Presents and Presence

When is it the right time to exchange gifts at Christmas?

The answer to that Yuletide conundrum might be influenced by where you are at this time of year.

For example, in the Netherlands our Dutch friends will already have unwrapped a present or two on St Nicolas’ Day Eve, 5^th December, when Sinterklaas brings gifts for children.

However, travel up to Scandinavia and we might find the exchange of presents in Estonia, Finland and Denmark all taking place on Christmas Eve rather than our norm of Christmas Day.

Further south, in Spain, where my brother lives up in the Andalusian mountains, and he tells me that in his village it’s January 6^th when people get their presents, Epiphany Day, remembering the gifts of gold, frankincense and myhhr offered by the wise men.

In Louisa Alcott’s classic: Little Women, the book starts off like this:  Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents.  Well, of course, you could have Christmas without them, and perhaps many do, but the book has a point in that the very essence of this Christian festival recalls at its centre the gift of God to the world of Jesus.

The bible describes God in terms of generosity.  His present to us at Christmas is the presence of Jesus – whose birth, life and death shows us what God’s love looks like in a human life.

The gift of God’s presence with us is something to celebrate not just on December 5^th, 24^th, 25^th or January 6^th, but every day.

The gift of God’s presence with us brings love and light into our lives.

We recently received a family wedding invitation, on it my niece made it clear that what she’d value on the day is our presence rather than a present.  Of course, she and her husband to be will willingly be offered both, but it’s a lovely thought – the best present is often our presence.

Just as God shares his love with us in the presence of Jesus – so we are then called to share love, kindness and generosity of spirit with each other in our presence to and with them.

So, this Christmas let’s give thanks for the presence of love and light in our world – found in God, made real in Jesus and encountered too in the companionship of those around us.

Whenever you open your presents this year, may the presence of love be for you the best gift you both give and receive.
Blog holiday now for a couple of weeks!

Election Day

Later this evening I’m off to Amersham Common Village Hall to vote in the first December election since 1923!  I’ll probably not wait up to hear the result, due in the early hours of tomorrow morning.

I did attend a local Hustings, organised by the churches of Amersham on the Hill, last Saturday.  Many ‘activists’ from the community attended and although the four candidates all spoke with mutual respect the same, alas, could not be said of the audience.  The tone of many of the questions and the reactions of the majority to the answers offered by the platform party bordered on ‘thug-ish’.  I was deeply disappointed as I left to think that the democratic ‘process’ had sunk to such a low level.

I’m reminded on a day such as this of the efforts of the minister of Westbourne Park Baptist Church, Paddington, at the turn of the 20^th century.  The Revd John Clifford was also an activist and unashamedly put his support behind the Liberal governments of Asquith and Lloyd George.  In the early 1900’s most non-conformists would have automatically voted Liberal even as most Anglicans would have Tory!

Every week the Baptist Times used to carry a front-page article outlining the activities of Parliament as chronicled by a Baptist MP – amazing to think that the Free Church Grouping of MPs in the Commons in those days numbered just under a hundred!

The Revd Dr John Clifford really did believe that the social reforms of Lloyd George, including the introduction of the Old Age Pension in 1907, were evidence of the manifestation of the Kingdom of God.

A hundred years on and the world seems a much more complex place – and I, for one, would never feel comfortable bringing party politics into a sermon, let alone declare publicly in church my position on Brexit!

My prayer today is that those elected tonight will be able to sit in the Commons from Tuesday onwards and ‘collectively’ work together for the good of the country in these difficult days.

Alas, gone are the days when my predecessors would instinctively and automatically have voted for Lloyd George for no other reason than that his background of growing up was that of being a Welsh Baptist!

Ian

View from the Pew

I've started a Sabbatical Project entitled View from the Pew.  Once a month, for about a year, I'll be writing a blog on another site and it can be accessed from a separate blogspot with the following address:

https://viewfromthepewsabbatical.blogspot.com/

Jane Austen's Table

En route to a family gathering with my brothers in Southampton last Saturday, we stopped off at Chawton, near Winchester, and visited the museum which was once the home of one of England’s most loved novelists, Jane Austen.

The place has an atmosphere for it was here, in a settled and stable phase of her life that Jane Austen wrote the majority of her works; for a time averaging one book a year!

Her writing table caught my eye.  It was pushed up against the dining room window so she could catch the light and it was so small!  Not for her a massive desk strewn with rough copy manuscripts.  Instead this shy and tidy author was able to work in a confined place and from such simplicity grew enchanted plots and narratives about family life, love, village life and, of course, money!

I suppose the truth is that Jane Austen’s drive and creativity came from within, so all she needed was pen and ink, paper and this small table.  The results were literary masterpieces that have thrilled readers for generations.

The human spirit, which I believe reflects God’s, is wonderfully resilient and at times flourishes in humble, limited and simple circumstances.  So much of our best comes from within and is not dependant on wealth, luxury or the last ‘must have’ gadgets.

And that means the greatest novels can be written at the smallest tables.

Well-Being

I was struck yesterday to learn that in one of the party manifestoes there is the proposal to include a Minister of State for Well-being in the Cabinet.

