The Furnace

So last week I was at "Flames of Fire", the New Wine Cymru holiday week.

Holiday. Glory - I was running the Furnace, the 18-30s stream, a new thing this year, and was working from 10am till midnight every day!

Actually, it was great. Last year was hard work. We just had a late night cafe for young adults, and though the content was good - most of the evening speakers came along to chat about things that really inspired them - the venue was hard work as we shared it with a seminar thing, and had to put out chairs, and there were no comfy chairs to lounge on, we had to buy coffee etc and make it ourselves, we had to do everything - and then I had to drive home every night (Builth Wells is an hour away).

As there was just the cafe, it didn't plug into anything else, and it felt like a poorly thought-out add-on. Which it was. I went to the de-brief meeting afterwards ready to resign and walk away. But Gary from Ignite, the youth set up, started talking about combining the young adult stuff with the youth work. Using a part of their venue. Some of their team - who come into this age bracket. Including the top of the youth bracket into a new worship venue - 16-30s. And I began to get a bit of vision. Bother. I couldn't walk away - though I really wanted to.

Gary and Nigel kept encouraging me. The New Wine leadership kept encouraging me. I kept wanting to walk away. (Though I may have not said that out loud.) Nigel put a team together, and I added a couple of people. We put a programme together. I began to get excited by it.

This year - well, the week before the event, Nigel (who was overseeing everything) got ill. And two members of my church died. So my preparation was a little altered... I run a church like a family. Losing two members in one week, well, it is traumatic. I'm not claiming I feel it like Anne's sister or Phil's daughter, but as I sat on my stairs after Phil's funeral just letting myself shed a few tears, knowing I had to get back in the car and drive back to Builth for that afternoon's events at Flames - it was not the week I had envisaged.

Having said that - it was a great week. We had 70 people attend our worship meetings, with the excellent Superhero leading the music, and speakers ranging from Dai Hankey to Don Williams. There was a steady theme through all the evenings, about discovering that God loves us for who we are.

We had 56 one night in our cafe (last year our high number was 19!) - this photo is of MGQ doing a jazz worship set in the cafe. Most nights we had a sort of chat show set up, with guests being quizzed by Lois Richards and myself, plus live music either from the guests themselves - or in Bruce Collins' case, from his son Matthew. Bruce was great - prophesying to the crowd, and explaining about prophesy in the church, whilst perhaps the most profound evening was Andy Booth's instrumental worship night.

One person described coming into our worship times as being like walking into a wall of God. One person felt they had their asthma healed, and then came to me asking for prayer that they might go and pray for their friends to be healed as well. Two people felt they heard angels sing one night as we worshipped - and I can believe it.

We moved the cafe venue from one room to another midweek. It involved a lot of furniture, a PA system, a kitchen re-think - a lot of hassle. I apologetically looked at the team. "Can we do this?" They all agreed - it was the right thing to do - it was no trouble. A can-do attitude. With that kind of heart, no wonder we were in a place where we could be blessed.

Gary oversaw us, with Paul Thompson, and did a sterling job. John, Richard, Naomi, Lois, Maddie, Patrick, Geraint, plus Diana and Elen in the cafe - and Tim on the PA and Nick on visuals - all were great, as were Superhero and my own little band on the two occasions we played. Hard work. Real blessing.

On the final morning, a guy came up to me - I guess he was 18 - he'd had a couple of questions during the week - and he told me he'd had a sense of God speaking to him and hadn't known what to do with it. We talked and prayed and I challenged him a bit. It followed on from things said earlier on, and built on the respect and trust I hope he'd found I'd shown a couple of days before. It was the last thing I did before leaving the site. That he came to me to ask his question and be prayed for - I felt I had done a job well. I certainly enjoyed doing it.

Last year I would have walked away gladly. This year, if they ask me to - I'll be gutted.

Ticket to see Harry

Not that Harry!

Finally Mr Harry Connick Jr is returning to these shores with his big band, and I have purchased a ticket to see them at the Royal Albert Hall in November. I needed a second mortgage, but there you go.

He sings, he runs the band, he plays piano, he arranges, he wrote the software for the computer programme that they read for music (no pieces of paper on their stands), and he acts. What's not to like?

Makes you spit.

I am so looking fowards to it. Now here is a Harry with real magic.

Still Pottering About

I did it. I was still up at midnight (not purposely, but there you go) so the dog and I got in the car and drove to Tesco.

There wasn't a "mad rush". But as far as I could see there were one's and twos at all the checkouts with their Harry Potter books in hand. Some with multiple copies. Tesco had an offer on - spend £50, get the book for just £5 (£10 normal price).

Well, throughout the HP years, one has had to admire JK Rowling. I mean - when was the last time I saw people lined up at every check out in a supermarket at midnight (or, indeed, any time at all for that matter) to buy a BOOK as soon as it was released? A BOOK for goodness sake, like it was a fashion item. And people won't just put this on the shelf, they'll really read it.

Of course marketing has something to do with it. But not at first - not when no-one had the foggiest idea, not when it was entirely the preserve of a few middle class kids. And marketing can't make people actually read something that's terrible, even if it can make them buy it.

I'm 70-odd pages in. First impressions - she does write well. Better than number 6, which I am afraid I felt turgid most of the time. The zing is back, even if the tone remains dark. I'm a little nervous about the body count this book will rack up - no spoilers here, but we're already getting through them is all I'll say.

And there was just a little moment of excitement as I held the book in my hands for the first time. I love books. I love the feel of them, the weight, the solidity, the way the physical form is so pedantic and yet it holds the key to unknown flights of imagination. Wonderful contradiction. I consume books, drink them in, allowing words to fill me and feed me and nourish my mind. This book has a special place - last in a series, a series that has revolutionised reading and publishing, a series that has had an effect on the culture of our land, a series that has had publishers eager to find "the next Harry Potter" (there won't be one, not in those terms, this is a unique phenomenon) though many readers stimulated by the experience (especially, I think, its core market - the young) have gone on to discover other things. I started this series as I came here to Pontypridd. There are kids who don't remember life before it. Now it comes to a conclusion.

And yes, I should be reading the thing rather than writing about it, but actually, I like to take a moment to enjoy the moment (see post number 1 on this blog!) and not let it pass me by. The thrill of reading a new book should never be glossed over. The reality of getting into the book can be stunningly disappointing - but this moment of arrival is always wonderful. And this book, I feel, will keep up the momentum of this moment throughout its pages, and leave me with a sense of glorious fulfillment and loss at the end - fulfillment as the series is fittingly concluded; loss as there are no more words to read, and the book again becomes just a book, a lifeless collection of print and pages, my imagination having left it behind once more.

Now: back to it.

Pottering About

I enjoyed the first two or three Harry Potter books. Four I found long, five bleak, six turgid. The films are worse. The first two were as short on magic as they could possibly have been - where the books zipped along, the films plodded. I mean, sure, there were great ideas, and sure, they were "faithful" to the ideas and kind of looked like we all though the books meant them to look like...

