Eternal Echoes

pondering possessions, (the tyranny of stuff)

They’ve arrived, a big pile of boxes now wait in our garage to be filled with all our worldly goods to be moved from North Yorkshire to Blackpool. Over the last 15 years we have moved 7 times, this move will be the 8^th. Some of the moves have been short-term others longer, and certainly for the longer moves one thing stands out, we clear stuff out, we give away, sell and re-cycle stuff. Every time we vow that we will not collect so much stuff, and while I have to say that this time we’ve done reasonably well on that front there are additions, and some of them will inevitably be given away….

 

All of this has me pondering my relationship with stuff, when Tim and I first married we had very little, our coffee table was a cardboard box with a chess board on top and in the early months if people came to eat with us it was a case of bring your own cutlery! I can remember the pressures I felt, a sinking feeling of not being good enough brought on by various pressures from advertising to “well meaning” comments from friends and family.

 

That sense of being defined by what we had was deeply ingrained in me, this was partly a result of my upbringing where appearances were important and partly a bowing to the pressures I was surrounded with. The result of this was years of struggling to fit in and feeling unacceptable, even the church did not help for it had its own acceptable standards and demands. Like it or not most churches are middle class and exude demands if only subconsciously!

 

All of this pressure only added to my own sense of inadequacy and failure, this led to trying to keep up, which led to debt, which only deepened the sense of despair. It has taken me years, no decades to begin to break free of the vicious circle. Again and again I have returned to Jesus words:

 

Don't hoard treasure down here where it gets eaten by moths and corroded by rust or—worse!—stolen by burglars. Stockpile treasure in heaven, where it's safe from moth and rust and burglars. It's obvious, isn't it? The place where your treasure is, is the place you will most want to be, and end up being……

 

If you decide for God, living a life of God-worship, it follows that you don't fuss about what's on the table at mealtimes or whether the clothes in your closet are in fashion. There is far more to your life than the food you put in your stomach, more to your outer appearance than the clothes you hang on your body. Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to him than birds.

 

Has anyone by fussing in front of the mirror ever gotten taller by so much as an inch? All this time and money wasted on fashion—do you think it makes that much difference? Instead of looking at the fashions, walk out into the fields and look at the wildflowers. They never primp or shop, but have you ever seen colour and design quite like it? The ten best-dressed men and women in the country look shabby alongside them.

 

If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don't you think he'll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I'm trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God's giving. People who don't know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don't worry about missing out. You'll find all your everyday human concerns will be met. (Matthew 6)

 

Again and again I have failed to live free of worry, the demands upon my children, myself and my self esteem have caused me to crumble. The desire to fit in and not to be shunned is huge, and I am more and more convinced that as a Christian that I must seek to live in a radically counter-cultural way. I am not advocating a miserable ascetic existence, but rather a decision to live life to the full which means being freed from the demands and shackles of fashion and the desire to keep up with the Joneses, but for this I need friends, I need encouragement and support.

 

More and more I am convinced that the church needs to become again (or maybe in some cases for the first time) a community of radical hospitality where everyone and I mean everyone is accepted and welcomed! Maybe we should worry less about out shoes than our smiles when coming to worship! One of the Chapels I work with has recently opened a Christians Against Poverty Centre, CAP helps people struggling with debt, the folk who will be our clients have got there for a variety of reasons, and not a few because they have struggled with the same issues and demands as I have. We have had some discussions about whether we can afford to run such a centre but at Church Council it was decided that we could not afford not to. In our discussions we were challenged about the things we hold dear, and questioned as to whether we would be willing to sacrifice just a little so that many could be helped. The response was positive, and now the challenge to be the welcoming community of faith that accepts all lies ahead of us.