‘Well- being’ is becoming one of the hot topics of the moment.  I now regularly hear people on the radio talk of the need to measure a country’s prosperity not simply in terms of its GDP but of its overall happiness.

I suspect we all know there is much truth in the idea that wealth by itself doesn’t bring satisfaction.  For example, there is something of a loneliness epidemic amongst many elderly people.  They have enough money but insufficient friends which does not make for ‘well-being’.

On Tuesday evening we held an end of year party for our Life and Faith Groups at AFC.  These small groups bring people together to study the bible, reflect on the Sunday sermon using art, talk about a book together, knit for baby charities or simply spend time in prayer and meditation.  Each group is about ‘well-being’, giving people safe space to build friendship, explore faith and share service.  By coming TOGETHER our lives as individuals are affirmed and deepened.

The mission and message of Jesus was all encompassing of life.  For him (as for his Jewish ancestors) life was seen as a whole with the physical and spiritual interacting.  Jesus called it ‘abundant’ life and what he talked of is for the ‘well-being’ of us all.

Journeying with Friends

I've spent the middle of this last rainy, windswept week in Staffordshire at the 10th Convocation of The Order for Baptist Ministry.  I was amongst fellow pilgrims and seekers after truth; I was amongst friends at what has become, for me, something of an annual wellspring.

At one of our sessions a young Scottish Baptist Minister shared something of his journey with us.  In terms of delivery and humour he has more than a touch of Billy Connolly abut him - which made him a delight to listen to.  He told us of his journey in and out of faith, his left of centre political activism both at home and in South America, and his times of ministry both as a seminary teacher overseas and in a local pastorate at home.

He finished by asking us to join him in a mental exercise.  We pictured ourselves on a walk and he suggested that, in our mind's eye, as we journeyed, people from our past would join us along the way.

I closed my eyes and set off along a path I often use in London's Green Park.  I imagined formative figures from my childhood sharing the walk with me, a minute later good friends from my young adult years joined, my early family were also present, then lecturers and fellow students from college years came along followed by people from the five churches in which I've served.  And throughout the second half of this stroll through Green Park those I've been closest to - my immediate family - shared the steps with me.

By the time we got to the kiosk and station at the top of Green Park I looked around and saw, (this is just in my mind's eye!), a procession of faces that made me feel immense, almost overwhelming, gratitude.  The possession was so much longer than I had anticipated and from the front I could hardly see my beloved Sunday School teachers at the back.

Our speaker called us back out of silence.  My eyes were misty with tears.  We are not alone.  We are travelling through life with others.  The gift of friendship is a blessing and a touch of God upon our lives.

There were so many good things at this week's convocation, but none more precious than those ten minutes spent on an imaginary walk through Green Park with friends who have blessed my life simply by their companionship and presence on the journey.

Outside 14 Woodside Road

On Sunday  I was shown a fascinating photograph that has come to light of the Amersham Free Church Sisterhood (which was dissolved in 1978).  These ladies are outside the Sycamore Hall - which I'm intrigued is numbered 14 Woodside Road.

I guess this is a postwar photo, maybe even one taken in the 50's?

It felt so good being shown this on All Saints Sunday because just moments before, in our worship, we had lit a candle in memory of those we love but have now died.

As the Sunday afternoon Sisterhood declined, so the Women's Own, held on a weekday at AFC, increased and, indeed, still meets today.

Three rows back in the photo, towards the right is the unmistakable face of young Molly!  Molly died only recently and became one of AFC's most colourful and loved characters.  She grew into an accomplished musician and we miss her still.  It's wonderful to sense that she was encouraged and nurtured within the Sisterhood in her younger days.

At this season of remembrance I'm touched as I look into the faces of the photo.  I see a loving and caring group of committed ladies; you can almost feel their warmhearted welcome - despite some rather formidable 'Victorians' amongst them!

Today's Church is built upon yesterday's saints and we are ever grateful for them.

Ian

As I was saying to the High Sheriff...!

There was something of a party at church on Saturday.  The occasion was a presentation by the Lord Lieutenant of the county of the Queen's Award for Voluntary Service to the Chiltern Child Contact Centre.

The Contact Centre meets on our premises and over the last eight years many in the congregation have served in the roles of Co-ordinator, Chair, volunteer or trustee.  Every other Saturday it offers a safe and secure space in which children can meet and spend time with their non-resident parent.

Saturday was a day when, in essence, the State said 'thank you' to all the volunteers who make the Child Contact Centre happen.

Over the tea and cake afterwards I enjoyed a conversation with the High Sheriff of Buckinghamshire and she told me how proud she was that this year ten, rather than the usual four, Queen's Awards for Voluntary Service have been awarded to various groups in the county.

Mr Google states that in the UK around 20million people regularly 'volunteer' in some way or another; that's 4 in 10 of us!

Ironically I've spent my working life alongside volunteers - because that's the nature of Church; I'm normally the only one who gets paid!

Volunteers are the backbone of churches and many other groups in society.  Their contribution to our life together is immeasurable, and in some small, yet deeply significant and much appreciated way last Saturday, this was made clear and celebrated.

'Loving Neighbour' - it often starts with a voluntary act of kindness.