But kids and adults together enjoyed those early, derring-do books. The movies were strictly for the kids. Shame.

Movie number three escapes my memory entirely; number four was pleasingly different, but still as episodic as the book and without the ability to put it down and go away and do something else for a while, it felt like an old fashioned Saturday morning serial all rolled into one big (slightly indigestible) slice.

Why carry on going back for more? It's my nature. I am a collector. If I start something, I finish it. They have just released season 8 of ER on DVD, and I almost bought it, but money is a bit tight this month. I have seasons 1 through 6; 7 is turgid, but 8 is better. Maybe another time. I got the final season of West Wing the other week - not to watch, you understand, just to complete the set.

So I went this morning (day off!) to see the fifth film. And blow me down, it's a great film! Far and away the best of the series - in a completely different league from all the others.

Now, I need to stop getting carried away. First, all the others have done the ground work. So if you go in without all of that, the Dursleys and Cornelius Fudge and the Weasleys and Azkaban and even the friendship between Harry and Hermione and Ron might all seem strange. Without having read the book, Sirius' fate could be rather mysterious. But let's presume that most people have a passing knowledge of these things. If you are starting the series, number 5 is not the place to start, but it is most certainly one to look forwards to!

The look of the film has a confidence, the effects have a place to enhance the story (not to dominate), and the episodic feel of the books has been jettisoned by a script-writer who has finally decided "hang on, this book is too big to be a movie - let's just make a decent movie using the core of this material". It's so long since I read the book I have no idea what has gone and I couldn't care less - they made the right choices. It is a film! It has a beginning (excellent Dursley sequence), middle (great new character in Imelda Staunton's gloriously pink Dolores Umbridge) and end (stunning), the characters develop, though some are made more minor as in neccesary in a film.

Sirius' fate is beautifully done - not overplayed, but heart breaking, and not dwelt on as the action moves on to the next sequence which is superb. There's a fair amount of flash-back going on, (and even Snape comes out of this as more human) and Harry's use of memory to fight Voldemort was great. Nice message about love, friendship and joy - the good things we have - beating hatred in the world. Perhaps our Security Minister might go watch this film and learn something?

It's not the best film ever, it's not the best film this year. It is the best HP film so far; it is the only HP film so far that stands up as a real film and not just a "film of a book". If you have grown weary of these movies, go see this one, it's worth it. It kept me on the edge of my seat & I was almost tempted to buy another ticket and watch it all again.

Summer Holidays - Part One

So I had a week or so away.

Event number one was a super wedding - Simon and Cathryn Armer, at Bowness on Windermere. The photo here is of Simon and Cathryn, with Cathryn's family all around. Cathryn's dad, Kevin, is also a vicar - indeed, the vicar of the first Anglican church I ever attended! I was organist and choir master of St John's Great Harwood before I knew how to play the organ or conduct the choir. Cathryn's mother, Linda, died a couple of years ago, and she ran a choir which sang my first musical...

It was a fun wedding. I did the actual ceremony - thanks to James, the local vicar for letting me do so. Though he did interrupt and almost stopped me from saying "You may now kiss the bride". I guess the line really isn't in the service book, but who misses out that line? Not me!

The next photo is of Karen, Siobhan, Warren and I on the morning after, down by the lakeside. The wedding started at 4pm on Friday and was still going when I drove off at 2pm on Sunday! K&S are work friends of Cathryn's, W used to be in the youth group at Great Harwood. We all had a splendid time - including some rather non-vicarly dancing from yours truly. Cathryn dances like her mother - very dramatic, and rather splendidly.


Then I had a lazy few days based at Mum's, but travelling around to see some friends. This photo is of Philip and Cynthia Johnston - Philip was formerly headmaster at my old grammar school, and Cynthia taught me maths in my first year there. They live in Long Preston in North Yorks now, in a splendid seventeenth century house, and we had a delightful lunch together. Cynthia took me for a walk around the village and showed me the church where she is Warden and Philip Reader, and Philip was on good story telling form. He went into Christies in Manchester the following day for a cancer op - though you would not have known there was anything wrong with him.

He was a controversial figure at school; but I thought a good headmaster: a school like ours needed someone to put it on the map, to get in sponsors and funds, to achieve charity work alongside academic excellence. (From memory, twenty-one of us went to Oxford or Cambridge in my year - there were only forty-nine in this year's upper sixth form all told.) If he had his blind spots, as some are quick to say - which of us do not? I personally look back to one of his assemblies (and to one given by the school chaplain) as a turning point in my coming to faith, so I have much to thank Philip for.

This is me visiting Robin Taylor, ex-English teacher, and inspirer of my love of literature, writing and many things dramatic. He was the director of my one Shakesperean stage role - Brutus, in a 1984 school production of Julius Caesar. I'll share the photos another time. Robin is always good company, as is his wife, Ann, my first form French teacher. And my current reading (Nick Hornby's Polysyllabic Spree) is rather shamed by his Complete Letters of AE Housman. Still, I enjoyed regaling them both with an encounter I had with an ex-East businessman-cum-musician who used the phrase "I had to teach him a lesson" in a way that was more akin to Reggie Kray than my old grammar school...

And that more or less covers my little holiday trip. Apart from a strange experience of healing prayer and the dog - but perhaps I'll write about that another time.

Are you calling me a Companion?

Apparently so. Kylie for Christmas. Catherine Tate for the rest of the year.

Are we bovvered?

Personally, I found the rather light and easy paced Doctor episode last Christmas which featured CT's Donna to be a pure delight. A whole series of Donna sounds a bit of a challenge - but gives us a total change from the sometimes mawkinsh Martha.

And does this start a precedent? I mean, if CT does this next year, having been a Christmas companion, then should the series last into a fifth year beyond that, will Kylie be travelling more permanently?

We should be so lucky.

Procrastination

Who should be so lucky?

Following the end of Saturday's episode, I can't get Who out of my head; I mean, it may or may not be the end of the Master, but better the devil you know...

And who should be so lucky as to be the next companion for the good Doctor at Christmas time? Word is out: the invitation to come into my world has gone to -

Kylie.

That's Who.

Are you shocked? Will it be love at first sight, or a celebration? Will they step back in time? Never too late to go spinning around the universe,I guess.

And at the end, will the Doctor invite her to please stay, or will she be asking, give me just a little more time? Either way, on a night like this Christmas, it's no secret, there'll be tears on my pillow.

There, I did it again.

Celebration Again!

So we were on the radio again yesterday. Click here for the BBC Wales Celebration site, and then click on "Listen Again" - but only upto June 23rd!!! After that, it will be the next church in the rota that you will hear, and not us at all.

Reflections. After the Easter broadcast, I gave a measured response. The broadcast did what I wanted - told the Easter story really well with a huge cast of people involved, and the singing and speaking were all well recorded; but the band was superb 'live', and that just hadn't been as well recorded as I would have hoped, or indeed as well recorded as the BBC did last time they came.

