A Good Day

A good day!

Bruce Collins, from New Wine Cymru, came to preach here this morning, and brought some friends to pray with people during (and after) the service.

I do like Bruce - though his style occasionally scatter guns provocative thoughts round the room without pausing to check the damage (I could sense odd gasps from one or two folk), his focus is pure gold. And he gave us a great sense of expectancy in coming to Jesus for a touch of his Kingdom breaking into our lives today. Not just when we die - but real change, real healing, real authority here and now. On earth as in heaven.

His simple and engaging manner is wonderfully unthreatening, and people genuinely warmed to him. Those who queued for prayer took me by surprise - not just the usual suspects. And at this evening's service, four people spoke of real answers to those prayers - two healings, there and then (both back related - and even if they prove to be temporary relief, that was great; I hope we will see more than that) and two more inner concerns, but again met by a deep sense of the presence of God touching them and meeting them as they prayed.

To see this in our 11am service was wonderful. I always feel that a basic rule of thumb as to how much people have sensed God in a service is how quick they are out of the door: if they all run, it wasn't great; if they linger, it is because they sense Jesus here and can't bear to go. We finished way over time, and no-one left.

Though I did suggest to someone who came late and and whose car may have been blocking people in that they stayed for prayer, so that may have had an effect...

Afterwards, one couple who came with Bruce told me of two images they had about the life of the church here, and I record them on this page as much for my memory as for your information. But both struck me deeply.

The first saw the church held in cotton wool, and wondered what this was. They thought it might be that we needed care, and then saw it as showing what a place of care and gentleness the church offered.

But when they looked again, they saw that the cotton wool was in fact ermine, the base of a crown, and that this gentleness was also authority given and the power of the Lord to bless.

All through the service they had been struck by the love of the Lord in this place, and the way God's love shone through the worship. I pray that we may indeed be a gentle place of power, the Lord's servant heart shining through us to do his work here. And we will cast our golden crowns down before him, for he alone is worthy.

The second image was of a herald standing on the altar, raising a trumpet to his lips, and proclaiming God's Kingdom in our midst. We then, as a congregation, lifted the herald up, and took him out of the church into the streets of Pontypridd.

Well, I think that the lady who told me this probably wasn't aware that my head was going - that's a great understanding of euaggelion, the Greek word from which we get our word "Gospel". In St Paul's day, the "Gospel" was the announcing by a herald of the reign of a new emperor, and the idea that we have that reign proclaimed in our midst as we worship, and then we take that out from our corporate worship to our daily lives to see people affected by the reign of God around us - this is the mission of our church.

Worship, evangelism (euaggelion), compassion.


Footnote.
So I've been wrestling with stuff, as regulars know. But that Jacob story has blessing in it; and so, my friends, does mine.

Waiting for Heroes - a life in microcosm

So it's Wednesday evening and I'm waiting for Heroes to start on BBC3. We're near the end of the first season, and it's getting all exciting as the story starts to warm up to its finale.

I've enjoyed the ark of the tale, the development of characters, the basic premise and especially the pacing which has really increased in the last few weeks.

But as I'm waiting there is a programme about kids doing a talent show for aspiring classical musicians, and despite myself I get caught up in it, It's the final. There's a basoonist (like she stood a chance), a guitarist (the definition of geek in the musical world), and a pianist with a long green dress, long red hair, and a deft, romantic touch at the keyboard.

Hardly a fair competition.

Anyway, the pianist played the Shostakovich Second Piano Concerto - or at least we got to see edited highlights. Very well edited too. And I simply fell in love with the piece. There's a ballet suite by Shostakovich I love - I think it's number 4, the introduction is one of my all time favourite pieces - but on the whole I hardly rate him as someone I'd go out of my way to listen to.

And here I am, waiting for Heroes, sci-fi on TV, and finding one of the most beautiful things in music I have ever come across via a talent show.

If only it had football and Jesus in it it would be my life in microcosm.