(Blog Holiday next week)

I've been archived!!

Every month or two we are delighted to receive, through the post, the current magazine of some of the previous churches where I've served as minister.

One arrived last week and I chuckled as I turned to the back page.  Under the title 'From the archives' there was a photo of me!  It came from the early 2000's and showed a group of us just about to set out on a Good Friday Walk of Witness through Malvern.  It was a super picture full of great people I once heard the privilege of working alongside.

I suppose, in one way or another, we have all been achived.  Technically speaking our 'footprint' must be on many official documents gathering dust in government and institutional buildings.  More than that, however, is the emotional, even spiritual, footprint we all leave behind.

Paul, the letter writer, sometimes wrote to those from his past saying, 'I thank God upon every remembrance of you...'.

As I say, upon seeing that picture from  Malvern taken early this century I chuckled with delight as I looked at the faces of folk who brought much commitment and joy to the companionship of church life.

Not a bad epitaph really, to be a good memory in a person's life, so when they think of us - they smile.

Lenin's Fish and Chips

Last Saturday, as is our wont (!), we did a London walk; this time following the route of the River Fleet (now totally underground) from St Pancras, through Clerkenwell and eventually to Blackfriars where it joins the Thames.

En route we wandered passed King's Cross and down the street where, between 1903-10, Lenin and his wife lived.  We learnt from our guide book that the Lenins loved London's fish and chips and we passed the site of the shop from which they bought them.

This rather mundane fact about his eating habits has somewhat changed my perception of this influential Russian who changed the course of 20th century history. It's rather like knowing that Churchill adored the weekly delivery to Chartwell of his favourite fruit cake from Fortnum and Masons.

I was once gardening in the front of a former manse when a church member drove up, lowered his car window and called out with some mirth, 'Oh, you can mow the grass then?'.  It was obviously a revelation to him that the person he usually saw in the pulpit could actually do something as 'ordinary' as push a lawn mower!

All of us are far more than our public face.  Whether we are 'up front' or 'behind the scenes' people we all, inevitably, have an image we perfect and project.  This isn't always helpful because we can misunderstand and misjudge each other too harshly when we fail to appreciate with compassion each other's humanity.  Even our icons enjoy fish and chips, relish fruit cake and, yes, ministers sometimes even cut the grass!

One of the most poignant speeches in Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice is Shylock pleading for a more empathetic understanding of himself and his race:  He says:
If you prick us do we not bleed?
If you tickle us do we not laugh?
If you poison us do we not die?

That's an understanding based on the mutual vulnerability common to all humanity.

In such a light it somehow makes it worth knowing that Lenin loved his King's Cross chippy!

Beauty and the Beast

Last Saturday's Harvest Lunch

Last weekend at our Harvest Lunch we were entertained by an extrovert pianist who loved interacting with the audience!  Introducing one of his numbers, he 'dedicated' it to two of our congregation sitting close to him.  This was unexpected and a bit of a risk on his part as the selection of music he was about to play was from Disney's Beauty and the Beast!  The 'Beast' he selected was our event organiser (who took it in good part) and the 'Beauty' was a lady sitting on a nearby table.  'What do you think about that?', he asked her.  In a flash, with no warning but with great theological insight, she responded,'Well, there's a beauty and a beast in all of us'.

I loved her words and thought them both full of grace and insight.

There is so much truth in what she said and it is reflected by the words of St Paul in Romans 7: For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want I do.

The world is rarely divided into that which is obviously good and bad.  Ethical and political decisions are no where near as clear cut as our press and media hypocritically try to suggest; there are shades of grey everywhere and it needs careful, patient and thoughtful discernment to chart a way forward.

So, I'm grateful to our fellow lunch guest last Saturday for her wise words reminding me that all of us need the grace of God and the forbearance of those around us because in every person there are elements of both 'The Beauty and The Beast'.

With Thanksgiving...

AFC Harvest Festival 2018

Harvest Festivals, like the one we are holding this Sunday, are a Cornish invention.  Apparently it's all due to the Rev Robert Hawker inviting his Morwenstow parishioners to a thanksgiving service in church in 1843.

Festivals such as Harvest invite us to make a connection between life and faith.  So, on Sunday, through our hymns and prayers we'll have many opportunities to give thanks for the beauty of creation and the fruitfulness of the earth and sea.

During this Sunday's service members of our Junior Church will also bring a presentation about water and the challenge of there being either too much or too little of it.  Their presentation is much appreciated because Harvest Festival is also a time for us to think about our stewardship of the world.

An active interest in ecology is surely a necessary part of our faith and it's why we are starting to put 'Eco-Church' on our agendas at AFC.

A piece of good news, that I believe is worth celebrating this harvest season, is the fact that over July and August this year the UK energy capacity rose marginally more in renewables, such as wind power, than in carbon based fuel.  A step in the right direction, I think, and a cause for thanksgiving.

Taking a step back

Listening to the radio this morning I heard the CEO of Microsoft talk of the need for those in his digital industry to ‘take a step back’ and reassess the road technology is going down.  He was concerned at the rapid rise of the internet and the use to which governments, industry and individuals have put it, even talking of its ‘weaponization’; using it for manipulative purposes.

