I've been on an iTunes drive. My PC has died, and now my laptop is ill, so a new computer is in the offing - and in the meantime, I've been letting my iPhone take the strain. As it won't actually sync with this laptop, I've had to buy some new music. Hence, iTunes...
OK. I'll start with the worship stuff. Then some jazz. And finally a classical blitz.
A couple of years back I bought (and genuinely loved) Chris Tomlin's Hello Love. I still listen to this a lot, and it's now available here with JD Walt's My Beloved as a bonus track - a song we use a lot. Beautiful. The whole album is just great. So I bought the follow-up, And If Our God Is For Us with high hopes. Always a mistake. Some of it sounds good, but pretty much all of it sounds bland. I mean, the title track is monumental in a monumental kind of way - but can I remember a single tune? When I listen to it, do I think, "We must sing this at church?" No and no. With the previous album, I not only thought "Yes!" but we actually do sing the songs.
Still full of hope, I followed up this purchase with Here For You from the Passion movement in the States - think Soul Survivor with accents - as I'd seen that early sales had sent it to no.11 in the Billboard charts, so it must be good, right? Chris Tomlin headlines, but there are lots of other guys in the mix.
Well, it's more varied than AIOGIFU, (not a tough ask), but again I was disappointed. I remember buying the Passion album with How Great is Our God on it & thinking, "Wow! So 'live' worship albums can sound really good!" This sounds really...the same. I guess I will listen when I need background worshippy type stuff. Maybe you had to be there. Maybe I'm just too old.
And then along comes a contemporary worship album that tells me I'm not too old for something if it's good. Lovely lovely Tim Hughes. Love Shine Through is not consistant. It isn't brilliant from start to finish. But it's title track does show Chris Tomlin just how to sound monumental and memorable all at the same time. And it's opener Counting on Your Name (you get it several times on the Deluxe version) has a typically strong hook on an album that is all about the hook (and I'm tempted simply to list nearly every chorus). Though for me it's the softer tracks that catch me - often the way with Tim's writing. Keep the Faith is a gem. The gentler version of At Your Name is beautiful - though both versions raise a pet peeve of mine. Please, Yahweh is not God's name and there's no reason to spoil a wonderful song with such awful cod-theology. Yahweh is an anglicisation of an unpronouncable word too holy to say or sing. If you want a name for God, try Jesus - there is no other name given to us. Yahweh is theological balderdash. And though I will use this song, sorry Tim - it will need a re-write just here.
Apologies. I'll get off my high horse. Because this is a great worship album, and you should have a copy. Now.
Another record on my iPod comes from 1953. I had bought a brand new big band recording, The Syd Lawrence Orchestra's Night at the Movies. Hmm. It sounds great on some equipment and OK on others, which happens, and at times I want to turn the vibrato on the trumpets off and then add a little to the trombones, and just occasionally I wish they'd splashed out on a real male singer... I love these guys. They are a great touring band. and the best of this album (for me Marcel McTattie LeCoq) swings magnificently - and yet I kind of come away wanting, you know, a bit more?
Which is what I got from my 1953 album. A 'live' recording of Ted Heath & His Music At the London Palladium in the days when Decca knew how to record a big band. Who cares it's in mono? It is amazingly recorded. The band is phenomenal. Each soloist superb. Ronnie Verrell on drums a powerhouse. A mix of swing, be-bop, ballads and all-round big band jazz pleasure, this is how to do it. The Champ & The Hawk Talks stand out for me - but then so does every track. At around £4 as an introduction to British Big Band music - buy it. It's not the easiest listen, but it's great. I actually own the 1953 LP for this, as my dad bought it back in the day, and I snaffled it off him. The download misses out all the crackles but none of the the fizz!
Talking ancient history, the very first classical LP I ever bought was Mozart Symphonies 40 & 41. The very first classical LP I ever bought & enjoyed was Beethoven Piano Concerto no 5. That version, by Robert Casadesus with George Szell & the Cleveland Orchestra is only available on download as part of a huge set - I have it on CD and wasn't about to get all of that for my iPhone. But I read a review in the Telegraph of a new recording by Yevgeny Sudbin with the Minnesota Orchestra, and so acquired that instead. Coupled with the 4th Concerto, it is lively, refreshing, occasionally surprising & though it will never replace Casadesus in my heart, it's a very good version.
Finally (for now - you always think of something else with iTunes - it's a blessing & a curse) I've just bought tickets to go see my favourite opera at Welsh National come the end of May. Turandot. There are many, many recordings of this available, but one stands head and shoulders above the rest. It's forty years old and will probably remain the standard for some time. Shamefully, I bought the highlights not the whole opera, but the highlights disc has the concert ending to Nessun Dorma, which feels great in the car! Joan Sutherland, singing Turandot, a role she never sang on stage, is glorious - powerful, beautiful, glorious. Montserrat Caballe as Liu occasionally sounds a little too like Sutherland, but this is power casting. And then there is the youthful Pavarotti at his very, very best, turning in a sensational Calaf. Zubin Mehta conducts - I saw him once run the pit at Florence, and despite an all-star cast there, it was the orchestra I remember. Occasionally that happens here. The London Philharmonic turn in an astoundingly ravishing performance, again brilliantly recorded by Decca (not just good at big bands).
Hmm. You know, I think I worshipped a lot more to the Puccini than the Tomlin? Sorry. My heart leapt and soared and my face beamed with joy as I drove along. Not that I thought much of Giacomo's stuff would do for the congregation... And maybe I need to put a lock on my iTunes account before I think of something else - oh, hang on...
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
giving up
What are you giving up for Lent? I am afraid I rather detest this question. My favourite answer came on my facebook page when one person simply said "I'm just giving up..."
The idea that life with the God of creation is somehow better understood by eating less chocolate seems to me absurd. There, I've said it. Strike me down. File me with "Rob Bell".
So - do I ignore Lent? Do I think the seasons of the Church's year are no more than a bit of alternative colourwash in the clerical calendar?
Far from it.
I simply want to remember that righteousness is never primarily about the stuff we do, but always at heart about the relationships we embrace. Are we right with God? Right with those around us? This is the heart of righteousness - right relationships. And seldom does the quantity of chocolate consumed materially affect these.
Lent is a "back to basics" season - not for "giving things up" but for "stripping things away" in order to reveal what is really true.
Is my life with God for real or for show? Does my life begin to match my words? Am I still seeking him with all my heart? And yes, it may take some doing to reveal these truths - some peeling back the layers. OK.
Jesus goes into the desert and fasts for 40 days & nights. He is hungry. No wonder - I'm hungry when I've fasted for 40 minutes. And the first question that gets thrown at him is all about righteousness. Relationship. The core of life.
"If you are the Son of God, come on, use a bit of that power for yourself and let's see this stone become bread. Where's the harm? You're worth it."
A different wilderness, a different time. Stones, loneliness, hunger, fear. Voices crying out in doubt and complaint. And God speaks to feed his children. Day by day over decades, though the children waver and wander in their life with God, God never falters and every morning provides manna to sustain the people he loves.
But this man isn't just one of the children. He is the Son. The Royal Son, the King, the one whom the Psalmist says will always use his power to deliver the needy, to protect the weak, to rescue them from violence and oppression. And he knows who he is, and the Father he can trust, and the people he will serve and love.
"Nice try," he replies. "But I've been here, what - nearly two months? Do you know the story of the people who were watched over for nearly two generations? They were tested, humbled - and fed day by day to learn that we don't live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord."
Stripped of family, friends, crowds, support, everything comfortable and familiar, Jesus was who he was. He has no need of that "if". He knows God loves him. He is in the right place with him. And he knows his role is to use his power for others, not himself. He is in the right place with us. There, in the private place, where no-one can see.
Of course, there is one other occasion he gets that "If you are the Son of God" thing thrown at him. Nailed to two planks of wood, with criminals likewise skewered either side of him, a crowd beying for his blood and priests and soldiers taunting him, again a voice calls out - "If you are the Son of God..." and again, it mocks him, pushing him to use that power for his own benefit, "Come down from the cross!"
Lent is a time to strip life back. To find out who we really are. If possible to do it in the private place. Because one day we may be sorely tried in the most public of arenas, and if we haven't learned to be someone who loves God and who loves the people he loves when there is no cost, we won't stand much of a chance passing the test on that far harder day.