 

I say that this is a challenge because not too long ago I sat in another Church Council meeting (in a different church) and was told “you are reaching the wrong kind of people”, when an explanation was sought the response was “well they’ll never have much to put in the plate…”  I saw red then and that attitude makes me see red now!  If we are sharing the good news of God’s love for all then how dare we demand that people measure up to our standards, even subtly so! Again this has got me thinking, and while I am not opting for a vow of poverty I do believe that there is a definite call through the gospels to live a simpler life than Western culture demands, and I find the whole health, wealth and prosperity angle on the gospel particularly abhorrent ,even hints of it are unacceptable! I struggle with this because I hear it whispered through our attitudes, it may not be overt but it is there, blessing is equated over and over with financial gain and successes. Interestingly that makes Jesus the ultimate failure, and yet he has everything and holds everything in his hands…

 

So as I sort and clear I am aware that I need to begin again to practice what I preach, and I wonder…. do books have a category al of their own, are books “stuff”? Sadly I suspect they are….

 

 

 

awakening....

As I walked through Durham today my attention was not caught by the bridges or the Cathedral towering over the city, but by the new leaves unfurling on the trees, and the freshly washed verges, where spring flowers and shoots were beginning to show. For once I stopped and breathed for long enough to catch a glimpse of the presence of God coursing through creation, bringing fresh life to the earth. I was struck by the fact that every spring trees receive a new cloak of leaves, and though they might be similar to last years cloaks, they will not be the same...

A fore taste of the new earth to come: 

 ¹ I saw a new heaven and a new earth. The first heaven and the first earth were completely gone. There was no longer any sea.

 ² I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem. It was coming down out of heaven from God. It was prepared like a bride beautifully dressed for her husband.

 ³ I heard a loud voice from the throne. It said, "Now God makes his home with people. He will live with them. They will be his people. And God himself will be with them and be their God. ⁴ He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or sadness. There will be no more crying or pain. Things are no longer the way they used to be."

 ⁵ He who was sitting on the throne said, "I am making everything new!" 

(Revelation 21)

 

Picture: Best Spring Trees by Julie Haskell

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the year turns on

to spring,

and as the sap rises

the potential

of a new season

begins to unfurl

in paper thin leaves,

and blossoms pregnant

with promise,

life burgeons

everywhere,

called

to new birth

by a powerful

internal

awakening...

here Ruach's breath

is stirring

through creation

wooing her with warmth

and washing

her clean with

gentle rains...

if we are attentive,

she might refresh us too...

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thoughts on ministry, with a few pictures....

I am kind of fascinated by this picture that has been doing the rounds on Facebook over the last few days, it shows different perspectives on what pastors/ ministers do and is obviously somewhat tongue in cheek!

While I understand the last picture I really can't relate to the first one, partly because I really don't see myself in that way at all, I prefer these images:

 and   or

Today I led to services where we opened the word, drank coffee and shared communion! We sat around tables, prayed and sang (though only two hymns/songs), the discussion was on the inclusive Christ, both were very different, both were transformative for those involved!

of course there are lots of other images like this one of Tim's:

I could go on and on, but I see ministry as helping to create an opening, sharing with others, opening myself ,opening a door, openly sharing, opening God's word, and creating an opening through works, service and sacrament. I don't always get it right, but when I don't I hope to have the humility to say so and apologise.

This afternoon, with glue and glitter, tea and cake we gathered to hear the story of Zaccheus there were folk of all ages, from 70's to babies, families, singles, couples, all having fun and learning together...

As for my friends, some of them jokingly tell me I only work for a few hours one day each week, but they know that is nonsense! 

So may the door remain open, and may I encourage others to offer the same welcome we have received from Christ, no matter who they are....

 

More than anything I am encouraged today by someone saying, I have learnt such a lot from you because you are normal, approcahable and normal! 

Thinking about my spiritual journey ( a condensed version...)

This afternoon I spent some time with my District Chair Stephen Burgess, we were discussing my Testimony Service for Synod on the 7th May. As I prepare for this I find that I am looking back and considering the road that my faith has taken, and how I began to discern a call to ordained ministry.

Regular readers of this blog will not be surprised to be pointed to Christopher's story as a very real turning point for me, it was a turning point of trust and faith, the discovery of a God who loved me in-spite of myself, but my conscious journey of faith began before that, growing from my delight in a Primary School Hymn Book, to my desire not only to own a Bible  but to read it from cover to cover...