Like most of you reading this, I’ve embraced new technology with enthusiasm and enjoy the benefits of communicating using WhatsApp, writing sermons with the ability to reference facts on Google and write articles on a word processing programme that has a built in spell checker!  Yet I am also aware that all this technology has a downside and that schools these days will have sessions on Cyber bullying.  This week an App was launched, supported by The Duke of Cambridge’s mental health charity, designed to help youngsters keep alert and safe whilst on-line.

‘Taking a step back’ means deliberately pausing and reviewing both the path already taken and the one in front of us.  These can be pivotal moments and forks in the road that determine our future. 

Ralph Waldo Emerson said, ‘A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds’.  In other words, there are times when changing our minds and coming to fresh conclusions is a sign of maturity, not weakness.

As I write the Supreme Court, opposite Westminster Abbey, is pondering whether or not the Proroguing of Parliament this autumn is an abuse of the system.  It’s a ‘stepping back’ moment, to pause the tape and take a considered view.

We all need such moments in our lives because, by and large, life runs on at quite a pace and we can be swept up by events.  Liturgically we do this on Sunday mornings in church as we share in the Prayer of Confession.  Confession includes reflection.  We are called to ponder the events of the last week.  In doing so we are all aware of moments things have been done well and occasions we have fallen short.  In the quietness of prayer we acknowledge all this before God seeking his renewal and help for the week to come.

Centuries of worship has taught us that ‘taking a step back’, such as a time of reflection and confession, can be positive and healthy – even good for the soul.

What's in a name?

I sometimes think that in church life September is the price you pay for August!  After a month of virtually no meetings they all come at once.

So, on Tuesday our Elders gathered.

If we met in other churches this particular group would be called by a different collective.  'Modern' congregations seem to have adopted the title 'Leadership Team'.  A term that has a certain 'thrust' behind it.

Other congregations might call such a group a 'Church Council' emphasising that it is in the coming together that discussions take place and decisions are made.

Most of the churches I've had the privilege to serve in the Baptist tradition have had 'Diaconates' - coming from the Greek word 'servant' - and I've always loved that, the idea that 'service' is at the heart of leadership.

At Amersham Free Church we follow the URC and Presbyterian convention of having 'Elders'.  It's interesting that there is always a delight expressed when younger Elders join!  In a sense the term isn't, I think, so much an age issue but the hope that the experience found within the group will prove beneficial.  Most of the good folk sitting around the table on Tuesday evening have met with similar challenges and joys on the agenda before.  We bring that experience and perspective to our current discussions and that's a blessing.

Whatever our teams are called, all of us in church life know that we need God's help as we seek to serve the local church.

Every Queen's Speech in Parliament ends the same way and it's really a prayer - suitable not only for our MPs but also for our; Leadership Teams, Church Councils, Diaconates and Elderships.  It goes like this: My Lords and Members of the House of Commons, I pray that the blessing of Almighty God will rest upon your counsels.  And a hearty 'Amen' to that!

Eurpoean friendships

On Sunday a member of the congregation, a former RAF pilot in his 90's, told me how his thoughts every September 1st go out to the people of Poland recalling their invasion on what was, effectively, day one of World War Two.

Later on Sunday I caught sight of a news report from Poland and the visit there that day by a dignified German President who 'apologised' for his country's actions eighty years ago.

Over the summer it's been a joy for us to visit both Germany and Austria.  In fact, over the last five years we've deliberately (post children!) made various European countries our destination of choice for holidays.

 Invariably we have been impressed by the courtesy with which we've been received and the sense of history and identity we have found in each place.  I've concluded that many of our continental neighbours find it so much easier than us in thinking of themselves as being, say: German, Italian, Danish or Spanish and, at the same time, European.

Our most meaningful contact has been with a German family and it's been wonderful to twice be guests in their beautiful farmhouse home. We first visited last year with a group from church and on the opening evening after supper our gracious host made a short speech of welcome.  He spoke so eloquently about 'friendship'.  It has clearly been his family's deepest wish to take every opportunity to forge bonds of friendship with folk from Britain whenever possible.

As I listened to his speech it dawned on me that such a desire is essentially 'spiritual'.

 It is driven by the deepest faith convictions that we share a common humanity.  In fact, I suspect that for my German friend the European project can be seen, partly, as an act of 'redemption' for the horrors of the twentieth century.  And that, I believe, is something we should better understand, appreciate and respect.

Howzzat!!

On Sunday evening, on my way home from our monthly Communion service I was surprised to see ten Whatsapp messages from my brothers in Southampton and Spain.  Once back at the Manse I realised they were sharing the nervous tension surrounding the final moments of the cricket World Cup from Lords.  As brothers we do this!  We may not have spoken for weeks, yet come a sporting cup final of any kind and there's an instinct amongst us that we must share the moment together!  Even though I'm the least 'sporty' of the three I love these moments - they are very special!

It's got me thinking this week about the 'community' side of life and how we are simply not made to experience our deepest lows or most exuberant highs alone.

This week thousands of students will have shared their Graduation ceremonies with invited family guests.  Their achievement is a very personal one yet it is to be shared collectively.