So. I'm eating my chocolate. And keeping up with friends on facebook. Tomorrow night I'll be at the pub quiz. And I am also praying that this year I might be a better person than last year, and next year a better person than this - that at my core I might be someone right with God and right with those around me, loving, serving, and learning to be a bit more like Jesus.
The surface is what it is, and I'll enjoy it as much as the next bloke; but strip it away, and who am I at my core? That's the question of Lent.
The idea that life with the God of creation is somehow better understood by eating less chocolate seems to me absurd. There, I've said it. Strike me down. File me with "Rob Bell".
So - do I ignore Lent? Do I think the seasons of the Church's year are no more than a bit of alternative colourwash in the clerical calendar?
Far from it.
I simply want to remember that righteousness is never primarily about the stuff we do, but always at heart about the relationships we embrace. Are we right with God? Right with those around us? This is the heart of righteousness - right relationships. And seldom does the quantity of chocolate consumed materially affect these.
Lent is a "back to basics" season - not for "giving things up" but for "stripping things away" in order to reveal what is really true.
Is my life with God for real or for show? Does my life begin to match my words? Am I still seeking him with all my heart? And yes, it may take some doing to reveal these truths - some peeling back the layers. OK.
Jesus goes into the desert and fasts for 40 days & nights. He is hungry. No wonder - I'm hungry when I've fasted for 40 minutes. And the first question that gets thrown at him is all about righteousness. Relationship. The core of life.
"If you are the Son of God, come on, use a bit of that power for yourself and let's see this stone become bread. Where's the harm? You're worth it."
A different wilderness, a different time. Stones, loneliness, hunger, fear. Voices crying out in doubt and complaint. And God speaks to feed his children. Day by day over decades, though the children waver and wander in their life with God, God never falters and every morning provides manna to sustain the people he loves.
But this man isn't just one of the children. He is the Son. The Royal Son, the King, the one whom the Psalmist says will always use his power to deliver the needy, to protect the weak, to rescue them from violence and oppression. And he knows who he is, and the Father he can trust, and the people he will serve and love.
"Nice try," he replies. "But I've been here, what - nearly two months? Do you know the story of the people who were watched over for nearly two generations? They were tested, humbled - and fed day by day to learn that we don't live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord."
Stripped of family, friends, crowds, support, everything comfortable and familiar, Jesus was who he was. He has no need of that "if". He knows God loves him. He is in the right place with him. And he knows his role is to use his power for others, not himself. He is in the right place with us. There, in the private place, where no-one can see.
Of course, there is one other occasion he gets that "If you are the Son of God" thing thrown at him. Nailed to two planks of wood, with criminals likewise skewered either side of him, a crowd beying for his blood and priests and soldiers taunting him, again a voice calls out - "If you are the Son of God..." and again, it mocks him, pushing him to use that power for his own benefit, "Come down from the cross!"
Lent is a time to strip life back. To find out who we really are. If possible to do it in the private place. Because one day we may be sorely tried in the most public of arenas, and if we haven't learned to be someone who loves God and who loves the people he loves when there is no cost, we won't stand much of a chance passing the test on that far harder day.
So. I'm eating my chocolate. And keeping up with friends on facebook. Tomorrow night I'll be at the pub quiz. And I am also praying that this year I might be a better person than last year, and next year a better person than this - that at my core I might be someone right with God and right with those around me, loving, serving, and learning to be a bit more like Jesus.
The surface is what it is, and I'll enjoy it as much as the next bloke; but strip it away, and who am I at my core? That's the question of Lent.
Wednesday, March 02, 2011
a secular state?
A couple of days ago, the press was filled with stories such as "Foster parent ban: 'No Place' in law for Christianity, court rules" - Daily Telegraph. A couple from Derby had gone to the High Court to seek clarification with Derby Council as to whether they could still be foster parents in the light of different equalities legislation, which preserve rights of religious freedom and sexual orientation.
The organisation which sponsored the couple through the court, the Christian Legal Centre, has a very efficient press arm, and it seems that most of the subsequent reporting came from their press releases. Because that story in the Telegraph bears a great resemblance to the CLC website report, but not to the facts.
Gavin Drake reports an alternative line in his blog; the Church Mouse has some useful information on the actual ruling. It seems, in fact, no ruling was actually made. The judges would not make a decision on a hypothetical issue, would not make a blanket judgement on a very technical and issue-specific question, and were critical of both parties for not even being able to agree on the questions they were raising before them.
That being said, they did say some interesting things about the place of faith in the law. The line that there is no place for faith in the law is inaccurate; they were quite clear - all people are equal and must be seen as such. But they were also clear that no-one has a privileged position because of their faith, no-one can claim superior standing because of their faith. This would be theocracy, and not the kind of state in which we live. Faith (for sure) is protected; but the content of faith (any faith) may indeed be questioned by the law. That is uncomfortable for people in a world where values are set in all kinds of ways - and yet I find this still encouraging, and essentially Christian.
It's a question of priorities. Which is more important here: that all people are made in the image of God, that in Christ there is no male or female, slave or free, that we worship a Lord who eats with sinners and tax collectors to demonstrate that they too are children of Abraham - or that we should have a right to a moral code that effectively makes some people second class? The judges were keen to point out that no-one was being called a bigot, but the CLC are almost pathological in their attempts to make all Christians appear to be such - and as such, are achieving a far less Christian standard for the church in the public eye than the High Court granted a couple of days ago. The content of a faith that goes on making some people second class needs to be challenged. And don't you dare fire off at me with, "But the Bible says..." because if you do, you are saying that the Bible contradicts itself, and that the principles with which I began this paragraph (clear, obvious Biblical principles) are at best secondary to a couple of random verses about a moral issue that has hardly any weight at all in the pages of the Bible. Perhaps rather we need to work a bit harder at understanding those couple of verses, and see better how they fit into the general swathe of God's Word.
And perhaps also the world can do the Church the occasional favour. We are an obtuse and bizarre lot. As I pointed out last time! Loving people, doing good and finding friends everywhere (rather than making random or even rather specific enemies) seems to me quite a good aim for the Church. If the world refuses to allow us the safety of hiding behind the barricades of the past, it might make us better at living out the love of Jesus today. Engaging with his world. His mission. His way. I find in the words of the non-ruling that I have read nothing for any of us to fear, no advance of secularism, but more a reminder that fiddling whilst Rome burns is never attractive.
A secular state? Bring it on; I'm afraid it feels more Christian than the alternative promulgated by those who have taken our Lord's name upon themselves in their press release about this court case.
The organisation which sponsored the couple through the court, the Christian Legal Centre, has a very efficient press arm, and it seems that most of the subsequent reporting came from their press releases. Because that story in the Telegraph bears a great resemblance to the CLC website report, but not to the facts.
Gavin Drake reports an alternative line in his blog; the Church Mouse has some useful information on the actual ruling. It seems, in fact, no ruling was actually made. The judges would not make a decision on a hypothetical issue, would not make a blanket judgement on a very technical and issue-specific question, and were critical of both parties for not even being able to agree on the questions they were raising before them.
That being said, they did say some interesting things about the place of faith in the law. The line that there is no place for faith in the law is inaccurate; they were quite clear - all people are equal and must be seen as such. But they were also clear that no-one has a privileged position because of their faith, no-one can claim superior standing because of their faith. This would be theocracy, and not the kind of state in which we live. Faith (for sure) is protected; but the content of faith (any faith) may indeed be questioned by the law. That is uncomfortable for people in a world where values are set in all kinds of ways - and yet I find this still encouraging, and essentially Christian.
It's a question of priorities. Which is more important here: that all people are made in the image of God, that in Christ there is no male or female, slave or free, that we worship a Lord who eats with sinners and tax collectors to demonstrate that they too are children of Abraham - or that we should have a right to a moral code that effectively makes some people second class? The judges were keen to point out that no-one was being called a bigot, but the CLC are almost pathological in their attempts to make all Christians appear to be such - and as such, are achieving a far less Christian standard for the church in the public eye than the High Court granted a couple of days ago. The content of a faith that goes on making some people second class needs to be challenged. And don't you dare fire off at me with, "But the Bible says..." because if you do, you are saying that the Bible contradicts itself, and that the principles with which I began this paragraph (clear, obvious Biblical principles) are at best secondary to a couple of random verses about a moral issue that has hardly any weight at all in the pages of the Bible. Perhaps rather we need to work a bit harder at understanding those couple of verses, and see better how they fit into the general swathe of God's Word.