This one was very different - much more reflective in tone, basically it is three poetic mediations on worship, with songs and short prayers. Again, the singing and speaking is well recorded. But this time, the band (though it's not perfect, but I guess that's 'live' work and limited time for you) comes over much, much better.

There are also fewer speaking voices involved, but they are all fantastic. Kevin Ellis, Gill Tuck and Stewart Franklin read the meditations, whilst Naomi and I lead the service. Kev, Gill and Stewart are phenomenal. Charlotte Ellis sings "Here I am to worship" as a solo - really great.

I am absolutely delighted. Really moved. Welling up with worship. Regular readers (and there a handful of you!) please click the link and listen before the end of this week. And let me know what you think.

I had an amazing time writing these services; I have just had an amazing time listening, and worshipping.

So though at the time it was a lot of hard work, this makes it worth while. I'm glad you rang up and asked us to do it Karen: thank you.

Live on Five at Six Fifteen

At six fifteen-ish this evening, Peter Allen on the evening news on Radio Five Live said -

"We've had an email from Marcus in Pontypridd. He writes:

'I received a letter in the post this morning:

Dear Sir or Madam - The Greater London Low Emission Zone - how could it effect you?

Here's my address: The Vicarage, Gelliwastad Grove, Pontypridd, Wales CF37 2BS.

There's a nice leaflet and a website. I checked on the "Area of Operation" link, and Pontypridd isn't inside it. I wondered if any other listeners from even further afield have been treated to this leaflet, or if I am special?'

So has anyone else had this leaflet about the Low Emission Zone - whatever that is? Let us know!"

"Especially if you are outside London" added Jane, his co-presenter.

And within minutes, from Barnsley, Worksop and Glasgow people were emailing in. So the Mayor of London seems to be less green than he thinks, given that this mailing went out to thousands of people who had absolutely no need for it. Oops.

Actually, Peter didn't read the Gelliwastad Grove bit. Clearly he felt that detail was (a) beyond his North London ability, or (b) just too much detail. Though he did read the post code. So I'm thinking (a).

Hooray anyway! A successful email on Drive! My first!

Who will buy?

Just another plug.

Except this time, you don't have to go anywhere to do something about it. Just scroll down to the bottom of the page and you can listen to snippets and also (importantly!) purchase tracks from Every Breath from the Music Store here on the blog!

See how thoughtful I am? How kind, giving, and ready to resource your every need?

If I could work out how to make Salvation's Song an e-book, I'd do that too!

Florida

So I never got round to blogging about my trip to Florida after Easter. Time I put that right.

Here's my sister, Gill, outside her pad in Zephyrhills. It's evening, so it's cool, mid to high seventies, and she's pottering around in the garden. Funny, when we were kids, she hated the garden. Maybe when I'm as old as she is, I'll have green fingers too.

This is Ben, my nephew, and Lucy the dog, lounging by the pool out the back of the house.
Ben is now nearly eleven, and bright as anything. About to change up to middle school, he is struggling with choices. Should he do band? Or chorus? Or elective wheel? (Whatever that is.) Band, says my sister, is where the nerdy kids go. But it's what he wants to do - go for it Ben! Look at me, it did me no harm. I'd make the same choice.

Though there are those who might claim I was one of the nerdy kids. But heck, if getting top grades all through school and claiming a place at the top university in the country and still knowing enough trivia to win Tim Hughes' music quiz means I'm a nerd, I can live with it.

Here's Gill walking the dog. Both of them enjoying the exercise. Not a lot of walking going on. Ben is on his scooter behind them. I'm looking at the red car...

Actually it was a great trip. Gill's job now means I see a lot more of her when I go over - her hours work out much better, or they did this time. I used to just chill by the pool and see her briefly in the evening, but this time we had whole days together! And that was a lot of fun.

As was meeting up with Chris Berryman, an old friend from Maryland who now lives not far away. He's here with Kurt, his friend who works at Disney and very generously took me round for a day. We had a great time - though by the end, my feet were bearing the marks of too much sun!

I hadn't seen Chris for far too many years, but it really was like only yesterday, the way we instantly began to joke and enjoy the time together. And then chat theology and work through really deep issues. Friendships mean the world to me; it was a great joy to renew this one.

One last picture. Me in "France" at Epcot. Just to prove I was there. This has become (for a while anyway) my main photo on MySpace. It has been years since I could fit into this Man Utd shirt! So I'm just showing off. And being thankful - it was a great holiday, a great time with Gill and Ben, and then with Chris and also with Kurt, and I look forwards to going back soon.

Pop Quiz

I spent a very enjoyable day at the start of the week with Al Gordon and Tim Hughes on the Worship Central worship leaders' retreat at Malshanger House, the little place in the country that HTB keep for such events.

I arrived in time for supper on the first evening, followed by a music quiz. Al seemed pleased when he heard of my of my previous quiz exploits.

Now it may just be that there are one or two other people out there ignorant of those exploits...

So here we go. This is me with Anne Robinson on the Weakest Link about four years ago. I only entered cos another friend wanted to audition. He was never called up. Me? Well, you don't think I'd be telling this story if I came second, do you?

You do?

Shame on you!

You're right. That photo could be anyone. Let's do better.

Count the ticks next to my name. For the record, the answers "ZZ Top", "Swansea" and "France", preceded by copious amounts of looking straight into the camera for effect, won me the game.

And (back to Worship Central) Al Gordon seemed quite pleased with this. Strangely I ended up on his team for the evening's music quiz... and I have to say that with the amount of competetive spirit between us, we could have set up a brewery!!! Of course we won. Even Tim's attempts to level the playing field by setting us foreign language worship song charades couldn't stop us. (How would you mime "Agnes Dei"? How did I do it? Successfully!)

So it was with enormous good grace that the assembled throng of worship leaders from all over the globe listened to my talks the following morning.

And with great grace that I was able to deliver them. I am struggling through one of my periodic depressive patches. Monday was a hyper day. I've been suffering for it since. The good thing is that the patches of up and down are switching more frequently now, and as they do that, though life is a bit of a roller coaster, it normally means the depression is on its way to burning itself out. Through the night on Monday I was so hyper I couldn't sleep; still, that gave me lots of chance to pray, and that's what I mean about delivering the talks with grace - a sense of gifted answer to prayer.

Just being there in that amazing place was a gift; being there with such wonderful people was a gift; being able to share some of the Salvations Song stuff was a terrific gift of which I never tire. God is good; and these hard days are filled with moments of glory to remind me of his goodness.

Tea with the Cousins

Here am I with American friends, Tory Baucum and JD Walt, in London last week.

Tory and I have known each other for years - since before his hair turned grey and mine turned loose, as he once said, introducing me to preach. He is a good man, a servant of God through tough times, and is about to take on the rectorship of Truro Church in Virginia, where he will be a great blessing.

JD is a newer friend. Dean of Chapel at Asbury Seminary in Kentucky, we met first a couple of years back when I went over there to teach on a course Tory was running. He has a heart for worship, and the soul of a poet. It has been my privilege to get to know him.

