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How can we explain this
mystery?
This eternal three,
yet one.
I look into the depths of
you,
and those depths
reveal yet more,
and
draw me
to my knees…
This mystery is more
than I can bear,
my heart and mind cannot
contain it, nor hold it.
The only truth I have
is that
I cannot comprehend
the vastness of you,
I cannot hold you
or control you,
I can only abandon myself
to you,
to your will,
to your ways
to your love…
Over recent months I have noticed a growing trend for the pubs where I live to begin to hold Psychic evenings. There are all led by the same group who have a large advertising board which is simply towed from place to place and set up. Apparently these evenings are very popular, some who go are serious seekers and want to get in touch with loved ones who have died, others see them as a bit of harmless fun, whilst the publicans usually see these events as useful money spinners.
There have been six evening events within a 5 mile radius of me over the last 4 months, I have been to one just to see what is going on, the evening was relaxed and there was an air of interest and inquiry. In a sense it reminds me of the Psychic Sisters at Selfridge's, and is an indicator of how acceptable all of this has become, schools hold psychic fairs as fund-raisers....
I blogged about the Psychic Sisters here, here, and here
So I am asking myself afresh:
What need is this meeting within folk?
What can/ should churches learn from this?
How should we be praying?
I have many thoughts on this as people who know me/ read my blog can probably guess, but first I'd like to hear your thoughts:
Has anyone else come across anything like this?
Have you considered how to respond?
Come
God come mother, and father, creator and sustainer, maker of all that is and
will be.
Come
and move among us
Come and bring us life
(A candle is lit)
Come
Jesus; come friend and Saviour, brother and Lord, sharer of our humanity,
bearer of our pain.
Come
and move among us
Come and bring us life
(A candle is lit)
Come
Holy Spirit, come counsellor, encourager, equipper and enlivener of our faith, our
strength and our guide.
Come
and move among us
Come and bring us life
(A candle is lit)
You are greater than our minds can fathom
Higher than our highest thoughts;
Grant
us this day a sense of your greatness
a
glimpse of your otherness and your nearness
an
awareness of your eternal purpose that spans creation, yet includes us here and
now
Great
and wonderful God
Come
and move among us
COME AND BRING US LIFE.
My Other life are a new band, they've been playing together for a few months now and have a number of gigs booked, they have spent some time recording, but these tracks are mostly Demos. The are:
James Clarke- Piano, Lead Vocals
Alex Main- Bass, Vocals
Tim
Andrews- Drums
Emma Coleman- Cello, Violin
James is the band leader and much of the writing with input from the others is his. Well worth a listen.
This week seems long, it has been mixed and very busy, from funerals to baptism visits, long conversations and events that have been both encouraging and discouraging. I find myself reminded that I cannot do this work in my own strength, reminded of my own inadequacies and failings, and of my own needs...
Perhaps that is why I found this reading so encouraging this evening, taken from The Message I will simply allow the words to speak for themselves:
Romans 5: Developing Patience
1-2By entering through faith into what God has always wanted to do for us—set us right with him, make us fit for him—we have it all together with God because of our Master Jesus. And that's not all: We throw open our doors to God and discover at the same moment that he has already thrown open his door to us. We find ourselves standing where we always hoped we might stand—out in the wide open spaces of God's grace and glory, standing tall and shouting our praise.3-5There's more to come: We continue to shout our praise even when we're hemmed in with troubles, because we know how troubles can develop passionate patience in us, and how that patience in turn forges the tempered steel of virtue, keeping us alert for whatever God will do next. In alert expectancy such as this, we're never left feeling shortchanged. Quite the contrary—we can't round up enough containers to hold everything God generously pours into our lives through the Holy Spirit!
6-8Christ arrives right on time to make this happen. He didn't, and doesn't, wait for us to get ready. He presented himself for this sacrificial death when we were far too weak and rebellious to do anything to get ourselves ready. And even if we hadn't been so weak, we wouldn't have known what to do anyway. We can understand someone dying for a person worth dying for, and we can understand how someone good and noble could inspire us to selfless sacrifice. But God put his love on the line for us by offering his Son in sacrificial death while we were of no use whatever to him.
9-11Now that we are set right with God by means of this sacrificial death, the consummate blood sacrifice, there is no longer a question of being at odds with God in any way. If, when we were at our worst, we were put on friendly terms with God by the sacrificial death of his Son, now that we're at our best, just think of how our lives will expand and deepen by means of his resurrection life! Now that we have actually received this amazing friendship with God, we are no longer content to simply say it in plodding prose. We sing and shout our praises to God through Jesus, the Messiah!
robbed of voice,
and power,
this untouching,
unseeing Christ,
is safe,
enthroned, (entombed)
in stone,
he recieves our worship,
and we unchanged,
and unchallenged
leave,
for we have done our duty...
We have done our duty... I am asking myself tonight how many churches this headless handless stone Christ represents, and I don't like the answer.
Thanks again to Dave Perry for the image and the thoughts.
...turn to the wind,
and let her caress you,
direct you,
refresh you...
turn, to
be empowered
and renewed,
do not fight her…
let her teach you her ways,
new possibilities,
within and
without,…
turn to the wind,
and let her speed you on,
lifting you above
the everyday vistas
to catch a fresh vision,
then rest in her power
as she blows away
the chaff,
and brings new life…
New dutch windmill
I am being grumpy and I know it, and I am struggling with the rights and wrongs of what has made me grumpy. I am aware that Jesus came bringing healing and wholeness to a broken world, but also that not everything was made perfect by his coming or even by his touch, people who were healed then had to get on with their lives, and adjusting to a new reality is not easy. But that is an aside, what is making me grumpy is the question of what an acceptable offering is to God, and how we as a church respond to the offerings that are brought.
