It was relief to see him. But he still hasn’t been around much this week. He’s not sleeping under our bed, which was pretty much his home. He didn’t sit with me while I was doing my counselling sessions on Tuesday evening, a ritual that has been weekly for months! So he’s back, but not quite back. He’s been freaked, and he’s still not quite sure about being in the house. The family are long gone and not coming back (not for another twenty years maybe). He would be perfectly safe in the house. But he’s been freaked. And he’s not convinced. Yet. Which makes me think of parallels between me and God. And lots of other people and God. Sometimes I’m not convinced that God is safe. And, over the years, I’ve heard many people say the same thing. Not in those words of course. But they say the same thing. “What have I done to deserve this?” “I must have done something. God is discipling me.” Well…maybe. But mostly not. We have a warped view of God which gets us into this kind of thinking. And our understanding of the Bible doesn’t help us. We have convinced ourselves that we are far from God. Always. And simply because we are human. Tragedy is, that God thinks we are very good. Yes he does! He’s always thought that and he thinks that now. About you! That’s not say we don’t do stuff that draws us away from God. We do. But that’s on our side of the relationship. God is still for us. His relationship with us hasn’t changed. Ever. And we spend so much of our time thinking we can’t go back because we’re not good enough, or God will be cross with us or…I want to pick Floyd up and explain to him that he is safe in the house and the has nothing to fear. I want to tell him it’s fine. But he’s a cat, so I can’t! I wonder sometimes if God wants to do the same with us, to pick us up and tell us that we have nothing to fear and are perfectly safe with him. But we’re…stubborn. Maybe he wants to do that with you right now. Now there’s a lovely thought!

Family

We have family visiting from the USA next week. They haven’t been to England for twenty years. In fact, half of the family have never been to England before because they weren’t born the last time the others came! Those of you who have family a long way away will now the challenges of long distance families. You don’t get to spend much time with them. Unless of course you have lots of time and money. Which most families don’t. Keeping in touch with distant families has changed over the years with the advent of technology. And it’s cheaper than ever now if you use the correct form of communication. But it is still no substitute for being present with someone. It’s really hard to get to know someone when they are a long way away and you don’t see them often. Sure you can do all the things we can do these days with calls, video, pictures, live chats…but it’s not the same as being with a person. And one of the challenges we find is that it’s easy to drift in long distant relationships. It’s easy to be “out of sight out of mind”. Maybe you’re different, but you have to work really hard at keeping in touch. Busy life schedules, time differences and changing patterns all conspire against making it easy. However much we might want to keep in touch and up to date on all the family happenings, it becomes challenging. We miss stuff. We forget stuff. We can’t find a time to talk that works. And there’s so much in life that happens almost incidentally which, if we’re present, we see, but if we’re far away we don’t see, and by the time we catch up it’s gone and forgotten. We’ve moved on. No doubt during next week there’ll be lots of conversations along the lines of seeing each other again soon, doing this or that, going here or there, all with great intentions, but which will, in truth, never happen. Because distance doesn’t allow for that kind of relationship. And that’s often the way it is with God. Unless that’s just me. He is often far away, distant. At least that how it seems. When he’s close, it’s great. We talk and dream together. I feel his presence in ways it’s hard to describe. But, mostly, he’s not so close. A bit more distant. And then it becomes a drift. He’s not in my every moment thinking. Sometimes not in my daily thinking. I’m busy with other, important things. Mostly around church. And preparing things to say about him! Truth is, I sometimes find it hard to know what I think about him and to work out what he might be doing in the world. Recently I stumbled across a truth I’m really attracted to because it is changing the way I’m thinking about God. The first thing God says about his creation and of the people he created, is that they are very good (Gen. 1v31). I knew that because I’ve read that many times. But I hadn’t thought about, or grasped the importance of that statement. Because, as far as I can tell, nowhere in the rest of the Bible does that change. And the story of the rest of the Bible is God relentlessly sticking with the people he created. Sure Genesis chapter 3 is challenging as the freedom God gives to the people he loves allows them to move away from him. But God never goes anywhere. Ever. The wholes story of the Bible from creation to Revelation is the story of how God is always moving towards his people. The relationship God has with his people is steadfast, immovable. God is always for us. We, on the other hand seem to have lots of problems with God. I know I do. My relationship with him is patchy and often distant. Next week I want to show England off the my family. I want them to be impressed. I want them to be impressed with me and my home, the paces I go and the things I hold dear. They might be. But they might not be. It’s a delicate balance, family. It’s hard to love and be loved with all the challenges of distance and our own limitations. Because God looks at me and says I’m every good, I don’t need to try to impress him. He’s already impressed. And he is sticking with me, whatever happens. In everything. What I’m realising is that the more I can grasp and live in the truth of how the story of God begins, the more I can live in his great love. And as I enjoy being close to family next week, maybe I will see a little more of how God enjoys his relationship with me. Even when I am sometimes a little distant.