The fourth member of our party, Mimi, is taking the photo. She was a delight - and gave me endless opportunity to talk about my second favourite subject - myself.

We had a good day, wandering, seeing some art in the National Gallery, chatting theology, comparing views on American Idol. In life, God gifts us with such friends - and such precious moments - to share the deep and the trivial and to realise that in vastly different cultures we share one God who loves us all the same.

Hell-o, goodbye

Whilst I was out having the dog trimmed yesterday (and he looks great, by the way – I think I should have my hair cut now) a friend of mine was having a long blog chat about her problems with hell.

Basically she wonders if she is a proper Christian because she doesn’t believe in a classically drawn up hell; which seems to me to be a very Christian position to hold! The following was my very long response, based on two questions…

And as her conversation had moved on from that initial topic by the time I got into it, I entitled my diatribe:OK – let’s go back to hell. As it were.

Before I ask my first question, I think I need to point out that I ask this question because I want to engage with the Scriptures. This, after all, is what an evangelical should do, isn't it? So I realise that for many evangelicals, my question will seem strange, because we work with a system that has given reference points, but actually some of those reference points sometimes owe quite a lot to historical theology and biblical interpretation, and not quite as much to actual BIBLE as we imagine.

I think hell is one of these issues.

Let me ask my first question. Do people have an eternal soul?

The basic answer we give to this (i.e. "yes") is a Greek answer. Because if you search the Old Testament, it is quite hard to come to that conclusion. It is quite hard to come to any conclusion about the soul from the OT, because Hebrew thinking really does not separate the soul, the "spiritual bit" of a person, from the body. The NT appears to say more, but when read with Jewish eyes (and I always think that if we have a theology that we know Jesus could not have had - i.e. a totally Gentile one, it probably needs some work) lots of those references don't come across so much as the spiritual part of a person so much as the spiritual longing of a person, which is quite a different concept.

Indeed, Jesus himself clearly argues against the idea of everyone having an eternal soul (in that classic Greek sense) in one of the best known chapters of the NT. Can't place it? Go read John 3 again and come back.What is all that "born again" stuff except the need for a spiritual birth without which we are not spiritually alive? (Read that sentence again to get the full meaning of it.)

Or try St Paul. Try one of the evangelist's favourite proof texts: Romans 6.23. Sin is separation from God. Its result - death. But the free gift of God to all who trust in Christ - eternal life.

So - my second question is - Where does hell fit here? If eternity is only the gift of God to the believer, where does a mediaeval hell fit here? The only need for such a place is if EVERYONE has an eternal "soul". Then there needs to be a place to put the outsider (should there be outsiders).

Seems to me the Scripture again and again makes it clear - eternal life is the gift of God to his beloved children who have a share in the resurection life of his Son. Apart from that - death. Perishing. Darkness. A weeping at judgement, then, nothing. All else is a metaphor. Not a stick to beat people into the kingdom, but a sadness beyond its bounds. Jesus is the Lord of life. There can be no life beyond him. And no point in life with him, if people do not want it - for love has been over-ridden and becomes not-love. Love must be free, and must be love.

Within British evangelicalism this position (or variants upon it) is held by people like Tom Wright, John Stott and other major players. And they would all be recognised as evangelicals. It comes from a desire to explore Scripture, not to avoid unseemly doctrine. Historical doctrine you see also has a context and a culture of its own - it is not per se perfect. We ourselves humbly need to recognise we may not get everything right, but we are right to ask questions and to struggle with these issues. So - I think you do not fall outside either Christianity or even evangelicalism for having questions re a classical drawing of hell. And if fear is used as a motivation to point people to Jesus by some, I have major issues with such "evangelism" - what is good news here? How many times do we see Jesus using fear as his major motivation? Healing the sick, casting out demons, telling people God is at hand, scaring the living daylights out of gullible people - one of these methods does not seem to be New Testament!

Do I believe in hell?

I believe in God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Passionately. And I believe that the way to know the Father is through the Son in the power of the Spirit. And I want to help people to share in this amazing relationship of love and joy and power.

I believe that the Scriptures contain all we need to help us on the way, and that God speaks to us today to help us understand his word. And that if we share this life together, as his body, we can change the world for good.

I believe that being a Christian isn't about having an insurance policy for the heareafter (though I believe that this life is but an overture, and one day the hints of themes and melodies I am catching today will be revealed in fulness and glory)but about knowing God right now, making today better - for me and those around me. I believe I am here to worship him, and to draw as many with me in that life journey of worship as I can.

And I believe that God is good, that he loves people, and that Jesus shows this time and time again, especially on the cross and at the resurrection. Are you in danger of falling out of his hand? His hands are too big, and too loving for that. He has made you with a wonderful mind: don't be afraid of using it or ashamed of asking your questions in his name. He loves those questions and the mind and heart that has the power and the integrity to come up with them.

I've changed my mind. Let's not go back to hell. I couldn't find it if I tried. I wouldn't know where to look. There ain't no directions in my guidebook.

Healing Questions

Last week I drove the 500-mile round trip to Harrogate for the annual New Wine leaders' conference. Gloriously, as an international delegate (it's a very English thing, and being a Welsh vicar, that makes me international) I had been offered total hospitality by New Wine, which I was delighted to accept.

I sometimes love New Wine, and sometimes do not. Their values of charismatic ministry and evangelical emphasis on the Bible are important to me; however it can all feel a bit culturally upper middle class, and that isn't really where I am at.

Bruce Collins is now heading up New Wine Cymru, and I like Bruce a lot. He is gloriously disorganised sometimes, but wonderfully godly, and even when I find myself disagreeing with him, (as when he was heading up New Wine's publishing arm and would'nt publish my book) I still warm to him. He rang me and asked me to go to this conference - and I am thrilled he did - it was outstanding.

The main speaker was Bill Johnson from Redding in California. Of all that he said, two things stood out to me.

First, a challenge on attitudes to healing. So often we focus on what God is not doing, rather than on what he is doing. So - we pray, and somebody is healed, but others are not, and we focus on pastoring those who have received nothing rather than the one who was healed.

Bill questioned this in a way that seems at first offensive - "so we just leave those who are hurting?" is how I was left feeling. How can that be right?

But Bill wants to see a movement away from this pastoring to an ongoing encounter with the work of God as better care of God's people. The movement away from the "why did God not heal?" question, which cannot be answered, and which lies at the heart of such pastoring, to a totally different question - "what do we do next", which can be answered, and which can point to blessing others and to generosity which itself heals when we have been left grieving - this is brilliant pastoring and great theology, and something so obvious I have never seen it before.

A friend of mine put it this way. Her husband died of a brain tumour. She often prays for people to be healed, but never prays for people with brain tumours. Why not? Because if they get healed, she has to ask "Why?" again - why this person and not my husband, and all the old pain returns. If pastoring peopole who get no answer revolves around the "Why" question, this is how we are left.

But now after last week at this conference, she sees that she wants to pray for people with brain tumours. What made the difference? Because she knows she will never understand why her husband died; but if she prays for someone else, they might get healed, and that family will never have to face what she has faced, and that has to be better. If she prays, there is a chance of healing, and that has to be better than no chance for someone else. It is called generosity, it is called love, it is called Christianity.