And perhaps also the world can do the Church the occasional favour. We are an obtuse and bizarre lot. As I pointed out last time! Loving people, doing good and finding friends everywhere (rather than making random or even rather specific enemies) seems to me quite a good aim for the Church. If the world refuses to allow us the safety of hiding behind the barricades of the past, it might make us better at living out the love of Jesus today. Engaging with his world. His mission. His way. I find in the words of the non-ruling that I have read nothing for any of us to fear, no advance of secularism, but more a reminder that fiddling whilst Rome burns is never attractive.
A secular state? Bring it on; I'm afraid it feels more Christian than the alternative promulgated by those who have taken our Lord's name upon themselves in their press release about this court case.
Monday, February 28, 2011
born again
Last night we had a lovely service here at St Catherine's. We worshipped God in song and word and prayer. The format of our evening service is kind of vaguely based around the CofE's Evening Prayer, but I do mean vaguely, with quite a lot of contemporary worship songs and the odd hymn thrown in, and in keeping with the size of the congregation we are usually led by a single guitar or keyboard.
I preached on Revelations 4, and picked a verse in particular that I used to show how God reveals himself as the God who keeps his promises, who honours the humble, who never forgets, and I took stuff from Genesis, Exodus and Isaiah along the way to help us see how the picture was built up. We worshipped Jesus. It was gentle but rather moving.
There was a visitor present. Someone I did not know. I spoke to him afterwards. He came from another church, and having seen us worship together, having prayed with us and dwelt with us in God's presence, and having heard me preach, he asked me:
O God, how terrible we are. We all do it. We see others and point the finger, but we all do it. Right now, the blogosphere and twitter are filled with people passing comment on Rob Bell's new book, Love Wins. Is it going to be the best thing ever, or total heresy? Respectable writers have trashed Rob Bell without having read a word of the book. Rob is here in the UK in April, and I hope to hear him speak on the book. I look forwards to reading it, and to his views on what the Bible says about heaven and hell. I have no idea whether I will agree or not! But I look forwards to listening.
Last year, I was told I was to hear one of the top ten preachers in the US, and rolled my eyes. Then I rolled up to chapel at Asbury Seminary with little expectation, and found myself moved and deeply struck by the words of Tom Long. He has recently published a book on funerals. Accompany Them With Singing is simply brilliant. Phenomenally Christian, well written and with a profound sense of resurrection godliness, this is an essential book for anyone who takes funerals. I wish I had had it fifteen years ago.
Why do we judge others so quickly when God has made us all so wonderfully? Just a little time, and a bit more grace... We might discover that the words we use, the code we demand, the lenses through which we delight to see this world are not the only God-given gifts. And don't get uppity with me; if anyone of you for a moment is thinking "but I see the world through Scriptural lenses" the problem is - that man who came to St Catherine's last night does too. But couldn't see Jesus all around him. The Bible is too big for my eyes to see through all of it at once; kindness allows that my neighbour may also have Scripture vision - though from a different page. And rolling with the kindness, well, it may take us places where we end up shaking our heads; or it may bless us beyond.
I preached on Revelations 4, and picked a verse in particular that I used to show how God reveals himself as the God who keeps his promises, who honours the humble, who never forgets, and I took stuff from Genesis, Exodus and Isaiah along the way to help us see how the picture was built up. We worshipped Jesus. It was gentle but rather moving.
There was a visitor present. Someone I did not know. I spoke to him afterwards. He came from another church, and having seen us worship together, having prayed with us and dwelt with us in God's presence, and having heard me preach, he asked me:
"Are you born again?"I kind of wanted to ask where had had been for the last hour and a half. What he had heard. What he had seen. But I was quietened by a gentle voice in my ear, so I simply smiled and said, "Yes". He pressed me - he wanted a testimony, the story of my conversion. I told him of how I was invited to the school CU by a friend, and how that lunchtime changed my life. This satisfied him. I passed the test - I had the right language, I said the right things.
O God, how terrible we are. We all do it. We see others and point the finger, but we all do it. Right now, the blogosphere and twitter are filled with people passing comment on Rob Bell's new book, Love Wins. Is it going to be the best thing ever, or total heresy? Respectable writers have trashed Rob Bell without having read a word of the book. Rob is here in the UK in April, and I hope to hear him speak on the book. I look forwards to reading it, and to his views on what the Bible says about heaven and hell. I have no idea whether I will agree or not! But I look forwards to listening.
Last year, I was told I was to hear one of the top ten preachers in the US, and rolled my eyes. Then I rolled up to chapel at Asbury Seminary with little expectation, and found myself moved and deeply struck by the words of Tom Long. He has recently published a book on funerals. Accompany Them With Singing is simply brilliant. Phenomenally Christian, well written and with a profound sense of resurrection godliness, this is an essential book for anyone who takes funerals. I wish I had had it fifteen years ago.
Why do we judge others so quickly when God has made us all so wonderfully? Just a little time, and a bit more grace... We might discover that the words we use, the code we demand, the lenses through which we delight to see this world are not the only God-given gifts. And don't get uppity with me; if anyone of you for a moment is thinking "but I see the world through Scriptural lenses" the problem is - that man who came to St Catherine's last night does too. But couldn't see Jesus all around him. The Bible is too big for my eyes to see through all of it at once; kindness allows that my neighbour may also have Scripture vision - though from a different page. And rolling with the kindness, well, it may take us places where we end up shaking our heads; or it may bless us beyond.
Monday, February 21, 2011
beautiful
It's always a pleasure to renew friendships, even when there has been no time at all lost in the inbetween of life. Matt Truelove is a young guy who was a part of our youth group at St Catherine's, and who has now found more people his own age (and a girlfriend) in another local church so we don't see so much of him here these days. But when I do see him, it's always a pleasure. You may remember that three minute portrait of me - he did that; and he filmed my old Do You Not Know song a couple of months back. Actually, further back, if you are one of the 11,296 (and counting) people who have watched my MGQ boogie-woogie take on Chris Tomilin's Forever, Matt filmed that too.
Which is kind of embarrassing, because frankly, Matt Truelove is one of the best singer songwriters I know. He has a wonderful, yearning voice that has an amazing range, and his songs are simply beautiful.
Click and listen to his song Your Love - it could simply be a love song, or it could be a wonderfully intimate worship piece. I asked him to sing it as the latter at our Carol Service. I'm listening to it again as I type this - just beautiful, and "live" it was even more amazing.
Speaking of beautiful... We had Cafe Church last night, and I talked Matt into coming back to St Catherine's and joining with me for the evening, leading worship alongside me, and singing a few songs solo. I must say it was a real joy to play together - musically & for the spiritual kick of it. there was a genuine sense of understanding in what we were doing, and I took a great deal of pleasure from that. When Matt was a lot younger, I gave him a few pointers in playing for worship; he has learned well, and I know all of us benefitted from his maturity. One of the songs he then chose to sing alone was Phil Wickham's Beautiful. I took out my iPhone and videoed it. Here it is.
Afterwards, a few of us went for a drink, and then Matt & I chatted some more. Friendship renewed and deepened. It was a delight & a privilege having him here, and I look forwards to more of the same down the road. My Sunday was made quite special by the chance to worship alongside someone I have known for ages & whom I have grown to trust and respect.
Which is kind of embarrassing, because frankly, Matt Truelove is one of the best singer songwriters I know. He has a wonderful, yearning voice that has an amazing range, and his songs are simply beautiful.
Click and listen to his song Your Love - it could simply be a love song, or it could be a wonderfully intimate worship piece. I asked him to sing it as the latter at our Carol Service. I'm listening to it again as I type this - just beautiful, and "live" it was even more amazing.
Speaking of beautiful... We had Cafe Church last night, and I talked Matt into coming back to St Catherine's and joining with me for the evening, leading worship alongside me, and singing a few songs solo. I must say it was a real joy to play together - musically & for the spiritual kick of it. there was a genuine sense of understanding in what we were doing, and I took a great deal of pleasure from that. When Matt was a lot younger, I gave him a few pointers in playing for worship; he has learned well, and I know all of us benefitted from his maturity. One of the songs he then chose to sing alone was Phil Wickham's Beautiful. I took out my iPhone and videoed it. Here it is.
