How might God speak?

Communication- sight, sound, touch. We learn through experience and effort, through resting and remembering. When I see the crocus peeking through the grass, how does my soul respond? Two short quotes to consider:

Sacred writings are bound in two volumes—that of creation and that of Holy Scripture. —Thomas Aquinas (1224–1274)

Ever since God created the world, God’s everlasting power and deity—however invisible—have been there for the mind to see in the things God has made. —Romans 1:20

Today- look out for something that will speak to you of God and His love. The one who seeks, will find.

Mischief!

Reading “Alice in Wonderland” is an exercise in exploring the strange imagination of the author – and recognising people you know in the characters. Our local park has this wood-carving of the Queen of Hearts that caught my eye and made me chuckle at memories of the book. It is very strange tale.

It made me wonder how comfortable we are with whom we are. Looking in mirrors, real or metaphorical, can make us aware of things we’d rather change. That might be our physical appearance, or a flaw or quirk in our character.Most of us would like to change something.

A good friend paid me a compliment this week. David attended a very good regional retreat/conference down in Cornwall, and emailed to say I’d been missed. (I left the south-west several years ago, so am no longer eligible for that conference.)

David even suggested my sending a video would have been good- naturally, I probed to find out what exactly he meant. That’s when he paid me what I took to be a compliment. Had the missing ingredient from the conference had been my sparkling wit (no)… or amazing musical talent (er, still no)… or my deep psychological insights and deep spiritual maturity. (Sadly, NO.) Without me…

There was not enough MISCHIEF.

Mischief! Some of you may be shocked to think that ministers (or even Christians in general) might ever be mischievous.

Is it my fault that I was put in charge of handling the visual projection facilities for several years? Is it my fault I have a warped sense of humour and a large collection of jokes, video clips, and the like? I suppose it might be inferred that I took advantage of such opportunities as came my way…

Humour has sometimes got me into a bit of bother. Or other people into a sticky spot. It also made others relax, laugh, and shed some stress.

I am quite comfortable with humour, mischief, and laughing. There is a time and a place, of course, but hey-ho. It’s funny!

A few years back I had a deeply significant experience in a prayer/encouragement meeting. The conference leader was praying over individuals round the room. To be honest, I didn’t expect much (he didn’t know me at all) but when he stopped in front of me, John began chuckling. Oops, I thought… what on earth… Then John said “I sense the Lord is telling me you are a joker- and that your humour is a special gift. Use it wisely.”

We’d never spoken before. He was an Anglican, I’m a Baptist. We lived hundreds of miles apart. John didn’t know me from Adam.

His words were an affirmation to my soul. Jokes and pranks are not always the obvious “tools of the trade” for pastors, and I had been criticised from time to time. To be told this was a valuable gift meant so much. The way my character is shaped is not a mistake, or something to be ashamed off. I am comfortable in my own skin. (I’m far from perfect- I should carry a sign saying “please be patient, God hasn’t finished with me yet.”)

God accepts us as we are. Even mischievous me, a work in progress. Even you, also a work in progress. That should put a smile on our faces.

A vicar, rabbi and Baptist minister walked into a bar. OUCH, they said in unison.

Just be glad I have better jokes than that, and may just try a spot of mischief… See you at the next conference, David. Sleep well!

Thick-skinned?

A frosty morning at ZSL Whipsnade Zoo found me watching the rhinos. The animal version of a battle tank, they have short sight and often short tempers. Rhinos also have very thick skin. One of them had a magpie attacking it, pecking away at wounds in the surface of its hide.

A closer look at the photo shows this more closely.

What a mismatch! Magpie against Tank. The rhino even seemed to tolerate the bird’s attention.

I suppose the rhino is pretty helpless. All its power and weight is useless against a small, quick, mobile opponent- even though the pecking must have been painful.

Zoo staff explained that the birds are actually helping the rhinos. Ticks and bugs can burrow into the thick hide; cuts and scratches can become infected. The magpie was doing a clean up in exchange for a chewy dinner.

So what? What does this have to do with us?

Consider this. Even the thick-skinned, tough types of people and institutions have faults and vulnerabilities. We may think we’re too small, too insignificant to make a difference. Yet our prayers and actions can have a vital impact on the health and well-being of our “targets”.

When we see things that trouble us, political or economic woes, injustices and a lack of compassion- we can act to highlight the issues. Our “rhinos” may bellow a bit, the pecking may sting! Even the thick-skinned need a bit of careful attention and constructive action.

Who or what has attracted your attention or given you a dose of righteous indignation? Will you pray? Write, email, or visit the person involved? Will you act to make a difference? Our rhinos might just be grateful… and some bugs controlled. Have a peck… do it carefully and in a controlled way. Prayer pecking, if you like!

“The Kingdom of Heaven is like a magpie who cleaned the hide of a rhinoceros… and stopped the rhino from being driven to violence by the biting irritation of its bugs…”

Mercy, mercy

Regular readers will know I love living near the sea. Ever-changing light, weather and waves fascinate me and provide camera fodder in generous measure.