That said I had no idea what Christianity was all about, although I knew some of the "Jesus " stories to allow them to challenge or change was not even a thought on the far horizon.

My church experience began in Nottinghamshire at the age of 12, where I attended a local Pathfinders group, a move to Essex and a break from church for a few years until I became involved in helping at a local Cub Scout Pack and began to attend Parade Services, this led to a weekly attendance at a local village church, and a real desire to belong was kindled within me.

As a young (unmarried to start with) mother, I continued to attend church, and my first three children were all baptised. Tim was happy for this, and we began to attend special services as a family. All of my church experience so far was Anglican, although that had not crossed my mind at the time.

A move to a small costal village in Essex co-incided with Christopher's diagnosis, and the church family in the village, Anglican, Catholic and Congregational, stepped in to help out. This practical out-pouring of support had a very real effect upon me. As a family we began to attend the local Congregational Church, joined Bible Study Groups, and learnt to pray! 

A call to evangelism soon followed, and it was then that I encountered one of the great obstacles to being a woman and being called to ministry. It was OK in many folks eyes for me to be involved on a local level providing that I did not want to preach, or perish the thought get involved in mission activities that meant leaving our children in Tim's care for a week. I was told at one point that I was stealing my husbands ministry...

Even the mission group who welcomed me to join their teams, and even to take a leadership role had a this far no further policy, although many people in the organisation recognised my leadership gifts I could not be a team leader, it was against policy; and they could back it up with reasonable sounding theology- theology I now profoundly disagree with!

Next came a move to Texas, and an encounter with the Bible Belt... we attended a Baptist Church, way too big and too polished, and the womens ministry groups made my toes curl- sexism reigned! My task in life I was told was to support my husband and to look good... ( yes really), we left that church. Then came a free church, another large congregation where although participation was encouraged I met a similar problem, so many things were off limits to women. The poem below was written about my utter frustration at the confining attitudes I met within this particular congregation, and yes I really did hurl my Bible across the car-park!

Still in Texas and we joined an Episcopal Church, here the Pastor was an inspiration, he was a man of prayer and vision and in the short time we were members there I learnt so much about integrity and ministry.

Back to England and a move to Colchester, and back to an Anglican Church, again it was big, and although we became involved it was never a spiritual home. Soon we moved back to the village on the coast and re-joined the Congregational Church, we had changed a lot, but in many ways we were home, and it was from here that Tim and I were encouraged to take up a course of study in Evangelism and Mission, at the same time Tim had been made redundant twice within 3 years and with no work opening up for him in electronics we needed to look to something new. The course of study led me in an entirely different direction and into some very strange encounters...

A move to Methodist Circuit in , Norfolk, and the beginnings of a love hate love affair with Methodism. We were employed as Community Out-reach Workers,  it was wonderful, and it drove me crazy. The big choice came at Spring Harvest one year, we had taken a number of teenagers with us and had been working for the church for 3 years at this point. The choice was stark, candidate for ordained ministry or leave.... commit or walk away. This was not an ultimatum issued by the church, but a personal struggle.

I offered for Foundation Training and to my astonishment I was accepted, two years with ERMC training part time followed. I was challenged and stretched and grew. Back to the interview pannels, and Circuit, District and Connexion all said yes unanimously, two more years with ERMC and the chance to study for an M.A. which I thoroughly enjoyed...

Interestingly training with an eccumenical course really helped me to discover why Methodism was the place I now called home, both theologically with its' Arminian roots and its emphasis on prevenient grace, practically with its strong call to social justice and community and global involement and responsibility, and dare I say administratively with its emphasis on every member ministry and discipleship, Methodism made sense to me- and yes it still drives me crazy!

Through Methodism's emphasis on grace I was able to really grasp that the God who called me did not call me to be perfect before I could serve him, rather s/he called me to begin a work in and through me, to be open to transformation within as the Holy Spirit guided and equipped me, to be open to that guidance with the "pruning" and training that it might bring.