Afterwards, a few of us went for a drink, and then Matt & I chatted some more. Friendship renewed and deepened. It was a delight & a privilege having him here, and I look forwards to more of the same down the road. My Sunday was made quite special by the chance to worship alongside someone I have known for ages & whom I have grown to trust and respect.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
a thing of wonder
So I went to Die Fledermaus at Welsh National Opera tonight. Great. Great orchestra, good singing, fun evening. Soprano didn't have all the high notes. Enjoyed it. Excellent seat. Fig ice cream in the interval.
And I got an email that I think ends a long running saga and will sort out an issue that needs sorting out.
And OF (the training I do in the park) was fantastic all week, with this morning feeling like Spring is on its way. Good bunch of people - I so enjoy being with them.
But that's not the photo. In the Manchester Derby, Wayne Rooney scored a wonder goal. A wonder goal because of its skill. A wonder goal because of its intuitive audacity. A wonder goal because people have been moaning about how he's not the Rooney of old - and that's the way to silence critics. A wonder goal because context is all, and big matches deserve big goals. A wonder goal because it won a good game decisively and defeated a team that had been on the up.
Fast passing movement, a flick out wide, a good pass into the centre, and Rooney launched himself up & over into the kind of bicycle kick that almost never works. But this did.
A night out at the Opera. A problem solved. Sunshine & warmth after the cold & the wet. A wonder goal at Old Trafford. I have a smile on my face & gratitude in my heart. God is good.
And I got an email that I think ends a long running saga and will sort out an issue that needs sorting out.
And OF (the training I do in the park) was fantastic all week, with this morning feeling like Spring is on its way. Good bunch of people - I so enjoy being with them.
But that's not the photo. In the Manchester Derby, Wayne Rooney scored a wonder goal. A wonder goal because of its skill. A wonder goal because of its intuitive audacity. A wonder goal because people have been moaning about how he's not the Rooney of old - and that's the way to silence critics. A wonder goal because context is all, and big matches deserve big goals. A wonder goal because it won a good game decisively and defeated a team that had been on the up.
Fast passing movement, a flick out wide, a good pass into the centre, and Rooney launched himself up & over into the kind of bicycle kick that almost never works. But this did.
A night out at the Opera. A problem solved. Sunshine & warmth after the cold & the wet. A wonder goal at Old Trafford. I have a smile on my face & gratitude in my heart. God is good.
Sunday, February 06, 2011
give my regards to Mr & Mrs Broadway
Yesterday I stood before Mark & Bianca Broadway and took them through these moments. I saw their faces and their hearts, and heard their promises and their desires. I watched their hands and their futures take hold of each other and for a moment was awestruck again at how wonderful a God we have that grants us lives like these.
My 74th wedding at St Catherine's, for the record. It's moments of note were:
1. The fastest ever walk down the aisle by a bride in the history of the world. She was ready. The bridesmaids, well, they caught up eventually.
2. A seriously weepy father of the bride. Seriously.
3. We had Ephesians 5.21-30 as one of the readings! No, seriously! Mark chose it. I pointed this out, and then took the chance to preach on it. I've never preached on this passage before in any context.
4. Lovely jugs of water on the tables at the reception to go with the wine - which turned out not to be water but gin & tonic. Caught many people out. Rather pleasant.
5. They are from the West Country. This meant that at the evening do, the dancing was, well, far more men than women. Not common in these parts, I can tell you. Or perhaps these blokes just enjoyed dancing.
6. Facebook update from someone on my table: "I'm on a table with the vicar. How strange." Then later: "It's OK, we're talking movies."
7. Had a lovely conversation with one of Mark's friends late in the evening. His version, apparently: "Tried to pick an argument with Marcus: he seriously whooped my ****."
8. Actually, I must say, I had a great time with everyone - Karl, Robin, everyone at my table during the afternoon, the very many folk I chatted to during the evening, it was about the friendliest wedding I've been to in ages. Which reflects M&B perfectly.
And it has been my total delight to help out Mark & Bianca as they have worked so hard to prepare for this day. We did everything we could as a church to make it work for them, including putting on the afternoon reception in the church hall. Today, I found them in there clearing it all up, and I drove them around as they had all kinds of things to do & helped move chairs around & sort stuff with them. Mark starts a new job tomorrow, so no honeymoon for them. We will hit the pub quiz later in the week. If we win, he & Bee will take the prize.Though frankly, on a day that was low on razzamatazz but high on value, they both already clearly have the prize, and prize it highly.
Friday, February 04, 2011
muscular liberalism
So David Cameron has come out of the closet. He is a muscular liberal. In a speech this weekend he espouses "muscular liberalism" as the acceptable way forwards for a complex 21st Century British Society. Multiculturalism, with its "you do your thing & I'll do mine" is dead. There are certain things we all have to hold dear.
What are they?
The Telegraph report says the following:
1. This is printed in the Telegraph as a swipe at extreme Islam. But it is aimed at "all faiths". Just this week there has been an attempt in Parliament to make the Church of England accept women bishops on equality grounds. Fair enough, but Parliament and secular thinking shouldn't ever have the power to set the faith or practice of any church (even if they are right). "Core Values" are tricky things, after all. Mr Cameron's and Mr Miliband's aren't quite the same. Ask Mrs Miliband. Oops, you can't just yet. But they will be married soon.
2. "To be British is..." complete this sentence and post in to BBC Broadcasting House etc etc. In the US it would have Mom's Apple Pie in there somewhere. And guns (depending where you live). Here it's the NHS or Foxhunting. These "rights" of course don't actually exist, so nice trendy additions are easy to put in there. I like his additions, and I'd put them in myself - and of course they are there because he is arguing against intolerance. Liberalism versus Extremism. But then he might as well say it's more British to be Middle Class than poor or posh.
3. Agreed. If people refuse to accept British standards, they should not have access to State funds. Absolutely. Unfortunately this is so open to abuse I regret it enormously. Secular Fundamentalists (who will embrace the "muscular liberal" tag) will seize upon this as an opportunity to refuse all State money to any religious group. They'll seize upon anything to achieve that end...
And yet... He's right, even if he's walking a dangerous road. Any faith that is about building up communities of love has to be about building together, not seperating. We have our distinctives, but in a common society we are not ringfenced ghettos and should not try to either portray ourselves as such or make ourselves such. There are core values in a society, and when we in the faith communities can work with them (even when they are "the Spirit of the Age" and not exactly to our own taste) we should. We are community builders par excellence. Cameron's call is for faith communities not to sit to the side but to play a full part - we are to embrace this. Freedom of speech for all is surely vital (and unquestionable), and it is not just those of an extremist Islamic background that suffer clipped wings here. Evangelicals who disagree with the standard harsh line vocal members of their religious party preach on sexuality simply stay quiet - it's safer. Respect is about being able to discuss all things without fear, and Cameron is talking about that freedom as a core value. Tick, as far as I can see, and as far as I can see, most religious communities struggle with this somewhere. Freedom of speech isn't the same as licence to be disrespectful - to say stupid and angry things, but it is to allow openness and thoughtful debate. Questions grow faith.
So I am ambivalent. I agree with his call for people of faith to work together and to play a full part in society; but fear any society that would limit my faith (and therefore any faith) from setting its own path by saying it is "unpatriotic", and by having power to change that definition at will.
That indeed is muscular, but not very liberal.
What are they?
The Telegraph report says the following:
Three things:Entering the debate on national identity and religious tolerance, the Prime Minister will declare an end to “passive tolerance” of divided communities, and say that members of all faiths must integrate into wider society and accept core values.To be British is to believe in freedom of speech and religion, democracy and equal rights regardless of race, sex or sexuality, he will say. Proclaiming a doctrine of “muscular liberalism”, he will say that everyone, from ministers to ordinary voters, should actively confront those who hold extremist views.He will also warn that groups that fail to promote British values will no longer receive public money or be able to engage with the state.
1. This is printed in the Telegraph as a swipe at extreme Islam. But it is aimed at "all faiths". Just this week there has been an attempt in Parliament to make the Church of England accept women bishops on equality grounds. Fair enough, but Parliament and secular thinking shouldn't ever have the power to set the faith or practice of any church (even if they are right). "Core Values" are tricky things, after all. Mr Cameron's and Mr Miliband's aren't quite the same. Ask Mrs Miliband. Oops, you can't just yet. But they will be married soon.