Grip

One of my presents for my birthday this year was golf lessons. I think my children took pity on me having listened too many times of my failings on the golf course! Truth is I know I’ve need some lessons for a while. I’d like to blame lockdown for my worsening golf, and whilst there may well be some truth to the belief that not playing at all for so long affected my swing, it’s certainly not the whole truth. Golf is a complex game. No, really it is. And someone once said the me: “Ian, if you want to get better at golf, you have to play three times a week!” I’ve never achieved that. And, post lockdowns, my golf was getting worse. The swing I’d tried so hard to perfect, was letting me down. I couldn’t figure it out. Shots I was once confident to make, I was missing. So…lessons. I’ve had one lesson. And changed one thing: my grip. John, my golf pro. took at look at my swing and simply said: “We just need to change that grip Ian. We need to make it a stronger grip.” To the uninitiated, that’s not a way of telling me to tighten my grip on the club. It’s much more technical than that. I won’t bore you with the mechanics, but, it works! For the first time in ages, I’ve hit the ball long and straight. Not every time. But it’s there. And with practice and patience and perseverance, I’ll be able to groove the new swing until it’s natural. At the moment it’s hard work. I have to check my grip on every shot. I’m learning a new swing. It feels different. And I don’t always get it right. But I can feel it when I do. And, there’s a parallel process going on in me that reminds me of changing my golf swing. There are some things about faith that I’ve held dear for a long time. I’m not sure if anyone told me them or taught me them, but I’ve held them dear for many, many years. But, I’ve been struggling with them. And they’ve become more uncomfortable as I’ve read and thought and reflected and wrestled. I’ve slowly realised that they don’t make sense to me anymore. And, harder than that, they don’t make sense of God anymore. However hard I try to make them so. Mostly, it’s come about because I’ve reflected and thought deeply about some of the things I’ve preached, about which I say I am convinced. It’s forced me to ask myself the question: “If I am convinced of that which I preach, what does that say about who God is? And what I really believe?” I haven’t gone looking for different ways of understanding these things, but as I’ve read and listened, I’ve found better ways of understanding them. And believe me, it’s a difficult and painful process. Like my golf swing, I’m still struggling and I don’t have it all sorted. But I’m in a much better place. With a much stronger grip (pun intended) on some really important parts of my faith. I didn’t want golf lessons because it meant I had to admit I needed help. But I’m really glad I’ve got them. I didn’t go out to wrestle with my faith, but I found myself in the middle of the wrestling, wondering where it would take me. To which the answer is, I’m not entirely sure. But I’m in a better place than I was. The journey is painful. And worth it. Because I’m discovering God is better than I thought and had believed for so long. Perhaps, sometimes, there comes a time when to wrestle with our faith, though slow and painful, is the best things we can do. I think so!

For you!