I was Stationed in the Snaith,  and Selby Circuit in September 2009, and all being well I will be Ordained on the 3rd July this year in Liverpool...

On a personal note my journey has been challenging, I grew up under the sound of the call to worship from a local Mosque in Malaysia rather than Englis Church Bells, though they did come later when my parents returend home to England with us and we lived for a while opposite the Parish Church in Deeping St James ( I have never been inside it!)...

I lived on a pig farm in Essex struggling to come to terms with my parents divorce, muddling love and sex in search for belonging I found that even here God was with me, as I married the father of my first child, he is the father of all the others also, and we have been married for almost 30 years now. In many ways we grew up with our children, having responsibility for them made us responsible and taught us to pray. Tim is currently training at Durham St John and is a Student Deacon in the Methodist Diaconal Order...

The poem below marked a turning point for me, a day when I threw my frustrations at a narrow confining theology across a church car park, and never looked back...

 

 

This Bible is worn and battered;

Like my faith is torn in places,

And like may faith it has been well used.

 

Every page has been read in this Bible,

Each word scanned and poured over

It was my companion through hard times.

 

But that did not stop me hurling the damn thing

Clean across the car park

In an outpouring of frustration!

 

My faith went with it that day

And everything changed;

For I no longer held to brittle man made rules

 

Rules that told me how to pray

How to give,

And how to behave.

 

Rules that gave rules to God

Telling him how to respond to his childrens cries

 

These words have taught me well that there is another way

A true way for those who have ears to hear

And eyes to see…

 

For God will not be bound by our rules

Nor will he always smooth the path before us

 

But he will walk it with us

And does,

Whether we choose to take his hand

Or refuse it and stride on alone!

 

My journey of faith will continue to be a pilgrimage, I have no doubt about that! And I still have that Bible...

 

Lessons....

This afternoon I attended the AGM at Ripon Sailing Club where Tim and I are members, I won't go into details about the meeting, but I do want to highlight some of the values and priorities that were expressed.

First, RSC is a place where people of all ages and all abilities are welcomed; there are age related events, but the young folk are encouraged to race with the adult fleets, and when this happens the more experienced sailors are usually very helpful to the less experienced. That does not always mean that the older folk help the younger... sometimes it works the other way around! It requires a certain amount of humility for a 49 yr old beginner to receive help from an 8 yr old!

Second, training is madeavailable at all levels, and people are encouraged to get involved, and valued for who they are...

Third, we were asked about our gifts and talents...

And lastly there was a sense of real celebration that the prizes for the year had not gone to the same old winners.

There is a lot the church can learn from groups like this- if we dared to have the humility to do so!

On Worship....

Words of wisdom from my eldest son:

"mum, some of the best worship times I've had are when things don't go quite as planned, you never know some of those compliments may have been true,and people may have got something out of it, maybe not quite what you intended but God has some funny ways sometimes..."

And posts from other bloggers such as Graham Peacock and Peter Banks along with questions raised here by my friend Helen about substance and depth in worship have got me thinking about the hour or so of time that some of us pour so much energy into every week. We call it worship, and I guess that that is what we turn up to do, hoping that others will join us and that what we have prepared will lift them and inspire them in some way, and hoping that somehow we have heard from God and that he is present with us in this time that we have dedicated and set apart....

I blogged yesterday about a service where I forgot some of the elements and feel that I waffled rather than facilitated, but I have to acknowledge that Paul is right, God uses our mess so many times, and Helen is right we need depth and substance more than we need perfection and empty though well produced ( sometimes) songs!

I can relate to Helen and Graham's experiences with worship songs, the feeling that there is somehow nothing in them or to them at times, and I have been there in the Spring Harvest Big Top struggling to understand what all the hype and excitement is about ( in fact we decided a few years ago not to go back). If I am honest I find that I worship best when I can loose myself in "wonder love and praise" and that may not be in church at all, it might be walking on a beach or climbing a hill, it might be watching a film when a phrase or a scene grabs me and transports me to another place, it might be listening to music; it often is.