It is called challenging! And life-changing, and thought-provoking and far from simple, and a real revolution in attitudes. And I found it profound and godly.

So when we pray, we focus on the small answers we do see, and we pray again. And next time we may see more. Or the time after. We may never get the answer we want, but through our prayers someone else might, and that is reason enough to pray - unless we only pray selfishly? Surely the ability to care for others and turn our loss to love for others is itself good pastoral care?

The "why did God not do this for me?" question may need to be visited; but not as a final destination, not as a resting place. It has no real answer, and therefore if we keep it, it will simply keep and consume us. "What next?" can have an answer, and therefore a life beyond it.

Secondly, Bill encouraged us to dream dreams for our churches. If we won't who will? And if we think God will, I guess he will - but he has given us a role to play, so we should play it. So I have been praying for dreams for St Catherine's.

And in my dreams, I see a worshipping community that heals people. Including me.
A worshipping community that refreshes people.
A worshipping community where the poorest are decked out in finery as princes and princesses in God's kingdom.
A place where I get to baptise the children of those who come to faith here. Generations of faith.
A place where we cannot stand for the blessing he will pour upon us.
And though I will be invited out from this place, I will always preach here first what I will take out - the blessing will be first for here, and then for elsewhere.

We had a tunnel of prayer one night, and I prayed in that place for more dreams for my church. I have been dreaming ever since. Lord, grant me more dreams, and more, and more. And make them real.

And thank God for New Wine, and Bruce's invitation.

Glory, Glory

On the terraces at Old Trafford the Battle Hymn of the Republic of Manchester soars out - "Glory, Glory, Man United! Glory, Glory, Man United! Glory, Glory, Man United! And the Reds go marching on on on!"

And so they do. All Reds everywhere this morning find themselves basking in our ninth Premiership title. Ninth out of fifteen, it's not a bad record. The pundits keep writing Fergie off, and for sure we have our moments of grizzling away at him, but he's done it again for us - created a new team that is the best in the land.

Chelsea's Russian Revolution has stumbled; and the Florida sunshine is shining at Old Trafford a little more brightly today. The Glazer take-over has beaten the Abramovich billions, for now anyway, and on Wednesday evening the scene will be completed as United will stroll out onto Chelsea's home turf to be applauded as champions for the first time by the Blue part of London. Who writes these scripts? Hats off to them - it couldn't possibly be any better!

And for once, it feels like most people in the country are happy for United to have done it. For Chelsea have also taken the "most hated club in the land" title away from us, and I for one am happy for them to keep that a little longer.

So - messers Rooney, Ronaldo, Giggs, Scholes, Smith, Vidic, Ferdinand, Carrick, Neville, Heinze, Evra, O'Shea, Brown, Van der Sar, Park, Fletcher, Silvestre, Saha, Richardson, Eagles, all squad members, and mostly Ferguson - many thanks.

And here's to the FA Cup.

Losing fifty pounds: the secret of contentment

It wasn't an accident this time. So don't worry.

And I haven't been gambling, so get up off your knees, my soul is safe.

It's the best fifty pounds I ever lost - not that I'm in the habit of losing fifty pounds regularly, I'm a vicar, and can't afford to do that!

And I seriously hope it isn't simply mislaid, and that when I say "lost", I mean "lost", never to be re-found.

For, of course, I don't mean £50 at all. I mean 50lb. Just over three and a half stone for the UK readership. Back in September I weighed in at 14 stone 10lb - 206 pounds for our colonial friends. 89 kilos. Today I hit 11 stone 2 lb - 156 pounds. 71 kilos. That's a reduction of just under a quarter of my body weight in just over seven months.

How and why?

Let's start with why. So I got old in November. 40. I'm short, losing my hair, fat and ageing. One of these four factors is in my control!

How? Discipline. I took most sugar out of my diet - I drink a lot of Coke but switched to Coke Zero. Dessert is my favourite meal of the day - and it went. For a while completely, for a while just reduced severely.

And as my friend Ricky points out, the drugs do work. As an ongoing migraine preventative I swapped from Pizotifen (side effect: weight gain) to Topiramate (side effect: weight loss) in September. The information sheet that comes with the tablets includes this helpful line: "If you are losing too much weight...the amount of food being eaten should be increased." Well, that's clear!

The thing is, these tablets have given me a metabolism I haven't had since my early twenties. I can eat almost anything and not gain weight. If I just eat normally, I lose weight. So I eat well, and stay put. If I want to shed a pound or two, I eat normally - not frugally. This can't last, but for now, it's like finding the goose that lays the golden egg!

And I haven't been down to this weight since leaving Aberystwyth in '99 - and that summer it was due to hard work, involving a strict diet and lots of exercise.

Let's get this in perspective. St Paul talks about those people whose "god is their stomach", and when I see all the diet stuff around, I wonder if he means that as well rather than just people who simply gorge themselves. Contentment is about being happy however life finds you, because circumstance doesn't rule you.

But at 40, and having given up and felt that I was now always going to be the chubby kid in the class, to get back to being my old shape again does feel good. And it makes me wonder what else have I settled for that need not be the case?

Because contentment is not about settling for less. Yet sometimes as I grow older I find that settling for less becomes acceptable. These last months have shown me there is a difference, and I need to spot that difference, be content in all things, yet continue to strive for a life that settles for nothing less than all I can achieve.

My church is growing a bit. Lord, grow it more. In faith and number, please.

I am enjoying doing musical things again - Lord I pray for more opportunities, and more time to develop these skills again, to make the most of them, not to think that I've gone as far as I can.

Suddenly there are kids here who want to grow in worship leading skills - Lord give me a passion to pass on all I have learned and imbibed over the years, that they might thrive.

Losing weight - losing complacency - gaining new vigour and new contentment. And the old dog is learning new tricks.

Listen on the Web!

St Catherine's broadcast on the BBC today - and by the way: Happy Easter! In case you missed it, click Here is the link, and then click on the "listen again" button. But you have to listen between today, April 8th, and April 14th 2007, as after this week the link will still be there, but you will be listening again to the next church to be broadcast!

I am happy with the spoken element, but a little disappointed with the BBC recording of our music, which 'live' had rather more to it than you'd guess from this recording. Still - have a listen, and let me know what you think.

Again: Happy Easter!

(later)

On listening again, I think that the BBC did a really great job with the spoken stuff, and the singing is very good too - especially as we could have had more people come to the recording. But I wish you could have heard how amazing the band actually were! Ah well, that's live recording and limited time I guess. I think on the whole I am really pleased - it is a good Easter service that tells the story well. My Asbury friends would recognise my narrative theology!

"Hands on" solutions

This term we have been looking at gifts of the Spirit in our Tuesday home group at church. Last week I did a practical session on how to pray for healing - because the week before people had offered to pray for me, cos they felt they should, but they really had no idea what to do.