Sometimes it happens. Sometimes I speak and actually hear what I’m saying. Sometimes when I speak, I realise that what I’m saying to others is what I need to hear. That should probably happen more than it does, but I’m a flawed human being who is not always at his best. And this morning, as I was speaking, it struck me that I needed to hear what I was saying. I absolutely love the truth that God is “for” me. I’ve not always believed that this is true, but now I think I’m growing to believe it is true. It’s always been true for you. Just not quite so true for me. And, probably, you would say the same. Some truth is easier to believe for others than it is to believe for ourselves. But Paul says that “if God is for us, who can be against us?” (Roma. 8:31) The idea that God is “for” me is, transforming. I’m still being transformed. I’m still trying to get my head around what it really means. But I am choosing to believe it is a deep, deep truth. I don’t always act like it’s true and I sometimes struggle to believe that it’s true. But I choose to believe that it is true. Believing it, is, I think, slowly having an impact on the way I think, the way I behave, the way I work and the way I understand myself. Because if God is “for” me, I don’t have to impress him or worry that he’ll give up on me. But here’s what struck this morning as I was speaking: if God is “for” me, then he is for you. And everyone I meet. And I everyone I don’t meet. In fact, he is “for” everyone. God doesn’t hate anyone. Ever! He might be disappointed in me, or you, or anyone else for that matter. He might, (actually he will because we’re all fallen human beings) mourn over some of the things I do or say, the things you do or say, but he will still be “for” us. Always. And if God is “for” everyone, then that makes a difference to the way I see them. Doesn’t it? Well…maybe it would if I grasped the truth of it. So this morning it struck me that when I really struggle with someone, it might be a good thing to look at them and think: “God is for you!” Hmmm. I can already see myself finding that difficult. Especially with the people I don’t actually like. Or find it hard to get along with. Or who have a different theology to mine. Or who don’t like what I’ve written in this blog…But maybe it’s worth a try. Really worth a try. And maybe the more I grasp that God is “for” me, the more I will be able to live that out in front of others, and let them know that God is “for” them too! Maybe I should listen to myself more!

Patient

I was in the hospital doing my ward visits in my role as Chaplain. I stop and talk to anyone who wants to chat. Some do. Some don’t. Often I’m quite a disappointment. I don’t wear a dog collar like some of my colleagues, so there’s no give away that the Chaplain is approaching! And so some people think I’m the doctor. And everyone is waiting for the doctor. Some even think I’m the consultant (even the staff). So when they realise I’m not a doctor, but a Chaplain, they are disappointed! I assure them they really wouldn’t want me as their doctor. And then I ask them how they are. Some folks want to answer and some don’t. I get a pretty good idea fairly quickly if a patient wants to talk. But I’m not always right. Like the visit to a chap last week. At first he was evasive and shut down the conversation. Then he suddenly asked me about a footballer he’d heard me talking about to another patient. And suddenly we were away. He had an real interest in sport and we got chatting about all the things he’d done. Turns out he was good footballer, a coach, and a counsellor for people with sporting injuries. I took the opportunity to talk about my dodgy football knee and soon found myself being the one who was accepting the help! At one point I thought he was asking me to hop up onto his bed so he could take a look at knee and apply his particular form of treatment. Actually he didn’t do that (which was a relief as I was beginning to wonder what this might look like to others on the ward). But he did refer me to his counselling service and recommend a book about golf. I left with his card and some information as to where I could follow this up if I wanted to. And here’s the thing: I was supposed to be the one helping him! We are encouraged to be the ones who “give” believing it is better to give than to receive. But it can be much harder to be the ones who are receiving. And especially if it comes from someone we are trying to help. Perhaps part of humility is not to put ourselves above others so that we cannot receive from them, whoever they are. Perhaps God can speak through people who we have written off or judge to be more in need of help than we are. I walked away from that bedside wondering how many times I haven’t received a gift from God because I could see past my own need to give. Maybe sometimes I am the one who needs to receive. Even when it might come from a most unlikely place.