2. "To be British is..." complete this sentence and post in to BBC Broadcasting House etc etc. In the US it would have Mom's Apple Pie in there somewhere. And guns (depending where you live). Here it's the NHS or Foxhunting. These "rights" of course don't actually exist, so nice trendy additions are easy to put in there. I like his additions, and I'd put them in myself - and of course they are there because he is arguing against intolerance. Liberalism versus Extremism. But then he might as well say it's more British to be Middle Class than poor or posh.
3. Agreed. If people refuse to accept British standards, they should not have access to State funds. Absolutely. Unfortunately this is so open to abuse I regret it enormously. Secular Fundamentalists (who will embrace the "muscular liberal" tag) will seize upon this as an opportunity to refuse all State money to any religious group. They'll seize upon anything to achieve that end...
And yet... He's right, even if he's walking a dangerous road. Any faith that is about building up communities of love has to be about building together, not seperating. We have our distinctives, but in a common society we are not ringfenced ghettos and should not try to either portray ourselves as such or make ourselves such. There are core values in a society, and when we in the faith communities can work with them (even when they are "the Spirit of the Age" and not exactly to our own taste) we should. We are community builders par excellence. Cameron's call is for faith communities not to sit to the side but to play a full part - we are to embrace this. Freedom of speech for all is surely vital (and unquestionable), and it is not just those of an extremist Islamic background that suffer clipped wings here. Evangelicals who disagree with the standard harsh line vocal members of their religious party preach on sexuality simply stay quiet - it's safer. Respect is about being able to discuss all things without fear, and Cameron is talking about that freedom as a core value. Tick, as far as I can see, and as far as I can see, most religious communities struggle with this somewhere. Freedom of speech isn't the same as licence to be disrespectful - to say stupid and angry things, but it is to allow openness and thoughtful debate. Questions grow faith.
So I am ambivalent. I agree with his call for people of faith to work together and to play a full part in society; but fear any society that would limit my faith (and therefore any faith) from setting its own path by saying it is "unpatriotic", and by having power to change that definition at will.
That indeed is muscular, but not very liberal.
Wednesday, February 02, 2011
ploughing through
Do you know that feeling when you have run seven times up and down a hill in training and there are still two more repetitions to go? The fast guys have lapped you and the pain is unbearable and the trainer stands at the bottom and you cannot - CANNOT - carry on, but you have to?
Or when you are skiing, and the rest of the group want to do a run that just terrifies you and you can't back out now? It's too late. You're on the chair lift. There's no going back. It's 3pm and this would have been hard at 11.30am but right now with a whole day's leg work on the mountain, this is too TOO much. No turning back.
Or when your mate asked you to help out with a performance he was organising, and like a fool you said yes - only to discover that the music he put in front of you was way - WAY - beyond you, but now you can't let him down. Muscle memory. Come on fingers. Muscle memory. You can do it. Keep on, keep on, keep on.
Completing a grants application is a bit like that. It's both far too much, soul destroying and mentally defeating, and at the same time - there is this element of actually enjoying reaching the summit, knowing you're not there, but you are going to get there if it kills you. It may. It really may. And yet the buzz of the deadline, the thrill of the sums of money you are dealing with, the passion of the cause that lies behind it all, something kicks in and you plough through.
And then there are certain life goals. Things you set yourself. You won't settle for less. You always settle for less. Not this time. Not going to allow the old reset button to kick in and go back to the old familiar. This time I am making a brand new start... Oh, the temptation to stop, to rest, to let seven reps be enough, to skid not ski, to fudge not play, to let life be OK and not (for once) live it to the full.
Ploughing through or making do? Eyes on the goal. For the hope of the joy set before us.
Or when you are skiing, and the rest of the group want to do a run that just terrifies you and you can't back out now? It's too late. You're on the chair lift. There's no going back. It's 3pm and this would have been hard at 11.30am but right now with a whole day's leg work on the mountain, this is too TOO much. No turning back.
Or when your mate asked you to help out with a performance he was organising, and like a fool you said yes - only to discover that the music he put in front of you was way - WAY - beyond you, but now you can't let him down. Muscle memory. Come on fingers. Muscle memory. You can do it. Keep on, keep on, keep on.
Completing a grants application is a bit like that. It's both far too much, soul destroying and mentally defeating, and at the same time - there is this element of actually enjoying reaching the summit, knowing you're not there, but you are going to get there if it kills you. It may. It really may. And yet the buzz of the deadline, the thrill of the sums of money you are dealing with, the passion of the cause that lies behind it all, something kicks in and you plough through.
And then there are certain life goals. Things you set yourself. You won't settle for less. You always settle for less. Not this time. Not going to allow the old reset button to kick in and go back to the old familiar. This time I am making a brand new start... Oh, the temptation to stop, to rest, to let seven reps be enough, to skid not ski, to fudge not play, to let life be OK and not (for once) live it to the full.
Ploughing through or making do? Eyes on the goal. For the hope of the joy set before us.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
O my word
Still, it is funny.
In case he removes or updates, I will record exactly what is there right now. Sometimes the internet has a wonderful way of editing life:
Outside is Better" I have spent some time over the last few weeks updating the feel of the site and launched last night. Since I will be transitioning from the role of a stud..."
Glorious. And you thought I just gave you worship site links.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
less than human
I have discovered that when someone consistantly treats me as less than human over a period of time, there comes a point at which I do not know what to do.
I want to remain able to talk and to speak as if all were well. But I am so grieved, I cannot speak at all. It is not anger. I am not angry. I have been angry - for sure; but I have faced raw anger across from me and I do not want to share in it. It's not who I am; it's not who the Lord allows me to be. I see and understand the pain in faces that reduce me to this sub-human status, this less-than-life. I have tried to reach out, to help, to bring peace. But peace exists between peoples. For there to be peace here, it is not up to me any more; others have to see I too am a person and begin again to learn how to treat me as one.
So I do not know what to do. In a social setting, in a chance meeting, even by email, I find myself speechless. Unable to communicate. Frozen, inarticulate, unacting. Aware I appear to be blanking people; I am not blanking people. It is beyond a question of choice.
CS Lewis once wrote - "How can they meet us face to face till we have faces?" I do not know what to do; but here is my prayer. That those of whom I write and for whom I pray, for whom I pray dearly in their own situation, would see again I too have a face. That we may one day yet again meet face to face.
Friday, January 28, 2011
signs of the times?
As some of you are not football fans, and some not from these shores, I'll begin with a brief run down of what has been a major - though strange - news story here this week. Andy Gray & Richard Keys, both in their mid-fifties, main presenters of Sky Sports football coverage for twenty years (ever since it began) have lost their jobs in the last seven days over off-camera sexist remarks they made about a female match offical not being able to understand the basic rules of the game simply because she was a woman. (There's a lot more - click here for a BBC version of it all.)
Almost no-one has defended them. Newspapers condemned them for prehistoric attitudes. Footballers (who you would have considered fairly neanderthal in their approach to life) issued tweet after tweet in support of Sian Massey, the official in question, and saying that the kind of locker room banter that Gray & Keys engaged in was unacceptable. Here's Robbie Savage (in the twighlight of his career, plying his trade at Derby County in the Championship) from his twitter feed:
"You have to judge the person on ability and decision making and having played in games where she has officiated she was excellent !"
Again he wrote,
"I spoke to miss Massey the same I did to a male Lino it's irrelevant the gender !"
A discussion on Radio 5 was the only place I heard anyone begin to suggest it wasn't all bad. And this was from Lawrie Sanchez, former manager of the Northern Ireland national side. He wanted to make sure there wasn't a crime of thinking impure thoughts, and that people were allowed to have different opinions, and he pointed out that there was a generational shift. No-one was much convinced, though it was accepted there had been a generational shift, and attitudes to women in sport that had been prevalent and acceptable twenty years ago were not acceptable now. In the same way that almost no professional sports person would smoke today.
It reminded me of a press conference a few weeks ago about the succesful Qatar bid for the 2022 World Cup, when a journalist asked Sepp Blatter (in his seventies), President of FIFA, about gay football fans going to a country where homosexuality is illegal. Blatter sniggered (along with others in the room) and then said: "I'd say they should refrain from any sexual activities."