I can clearly remember an amazing experience driving home from dropping my son Jon at Uni in Lancaster, traveling along the M62 in the dark, it was snowing and I was listening to the Bach Double, there was something about the dark and the snow combined with the music that made my car a holy place for a while. Other music/ driving experiences also stick in my mind; listening to the Killer "Human", and to Coldplay's "Fix You" have at other opened a window to worship...

Other times include sitting on the sea wall at Snettisham in Norfolk and watching the sun set over the Wash, listening to the birds and the sound of the waves on the shore, and recognising that the thing rising within me is worship and allowing that worship to flow ( yes if you were there I was the mad woman singing gibberish on the sea wall)...  and experiencing silence in a room filled with people who were all waiting on God during a retreat. Sometimes it can be as simple as catching a smile on someones face...

So I am left with the question of how to capture something of those moments and translate them into the hour or so a week that we set aside ( and yes I lead more than one act of worship each week). I think that expectation has huge amounts to do with this, but it should not be an expectation that we place upon ourselves but rather an expectant seeking for God, the trouble with our set aside hour is that it is simply that, and if we start to prepare we might find that we need to prepare to prepare and get ourselves into the same mess as my friend the Archdruid Eileen did with a whole raft of pre- and post worship gatherings.

The answer I think is simple, and it is not new, we should live lives of worship, our eating sleeping and walking around lives should be offered to God in the same way that we offer our Sunday mornings/ Wednesday evenings to him. We should allow ourselves to be touched by those unexpected Holy Moments and we should treasure them, and dare I say it talk about them...

There is much talk about the spiritual age that we live in, and an acknowledgment that we need to make connections somehow, I truly think that freeing ourselves from the hour time slot and owning our innate spirituality and humanity might just be the way forward....

Living in the liminaltiy of exile; opportunities and promises

My last two posts were poems written following the death of a much loved and faithful church member. They reflect my feelings surrounding her death, and the way that I see the church responding and reacting to it. I did not really know this dear lady personally but have witnessed the pain and loss that others have expressed and shown. As I wrote it occurred to me that it was not merely the loss of this dear soul that was being mourned, but also the loss of the way that things were, and the dawning realisation that they will not be that way again.

Mourning is a liminal space,where we live between the realities of how things were and how things are, unsure which way to step for a while, afraid that if we move all will be lost. Taking a step over the threshold towards the future can be daunting and not a little frightening. For those who find themselves unexpectedly living in a strange land the sense of disorientation can be doubly hard.

I believe that today, maybe particularly in rural Britain, many churches find themselves in this liminal space, and that they are being woken to the reality of their situation by circumstances such as the death of a much loved member, or the closure of a building, or any number of other circumstances that highlight the vulnerability they feel.

This is not a new reality for the people of God, Biblical accounts of faith surviving times of exile remind us that God does not leave us, they also remind us that sometimes he calls and places us way beyond our comfort zones...

I work amongst a group of rural churches in North Yorkshire, I believe that we are beginning to open our eyes upon a new cultural landscape and are finding that we are truly in a place of exile. But there are opportunities here, opportunities to seek God in a new way, to own our vulnerability and to move on from there...

In a recent reflection and presentationfor my own churches entitled "Where do we go from here?" I used these two images;

For me they capture a sense of helplessness and confusion that are often experienced by folk looking for the way ahead in an uncertain landscape. But we are not lost for God is with us, and as we begin to lift our eyes from the confusion he will lead us forward, and will unravel the paths beneath our feet...

We need to journey to a new place, and although I know it has been used before I think this image of Grommit laying new track because he has come to the end of the line speaks vividly and powerfully into our situation today.

We need to learn to listen to the God who drives us into the wilderness so that we need to rediscover his strength, to yearn to be filled by the Holy Spirit afresh, to be strengthened and equipped for the journey ahead, for we might just find that he desires to lead us away from exile, and put within our hearts echoes and longings for home!