Cake

For the first time in about 50 years, I made a cake! I used to make cakes when I was at school. We had “Home Economics” lessons in those day and I was a pretty good at making a lemon cake, or an orange cake. I even entered them for competitions. I don’t think I ever won one, but that wasn’t the point. The point was making a cake. But I haven’t made a cake since those days. I have never watched Bake Off (if that’s the programme where people make cakes) or any other baking programme for that matter. I’ve been more than happy to allow others to exercise their baking gifts and be the one who eats it for them! I decided to make a cake for a birthday, for someone who thinks a Betty Croker cake (that’s a cake mix cake for the uninitiated) isn’t a proper cake. So I got my Mary Berry cake making instructions, the ingredients and my enthusiasm, and made a cake. It looked great when I took it out of the oven, but some time later when the two parts of the Victoria sponge had cooled, it looked a little different. Perhaps a little disappointing even! I applied the jam and cream as per the instructions and mused as to why my cake didn’t look like the one with the Mary Berry instructions. Perhaps I had been over generous with the jam and cream. Almost certainly! But then a cake with jam and cream dripping out of the middle has a certain allure about, or at least that’s what I like to think. Everyone was very kind and said it tasted good. And it did. And everyone loved that I’d taken the time to make a cake after a 50 year lay off. But…and here’s the rub, my perfectionist tendencies were disappointed that it wasn’t perfect. Whatever that means about a cake. Well, it didn’t look quite like the one in the picture for starters. Years ago I would have wanted to throw it away because it wasn’t perfect. But not this time. We enjoyed the cake and laughed at the jam and cream spilling from the middle. And here’s the the thing I’ve been reflecting on all week: a perfect cake was never the point of me making a cake. It wasn’t about the cake at all. It was about moving towards someone else. It was about recognising that a small action that I could take, might make a big difference to someone else. The fact that I’d chosen to make a was what was important. How the cake turned was almost irrelevant. How many times, I’ve wondered, have I been put off doing something because I’m worried it might not turn out “perfectly” when all that was really required was to move towards someone. The life of Jesus shows that God is always moving towards his imperfect creation. Which is good news for people like me, who sometimes start things that don’t turn out as we’d hoped. God moves towards me anyway.

Coronation

The grass is cut. The strimming is done. I even bought a new lawn mower, although that was because the gear box seized on the old one and had nothing to do with the coronation (sorry your majesty). We’ve bought our “Ale to the King!” We’ve invited our friends. We (that’s the royal we - excuse the pun) have cleaned the house. (To be fair, I was cutting the grass.) The food we ordered has been collected. The final preparations are under way. And tomorrow we’ll watch the coronation of King Charles III. And here’s the question I will ask my friends when they arrive tomorrow: how many people do you know who are attending the coronation in person? And the only reason I'll ask is because they won’t know anyone who is actually attending. They won’t know anyone who actually had an invitation to be in Westminster Abbey to witness the crowing of King Charles III. But, and here’s the point, I do! I really do know someone who will be there! And that, strangely makes me feel important. I will not be there. I didn’t get an invite. I’ll be watching the whole things on the TV, just like my friends. But I know someone who will be there. I told her she had to wear a huge hat so that I could spot her on the TV and point out to everyone watching with me, that I know her. I don’t think she’ll do that. My friend is important enough to be invited to the service, the coronation. Knowing her is the closet I get. When I next see her, I’ll want a long description of what the whole thing was like. I’ll want to know how close she got the the King. That’s as close as I’ll get. I probably won’t say the pledge of allegiance when invited to do so by the Archbishop of Canterbury. But I will be a good citizen of the Kingdom. And while I’m sitting at home tomorrow, supping my Ale to the King, scouring the TV coverage for a sighting of my friend, getting as close as I can to the King and the coronation, I will be thinking of another Kingdom of which I am a citizen. A Kingdom that, unlike the one on the TV is an everlasting Kingdom. And one where, unlike the one I’ll be watching from a distance, I’m absolutely important enough to have direct access to the King. A Kingdom in which, in fact, I am invited to spend time with the King and be part of the business of the King. And I’ll be wondering as I watch the ceremony of the crowning of the King, who’s really got the best seats in the house: is it those who have responded to the invitation of King Charles III, or is it those who have responded to the invitation of the King of Kings? I hope tomorrow is a great day for all those involved. But there is a day…