There was a moderate outburst against this from some gay rights groups, and in some western footballing countries (including here in the UK), but Blatter (unlike Gray & Keys) remains in post.
The world is changing. Old men of a previous generation are finding that attitudes that have been safe forever are no longer universally acceptable. Good thing too. It is not just boys who can travel first class. It is not just those in the safe majority who can treat everybody else how they please, and speak about others without respect or regard. This change is long and slow in coming. It is happening in so many areas of life. We should seek it out and foster it.
This is a Christian imperative. In Christ there is no Greek or Jew, slave or free, male or female. Jesus dines with sinners and tax collectors - because they are human. God so loved the world that he gave his only Son that whoever believes in him might have eternal life.
The problem is that we are human too, and we live in a culture, and we are more shaped by it than we know. Those older than us for whom expecting women to do the dishes was the norm (rather than officiating at top flight football matches) or for whom homosexuality was instinctively wrong are not evil for having these attitudes - they are of their generation. But we are not. We do not need to read the Scriptures with the lens of the past, no matter how long that lens has been in place. Culture shapes how we read the words God has given us - we must understand this humbly, so that we can use the lens we have to find the purest light. And understanding this humbly, as we seek to change the lens for a better one, we must do so carefully. Heaven help us - those coming after us may be left with what we choose for as long as we have suffered the attitudes that have gone before us.
Churches today are beginning to work out that women and men are both human. That the Creation story places a remarkable equivalence upon us, as does the Resurrection narrative. Because we in the Church have worked (frankly) with the superiority of men for so long, this change is harder for us than for Sky Sports. It is not done with in a week. We are not submitting to "the spirit of the age" as we take this equivalence on board, but rather freeing ourselves from the spirit of too-long ages past so that we better reflect the truth of God as revealed in his word, liberated from a cultural prison whereby some people are worth less than others - a state of being that can never, never be Gospel.
I have enjoyed Andy Gray & Richard Keys as they have brought football match after football match into my front room over the years. But if their departing is a symbol of the world losing something awful, much as I have loved them, in their going, we have gained much.
Almost no-one has defended them. Newspapers condemned them for prehistoric attitudes. Footballers (who you would have considered fairly neanderthal in their approach to life) issued tweet after tweet in support of Sian Massey, the official in question, and saying that the kind of locker room banter that Gray & Keys engaged in was unacceptable. Here's Robbie Savage (in the twighlight of his career, plying his trade at Derby County in the Championship) from his twitter feed:
"You have to judge the person on ability and decision making and having played in games where she has officiated she was excellent !"
Again he wrote,
"I spoke to miss Massey the same I did to a male Lino it's irrelevant the gender !"
A discussion on Radio 5 was the only place I heard anyone begin to suggest it wasn't all bad. And this was from Lawrie Sanchez, former manager of the Northern Ireland national side. He wanted to make sure there wasn't a crime of thinking impure thoughts, and that people were allowed to have different opinions, and he pointed out that there was a generational shift. No-one was much convinced, though it was accepted there had been a generational shift, and attitudes to women in sport that had been prevalent and acceptable twenty years ago were not acceptable now. In the same way that almost no professional sports person would smoke today.
It reminded me of a press conference a few weeks ago about the succesful Qatar bid for the 2022 World Cup, when a journalist asked Sepp Blatter (in his seventies), President of FIFA, about gay football fans going to a country where homosexuality is illegal. Blatter sniggered (along with others in the room) and then said: "I'd say they should refrain from any sexual activities."
There was a moderate outburst against this from some gay rights groups, and in some western footballing countries (including here in the UK), but Blatter (unlike Gray & Keys) remains in post.
The world is changing. Old men of a previous generation are finding that attitudes that have been safe forever are no longer universally acceptable. Good thing too. It is not just boys who can travel first class. It is not just those in the safe majority who can treat everybody else how they please, and speak about others without respect or regard. This change is long and slow in coming. It is happening in so many areas of life. We should seek it out and foster it.
This is a Christian imperative. In Christ there is no Greek or Jew, slave or free, male or female. Jesus dines with sinners and tax collectors - because they are human. God so loved the world that he gave his only Son that whoever believes in him might have eternal life.
The problem is that we are human too, and we live in a culture, and we are more shaped by it than we know. Those older than us for whom expecting women to do the dishes was the norm (rather than officiating at top flight football matches) or for whom homosexuality was instinctively wrong are not evil for having these attitudes - they are of their generation. But we are not. We do not need to read the Scriptures with the lens of the past, no matter how long that lens has been in place. Culture shapes how we read the words God has given us - we must understand this humbly, so that we can use the lens we have to find the purest light. And understanding this humbly, as we seek to change the lens for a better one, we must do so carefully. Heaven help us - those coming after us may be left with what we choose for as long as we have suffered the attitudes that have gone before us.
Churches today are beginning to work out that women and men are both human. That the Creation story places a remarkable equivalence upon us, as does the Resurrection narrative. Because we in the Church have worked (frankly) with the superiority of men for so long, this change is harder for us than for Sky Sports. It is not done with in a week. We are not submitting to "the spirit of the age" as we take this equivalence on board, but rather freeing ourselves from the spirit of too-long ages past so that we better reflect the truth of God as revealed in his word, liberated from a cultural prison whereby some people are worth less than others - a state of being that can never, never be Gospel.
I have enjoyed Andy Gray & Richard Keys as they have brought football match after football match into my front room over the years. But if their departing is a symbol of the world losing something awful, much as I have loved them, in their going, we have gained much.
Monday, January 24, 2011
I thank you
1. 1. She was only a whiskey maker, but he loved her still
2. 2. Sign on the lawn at drug rehab centre: Keep off the grass
3. 3. A midget fortune-teller escaped from prison. Police are looking for a small medium at large
4. 4. A soldier who survived mustard gas & pepper spray is a seasoned veteran
5. 5. In democracy, it’s your vote that counts; in feudalism, it’s your count that votes
6. 6. When cannibals eat a missionary, do they get a taste of religion?
7. 7. A vulture boards a 747 holding 2 dead racoons. “Sorry sir,” says the stewardess, “Only one carrion per passenger”
8. 8. A dog that gave birth to puppies at the roadside was cited for littering
9. 9. A hole has been found in a nudist camp wall. Police are looking into it
10. 10. A man sent ten amusing wordplays to ten friends in the hope that at least one would make them smile. No pun in ten did
Saturday, January 22, 2011
vulnerable
Scaffolding everywhere. Tiles to the left, tiles to the right. Rubbish mounting up & the driveway needing to be swept of nails before I can re-park my car at the end of the working day. People all around the house & garden doing their own thing in my personal space.
Recognising the kind of bloke I am, I love to be with others, to serve, to laugh, to work, to play, to pray, to be and to do - and then I need my bolt hole, my private home in order to recharge again. I know the stuff that's being done on the house is in a good cause, but I am not enjoying a process and the timing of a process that has been imposed upon me. I'm trying to keep some boundaries in order to function, but others are doing their best to erode as many of those as they can, viewing my presence as an inconvenience to their work (which doubtless it is) so there are little skirmishes errupting from time to time. In my vulnerability, I think I am far from handling all of these skirmishes gloriously.
Life lesson: don't live in a house whilst they put the new roof on it. Unless you enjoy stress, or need to feel more vulnerable than is naturally comfortable.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside still waters, he restores my soul. He guides me into paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Lord - shepherd me, provide for me, calm me, lead me, restore me and please help me walk better in the relationships all around me than I am managing just now. I feel vulnerable; but I know you care.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
gate keeping
I say "we" did these things. Margaret has gotten ill since I last saw her on her birthday, and though she held my hand, she did not speak. The picture here is of her hundredth birthday. She is accompanied by her daughters Carol and Barbara, and I took Barbara's funeral just a few months ago. I loved Barbara dearly; she was very kind to me, a great support.
Back to today.
One of the staff came in and chatted to me. We looked at the photos in the room. Margaret's cousin, who stowed away on Ernest Shackleton's ship. Margaret's daughters. The Queen, and the greeting she had sent three years ago. Then I sat again to complete my task.
For as I visited Margaret, I knew this was a "gate keeper" moment. She was ready. I was preparing her for her crossing. It is the most precious thing I do. So I assured her of God's love. Of her sins forgiven. Of the Lord her shepherd caring for her and of her place in his house for evermore. And I took my leave; promising we would meet again, another day.