Healing prayer isn't magic. It is simple, it is compassionate, it is gentle, it is godly, and it is common sense. I follow the Vineyard "hands on" pattern of prayer, and use a very clinical teaching model - not a technique - as I demonstrate how one might pray. Emotional it is not: we ask the Spirit to come, and trusting him to answer that positively, I then take every opportunity to show teh group step by step what is happening as we pray so that they may learn as much as possible from the experience.

We do ask for someone to volunteer to be prayed for. Kath stepped forward. I don't know how she is over the issue she asked for, but at the end I felt I should add a prayer for her sleep, something she hadn't mentioned. She was really touched by this, as she had been struggling recently and needed help. And has slept well since.

Then I asked for prayer, whilst others prayed for me following what they had learned, and I am pleased to report my migraine stopped at day thirteen - ie on Tuesday night. I have even started sleeping again, which is an added bonus! Recovery after a prolonged migraine is itself a bit of a journey, but one which is going well.

I love being in a church where people learn and discuss and share and experience God together. I love, too, having friends who ring me up afterwards and conduct the most bizarre phone calls... wonderfully de-stressing!

Heads you win...

So it settled. The migraine. This is the end of day eleven, making this the longest migraine I've had since last July. Actually, one brief evening's flicker in November apart, it's the only migraine I've had since then. So no complaints.

The change of medication I had in September has done a great job - and had one significantly positive side effect of which I will write more in the days to come. Before that point, in the first six months of the year I had three migraines - 8, 15 and 22 days in duration.

What causes them? Too many things. Diet has some effect. As does stress. As does the weather. All these things can come together and not cause one. Or seemingly there can be no trigger, and one happens. Given the remarkable stresses of the job since last September, to get this far without so far succumbing is a major triumph. Again, credit to the new drugs, which I take religiously, twice daily.

The length of an attack is the main problem. Fuzziness and forgetfulness and dizzyness and the like are all very amusing in short measure; they grow old quickly. As do the headaches themselves, though these vary in intensity, and darkened rooms etc help - as do simple pain killers (when in industrial strength - thanks, doc) though little else does. Coke can help - Coca Cola, that is; the caffeine sometimes seems to knock the edge off. But it also stops me sleeping. Swings and roundabouts.

I have managed to carve two days at the end of this week in my diary to take as days away; providing I am well enough to drive somewhere. If my balance is bad, that's not a good idea... But sometimes a break away is one way of breaking the cycle. At 15 days I will try anything. At 20 I will be demanding all sorts...

And at 27 days I shall be going on holiday. I hope to be sorted by then. But if stress is a major factor, a holiday will help. Though a migraine lasting 27 days will be a recent record, even by my standards.

Still: perspective. It's a debilitating headache. That's all. God is good, and there are many, many people who would give anything to be so lucky. There was a posting below this, which I have removed, about the Pakistan/Ireland cricket match entitled "Such Games as These". Given all that has happened since, I felt I should remove it, and I should be so lucky as to be able to complain about a migraine.

Accidents do happen

So I am driving up the hill to the spot where I always walk the dog. It's a single track road, pretty wild. And suddenly as I round a corner, there's a cyclist coming at me, really fast. I brake. He brakes. I come out of it better.

I don't hit him. I stop well. I'm driving carefully, cos the road is tricky, and I do it every day. But he is coming downhill towards me and is going fast; he hits his front brake so hard that he goes over his front wheel, smacks onto the road, hits his head with a crack, hits his face, his arms, his legs. He's wearing a helmet, which I think saves his life.

He lies there. I wait, I'm in shock. I call out - are you OK? He moans. I get out of the car. He is lying at the side of the road, his bike in the middle, about ten yards in front of me.

Are you OK? Yes, he says, getting up. His left eye and chin have gravel grazes. His right trouser knee is torn. He is struggling to stand. Sit down, mate, I say. I'm OK, he replies. Then he keels over and hits the road face forwards, eyes going back into his head.

I call an ambulance. I think I am fairly upset at this point. I mean - it's not my fault, it's an accident, and yet it is entirely my fault. If I had set out two minutes later, he'd have reached the wider bit of road. If he'd have been concentrating, he'd not have hit the brakes so hard. If I'd decided to feed the dog before setting out to drive up to out usual walking spot, we'd never have met. He'd be OK.

It's an accident. Accidents do happen.

He comes to, he calls his wife, his daughter answers. I'm feeling terrible. There is a world of people affected by something I'm a part of - but didn't do! The ambulance comes, eventually, but by then he is lucid again, OK, though the second fall gave him matching gravel grazes on the other side of his face. He says it's OK it's not my fault. I leave him with the paramedic.

His name is Dave. He never asks mine, and in classic British style, I never offer it.

MySpace Update

I take it back. Well, not entirely. I mean, the vanity thing holds, all those famous Christians who have a MySpace notwithstanding.

But I take it back, because I have discovered all sorts of things through this experience, which are proving really worthwhile.

1. We have a star in our youth group. Matt Truelove is a 16 year old lad in our youth group, and he has an amazing singing voice. I had no idea. But on his site he has some tracks of him singing some songs, and he is genuinely great. I want to encourage him to go for it, cos I am really impressed.

2. I discovered IM - instant messaging, and have had a couple of enjoyable keyboard conversations with Karen in Maryland via IM. Anyone else out there who does this - let me know!

3. I came across the MySpace of Charlie Groves, old friend of many years ago, and he called me, woke me up yesterday morning, and we had a great chat over the phone. As he now lives in Bristol, I hope we will meet up soon.

4. Friends on MySpace are people who may be really close, or just the most casual of acquaintances. So - on my friends list are people I know really well, passing well, slightly, hardly and one or two I really know not at all. (Though we have "friends" in common, who may I guess come anywhere on that list! Chris Tomlin after all has 50,000 friends. I bet he has problems hosting a birthday bash.)

Plus, I've had fun writing the site and messing with photos. So, a pleasant diversion! Try it!

P.S.
Last night I had a sudden migraine set in. Today I have lived in semi-darkness, and it is diminishing. This is only the second bout in six or seven months, the first lasting only an evening back in November, so the current medication is doing a good job. If this calms down quickly, I remain happy. If it settles in, it will be the first prolonged bout since last summer, and that is pretty good going, and still means that I've had the longest migraine-free period for about 3 years. So I am still giving the current medication good marks. We'll see. However, it remains a bit of a shock after so many months to get such a sharp attack.

Marcus goes MySpace

It's true. Click here and see for yourself.

Last night Karen, the BBC producer, said I should get myself a MySpace site. So today I did. It feels like ultimate vanity. So make me feel better. All you fellow MySpacers out there sign up as my friends.

Anyway, a fair few friends do have sites. And some of them are geunine holy people. And what is the difference between that and this? ...Except that this gets to actually say something, and to listen to your responses, other than just advertise ME.

So I made my blurb appropriately self-deprecating in a double-bluff sort of a way.

Wracked with guilt, clearly.

Sign up, sign up!!!