Wrestling - further thoughts

I think I dismissed a comment from Richard too quickly the other day. He made an analogy with Wayne Rooney going through a goal drought in games but scoring freely on the practice pitch, and his point was that if we walk with Jesus day by day in the private place - if we wrestle with God when & where no-one sees - then everything else will follow. Wayne Rooney started to score again in matches.

And I am grateful for the prayers of friends and for a nature that is stubborn, and for a God more stubborn still who does not let go.

In my private moments I am reading "The Way In is the Way On", a collection of John Wimber writings to mark the tenth anniversary of his death this year. He remains I think my favourite Bible teacher, and I commend this super little book. I am only two chapters in, but I am so restored by what I am reading I cannot say. He faces my weaknesses and failings head on with a humanity and wisdom that is wonderfully godly and biblical, seeing into my heart and giving me sight of how to walk forwards from here.

To paraphrase a couple of the things which have so far struck home:

A pastor's call is not to succeed but to serve.

I got here by being forgiven, and I'll only get any further by the same route. The way in is the way on.

The book is filled with simple truths simply taught with great authority. I loved listening to John Wimber in person when I had the chance, and this book is reminding me why. He brings me closer to Jesus than most other preachers I know, and he does it be opening the Scriptures wide and clear. I miss this voice, and this book is a treat, the treat I need just now.

By the way - Richard is right. And Wimber makes the same point, though he uses more straightforwardly Biblical language and doesn't refer to Wayne Rooney:

"The results of our abiding haven't been tallied yet; however, they are being developed. The tabs are being taken daily... Day by day, week by week, and year by year, God is making something beautiful out of you and me. He is producing in us the character, qualities and fruit of our Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ...

"This is not primarily a theological discussion, but an active decision and habit of the heart."

Little Glimpses of Heaven

So I went to see Harry Connick Jr in concert at the Royal Albert Hall. Enormously pricey tickets. Great seats. Jazz has never looked so expensive - I mean, this is how jazz looks in the movies, but not in real life! Perfect spotlights cutting through the general blue haze around each soloist and putting the rest of the stage in darkness, with Harry in a follow spot so well drawn it was cartoon-like.

And jazz it was - unlike Buble who puts on an easy-listening set with his faux-big band, Harry's slightly smaller line-up (nine horns, upright bass, drums, Harry at the piano and a guest trombone soloist) was simply a very classy jazz gig. I think probably to the shock of some of the crowd - cos the CDs recently get a bit on the pop side. But even the most contemporary tracks on the CD get a makeover "live" and become jazzy, or jazz-funky, or even slightly avant garde...

Glorious.

Because it was great. Fantastic playing, immense soloing, good band work (occasionally swamped by a mix that was piano heavy) - and then Harry.

Not here the sheen and flawless perfection of Buble. But the flaws are part of the joy. The quality is in the character. The depth of musicianship. The understanding & intelligence of it all. Little glimpses of heaven in the constant riches of layers of musicality and brilliance. I loved it.

Highlights? Come By Me, Sleepy Time Down South (wow!), a frenetic Bourbon Street Parade, and then after the band had left the stage a typical encore - just the bass and the tenor sax and Harry's voice for It Had To Be You (well, it had to be, didn't it?) and stripped bare we had everything we needed and a nostalgia trip added as a bonus.

It will be a while before I see gig this good.

The video clip is from Canada three years ago. But you have to see the guy in person. Film does not begin to convey the magic. And if you have the chance - take it. I would go again right now.

Wrestling

Jacob wrestles with the angel. He is across the river from his wives and people. Some don't notice. Some gawp. Some feel the separation. One or two pray for him. One or two are embarrassed.

He is by himself with God, but not alone. Never so solitary and never so supported. Afraid and loved. He will now always bear the mark of this encounter in his body and in his naming. People will call him differently because of this struggle. (Though few - that day to this - will comprehend what went on or why.)