Baptism

Today I’m going to a baptism. It’s not in our church. I’m going to drive quite a way to attend a church I’ve never been to before and will probably never go to again. I’m going because I’ve been invited. I’m going because I’ve been invited by someone I know and who will be baptised. I’ve known this person for a few years. We volunteered together. My friend, as they have become, has been through some real challenges in life and especially in recent years. When we met we had some lovely conversations about life and how things turn out. We had some lovely conversations about how we might better help the people we were volunteering to help. And we did lots of things to try to make a difference. But one thing we didn’t really ever talk about was faith. It wasn’t that they didn’t know who I was or what I did. They absolutely did. But they never brought it up and neither did I. Over the years I’ve visited a few times and wondered how life will go for them. There are still many challenges because of illness and circumstances. Every now and again we’ll have text conversation and sometimes a brief telephone conversation simply to catch up and find out the latest news. And, if I’m completely honest, I never thought I’d ever go to their baptism. But today I will get in the car and drive for over an hour to do exactly that. I don’t know the story of how this has come about. I can make some guesses, but I don’t know. And…I don’t really need to know. I just have to turn up and take on my part as sponsor. I’m privileged that I’ve been invited and get to play a small part in their story. What excites me about today, is that God is obviously at work. And God is at work in ways that I never imagined he would be. In ways that I have no idea about, God is at work in the heart of my friend. I’d like to think that in some small way at least, something in our friendship has something to do with what is happening today. But that may not be true at all. God can work in ways that I have no idea about! And that is good news. Great news. I have just been reading the notes from the latest BU Council meeting where people were evidently reminded by one speaker to notice the new things God is doing in unexpected ways and places. Today has come to me as an unexpected delight. And I will love being present for this baptism, one I never expected to see. It is wonderful to see what God is doing in unexpected ways and places. And it serves to remind me of exactly that: God is at work in unexpected ways and in unexpected places. Today I get to have a front row seat! But I can hold onto this deep truth even when I see nothing. Because God is at work. Always.

Ear Pods

So I had another birthday. Not that that I wanted one. They just happen. Every year at the same time! Kind people gave me presents and one present was ear pods. Ear pods are earphones that don’t have a wire attached to them because they work on Bluetooth, a wireless network. They are latest way of listening to music or podcasts. All the young people have them. And older people who consider themselves cool! I didn’t have any until my birthday because I’m old fashioned. Actually, I didn’t see the need for them really. After all I have earphones that work perfectly well. I can still remember buying headphones when I was younger. I went all the way to Bournemouth to buy them because I wanted to get good ones and Wimborne didn’t sell good ones! And in those days you had to go to a shop to buy electronic goods like headphones! I still have them and they still work. But now I have ear pods! And I’ve used them. They’re great - don’t get tangled up in the wires. But here’s the thing: this morning I went to the gym but didn’t use my ear pods for one simple reason: they don’t work with my iPod Classic! They don’t work with my iPod Classic because my iPod Classic doesn’t have Bluetooth! It’s too old! So today I used my earphones with my iPod Classic. And guess what? It worked perfectly. Which got me thinking: some things that are old still work! I was in the gym a month or so ago and another guy saw my iPod Classic and commented on the fact I still had an iPod Classic (which for the uninitiated, is only about 10 years old). I said: “It still works.” To which he said, “And it will for years to come yet!” And that’s the point: it’s old but it still works. Like breathing! It’s been around for a long time, but it still works. Parts of the Christian faith are like that. We have some old doctrines that still work: we are greatly loved by God; we are saved by the Easter story. Demonstrating love, kindness and compassion to to others is still the best way to live. I’m completely convinced that there are really important old things, Christian doctrines, that still work. And we should go back to them if we want to live well, as people and in community. But now I have ear pods, a new thing. Which work with new things. And it’s made me wonder: are there some things too that need to change? I think the answer is yes. Some things already have: we no longer justify slavery, as we did at one time, from the Bible. In fact, we’re now apologising for ever thinking that was slavery had anything to do with truth. We’re slowly figuring out that colonialism hasn’t been good for most of the world, and that it isn’t an appropriate way of being today, even though for centuries it was justified by followers of Christ. We have work still to do there. And maybe there are other things that might need to change. Saying old things still work doesn’t mean we ignore everything that’s new. Theology has always been changing. Christian history is replete with discovering more about who God is and how we live in the light of that, and so is the Bible! I have ear pods and earphones and head phones! There is wisdom in using the old thing that still works. But there is also wisdom in using the new thing. Perhaps the wisdom I most need is the wisdom to know what to keep and hold onto, and what needs to change. And maybe that’s a challenge for us all.