Record Time

Done. At last. My computer tells me it's eleven twenty six as I start to type this on Monday evening. I've just come in, at the end of my working day.

This evening we recorded two short morning services for BBC Radio Wales. The first will be broadcast on Easter Sunday at 8am, the second on June 17th (which happens to be Father's Day - but which has nothing to do with the subject matter of the service). Both can be accessed via the web for a week after they are broadcast on the BBC Wales site - I'll post a reminder for my faithful overseas listeners!

I opened up the church at 4pm and closed it at 11.15pm. Seven hours. They started recording at 7.10pm and finished at 10.10pm, three hours. Record time I think for two broadcasts that will come in at around twenty four minutes each.

Still, if I will involve a cast of fifteen readers and twelve musicians, and ask the moon from all participating, including children, then what can I expect?

Though would you expect any less of me?

And when you hear the broadcasts, please note this: in all those voices you will hear, mine is amongst them. But only amongst them. For we are starting to be a church here where all sorts of gifts and talents and people willing to use their gifts and talents are coming to the fore. And though these are things that take work and time - they aren't half exciting.

So tonight was time to record; and now it is time to sleep.

The Camera Never Lies...

...but sometimes it has a bit of fun.

No, this is not the local council's latest attempt to remove a turbulent priest and his troublesome flock from their midst! The crane has arrived to do its work in erecting the car park next door to us, and from the right angle it appears to be encroaching upon our territory, but the Church in Wales have forbidden it to do so, and Opco (the construction company) have promised it will not, and the site manager (who is a super chap and very helpful) is making sure everything is being done properly. I think...

However, as I walked down the road this evening, the illusion of this shot was too good to pass up, and I though regular readers might enjoy it.

We were offered a significant sum of money to allow the crane to sail over our land, but the Church in Wales and I agreed that the sum offered came nowhere close to compensating us for any inconvenience we would suffer if any damage were to be done to our building. Insurance is one thing, but the hassle we'd have to put up with, and the the conservation issues raised meant that it was really a no go for us.

So they have erected the crane you see - and its tall, raised arm means it never comes over us, even though it is right next door. Watching it in action is fascinating. A bit like the aliens in War of the Worlds - and an eerily similar noise at times as it turns from one angle to the next! I hear it as I shave first thing in the morning, and hope a death ray won't come through the bathroom window...

And the whole town is finally realising that the building that will go up on that site will be really high, and that my words on the subject may not have been so exaggerated. Does that sound ever so slightly like "I told you so"? Forgive me - I think in the circumstances it isn't wholly terrible of me.

Actually, I have got used to it now. Already I am wondering how it will be a blessing for us, and how we can be a blessing to it. A huge office block/car park, the promise of more shops - this means a lot more people right next to us. In evangelism terms, that's a real gift. So: no more Mr Nasty. No more Rev Grumpy. No more Letters to the Editor.

Still,, if anyone wants to pass on this photo...

Singing and Swinging

I promised evidence of my evening with the Byron Jones Big Band. Here are a couple of blurry photos. When I've worked out how to do it, I'll add a link to YouTube for the strong of heart!

And my right leg still hasn't quite recovered from a rather energetic kick in "Ain't That A Kick in the Head". I should know better at my age.

What's funny is listening to the recording of the evening and then seeing the video footage - the songs that sound better are the ones that look dull. The ones that look better, sound pitchy. I guess I need to work on that old stagecraft thing.

Or just the singing.

Hey, I had a great time, and you never know, one of these days I might get to poison the other singers again - I mean, they might not be able to make it again, and I might be asked back!

Too Steep For Comfort

So I'm back home after a week with our parish ski holiday.

What? Your church doesn't do a ski trip? You should complain! And before you start thinking that Pontypridd is a bit more South Kensington than South Wales, I must point you to the excellent Goldhill Holidays, who provide a fantastic service at super bargain rates.

We had nothing but blue skies and sunshine, and if the snow wasn't brilliant, it wasn't bad either. At least a week in the sun has done me a power of good.

As for the skiing...

I had the enormous pleasure of ending up in the advanced class. I was the least accomplished skier in the group, and only blagged my way into it cos I felt a strong desire to really push myself way beyond my comfort zone and this seemed the best way to do it.

And it was great fun. Our tutor, a genial Scot named Andy, took us to all sorts of places I would never dream of skiing by myself, and taught bits of technique that I didn't have. We went off piste from day one on, which was a fairly new experience for me. And we started at "steep" and got steeper!

On the last day, we took the Lauberhorn chairlift. One of the girls wondered why we were doing this - because at the top there would only be two red (intermediate) runs, and one of the easiest black (advanced) runs in the resort. Not that I have never done a black run. And the World Cup course, of course. Oh my, I thought.

Shouldn't have worried. It was much worse. Andy took us off piste, across the mountain, to a slope he of which he said, "now this is steep", and everyone else agreed. Again, a moment's panic for me. I mean, it had all been steep for me, all week. Now they thought it was. Off piste, steep, and full of moguls - bumpy bits for the uninitiated. I can turn on moguls - but have only done it on gentle, shallow slopes. I can do steep - but have only done it on limited areas, not a huge mountainside that is beginning to induce (for the first time all week) a severe bout of vertigo. I can do limited amounts of off piste. But all three? On a slope that was far harder than any black run in the resort? Did I mention I have never done a black run?

Did I mention that I wanted to be pushed beyond my comfort zone? Was I getting my wish fulfilled? Careful what you ask for!

Off we went. Correction. Off they went. I am rooted to the spot in fear. The vertigo has taken hold and all the technique I ever had has simply flown out of my head. Poof. Gone. As the last bloke set off, I said, "I really can't do this." And he went.

Andy was alerted to my predicament by one of the girls. He shouted up the mountain - "Just traverse along to the right and do one long turn". I think the moguls were less severe to the right. And earlier in the week, we had done an off piste exercise where we had just pointed our skis downhill and let them take us on a slow turn out of the slope.

I hear his command. I understand it. I know I have to do something. And I have my own skis - which I know really well. I know that if I trust them, and dare to point them downhill, they won't just keep going, they will bite, they will pull me out of the fall-line and into a turn. If I snatch, I'll turn too quickly and fall. Not a good idea at this angle. I have to trust.

What would you do? The thing with trust is that until you act on it, it doesn't exist. Like it's bedfellow 'faith', you can think you have it, but until you have to use it - you don't really know.

It worked beautifully. Perfectly. I pointed my skis down the mountain, prayed hard, and executed one of the best turns I'd done all week. And I'll admit freely I was shaking all over by the time we reached the bottom, but Andy made a point of looking me in the eye and saying "you can do this" (great teaching manner that chap - full marks) so I went up again and did it again, with a lot less fear. And a third time, likewise.

Mind you, everybody went up for the fourth time - at which point I skiied past them and headed for the Start Bar and a coffee with something quite strong added. I mean, you can have too much of a good thing!