On Monday I had the privilege of officiating at the funeral of a wonderful lady well into her nineties.  It was inspiring to see so many people at the crematorium, so much so that the stewards ran out of both orders of service and seats.  It was clear that the guests that morning wanted to be together, to gather around her widower and share the moment with him. Human love and decency at its very best.

And this weekend our family will gather to celebrate an 80th birthday.  I cannot imagine that ever being a private affair!  Cakes have been baked, cards drawn and speeches prepared.  How could it be otherwise?  We all simply want to gather together and sing 'Happy Birthday!'

The notion of God is expressed in the bible as Trinity, a COMMUNITY of love, goodness and light.  We are made to share in that sense of togetherness - it's part of our humanity which reflects the nature of God.

To pinch a line from a one time advert on TV promoting chocolate toffees: Life is meant for sharing!

Have a good summer - the Blog returns in September.

God bless!

Every common bush afire with God...

Elizabeth Barrett Browning 1806-1861

In the book I'm currently reading for our church's discussion group in a few weeks time I came across these inspiring lines by Elizabeth Barrett Browning: Earth crammed with heaven and every common bush afire with God.

I suspect I'm not always so positive as she was and it's easy to imagine she wouldn't have been either if she had lived today amidst some of the most negative news headlines of recent years.

But, that may not be true!  That's because Browning wrote these words against a backdrop of personal struggle, challenge and disappointment.

She was brought up a Dissenter and perhaps she would have felt at least half at home in AFC because she once described herself as 'not a Baptist but a Congregationalist'. All her life she suffered from chronic spinal pain and lung problems, was disinherited by her father upon her marriage to the poet Robert Browning, was passed over for the post of Poet Laureate which, on the death of Wordsworth, went to Tennyson, and had four miscarriages before her son, Pen, was born.  Elizabeth Barrett Browning knew real pain yet continued to write poetry, work for the abolition of slavery and strove for better working condition for child labourers.

To see earth crammed with heaven in the light of Brexit and this week's breakdown in diplomatic trust between the UK and the USA takes some doing, but maybe we become more balanced and whole people when we try to make this connection.

The Jewish Scriptures show us the way in the stories of 'exile'. Even when wrenched from their homeland, our Jewish cousins were encouraged by their faith leaders to seek the good of the new country in which they found themselves, and to pray for its prosperity.

Finding goodness and encountering the divine even on the bleakest of days and in the most alien of contexts is part of a spiritual discipline that sees every common bush afire with God.

Ringing Bells

I heard on the radio this morning that they will be ringing lots of bells in Manchester tonight.

Apparently the idea originates from Yoko Ono to ring a bell for peace.  Hundreds of Mancunians will be doing just that in the Cathedral Gardens and the sound is anticipated to be so loud that ear plugs are being offered free of charge to those listening.

The ringing of bells is up there with the lighting of candles as deeply meaningful and symbolic acts much akin to prayer.  When words seem inadequate or simply can't be found, actions can express the depth of our longing, so why not ring a bell for peace?

When I served in Malvern I was amused to learn that in granting our church 'permission' to build on the lower slopes of the hills in the mid 1890's, Lady Emily Foley stipulated that even though the design had a tower, no bell should ever be hung in the belfry.  She didn't want the Baptist's call to prayer to be in competition with that being sounded by Great Malvern Priory across the road!!

Perhaps today, 4th July, it's worthy remembering the central place 'Liberty Bell' has in the folk lore of the United States.  Although there's no evidence it was ever rung on July 4th, 1776, it is documented that it rang out on the 8th, when the Declaration of Independence was actually proclaimed from the Assembly Hall in Philadelphia.  Years later the bell became a focal point for the Abolitionists and the freedom they sort.

So, ring out the bells in Manchester this evening, each one a heartfelt and worthy prayer for peace.

Smile...

With thanksgiving for Joyce - whose smile inspired us all

Yesterday, in Northampton, I attended the funeral service of one of my Sunday School teachers from years ago.  It was, for all sorts of reasons, a lovely occasion set within the context of loss.

Many uplifting aspects of her character were referred to in the service, yet it was the photos, being projected before the service, which struck a chord with me.  In everyone, even in her latter days in a wheelchair, she was smiling; and that’s exactly as I remember her, along with her inspirational teaching and wonderful example in Sunday School.  Indeed, a friend alongside me said, as we watched the photos, ‘you can almost hear her chuckle, can’t you?’, and I could!

I don’t want to over romanticise it, but a person’s smile seems to be something of a window into their soul.  It says so much, without words, about the essence of who we are.

Earlier this week I, along with other friends from church, sat alongside one of our members who is deep in Alzheimers.  It was deeply moving to be with her, and with those who visit her far more regularly than I.  Her mannerisms were much as I remember them from former days, yet the content of her conversation is now entirely without coherence.  However, her smile remains, and it can light up the room.  At those moments something of her very essence shines through and makes us glad.

As we read of those post-Easter appearances of Jesus greeting his disciples we can only imagine the scene.  I like to think of him greeting those vulnerable friends with a smile, welcoming them back into the fold and reassuring them for coming days.