The other morning I went down to the beach at Aldwick after a night of blustery weather. Endless ranks of waves were coming ashore, and as the crests broke the wind was just strong enough to whip the tops into spray.

A simple thought occurred to me. Nothing could turn back the waves: as every one threw itself against the shingle and rushed into its end, the next surge was following on. The stones and sand swallowed water and pushed back- each defeated wave drained slowly into the maelstrom, and added its weight to the incoming surge.

How like the endless mercy of God! A vast, measureless reservoir of grace flinging itself on to the hard stone of the shoreline. We cannot turn back the tide- it moves to a deeper rhythm and responds to the ceaseless wild wind. However hard our life, our circumstances, the mercy of God keeps pouring over our heads and hearts: we cannot control His love, but we can respond to it even in the storms.

There is a verse in Luke’s Gospel that I have never really noticed before today: a paraphrase of Luke 1:50 reads like this- “His mercy flows in wave after wave on those who are in awe before him.” It comes in the middle of Mary’s great song of exultant praise as she and Elizabeth rejoice in the children they will bear through God’s choice and miraculous action. These women face life changes of a huge scale, but can see the favour of God on them and towards the struggling world.

We cannot exhaust the mercy and grace of God. His love is more vast than any ocean. Think on that, and be at peace! Imagine yourself at the edge of the sea of compassion…

Come to the Quiet- Look, See, Pray

Quietness found beside the restless sea… The weather forecast had suggested a heavy swell propelled by a cold front moving down from the north, but here on the south coast all was calm and the slow, low ripples scarcely made a sound.

Cold? Oh yes, it was cold. The breeze blowing off the land betrayed its parentage, slicing through my thin jacket. A distant, bundled dog-walker moved faster than the dog wanted to go! Central heating and a cup of hot tea was the desire of a thick-coated human, whereas a thin-coated dog explored sand, seaweed, and sea-strand with pleasure.

My imagination kicked in. Did Jesus stand on the sea shore on a cold morning, watching the sky-veil torn asunder? Do the angels pause on their journeying, taking in the fresh beauty at the start of a new day?

When the world began, and the Spirit of the Lord hovered broodily over the waters, was it this quiet and peace that drew the morning words “It is good…”

Here is a short prayer, an invitation to rest in the shalom-presence of the Eternal Lord.

May the Peace of Christ be with us, always. Amen.

Time to rest

Christmas was packed away into boxes today. Our lights are down, tree gone, and the bathroom scales are being scrupulously avoided.

I don’t know if there is any direct link, but I have been falling into hibernation mode this week. I keep dropping off and rumour has it I may have snored. Certainly the cold grey day didn’t inspire outdoor activity. I clearly remember thinking “I should go out on my bike for some fresh air.” Good thought, no follow through!

Why so lethargic?

Could be reaction to sad news- some people dear to us have been suffering and struggling, and our hearts have grieved. Could be reaction to being busy and a bit stressed. It could be that I have some genetic link to big brown bears, and the low levels of sunlight have triggered the desire to slumber until Spring sets nature free again.

Rest is good. According to the Bible, God rested and taught His people they should do the same.

The photo is of a rose which flowered long past its usual season: then frost and sunshine combined to swiftly denude the flowers and open up the remnant for inspection. Strong sunlight threw the background into a velvety darkness, and the last beauty of the rose glowed.

Roses need to rest through the winter. They harbour their strength, and then are renewed for fresh growth and spectacular beauty next season.

I have been learning more about rest over the last year. Rest by choice, and also rest through weakness. Along with rest, I have been exploring silence and trust. All three belong together. My struggle has often been a perceived need to be active, creative, productive- but the lessons I am being taught are about the value of rest, the worth of silence, and the importance of trust. I identify with the words of Isaiah the prophet who warned about thinking we know all the answers and can work everything out with a bit of help from the strong. The new beginnings of a new year will go better IF only I will rest, be quiet, and trust.

Isaiah 30:15-16 (NLT)
This is what the Sovereign LORD, the Holy One of Israel, says: “Only in returning to me and resting in me will you be saved. In quietness and confidence is your strength. But you would have none of it. You said, ‘No, we will get our help from Egypt. They will give us swift horses for riding into battle.’ But the only swiftness you are going to see is the swiftness of your enemies chasing you!

Perhaps Isaiah speaks to you and me?

May the peace of God be ours this day.

Christ, as a light – Look, See, Pray

A prayer for the beginning of a New Year- a prayer suitable for any day. It is taken from the Daily Office of the Northumbria Community, and published in their beautiful “Celtic Daily Prayer” collection.

2018 has been a year of confusion and darkness. Beginning this new year with an invocation of the Light of Christ offers a fresh start with our vision centred on Jesus is important. It isn’t about asking God to “be on our side” … rather it is a statement of intent that we wish to be on His side, and serve the kingdom of heaven here on Earth.

May Christ be with us in 2019.