I am preaching regularly about commitment; about the God who calls and supplies the needs of the ones ones he calls; about the blessing of a pure and a whole heart. And as I speak the Lord tells me words I need to hear.

I do not prepare sermons for my own benefit, but I hear them.

For I am wrestling. Why? I know God is good and his ways are best. I am not fighting him; I am fighting that my life be his in every part, with integrity and honesty and without exception. That my worship not be a matter of words and music alone but of deeper harmony of life and soul and bone and marrow.

I find myself often to be basically Christian, and I do not find that to be enough. So I am wrestling. And it is lonely. And it hurts. And it is confusing. And I am not sure I always prevail. I feel like Jacob, struggling across a river from my friends, who probably have no idea how I feel or why.

I don't know why I feel this way either. But with God's help, I'm not giving in.

Is there a Doctor in the house?

So I took my nephew to see the BBC National Orchestra of Wales last night. They performed a "Halloween Spooktacular", a concert of light classics and film score bits with a seasonal slant. A screen over the stage had an owl in flight during the Harry Potter segment, a clip from Pirates of the Caribbean, and they played some incidental music from Doctor Who with the scene showing above them (my personal favourite). It was a great concert, well performed, and introduced by some children's TV person. And my nephew loved it - especially when Dracula gave hime a goody bag in the interval full of BBC NOW bits and pieces (thank you Byron!)

Clearly, here in the photo, after the show, all was mayhem, with ray guns and monsters prowling around. Some poor kid tried to make it to the safety of the TARDIS but was mercilessly gunned down by a Dalek. Enlarge the picture and you'll see his skeleton in that special x-ray light that Dalek weapons provide. Somehow I lived to tell the tale.

At least in the current climate I'm not a Spurs fan.

Family Time

Two pictures to represent two family times this week: my Gandma's 92nd birthday, and my cousin Howard's wedding.

Different sides of the family - Grandma is Mum's Mum. Suffering from cancer, and it seems pleasantly confused, she was on terrific form. Apart from a little deafness, allowable I think at such a venerable age, you would never have guessed she was in any way under best form. She was good conversation and all smiles, enjoying her meal (which she ate with gusto - especially her chocolate pudding) and we had a wonderful time together.

Gill is over from Florida with Ben, as you can see, and this photo is actually taken in the room where ten years ago we took another photo with Gill, Mum, Grandma and Ben after I had baptised Ben. He's a bit bigger now and no longer being held in his mother's arms.

Howard is Dad's nephew, his sister Judith's son. Ten years my junior, a magician, and great company. He is very much his father's son - though his Dad died I think fourteen years ago. Many people told him during the day how much he reminded them of his father, which must have been tough to hear and wonderful all at the same time. He doesn't look like Roy; but he has his confidence and ability to warm a room and welcome people in, to be the host and he certainly has his father's smile. It was a pleasure to be at his wedding.

And to see lots of family there - for I have a wonderful family. They are an eclectic and strange bunch, and I love every one of them. Some are shy, some brash, some brittle, some brassy, some funny, some dry, some long-winded, some almost silent. I love being with them. We are a Victoria Wood sketch in action. It is never dull.

And Ben maybe growing up in Florida, but he is getting the hang of it well. His Grandma asked him: "Ben, shall we go out for a meal?"

Ben: "OK".

Grandma: "Do you like Italian?"

Ben: "No."

Grandma: "What do you like then?"

Ben: "French food."

Me: "Ben - give over, stop teasing your Grandma. You've never had any French food!"

Ben: "Have too!"

Me: "What French food do you know?"

Ben: "Fries."

With which it was hard to argue.

Seeing clearly, humbly

I have upset a colleague. Goodness, I have done that enough times. This time I have upset the area dean. And other local clergy.