Smiling – it’s a very precious way of communicating, and... 'Joyce - thank you for yours!'

One small step...

Exactly a month from now, on 20^th July 2019, we shall be commemorating the fiftieth anniversary of the first moon landing.

Apollo 11 left the Kennedy Space Centre on July 16^th, 1969 and on July 20^th the lunar module, Eagle, landed in the beautifully named part of the moon designated as The Sea of Tranquillity. Neil Armstrong was the first man out and as he set foot on the lunar surface broadcast those immortal words: One small step for (a) man, one giant leap for mankind. Minutes later Buzz Aldrin joined him and that day they spent two and a quarter hours roaming the surface, collecting forty-eight pounds of rock to bring back for analysis.  One of those small fragments is now encased in the Lunar Window at Washington Cathedral.  These brave and adventurous astronauts, along with the not to be forgotten Michael Collins, who flew the command module and gave them a lift home, splashed down in the Pacific on July 24^th.

I remember watching all this as an eight-year-old and being transfixed by those fuzzy images as we all gathered around the family TV. 

I know it is probably a much-overused metaphor, but we often talk of our pilgrimage through life as a ‘journey’. 

The journey to the moon is about 239,000 miles and a bright spark has worked out it would take most car drivers six months to complete the journey! 

Yet, maybe the most important journey we make in life is the ‘interior’ one.  We are constantly moving on from one phase of our lives to another for nothing stands still very long.  Sometimes we fear the change that comes our way whilst at other times we embrace it. What is true for all of us is that ‘the next step’ in life is usually a step into the unknown. 

Way back, in 1696, Tate and Brady set the words of Psalm 34 to music and came up with a hymn that urges us to trust in God as our companion and guide.  Their words still resonate with me as I consider that interior journey which is as life changing as any lunar landing:

                                Through all the changing scenes of life,
                                               In trouble and in joy,
                                        The praises of my God shall still
                                          My heart and tongue employ.

aaggghh I've forgotten my mobile....!

The other day a personal crisis of epic proportions came my way!

Whilst driving, en route to a dog walk, it suddenly dawned on me that my mobile phone was missing from my right hand side trouser pocket.  A wave of panic and anxiety filled me, all be it momentarily!

I had left it on the breakfast table.  Later that day I would be attending an organ recital at Southwark Cathedral.  We had got talking over the toast about the history of the place and, as is our custom these days, pulled out the phone to ‘google’ (is that really a verb as well as a noun?!) some information about its antiquity.

Well, despite my irrational fears (because I have existed on this planet perfectly well for half a century before buying my first mobile) I survived the dog walk without a phone and arrived home in one piece.

Just to prove the point, Google tells me the first cell phones came about in the USA in 1973, six years later in 1979 they were used in a car phone network in Japan.  The first portable cell phone, resembling a brick, came on the scene in 1983 and whilst these became popular in America and on the Continent it wasn’t until 1992 that they were introduced to the UK.

It’s hard to believe now that the general public were at first mystified as to why they needed a mobile phone.  Sales were sluggish! 1992 saw the first text message on 3^rd December, it simply said ‘Merry Christmas’.

We got used to mobiles throughout the 90’s and in 2007 the iphone was launched, and the rest they say is history!

I suspect it’s all about that insatiable and intriguing human need for connectivity and although some of us need it more than others it does seem to be a universal desire.

Family and friends who are younger than me have a virtual world of connections that runs into hundreds of people; Facebook and WhatsApp to name just two platforms a dinosaur like me is aware of.

A minister friend of mine is working on a doctoral thesis examining the impact of this idea of ‘virtual community’ upon the Church.

In terms of faith ‘connectivity’ is a big issue.  This weekend congregations around the world will be celebrating Trinity Sunday, a time when we ponder the community of The Godhead and the connectivity between Father, Son and Spirit.

I sense, in my own pilgrimage, that much of my search for meaning and purpose rests on the idea that I am, in some way, ‘connected’ to both God and other people.  That gives me a sense of identity and hope.  It is the essence of prayer.

Whether walking in the countryside or bowing my head in church I think of prayer as the process of making ‘connections’ and sensing my place in the network of life.

Fortunately I can still pray whether or not I’ve remembered to pick up the phone from the kitchen table and that sense of the blessing of God and others in my life is not, ultimately, dependent on the availability of a 5G network.

Pentecost Gloves

Some of the lessons you learn in Sunday School stay with you a life-time; as has one about gloves and the Holy Spirit for me.

I remember my Sunday School teacher holding up a glove.  It was a nice glove – not that as a nine year old I took much notice of their finer points!  She asked how this glove might be transformed and come alive?  We must have been a particularly dense lot because I remember none of us proffered an answer!  Of course, she simply put her hand in the glove and it was instantly transformed into something that moved.  That, she says, is a picture of the Holy Spirit filling the life of the Church enabling us to become the living Body of Christ.

Well, it’s stayed with me all these years; the simplest of illustrations with the profoundest of meanings.

Without the Spirit of God we are merely a very worthwhile institution, yet with His Spirit we become a vibrant expression of God’s love and life for the here and now.