Say an artist asked for display space, wanting to provide us an exhibition at no charge, and it was space that we could afford to give without any loss, but we were concerned that certain aspects of that artists work were not perfect, and might raise a few eyebrows and questions... do we deny or allow the offering...?
How do we engage, do we squash or encourage creativity...? What kind of creativity is acceptable to us, can't a singer express herself even if she sings off key, will we refuse to listen? Does God refuse to listen? And why are we so concerned about out image???
So often I come across success oriented perfection seeking attitudes rather than attitudes of grace and service, the question of how much money we will make returns again and again and we miss real opportunities for dialogue and healing...
As I write this I am thinking about Jean Vainer's book Becoming Human, and how his involvement with the brokenness of the world through the L'Arch communities brought him healing and he became more human as a result; why because he accepted the love and the offerings of the ones who we all too often call broken, and through them learned more about what it was to become whole.
Jesus touched the lepers, and accepted the prostitutes tears when others shunned them, this should challenge us and shake us from our comfort zones and tear us away from our complacency...
Is this acceptable? And if not, why not? Where is the line between acceptance and exploitation?
Young women entering the BBC's Missing Model Competition.
My
name is Herut, it means freedom or liberty, I think my parents named me with
hope, for I was born into a time of oppression, a time when the Romans held our
city and the religious rulers seemed so often to collude with them in an attempt
to keep the peace. I guess that is why Jesus and his followers were so
exciting, there was something free about them something almost wild, wild yet
gentle, and strong; Jesus was strong and confident. I was there as the
remarkable events unfolded, I saw him break bread and pour wine, I saw his
followers confusion at his words; but I wasn’t one of them at the start, you
see my father owned the room, and I was sent to clean it, to make sure they
were all comfortable, that they had everything they needed.
There was something about them, something that exuded hope even in the darkest times, that
is why following his death my father allowed them to stay in the room they’d
rented; they had stayed in our room much longer than we’d expected, usually Passover
pilgrims came and went, but this group had stayed much longer, in fact they’d
been with us for more than 50 days now. We felt for them at first, saw their
devastation at Jesus trial and crucifixion, heard their sobs and silences watched
that first Sabbath as hope left them, knowing we could do nothing to comfort
them.
Then
slowly things began to change, news started trickling back that death had not
held him, and like Lazarus, only a short time before him, he had left the tomb
empty for he was alive. But Jesus had called Lazarus out, and we had seen God’s
power at work in him, could it be that his Spirit was so strong, so powerful
that death didn’t stand a chance?
He
came to them on a number of occasions meeting them in the room, teaching them
dispelling their fears, he appeared and disappeared at will, even locked doors
were not a barrier to him. I watched as his disciples struggled with all that
was happening, though their despair was eased, their confusion continued, when
he was with them they were filled with joy, when he left questions were raised
and hope struggled with the enormity of it all.
One
day they returned to us quiet and thoughtful, as I waited on them I heard them
talk of Jesus returned to heaven, swallowed up in the clouds. He was gone, Jesus
was gone. They spoke of angels, and of his command to wait, to watch and to
pray, they encouraged one another with whispered promises of a gift to come
upon them, of power from heaven, of a Spirit who would be comforter, counsellor,
and guide; and so the waiting began.
They
prayed, morning, noon, and night they prayed, hardly pausing to eat, they
watched and waited, waited and waited, their prayer was sometimes fervent,
sometimes silent, sometimes they wept, and others they praised, hope rose and
fell in them like the tide…
Then
one day just after dawn, when hope was at its lowest ebb, when all their
waiting had seemed in vain, the Spirit came; tongues of fire danced above our
heads and the wind wrapped itself gently around us weaving its song into our
souls. Hope was reborn. As the desert drinks in rain and flowers at its touch
so our souls flowered that morning, and I was not excluded from the gift, all
those present were filled to overflowing with joy, and assurance and a power I
cannot begin to describe, strong but gentle…
At
first we were stunned into silence, collectively holding out breath which was
expelled all at once in an awe filled sigh. Then we began singing and praising,
laughing and shouting, tears were rolling down our cheeks and our hearts were
filled to bursting with love.
As
we sang we realised that we were all singing in different tongues, but strangely
we understood one another…
Then
stranger still, the doors to our room burst open as if the room itself were
praising, and we accepted the implicit invitation to go and to sing our praise
through the streets of the city. A crowd soon gathered of course, gathered to
see what this crazy group were doing….
Some
shook their heads and declared us drunk, and we were drunk, drunk with joy and
renewed hope…
Then
Peter stood and spoke, his voice commanded a silence, and as he continued he
exuded truth, real truth, and there was power in his words. He spoke of Jesus,
of his death and resurrection, of God’s plan come to pass, of the Spirit given
for all who would dare to change, and believe…
And they came, a trickle at first and then a torrent of people pouring through the streets to find Peter, to embrace life in a new way, they came some in tears, some in silent awe, some rejoicing….they came, and there was no end, no limit to the Spirit, and new life was given to all who would receive it…
As for me, I finally grew into my name, I was filled with hope, even when persecution came that hope did not abandon me, for there was always more to life than the eye could see and the mind could contain...
how
can we receive
this gift,
this
Spirit, Your Spirit,
who
is more
than
our minds
can
begin
to
comprehend?
…
do you really
set
your glory upon us?
…do
you really come as
life
flowing through us?
…‘though
I know your answer
is
always
YES,
I
am filled with questions
again…
…for
I am weak,
and
limited
until
you
make
me whole…
will
you come
and fill me again…
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My Other life are a new band, they've been playing together for a few months now and have a number of gigs booked, they have spent some time recording, but these tracks are mostly Demos. The are:
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