Snow, Easter Eggs, and Ordinary Living

As the first week of this New Year comes to an end I am sitting at my desk looking out over a world that is blanketed in snow, it won't be new to anyone who lives in the U.K that the country has been subject to an unusual winter so far, lots of snow has fallen the temperatures are freeing, and more snow is forecast. Much of the country has come to an enforced halt as schools are closed and meetings are canceled. Motor ways are blocked and a community spirit has broken out at truck-stops and motorway service stations as stranded motorists get together to share stories and resources.

There is a bit of grumbling going around and mutterings about how we should be prepared for this kind of weather at this time of year, one of my colleagues was called to ask if she thought that the County Council were doing enough. Her response was that yes they were doing well in the circumstances, and she went on to point out that actually we all have a responsibility to one another. That we should look out for elderly or vulnerable neighbours!

It was really heartening to find that two young local boys had been doing just that, armed with shovels and a bag of sand they went to their elderly neighbours and offered to clear and grit their driveways for them. They weren't asking to be paid ( although they did receive a number of chocolate bars etc), they were simply offering to help!

More snow clearing took place in the Chapel Car Park yesterday as we prepared for a funeral, many of the men turned up, some taking time off work to clear the way for folk to access the steep car park and slope that leads to the Chapel doors. They had come to say goodbye to an elderly lady who had died just before Christmas, it was testament to her that so many folk came despite the terrible weather. One man had set off from Morcambe Bay and traveled across the Pennines to be there, his journey would normally have taken 2-3 hours, it took 6! The burial that followed the service was in a snowy and windswept cemetery, I think that I am still thawing out. I traveled with the undertakers to the cemetery and walked back home after the wake- walking 2 miles in the snow seemed preferable to driving, we are simply not equipped for it! Snow tires would be a waste of money, we simply have to bear with it...

Jo and I walked down to the village to buy milk and bread, and were somewhat amused and also horrified to find Easter Eggs for sale amongst displays of daffodils...

That got me thinking about the grip that constant consumption has upon us, Christmas sale items jostle for place with the Easter displays and one season merges into another as the wheel of consumption turns on... we move from feasting on mince pies to feasting on hot cross buns without a thought. But what is feasting if there is no fasting, and no ordinary settled time, can we really survive with our humanity intact when we remain on the treadmill of consumption? Will we loose the ability to celebrate if we insist that every day should be a party?

I wonder what we are hiding from? Is daily life such a drudge, or have we simply lost sight of the joy of daily living?

Perhaps we need this lesson from the snow, as it blankets the earth with white and highlights the incongruity of Easter Eggs in January! Perhaps we need to stop, to make soup, to get out for a walk, to shop for our neighbours, and to celebrate the ordinariness and wonder of daily living!

Time out from tinsel....

This morning  I as looked out across my garden it seemed that winter had arrived, bare branches reached skywards  where only a few months ago there were flowers and green shrubs. Now the leaves have fallen, and the bare branches of many of the shrubs have been pruned back.The scene in monochrome, even the vegetable beds that Tim has been working on so hard are waiting for the new season, the soil has been dug and the beds prepared but they are bare, open to the winter rains and frosts...

Yesterday I re-potted a couple of my orchids, even these indoor plants have entered into a time of waiting, their stalks have been pruned back, their colourful exotic flowers are gone for this year, and I have moved them to a place where they will receive just the right amount of warmth and light for the waiting time....

There seems to be little life in the garden, and the orchids look like dead sticks, but all is not what it seems, new life is simply waiting to burst forth when the time is right, but for now this bit of creation has entered into the waiting time.

In contrast to the quiet and stillness of my garden are  the local shops where even in the village Christmas has arrived with full force, adverts in the local Co-op tempt us not to wait until Christmas Day to begin feasting, while in a neighbouring village the lights have been on for weeks now. If I turn on the television I am bombarded with adverts, the radio offers the same constant feed of consumerism, preparation is all about consumption.