We are looking at re-organising parishes in our area (deanery - a collection of parishes within the diocese) as in six years time the diocese is cutting clergy numbers, and we have to work out the best way forwards. If we try to keep all the buildings and congregations we currently have, the reduced number of clergy will be running around like headless chickens, and very little ministry with vision and outreach will happen at all. If we were a rural deanery with lots of tiny villages seperated by miles of winding roads, this might be inevitable (might) but we are a town, and frankly (to adapt the old joke) wherever we are going to - you wouldn't start from here.

There are currently five parishes in this part of the deanery, with five clergy, and ten churches. In six years time that will be three clergy. And really only one town with one slightly seperate village.

Now, I'm not going into the detail of how I think it should be sorted here. In months of preparation the clergy have worked things through by themselves and finally with the archbishop. We then had a meeting with a working party including members from each parish, & this was when I was taken off guard by the area dean, who presented a plan to this group which I have never agreed to and which was superceded by the plan suggested by the archbishop. None of these groups make any decisions - these are all planning groups. Any decisions have to be taken by the parishes themselves. But as the plans we put before people shape the decisions we come to, and as I will have to guide one of the new parishes through the re-shaping and make it work, I need to believe in any plan we agree to.

So I asked why we weren't talking about Barry's plan. And that's what upset the area dean. Cos he didn't want to talk about that plan. Which I didn't know.

And next Wednesday we have our second working party meeting.

Now, I have a simple agenda for this - I could use the word vision, I think it appropriate, but as soon as I use that word I am dealing in spiritual blackmail. If I have a vision it is from God and you can't disagree with me.

I want to see clearly, humbly. I might be wrong. I do want to be put right if I am wrong. Because if I am wrong, I need to be put right before I scupper something altogether, and my opposition to the area dean's plan could do just that.

So we'll stick with the word "agenda".

This is my agenda: I want the church to grow. I want it to be about building for the future, not about preserving the past. I want it to be about people not structures. I want it to be a strong body of Christ, strongly witnessing to the love of Christ, effectively drawing others into that love. And at this point I think the Archbishop's plan achieves that better than the area dean's.

If I am wrong, then I need to see that clearly. Pray for me that I would do so.

If I am right, then I need to see that clearly, humbly. Because I will be unpopular again. And at least I should do that with humility.

Oops.

Well, I asked for it to be short. And I was kind of fed up. I mean, nothing much grows on top. I did make that comment. Tidy it up, I said. So he got out his clippers, and a moment later it was all gone.

All of it.

Oops.

I suddenly realised this was a little more severe than I intended.

Still, some will grow back. At the sides. Up my neck. And I always liked hats...

Vacanze in Italia

So here I am, outside my favourite ice cream shop in the world. Gelato, not ice cream, of course. An important and not-so-subtle difference.

What's the difference? A MacDonald's to a fillet steak. I sort of like chocolate ice cream, but from Vivoli's, I am in love with it. It is the essence of all that chocolate should be. Even from the Llanfaes Dairy, my favourite ice cream shop in the UK, I can take or leave the chocolate, and usually try something else. At Vivoli's, they have mined the essence of chocolate, its texture as well as its flavour. Shall I have the chocolate, the chocolate mousse, the chocolate mousse with coffee, the chocolate orange, and so on and so on. Anything else is hard pressed to get a look in.

Except, of course, they also do the most perfect raspberry ice cream - it's more like a sorbet in its texture, colour and the depth of its flavour, and filled with raspberry seeds. Perfect. I usually combine it with a chocolate, though for one crazy experiment I had it with Amaretto - which ended up being like the most wonderful trifle.

Yes, I flew to Florence for the gelato. Art is art, but ice cream - this is eternal.

And I did walk around to try and burn off a kilo or two of the good stuff. So this is from San Miniato al Monte, with the Duomo in the background. My good friend, and former church member here at St Catherine's Miles Maylor took the photos. He wasn't up for the ice cream, but enjoyed the city and the walking. And the one or two bits of art I let him see.