Easter

I love Timberland boots and clothes. For years now I’ve had a pair of Timberland boots. When my old ones finally came to the end of their life, I bought another pair. I wear them a lot. So much so, that one of the laces wore out, so last week I went online to buy new laces. I went to the Timberland online store because I wanted Timberland laces and not something passed off as Timberland laces! Sad, but true! I ordered one pair of Timberland boot laces. I ordered nothing else. I’m sure you can all picture a pair of new bootlaces, wrapped in that little piece of paper that is holding them together. I hope so. The laces duly arrived a few days later in a lovely Timberland box. Impressive! But here’s the thing: one pair of boot laces came in a Timberland box that measured 20cm x 15cm x 14cm. I know it was that big because I measured in to write this blog! Did you get that? One pair of bootlaces came in a box that measure 20cm x 15 cm x 14cm! They were literally rattling around in the box. There was no padding, no bubble wrap, no tissue paper. Just one pair of bootlaces in a box that measured 20cm x 15 cm x 14cm! They could have come in a an ordinary envelope. A Jiffy bag. But no, they came in a huge box. Maybe Timberland are so proud of their brand that they want everyone to see to name on the box! I’m pleased to know that my laces are genuine Timberland laces, but a box that size for one pair of laces. Really? God could have made a far more dramatic Easter entrance. But he chose a King on a donkey. And nobody spotted it! Well, maybe some people did for a moment. But pretty soon they’d forgotten. And then a trial. And a beating. And a crucifixion. I’m sure he could have chosen a great bolt of lightening. He could simply have obliterated his enemies. He could have done something so dramatic that everyone would have know who he was and everyone would have bowed and worshipped him. Couldn’t he? Maybe. But he did something far more important. He chose the way of self-sacrificial love. He showed that at the centre of the universe is self-sacrificial love. The self giving of the Son of God. Because he loves us. Because he loves. Because he loves us. And maybe, mostly, we don’t notice. And when we do, we quickly forget. On the cross, he was mocked. Nobody noticed what was really going on. The world was being transformed by self-sacrificial love. That’s what was really going on. No impressive branding going on there! His resurrection was impressive! Nobody before or since has done that! And yet, still, we miss it. Or choose to ignore it. Or find a way round it, a way to explain it away. When I ordered Timberland boot laces, I wasn’t expecting them to come in a box that measured 20cm x 15 cm x 14cm. Maybe, we miss the truth of Easter, because we’re not quite expecting the God we find in the Easter story. Thing is, he wants to be found. That’s precisely why he came. So, maybe we would do well to let the truth of the Easter story speak to us. To let God meet us in his self-sacrificial love, the love without the branding, the love that reaches to you and me and invites us into the bigger and better story of God’s great and magnificent love. Happy Easter!

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.