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

It's the second day of snow here in Pontypridd. The first was fun - lots of snow overnight, then pretty morning snow followed by a bit of sun, a quick thaw, a lot of fuss and nothing. Chaos and panic, the local Tesco making £50,000 extra in a day as people filled their freezers (ironically) "just in case". All my appointments for the day were cancelled as people rang up "because of the weather" - which made sense first thing, but not really by 6pm.

This morning, it's snowing again, but there is far more traffic out and about. Clearly people have had enough fun. One day off was all they needed. Or a sunny morning's snow was more appealling than actually a snowing morning to take off.

So the dog and I will stay wrapped up inside the house (pictured), waiting for enough of a break in the weather to brave it outside for a walk. He loves running in the snow - but like the rest of Pontypridd, only when it isn't actually snowing. Otherwise, it's the fireside, a favourite chair or bed for both of us.

And no appointments to cancel - Friday is my official day off in the week. So....

The weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful, and since we've no place to go - let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

A Renewing Wonder

This week has several highlights. A smattering of snow making me positively salivate as I look forward to the real thing at the end of next weekwhen I return to Switzerland, for one. Last night's outing with the Byron Jones band - a great experience, and I might write more about that another time. There is audio and visual proof!

But also two unexpected friendships have been renewed this week courtesy of Google. On the left, Chris Berryman, on the right, Jon Timmis.

Chris lives in Florida, but I knew him first in Maryland when I lived out there in 1990. The rather splendid photo is coutesy of the internet movie database - IMDB - (well, I had boasted about my CD being available on iTunes!) though I could have taken it off Signal Centers, the charity for disabled folk he works for. I almost didn't recognise him: he had a beard the last time I saw him, about a decade ago!

Jon lives in York, and we knew each other in Aberystwyth, where he helped me lead the church youth group, and where he was one of my real solid friends. Then I moved to Cambridge, he to Canterbury, other things happened. We lost touch. He found me via Google and the St Caths website. He looks a little greyer than I recall - and his photo is off his academic website at York University (which loses me at the first line, "My research interest is primarily in the area of Biologically inspired computing...")

We are just starting the process of getting back in touch. I hope it works: friendships are precious things, and renewing them a great gift. Unexpected voices from the past are a special delight. They bring back memories and shared journeys, which inevitably have different colours associated with them, and I love this.

My time in Aberystwyth was not all sunshine; nor was Jon's. A renewing of our friendship will take us there again, but also gives us a chance to be friends today, and I think for both of us today is brighter. I look forwards to this.

I haven't really been in touch with Chris since both of us were starting our adult professional lives in our late 20s. I expect we are both the same as we were and yet very different. I really look forwards to seeing how he has changed and grown, and to hear his take on me. And now that he is living quite close to my sister, I'm sure it won't be long before we actually meet up again rather than just do the email thing!

Time is a strange beast. Finding friends who have shared it and used it differently and now share it again fills me with a wonder I want to express but for which I have no words. It's a child-like joy.

Enjoying the moment

Every one needs little things to look forwards to. This week I am singing with the Byron Jones Big Band on Wednesday evening in Newport.

Byron has been running the band for years, and combines some pro musicians with some keen amateurs and some students from the music college in Cardiff. How he does it amazes me - just getting everyone together is hard enough. But finding new music, new arrangements and new musicians when needed - as well as new enthusiasm when you hear the same old excuses. I am full of admiration for him. You can read more about his band here.

Anyway - every now and then I get to sing with the band when the real singers take a night off, and this week is one such week. Thanks to the hard work of Malcolm Jenkins and the South Wales Big Band Society the band have a monthly gig at Burleigh Hall inNewport, a sort of Jazz Cafe; this is where I get my gig.

I even got a rehearsal... though I only got to sing one of the eight numbers I will be doing 'live'. I think that means Byron is happy I can do all the others. As long as he's still happy afterwards.

In a period when church life is as hectic as it gets, and when I am encouraging the guys in the church to be more involved and to be sharers of their faith, I think it really matters (a) that I have some fun, (b) that they see I have a three dimensional life, and (c) not everythingI do happens in the large Victorian building ten feet outside this study window!

Now: all I have to do is remember the words, the music, the rhythm, the keys, the arrangements, the intros, the endings, the timing, the nuance, the feeling, the swing, the...

Oh blow that. Charlie Parker speaking of jazz improvisation said: "Know the changes, forget the changes". It holds for jazz singing. Know the songs, forget the songs: enjoy the moment.

Single minded?

I had an interesting phone call yesterday.

Geoff is a local doctor, and a man on a mission. He has started a link between Pontypridd and Mbale in Uganda. We have supported this in our giving on several occasions. We have hosted joint services. He has often asked me to go over there - so far I have said no.

Yesterday he rang to ask if I was going to a meeting, and as I knew nothing about the meeting I said no. Could I send someone else, he asked?

He is like a dog with a bone. And credit to him - he has a vision for all the churches being linked with this, and indeed all the town. He has created a link between all the local GPs and even the hospital, and the local council, and is doing an amazing locality driven thing the like of which I have not previously seen. This will get you to his website so you can read more for yourself.

However, again I said no. He was clearly put out. This is a vision he has from God. I am saying no to it.

Yes, that's right.

Because I too have a vision from God, and it is a vision for my church here. And as exciting as Geoff's is, my church can't be driven by his vision. His vision doesn't get priority because it's bigger. We will join in, at the right times, in the right ways. But Geoff has no idea what is going on day to day in our church, and I can't drop things in order to make his vision our priority. His church, which meets 200 yards away from ours, has many more people and many more groups, and many more leaders; sometimes I think that bigger churches just don't understand how smaller ones work. I pray that as we grow, we will remember these stages of our life so that we can always help others along the way.

Our priority right now is to learn as a church what evangelism is. To learn how to better share our faith in Jesus with others. This is a scary thing for some, a worrisome thing for others, a fun thing for a few, and an important one for us all. The last thing I can do as pastor of this place is to say, "by the way, if anyone would rather do something else, Geoff has something that might be more fun - go and get excited by that!" And three key people go off and do so; and they come back bubbling, and create a little groundswell about that work, and before I know it, our attempts to make evangelism the centre of our life together have all but evaporated.

When I worked in Aberystwyth, Stuart Bell (the rector there) constantly frustrated people who wanted to do various exciting things. If they weren't exactly what he thought the church should be doing, he said, by all means do it, but it's not a church event or activity or programme; it's your own thing. He was single-minded. It could be so annoying!

But God blesses that place, and I do believe part of the reason God can bless that place is because Stuart is so single-minded. He knows what his vision is. He follows it. He doesn't get blown off course. I pray I may know half the blessing on my church he has on his; and that I may learn at least half the lessons in my life he has in his.

So - I'm sorry Geoff. On the phone you sounded disappointed that I wouldn't come. But I said no because I am trying to follow Jesus and grow the church here. Do I think you are following a vision from God too? Absolutely. Do I think that vision applies to and includes St Catherine's? Quite possibly. But not today. For there are days where - and as a man of vision you must surely know this - in order to see a vision come to pass, you have to be single-minded.