Which included the Anigoni here, my favourite painting in all Florence, which can be found in San Lorenzo. Its use of light and colour, with Joseph watching over the infant Jesus who is contemplating nails in his hands. Joseph wants to stop him, but can't - the earthly father's concern for his son is natural yet misplaced, for nails in these hands will bring ultimate joy through suffering. And over the scene, a blood-shot sky cannot hide the light that the cross will bring. It is a place of paradox and understanding, of God seeing our struggles and standing with us, though in the picture he is the small one and we the large, as so often we feel we are (and of course are not).

Then a day to San Gimignano. Yes, yes, touristville. But heaven on earth too. And a new hat, just for the trip. The main church there has stunning frescoes, which I will try and Google.

Just a short trip. But wonderful. Thank you Lord for such blessings as these.

7

Seven.

The Hebrew number for completeness, perfection.

The days in a week.

David Beckham in an England shirt.

Deadly sins.

Wonders of the world.

The smallest number that can't be represented as a sum of fewer than four non-zero squares.

The number of bones in a mammal's neck.

The number of spots on a ladybird.

The stellar objects in the solar system visible to the naked eye.

The hills of Rome. Or Bristol.

S Club.

The completed symphonies of Sibelius. Or Prokofiev, for that matter.

The number of Brides and Brothers in the 1954 musical film featuring Howard Keel.

Or Samurai, if Kurosawa is more your thing.

Or Sinners, if Marlene Dietrich does it for you.

Put a couple of noughts before it, and you have Britain's most famous Universal Export.

And of course, a recently completed series of children's novels has this many books.

And Star Trek fans are waiting for a Borg reference. I could give several. Of nine.

But really, the reason for all this is that today is the seventh anniversary of my time as vicar of St Catherine's, and though I could go all deep and theological on you - actually, I just want to be happy, and grateful. I love being here (though I'm not here - I'm on holiday!) - it is a blast. A privilege. A wonderful thing. Sure, there are moments, but I am where God has called me to be, doing what I am called to do, and that is the most that anyone can ask for. I love it.

Thank you Lord. I don't know what tomorrow holds, but for these seven years past, I am extraordinarily grateful, you have been wonderfully kind to me. I pray for dreams of what may come, and greater grace to see those dreams come to pass.

Isaiah 65.17-25

Yes Indeed!

So I am learning some new tricks. I have found a snazzy bit of software that allows me to edit snippets of video really easily (it has to be easy for me to do it!), and I am filling YouTube with bits and pieces of St Catherine's worship...

This one is a sort of "Come Holy Spirit" song, though not necessarily in the Vineyard tradition.

There are more excerpts on my MySpace page - Beautiful One and How Great Thou Art from the same evening back in November 2005, and on the St Catherine's newspage we are attaching all sorts of things... And now that I know how to do it, I have all sorts of plans to make that site well and truly multi-media!

Or for something a little different - with a gently swaying Bishop David Yeoman - try this gentle version of Chris Tomlin's excellent song:

Stoking the Embers

I've been meaning to write more about The Furnace week at New Wine Cymru. But in all honesty, it's still eluding me a little.

I think it is because it was a week that took me entirely by surprise, and as a result I am having difficulty in processing it.

I mean, when the expectation and the experience are connected, it is easy to find a suitable place in one's heart or mind or whichever internal filing system is appropriate for the occasion. It can be locked away in the right place. Like Mary, we can ponder it when time permits, and (perhaps less like Mary, but more like normal life) make it a part of us in easily digestible bits.

When the expectation and the experience bear no resemblance, this ain't so easy.

I went to Furnace without high hopes. Some vision, some excitement, but not a lot. The previous year (and every other time I'd had anything to do with Flames of Fire) had sort of innoculated me against it. I was glad some of the church were going; we'd be OK together - I could escape to them. There would be good stuff along the way (with people like Bruce Collins and Kenny Borthwick how could there not?) but I had no idea how my bit would go, or if many would come, or how my team would do, or anything really. Yes, I had low hopes.