Happy Pentecost on Sunday – and, remembering that Sunday School lesson of years ago, I’ll be taking my gloves to church for the All Age Talk!!

We 'Circled the City'!

After Morning Service on Sunday 19th May 2019 fourteen of us from AFC took the Metropolitan Line into London and joined 500 other people doing the 'Circle the City' sponsored walk for Christian Aid.  We visited twelve churches in three hours and walked either the six or three mile route.  It was great fun and we hope to have raied about £500 for Christian Aid in the process.  Many thanks to everyone who supported us!

Walk finished with medals proudly worn!

Word Morphing

Word Morphing is new to me!

It’s the idea of changing a word by altering a letter.  Apparently, it’s quite big on the internet with open Morphing groups set up with a continuous stream of word transitions going on.

At its simplest morphing happens when you change a letter; so hog becomes log, or tap morphs into map, or when you add a letter; ate turns into gate, ice become mice and so on!

Every week I send my upcoming sermon down the tube so that one of our Elders can print it and make copies available at the back of the church for Sunday morning.  Last week was no exception, so the sermon was duly sent off.  Later in the day I received an email from my astute proof reading elder to say she had taken the liberty of changing the phrase: God wants to give us the foulness of life into…the fulness of life.  She hoped that is what I really meant!!

I was so pleased she changed it.  Yet in a sense that is the morph of grace that we celebrate in the new life Jesus gives us, changing the foulness of our lives into the fulness of life.

Well, I sent this week’s sermon off yesterday and haven’t heard back – so hopefully no morphing this time round!

Watford to Wembley - more than a journey on the Met Line!

Some of the houses around Amersham currently have Watford F.C. scarves hanging from their windows; all in readiness for the F.A. Cup final at Wembley next weekend.

Alongside Wycombe, Watford is really our nearest big town; one I feel a certain affinity to because I was born there!

My grandfather, who had a chance to play for them, turned them down because the money was better in the Fire Service; how things have changed!

I think it would be interesting thinking which positions the Apostles would play if they had ever been a football team.  Maybe Peter would have been the main striker, with James and John (the sons of thunders) in midfield with the rest of them (of whom we know very little) as defenders.  Perhaps Matthew (ex tax- collector so a very solid and reliable type) in goal.  Judas, as he looked after the money, could organise the player transfers and Paul, always a bit pedantic, might have made a good referee!

Actually an ‘apostles’ team’ might not be too far fetched because many famous clubs actually owe their origins to the days of church football teams, perhaps the most famous being Southampton, otherwise called ‘The Saints’, who grew out of St Mary’s Church.  Everton traces its origins back to a Methodist church team. 

Perhaps the closest Watford get to this tradition is that their ground is Vicarage Road!

Team sports create an enormous sense of local identity and I hope Watford have a good day at Wembley next week; I think my Grandfather will be cheering them on from a heavenly grandstand.

Working as team with a sense of purpose and a common aim isn’t a bad comparison with a church.  And just like any football club a church community has its strikers, midfield and defender players.  St Paul used the Olympic running track as a metaphor for the Christian race, perhaps today he’d also have a word or two to say about striving to score a goal in a Wembley Cup Final.

Build My Church

This week, whilst internet browsing, we stumbled upon some original plans for the building of the new Amersham Free Church back in 1962.  It’s rather moving to ponder these drawings of a building yet to be completed.  I can see so much careful thought behind them, much of it arising from the ‘liturgical movement’ that was popular in the Free Churches of that era.

It is, perhaps, remarkable that in the Sanctuary, at least, the building is used today in exactly the way it was envisaged nearly sixty years ago with prayer desk, communion table and pulpit being in use every Sunday in one way or another.

Since these drawings the actual building they aspired to has become a reality and thousands of worshippers have gathered in this sacred space since its opening on Sunday 30^th September 1962.

We never really stop ‘building’ the Church – the real Church – the people, the congregation, the community. 

The building we call AFC houses a community of faith that is constantly changing.  We rejoice when folks settle among us an make us their spiritual home and we are sad, like yesterday, when we hold a service of thanksgiving for a much loved friend. 

I feel quite moved as I look at these architectural plans and realise all the hope they contained for future days – pray God some of those dreams have come to pass as faithful and committed friends have given their all by serving Christ in this place for their time.

Still Singing Hallelujah?

How do you top Easter Sunday?

This coming weekend sees ‘Low Sunday’ and the Vicar of our local Parish church told me, as we were having coffee together on Good Friday, that she won’t even preach a sermon this week as it’s a short service followed by their AGM!

I see that the lectionary reading from the Jewish Scriptures for Low Sunday is Psalm 150, the final one in the temple hymnbook. It’s part of the five so called ‘Hallelujah Psalms’ that bring the book to a close.

I find the presence of these praise songs right at the end of Psalms very encouraging.

The book of Psalms is a mixed bag.  There are psalms to be sung whilst on pilgrimage and others to be almost shouted at God in frustration and lament.  The songs reflect our lives in its ebb and flow.

So, how wonderful that come the end of this emotional journey the Psalmist, in numbers 146-150, still finishes by singing Hallelujah.