A great and glorious day. A day when the tear in my eye would be wiped away, and all the pain of the years would be taken from her aching limbs.
I signed out of the nursing home at 3.45pm; six hours later Carol called me to let me know her mother had died.
And my thoughts are with Carol, missing her mother. And my thoughts are with Margaret's grandchildren and great grandchildren. And my thoughts are with Margaret - resurrected, restored, renewed, ageless and magnificent, worshipping her Lord in the company of those who have gone before her. There will be singing in Heaven tonight.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
everything is gift
Lauterbrunnen is in the valley beneath Wengen, my usual skiing spot, and although I bought a new pair of skis on ebay after my last trip, one thing and another has meant I am not on the rota for running the church in Wengen this season, and I thought I wouldn't get a chance to see how good they were. But after speaking with Catharine, I called Clive at Goldhill, discovered they had spaces on the holiday - and booked.
I have had a wonderful week.
Now - don't fear, this isn't just a holiday blog, I hope there's going to be more to this than that; but please, enjoy the snaps. The Jungfrau region is one of the wonders of the world. Truly glorious. Just being there is a gift.
The Goldhill group is made up of (mostly) Christians from all over the UK, with varying degrees of winter sports experience. We get lessons in the morning, ski for fun in the afternoon, and then eat together in the evening before worshipping together, hearing a short talk, and decamping to the pub. In the past, I've taken groups from St Catherine's, but this time the only person I really knew was the aformentioned Catharine Morris and then I had met some of her friends before. You go hoping that there will be a decent crowd. These folk were just great - from retired pilots to university professors to a couple of students to nurses to doctors, from north to south, Scotland, England and Wales, it was a great group of people. I especially enjoyed time spent with folk from Derby, and with the speaker for the week, Ian. More of him, and his compassion, later. Everything is gift. Going (basically) alone - how was this going to be? Wonderful.
Gift number two: those new skis I mentioned. I bought them on eBay sight unseen. I bought them cos I'd seen a pair like them in Wengen, and cos they were a serious upgrade from my old skis. Volants. Gold Volants. Handmade in Austria. I knew I'd had a bargain, but on Thursday evening I enjoyed a birthday meal (gift number 3) with Paul & Sarah Parker (whose marriage blessing I conducted a couple of years back in Wengen) and a couple of the other guests work in one of the ski shops there and were interested to hear what skis I used. When I told them, they were surprised. "EBay," I confessed, knowing that this is not something you say to folk who work in a real shop. They wanted to know how much I had paid, and I told them, thinking I'd paid about a third of what I should have. I was in error. Their current shop price simply adds a zero on mine...
I tell you, I have never experienced skiing like it. And though I had a slight accident on the last day (I skiied into a cliff on a sharp corner - but the helmet took most of it; gift number 4, thanks Dad & Lorna, thanks Gill; otherwise it might have been nastier than the small scar I have on my right cheek) even that would have been far worse without the incredible response and power that these skis produce. Amazing.
Gift number five. One morning I just wanted to be alone for a while. I had a lot on my mind, and being with 50 people all the time gave me no time to pray and think. I needed head space. I wanted to be miserable for a short time, and to be able to enjoy it. So, I let everyone else leave, and then caught a later train to Wengen and headed on up the cable car - where a guy called Sean saw me and greeted me. Sean is working as a ski school instructor, but I know him as the other half of Sheridan who runs the DHO (Down Hill Only Ski Club) in Wengen. He asked what I was doing - "Skiing by myself today," I replied, and before I knew it he had his mobile out of his pocket and was calling Sheridan. "She's just working in the office," he said to me, and then to his phone, "Sheridan, Marcus is here & he's skiing alone, why don't you come & join him?"
So she did. And I lost my time alone. I wilted inside. But you know - Sheridan is a lovely, lovely person, and an amazing skiier, and she knows the mountains thoroughly, and one way to improve your skills is to follow someone brilliant. So I was given my own personal ski guide for the morning. Fantastic. Everything is gift. Then we ran into four other folk, three of whom are good friends from Wengen, and ski school teachers, including Karen, my first teacher. One amazing person to ski with was not gift enough. I was given five. I didn't get my headspace/misery time. I got something far more precious - friendships renewed and an incredible opportunity to ski with experts. Wonderful.
Gift number 6. I had some great conversations with folk during the week. One night stands out when three of us bunked out of a group activity and found a pub together, and just talked into the night. Two of us continued a bit later, and I had the chance to talk again with the other guy the day after on a train journey. We talked of ourselves, we talked of Jesus, we talked honestly and with laughter and with the odd restrained tear. Such moments are precious.Gift number 7. Eating in the cold outside a restaurant on Catharine's birthday, because she always eats outside there. Sometimes gifts are bizarre! But it was a delight to be with Catharine & to see her this week. A million years ago, she & I prayed with Rob Graham in a prayer triplet, and we remembered him this week.
Gift number 8. The accident. The Helmet. The skis helping to slow me down so that when my head hit the wall it wasn't as bad as it could have been. And the humour of Ian skiing past me as I was plastered to a cliff face in agony, and he carried on all the way down to Wengen station... You can imagine I did not let him forget this. I told the group: "I'd like to tell you a story of compassion. I'd like to... but unfortunately..." Yes, the preacher just skiied on by on the other side. We had a great time - and had just done the Brandegg run from the top of the Eigernordwand lift in exhilaratingly fast time. The whole thing was fun - and that helmet was indeed a gift, as were all the jokes afterwards. At both our expense. You can read Ian's version of events here. (Seriously - it's a scar, not a scratch, don't believe anyone who says otherwise.) Everything is gift. So much is unexpected. It would have been easy to focus on the negatives - being alone in a crowd, having to lock up my skis, scratching the new helmet, losing time alone, feeling like I get to have such conversations so rarely these days, and actually having an accident which left me feeling rather shaken - but every one of these things was part of something wonderful. It depends where you look. Eyes on the mess, eyes on Jesus? In my heart I am praying and working through so many things that seriously trouble me and steal sleep away night after night, yet even on a simple holiday week I see God pouring out his goodness. So why stare at the problems and worry without the ability to solve a thing? He is here and he is good.
Saturday, January 01, 2011
hopeful
Happy New Year!
In all honesty, I have avoided sending texts and tweets and leaving facebook updates wishing my hundreds of friends and followers (followers? like we're all mini-messiahs on Twitter) the pleasantries of the rolling calendar. It's just another day, bah humbug.
Don't get me wrong. I am open to receiving good wishes and kind thoughts on any day of any month. Strike that. On every day of every month. I just don't much care for this particular festival, with its cunning mix of nostalgia and delusion.
"Oh yes, 2010 was a very good year for us. Daniel received his knighthood for services to the chicken industry, Mathilda cured the common cold and little Percy got five A stars. We holidayed in Mauritius, Morocco and St Moritz, and were able to found a children's cancer home in Mozambique even though the economy did hit us quite hard. How was 2010 for you? Let's hope 2011 is even better!"
For me 2010 had some really awful bits in it, and looking back, I'm afraid I am still close enough for them to be the things that come to mind first. It had some real challenges, and some of them were successfully negotiated, and others remain ongoing. And yes, there were highlights; renewed friendships, good time spent with my Dad, a month at Asbury Seminary amongst them. It's good to recall those. But honestly - 2010, I'm glad to see the back of you.
So much for nostalgia. As for delusion...
It's not the concept of "resolutions" that I object to. I ignore these things, so they simply don't register for me. But if I profess to be glad a year is over, then sure enough this sentiment will follow on - "Well then, here's to a better year ahead!"
Why better ahead? Why, after all, should this last year have been so challenging? And then - what's wrong with challenging? Just because I didn't like it doesn't mean it was bad for me, does it? Why presume disike & difficulty are bad for me? In the grand sweep of things, what doesn't kill you can make you stronger, and 2010 might turn out to be one of those periods that proved invaluable. Not much fun, but invaluable - rather like theological college was. So why should I want next year to be "better" when really what's meant (kindly) by that is "easier"?
I'll confess - there are days I want easy...
But more: I want to live this life well. And when this life is not easy, I want to live the difficult days well, to get the most out of them, to make the best choices and to live this life well. Life is a gift from God. Not to be wasted. It is not measured in triumphs and prizes and wishing it away but in the quality of the living - and that is something that can only be measured against the standards the days we are given throw at us. How we live through tough days and how we live through glorious ones ought not look, feel, taste, sound or smell the same.