And it was amazing.

I was blown away.

Day by day.

There were times of worship where God was powerfully present, and I just needed to dance for joy. Never mind the kids from our youth group standing there, looking. I just needed to dance for joy. I can't remember the last time that was true. I thought I was too old for that sort of thing! I used to dance at Soul Survivor or Delirious gigs, but this year at the Furnace, I was just filled with so much sheer pleasure at being in the Lord's presence, at the freedom of having such music and such songs, and such a chance to let my spirit soar, I had to dance. I tried not to. It didn't work.

I could see young people catching a glimpse of the possibilities of letting Christ in: words and healings and praying and talking and sharing and learning together. And I remembered that I enjoyed working with this age range. There is a yearning in me, because coming here has been about giving this up, and yet I enjoy this work. So much. The choices and the influences and the time to make right decisions. Lives won in these days for Jesus - oh, what a privilege.

Always a privilege. Maybe again, some time. After all, we have our youth group, and a few students, and the thing I am reminded of is that the words spoken here at these times are key words, not to be wasted, with the Lord blessing those who will listen and follow and those who will guide and show the way.

And I met some wonderful people. Gary and the Ignite team. Diana in the cafe. Andy Booth - heart of gold. Tim our sound man, whose efforts become more and more super-human the more I think about it! Lord, bless these people, and give me grace to keep contact with them.

And above all, I am left exhausted by grace. By God's generous gift of that week. And my gratitude in return is feeble and weak, but true. I am grateful to have been there. It was awesome.

Burning Bush

Click here for a fascinating article in the Times about George W Bush and his public statements about Christian faith.

The comments which follow the statements are a mish-mash of anti-Christian and anti-church-and-state polemic, but the 50 chosen comments from Bush are revealing in all sorts of ways.

Some are just silly.

Despite myself I enjoyed the idea of him denouncing anti-Catholic "bigacy". (Is that the idea that the Protestant denominations get more people attending? We're "bigger" than you?)

And he's probably right to say Osama bin Laden wouldn't really enjoy Hanukkah.

There is also a confusion of culture and faith - though he claims that Freedom isn't America's gift to the world - it is God's (or the Almighty's, or an Almighty's), the terms of that gift sometimes sound very "American Christian" - the alternative being either an aside, an add-on or false religion.

And of course, lots of Christians all over the world want to support a Christian man in George's position but find themselves wincing and running for cover every time he opens his mouth on the subject, as he fails to explain everything from why they switched from an Episcopalian to a Methodist church, to then being recorded on another occasion as saying, "I don't think you order suiciders to kill innocent men, women, and children if you're a religious person". Not suiciders, just regular forces, then it's OK for a religious person to issue those orders.

We wonder - is he for real - faithwise? I pray so. I think. I could not wish him not to be. But he will have to answer for what he has done. As we all will. Though most of us have not had the world's fate and the lives of millions dependent on our judgement and malapropisms, which in that context lose their humour.

A serviceman home on R&R from Iraq this week told me that the place was death and destruction everywhere - worse than he had ever seen it. I had a cold call from a stationery salesman on Wednesday - an ex-serviceman who left the miltary after his wife gave birth to their first daughter earlier this year. He told the same tale - pointlessness and mayhem and soldiers obeying orders that mean nothing.

So I think I pray that George W Bush is for real, faithwise. Because he is beyond a joke for me as I watch families here sweat it out as their boys serve out there in Bush and Blair's warzone, with too many dying for the vanity and stupidity of leaders who mouth statements of faith as if it lets them off the hook. It does not.

We who live by faith don't find you funny, George; just plain offensive. And the less you talk about God, the better that might be for everyone.