No wonder we are weary, we have lost the ability to truly rest, and have forsaken the wonder of waiting, replacing anticipation with headlong rush of activity adding stress to a season that sends bank accounts and relationships spiraling into disaster. How tragic that parents are judged not by the love, care and concern that they have for their children but by the size of the parcel they are able to provide. I speak to mothers who sacrifice bedtime stories and cuddles for part-time jobs simply in order to buy that latest toy for a child whose head has been filled desire for a toy that has been advertised solidly from September onwards. I speak to families stressed out by not being able to buy the approval of relatives and friends. I hear it from my own children as living on student loans they struggle to resist the perils of the season!

I want to stand in the centre of our towns and shopping centres with a big placard  that simply reads STOP! I wonder if I did, how many people would take the time to come and see just what I was up to, and why I wanted to break into the frenetic activity I find around me. I want to invite people to take time out from tinsel, and to give themselves a breathing space. In that space I pray that some form or perspective might begin to dawn...

I am aware that I am repeating myself. I have said so much of this before, and at the risk of sounding like a broken record I will continue to say it. We need to STOP! Advent is not about chocolate filled calenders it is a season of repentance and fasting just as Lent is, it is also a season of preparation, one that calls us not to look to the babe in the manger but rather to the risen Christ WHO WILL COME AGAIN. Last Sunday's gospel reading brought with it the challenge not to get caught up in dissipation and drunkenness but challenged us instead to look beyond the cares and desires of this world.

Do I struggle with all of this? Oh yes, I was brought up to believe that Christmas was all about presents and feasting. I feel guilty if I don't enter into the spirit of the season, but through my struggle I want to encounter the Spirit who made the season a cause for celebration, the Spirit who opened the virgins womb and made the incarnation a reality. That same Spirit is the one who brought life to the lifeless body of Jesus and raised the babe of Bethlehem restoring him to heavens glory. It is that Spirit, the Holy Spirit whose fire I want to fill my life in and through the coming celebrations, and because of that I need the season of Advent, not so that I can prepare through purchases filling my life with clutter. Rather I need to be emptied, I need time out from tinsel, for although it is particularly noticeable at Christmas time, glitter and tinsel beckon to us through out the year in one way or another.

So I am taking time out, to seek the one who calls to us; he sees that we are weary and burdened, and he invites us aside. He offers us rest, and if we chose the road to radical recovery, and long, no yearn to live a life free from consumerism's grip and look instead for contentment, he promises to walk with us and work with us.

We can choose to take permanent time out from tinsel, and in doing do we might just find that we really have something to celebrate!

The Risen Christ, by John Young

life....

I have spent the day preparing my two services for next Sunday- this is quite a miracle for me as I am not usually this far ahead of myself- but it is necessary this week as I am heading down to Essex on Wednesday morning form mum's funeral and because tomorrow is busy.

One of the services that I have been preparing is a Baptism for a little girl, so it seems that I will be dealing with both ends of life this week. I guess I could have asked for the weekend off and for someone else to take the Baptism but somehow it seems right to carry on. We can't postpone death and we can't postpone life either! Both are natural parts of our being...

I am pondering this as I re-visit the Baptismal promises from the Methodist Worship Book, not those made by the parents and God-parents, nor even those made by the Church family, but those made by God. The words:

"......for you Jesus Christ came into the world; for you he lived and showed God's love; for you he suffered death on the Cross; for you he triumphed over death, rising to newness of life; for you he prays at God's right hand: all this for you, before you could know anything of it. In your baptism, the word of Scripture is fulfilled: 'We love, because God first loved us."

ALL THIS FOR YOU..... Before you could know anything of it....

This promise always goes ahead of us in life, throughout our lives. God loves us first, not because of anything we have done but because it is God's nature to love us, and he continues to love us through all of the twists and turns, triumphs and failures of life. As I preached yesterday I was struck by the look of love that Jesus lavished on the Rich young man/ ruler ( Mark 10). He turned away, but Jesus did not stop loving him...

I am always filled with awe that no matter where I am on my journey of faith, be it up or down that Jesus still loves and prays for me....

ALL THIS FOR YOU..... ALL THIS FOR ME....

Image by He Qi