And I want to be able to have my hand held by God through every day and look him in the eye and say "thank you" each night. The days I love, the days I understand, the days I fear and loathe.
I don't need a "Happy" 2011. I don't wish one upon you - I fear you may be disappointed, unless you live in a fairytale. But I'd like a hopeful one; one where the hope of a good life, a life with Jesus remains and grows and shapes me and makes me better - one where such hope deepens beyond my understanding. And I pray that for you, too.
In all honesty, I have avoided sending texts and tweets and leaving facebook updates wishing my hundreds of friends and followers (followers? like we're all mini-messiahs on Twitter) the pleasantries of the rolling calendar. It's just another day, bah humbug.
Don't get me wrong. I am open to receiving good wishes and kind thoughts on any day of any month. Strike that. On every day of every month. I just don't much care for this particular festival, with its cunning mix of nostalgia and delusion.
"Oh yes, 2010 was a very good year for us. Daniel received his knighthood for services to the chicken industry, Mathilda cured the common cold and little Percy got five A stars. We holidayed in Mauritius, Morocco and St Moritz, and were able to found a children's cancer home in Mozambique even though the economy did hit us quite hard. How was 2010 for you? Let's hope 2011 is even better!"
For me 2010 had some really awful bits in it, and looking back, I'm afraid I am still close enough for them to be the things that come to mind first. It had some real challenges, and some of them were successfully negotiated, and others remain ongoing. And yes, there were highlights; renewed friendships, good time spent with my Dad, a month at Asbury Seminary amongst them. It's good to recall those. But honestly - 2010, I'm glad to see the back of you.
So much for nostalgia. As for delusion...
It's not the concept of "resolutions" that I object to. I ignore these things, so they simply don't register for me. But if I profess to be glad a year is over, then sure enough this sentiment will follow on - "Well then, here's to a better year ahead!"
Why better ahead? Why, after all, should this last year have been so challenging? And then - what's wrong with challenging? Just because I didn't like it doesn't mean it was bad for me, does it? Why presume disike & difficulty are bad for me? In the grand sweep of things, what doesn't kill you can make you stronger, and 2010 might turn out to be one of those periods that proved invaluable. Not much fun, but invaluable - rather like theological college was. So why should I want next year to be "better" when really what's meant (kindly) by that is "easier"?
I'll confess - there are days I want easy...
But more: I want to live this life well. And when this life is not easy, I want to live the difficult days well, to get the most out of them, to make the best choices and to live this life well. Life is a gift from God. Not to be wasted. It is not measured in triumphs and prizes and wishing it away but in the quality of the living - and that is something that can only be measured against the standards the days we are given throw at us. How we live through tough days and how we live through glorious ones ought not look, feel, taste, sound or smell the same.
And I want to be able to have my hand held by God through every day and look him in the eye and say "thank you" each night. The days I love, the days I understand, the days I fear and loathe.
I don't need a "Happy" 2011. I don't wish one upon you - I fear you may be disappointed, unless you live in a fairytale. But I'd like a hopeful one; one where the hope of a good life, a life with Jesus remains and grows and shapes me and makes me better - one where such hope deepens beyond my understanding. And I pray that for you, too.
Monday, December 27, 2010
meaning
I was asked a couple of weeks ago what Christmas meant to me. I suppose it is the kind of question that I ought to have a ready answer for - like "why are you a vicar?" or "how did you become a Christian?" At this time of year it can take you by surprise if you're not prepared.And I wasn't prepared - actually, I was stumped. I didn't have a simple two-phrase answer, and much as I attempted to produce one, one really wasn't for coming. Oh, I said something or other that was superficially interesting... but actually a bit vacuous... and hoped no-one would notice I had no reply to a perfectly decent and obvious question.
Part of me has been worrying since that radio interview the other week (the one where the agony aunt thought I was a great advert for the church & the presenter noticed I hadn't mentioned God) that I'm going through that part of the cycle where presentation is triumphing over substance. Because I have a tendency to beat myself up over these things, I've been fretting over my spiritual state. If I was counselling me, of course, I'd be telling me that care for one's soul is usually a sign that things are not awful. It's when there is no thought for how one's personal walk with God is going that the rot has really set in! Stressing that I'm a bit weak, spiritually - well, you know, I can hear the voice of reason, but still I let the worry play out...
And so back to Christmas.
A girl pregnant before marriage in a culture where that carried the death penalty; a man being loyal despite the disapproval of his whole family; worthless nomads outside the town gates and beyond nice society; philosphers with a screw loose risking political suicide and brandishing the worst gifts ever. And the Creator God born in an animal's stall, but holding every human heart in his tiny fingers and inviting us to let go the things that fill our worlds and simply love him. It's a long way from heaven to Bethlehem. It's just an invitation back.
I live so much of my life so far from heaven. The meaning of Christmas for me is - that's OK; God has made the journey. It's a long way from heaven to Bethlehem. His love comes down and reaches Mary, Joseph, shepherds, wise men, me and you. And he invites us to take hold of his hand, to love as we are loved and as we forget we are loved, and he promises never to let go. Christmas to me means it's not just about my mess; God is here. So there is hope.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
greatest story
Mary & Joseph were particularly good, though I shall never see St Anne in the same light again...
I might vary at various points in interpretation. That would be nitpicking. This isn't a theological symposium, this is the BBC. In the final programme, as Jesus is born and the shepherds are drawn to the stable and the wise men follow, the wonder of God coming amongst us, coming for such as us, and the urge to weep and to worship simply overwhelmed me. I didn't expect that, had no right to expect that, and suddenly found my whole preparation for Christmas had shot into a different league.
To be fair, this has been an unusual Christmas week. Our Carol Service was delayed from Sunday night till last night, and as we sang all the usual carols I found myself again profoundly moved by the awesome majestic God who abandons heaven for a cow shed, perfection for Israel, eternity for the bonds of passing time. And why? Because he loves us. You. Me. And to not make that journey is to abandon us; so love leaves comfort to comfort those who have no idea that they are even mourning.
The greatest stories are great because they draw us into their narrative, or our narrative becomes a part of theirs, and this week Christmas has been working on me. Perhaps it is the fairy tale snow everywhere, or perhaps my heart simply needs to be reminded that I too am with the rest of Creation pressing into that stable, seeing that sight, wondering, worshipping, in awe and struck by love.
Friday, December 17, 2010
December Snow
So as the sun began to rise this morning, it was clear that we'd had a good night of snow. The clouds were still pregnant with the stuff, and from dawn through the afternoon, the town was strangely muffled by flakes of all sizes robbing us of the usual noises of life & replacing them with a gentle wonder.Here in my back garden, the summer trap for barbecues and lazy drinks is nestling under the unexpected weight of a table topping we don't often see. That cushion on the chair looks quite a challenge!
Matt wasn't at all sure what to do. He does like snow (eating it has become his newest habit) but today as it fell - and fell, and fell - he wasn't happy. Quickly out, quickly back.
I am suffering with fairly fatal manflu. And it's been a day off. Ha! The mayor's office rang & put paid to that. Sunday is our town Carol Service, and of course we have civic dignitaries, the MP, all kinds of people, the Regimental band of the Royal Welsh, the RCT Youth Choir & the Children of Ysgol Evan James.... RCT (local council) have a severe weather warning in across the weekend, and so this afternoon we postponed the whole thing till Wednesday at 7pm. I can only hope we get decent local radio coverage to advertise this. I am expecting some people will come on Sunday anyway. We'll sing a few carols and see what happens, I think...
Darkness falls, no-one is around. If I wasn't ill I would go & see some people. But I seriously don't feel well. I'm not sad the Carol Service is delayed - I can cope! As long as people know. I'd rather feel well. I was supposed to go to a concert in Cardiff today - ha! I couldn't even get out to the Bunch of Grapes.
But the snow does produce this mysterious beauty, this otherness that transforms and loses us for a while. Some people are stuck away from loved ones, others stuck with them, some find themselves not knowing what the days ahead will hold. Keep safe, be careful, the Lord is with you - but don't travel any distance if you don't have to. Better to travel safely another time than at risk today.
Me? I'm under the duvet, alternating fruit juice, Glenmorangie & paracetemol as my medication of choice. Good night...
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