Christ, as a light
illumine and guide me.
Christ, as a shield
overshadow me.
Christ under me;
Christ over me;
Christ beside me
on my left and my right.
This day be within and without me,
lowly and meek, yet all-powerful.
Be in the heart of each to whom I speak;
in the mouth of each who speaks unto me.
This day be within and without me,
lowly and meek, yet all-powerful.
Christ as a light;
Christ as a shield;
Christ beside me

on my left and my right.

Celtic Daily Prayer, (c) The Northumbria Community Trust Ltd.

https://www.northumbriacommunity.org/

Stony Road

So close to Christmas. One more Advent theme to remember: Advent Love.

We can lose sight of Christmas in all the jollity and feasting. There’s nothing wrong with jollity, and feasting is always good to share. Advent lays the foundation for the feast by reminding us of the true cost of Christmas.

Singing sweet carols and looking at antiseptically clean manger scenes may prevent us thinking about the mess, the agony of labour, the presence of animals in the delivery room. The stony road up to Bethlehem giving sore feet and an aching back. No soft option existed for Mary, Joseph or Jesus. A new chapter was written in tears that began to wash away the sins of the world.

God prepared the Way. God paid the biggest bills. Love came down at Christmas… into a mucky confusion of noise and smells and threats. The stony road to Bethlehem foretold a stony road from Jerusalem to Golgotha. Birth and brutal execution begin and end the chapter. Love was willing to pay. Love turns Advent into Incarnation.

The steel Cross in the photograph is on a peak in the Austrian Alps, standing bold over the valley below. Walking up to the Cross is hard and stony- but the view is magnificent from the foot of the Cross. All the world is spread out below- and those who live in the valley look up and see the Cross watching over their village. God loved the world so much He gave His Son. This is Advent Love.

As the final hours of Advent slip away, walk that stony road of love. Walk with Mary & Joseph, walk with those journeying, walk with the shepherds who will shortly be summoned to take a rough road to see a Baby. Love remembers all things, and can see past the tinsel to touch a heavenly Crown. May God bless our journey, and our arising to greet the new-born Son.

Grasping at Straws? Or sharing hope?

I’ve been thinking about life in this world where so much is chaotic and painful. Feeling deeply grateful that faith in Christ reminds us that we can have a hope that transcends the weight of the news, politics, homelessness and lovelessness that bombards our senses every day.

Every year the farmer sows in hope of a harvest. Those seeds experience dirt, cold, heat, rain, drought, storms, bugs, light and darkness. Yet still they grow and bring comfort and sustenance… after being bashed, threshed and baked! They give life to others: and some seeds who avoid the baker will be re-sown for the harvest the year after. Life wins!

Quote from Henri Nouwen: “Our mortal bodies, flesh and bones, will return to the earth. As the writer of Ecclesiastes says: “Everything goes to the same place, everything comes from the dust, everything returns to the dust” (Ecclesiastes 3:20). Still, all that we have lived in our bodies will be honoured in the resurrection, when we receive new bodies from God.

What sorts of bodies will we have in the resurrection? Paul sees our mortal bodies as the seeds for our resurrected bodies: “What you sow must die before it is given new life; and what you sow is not the body that is to be, but only a bare grain, of wheat I dare say, or some other kind; it is God who gives it the sort of body that he has chosen for it, and for each kind of seed its own kind of body” (1 Corinthians 15:36-38). We will be as unique in the resurrection as we are in our mortal bodies, because God, who loves each of us in our individuality, will give us bodies in which our most unique relationship with God will gloriously shine.”

Love wins.

Those who hold to this hope can make a difference in this life for those who are desperate for any harvest. Nations with wealth have responsibility to help those who have nothing. A real hope of eternity surely leads to working towards positive change.

Another point of view…

Another point of view… seeing the prayer on the top of the breakwater.

Lord, that wooden post has been there years. Every day the sea floods it, covers it, bashes it and abandons it. What kind of life is that?

Barnacles, seaweed, a limpet or two. Nobody pays attention unless they happen to scrape their leg on it! What kind of life is that?

Seagulls stand on it, crabs walk round it. Dogs pee over it after chasing the seagulls away. Waves crash into it. What kind of life is that?

Resistance is futile, says the sea- we will assimilate you.
Not while I’m standing, says the post. I’ll break your waves!

Looking down from above, the photographer sees form, shape, and colour. The stubbornness of not giving in. A post with a purpose, a duty to fulfill. A home for tiny creatures with tiny urges of their own, just as stubborn as the post and clinging to life with all its trials.

I wonder if I looked at other people from a different point of view… what would I see? The stolid patience of daily living, the refusal to be battered into submission, still clinging to life and hope- knowing storms come and storms go.

Would I care, or notice, or walk away? What kind of life is that?

Lord, if you looked down on my life, what would you see?
“What kind of life is that?” says the angel, looking askance.

“A life with a purpose, and someone I love” says the Word who spoke Life to the world.

I guess we do matter, after all.