Basis of Faith

I've just received a very kind invitation to speak at the CU of the local university. It's the first time I've been able to do this, though I've been asked before. And they sent me a copy of the Doctrinal Basis (DB) of the UCCF, the parent body of all university Christian Unions to sign - which happens to all speakers. It's to make sure we will be Biblical, and fair enough. I used to be Vice-President of the OICCU (Oxford Inter-Collegiate Christian Union) back when the dinosaurs roamed the earth, and I appreciate the way of these things, even if a part of me wants to ask "You questioning how Biblical I am?" in a sort of Mafia voice.

The thing is, just to make sure that when you sign it you are agreeing with it, the good people at the University of Glamorgan CU, or (for all I know) UCCF generally these days have added a line. And I can't sign the line they have added. For a look at the UCCF Doctrinal Basis click here. It's quite a reformed Protestant document, and although the emphasis it places on certain things might not be my emphasis, and although I might then be interpreting things slightly differently to the way the writers would want me to, word for word, I can agree with everything there. Evangelicalism is a big ship; imporatantly the DB recognises this at the top by stating that the Scriptural truths we follow "include" those laid down here. That is, this is not a complete list.

So - if baptism matters a whole lot to you, well, it isn't here. And if predestination is a key doctrine, then I'm sorry but that's not here either. Why? Because within evangelicalism there are different takes on these major theological ideas, and UCCF wants the whole evangelical family to be playing its part in the evangelism of the student world which is its raison d'etre.

For me, there is a bigger, more fundamental idea that is absent from the DB. An idea so huge that it makes me want to say that without it, I fear any staement of Christian belief is at the very least left wanting, certainly sub-Biblical and possibly even a bit less than Christian.

St Paul says "If I...have not love, I am nothing." And this DB has no love. It never mentions it. Never in the sense of God's love - John 3.16, "for God so loved the world..", Romans 5.8 - "God demonstrates his own love for us in this..."; nor in the sense of our worshipful response of loving God and neighbour, the Greatest Command that Jesus gives us in Matthew 22.37-40. Love is absent here, and I find that hard.

But it shouldn't stop me signing, right?

Wrong.

Because that extra line that somebody has added to the UCCF Doctrinal Basis reads as follows: I agree wholeheartedly with the statements above, and consider this an accurate reflection of my own statement of faith.

An accurate reflection of my own statement of faith has to have room for the love of God, and for my love in return. The whole weight of my understanding of Scripture demands it. I come to God no other way than in amazed and grateful love for the one who amazingly, generously, constantly, and seemingly without reason loves me. From the first to the final page of the Bible I read of no other God than this God of love, and his love compels me, draws me, vivifies me; he overwhelms me and embraces me and fills my mind and my heart; his love feeds me, then gives me water to drink which in turn becomes the richest wine and makes me heady, intoxicated with the grandeur and splendour and simplicity and wonder of his love.

So I have written back. And asked for that line to be taken away. So I can sign the rest and go speak to these guys on a marvellous chapter of Mark's Gospel.

I could just cross my fingers and ignore it. But you know me and words. They matter. It's an integrity thing. A small matter. But I cannot sign something which purports to accurately reflect my faith and yet omits the word "love", I simply cannot.

(The next day)

I received a lovely email from the secretary at the CU, generously agreeing with me and apologising for that extra line. She doesn't know how it got there either, and has removed it for me - and for all other speakers who might just have more to their faith than the UCCF Doctrinal Basis allows for.

It's an interesting question: if you were to write a document stating the essentials of Christian faith, what would have to be included? And what, from the UCCF list, would not be there? There are things in the UCCF statement which are not on my essentials list (the hard liners are never happy with my finding a Biblical emphasis on Salvation rather than condemnation, and my not seeing the necessity to mention the two always in the same sentence) but which I am happy to nod along to (in a theologically concerned way, observing that Biblical metaphor expresses Scriptural truth so that when I see the word "condemn" I don't have a concept of pitch forks and flames anywhere near my mind). And clearly from all this something I regard as essential - indeed, foundational to the very character of God and our relationship with him - is omitted from the UCCF list. Anything you want to add?

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.