I’d love that to be my pilgrimage experience too – that no matter what comes my way in life I can still look to heaven and want to praise God.

I asked a cheeky question at the beginning of this Blog: How can we top Easter Sunday?

Of course, the truth is we don’t have to, because whether it’s April or August every Sunday is a celebration of the Resurrection and Hallelujahs are never out of place.

Easter Day: New Beginnings

Sunday just wasn’t meant to be like this. 

Resurrection is about the unexpected.

Good Friday had been a dreadful day for Jesus’ followers and it ended with a burial.

When I was growing up my journey to school meant that every day I walked through a cemetery.  Yet, when you’re young death seems so far off that my daily brush with tomb stones never really troubled me.

After Calvary the Jesus’ story is all about the tomb.  It’s a borrowed tomb, it has a stone to seal it and by Sunday women are drawn to it because graves and stones, tombs and memorials are all about endings and remembering.

That’s what this Sunday was meant to be about; making the best of it, catching a crumb of comfort that the struggle, even if it ended in defeat and failure was at least a struggle that was now over.  So, the women came to say it with flowers.

Well, at dawn it’s as if it all goes off script.  Resurrection is in the air.  The disciples sense the life of Jesus amongst them once again. Instead of a tomb sealed by a stone the gospels talk of an empty tomb.  No longer is this a memorial to a life snuffed out but a celebration of life to be lived.  It’s not the end of the story but the beginning of the next chapter.

And there are moments, thank God, like that in our lives too.  Moments when we thought we’d come to the end of the road; but then, maybe unexpectedly, seemingly from nowhere, a solution is found, a relationship is restored, new strength is gained and suddenly what we too thought was an ending has the touch of resurrection about it as the love of God and the life of the Spirit and the kindness of Jesus blesses our life once more with hope and new beginnings.

We might be praying for such moments this Easter Sunday – praying for a fresh dawn in the politics of our nation, in relationships within our families, in the spirit of our workplace or in the momentum of our church.

Today’s gospel gives us hope that fresh starts and new beginnings are possible.  What we once thought was inevitably coming to an end has turned out to be the Segway into the next chapter.

Holy Week Meditations: Holy Saturday: Mary

Mary, the mother of Jesus, is a tough cookie.  How her life changed.

Initially we meet her as a young girl shocked to the core that she had been chosen to bear Jesus.  It’s a crisis and it never seems to end.  An out of the way birth followed by a refugee migration.  Maybe the early death of her husband and the infighting amongst her children as to the legitimacy of Jesus’ mission.

Yet, Mary is always there.  She’s there at the end.  When bold men like Peter have melted into the shadows, Mary stays close to Jesus.  Her loyalty, her love, her constancy – all an expression of tough love, deep love, love that never ends.

There is a juxtaposition of opposites at the cross.  Alongside the brutality and violence of nails hammered into palms, a spear that pierces his side, a crown of thorns that draws blood and the lingering death by asphyxiation that crucifixion brought there is also: the loyalty of Mary as she stays close, the companionship of John who stands alongside her and the kindness of Jesus as he entrusts the future of his mother to the beloved disciple.

Loyalty, companionship and kindness – expressions of love on a day marked by brutality, hatred and violence.

Down the centuries that juxtaposition has continued so that even in the bleakest moments those at the centre of the storm have been able to proclaim a belief in the sun even when it isn’t shining.

The essence, I believe of this day, is that in the suffering of Jesus we see God with us.  Immanuel is just as fitting a description of the cross as it is of the manger.  God is with us – in the pain, in the darkness, in the failure, in the agony of loss.  God is with us and that’s why even here as encounter Jesus, John and Mary we meet with loyalty, companionship and kindness on the most terrible of days.

Such love gives us hope and inspires us with courage.

Good Friday speaks into our life and calls us to believe in the sun even when it isn’t shining because God is with us – it’s the way of our Christlike God – it’s the way of the cross.

Holy Week Meditations: Good Friday: Penitent Thief

Strange way to become famous.  To commit a felony and be sentenced to death by imperial Rome, a death by crucifixion.  And then to find the day of execution was the same day, and the place of execution the same hill as those chosen for Jesus of Nazareth.

Strange way to become famous – to be crucified alongside Jesus.

But that’s the story of the Penitent Thief.  A life story we know hardly anything about except for its dying moments.  We don’t know his crime, his name or the finer details of the life he’d lived.  Yet we know something of his end.

This man doesn’t have to go through baptismal classes or recite a creed, he doesn’t need to become a church member or be confirmed.  There are no hoops for him to jump through, no formula of belief to which he must assent.

He simply asks that Jesus remember him. To which Jesus says: today you will be with me in paradise.

I suspect that many of us have more in common with the penitent thief than at first, we might imagine.

Perhaps like him we don’t view our faith journey as primarily a set of protocols through which we must pass. 

Often those protocols are good because rites of passage like baptism or expressions of belonging such as church membership have honourable intentions.

Yet, I suspect, there must be something else that draws us to faith.

I sense the thief saw something in Jesus that made sense to him.  And so, he asks that Jesus remembers him. 

I feel continually inspired and challenged by Jesus Christ.  I’m not sure that Christianity is so much about signing on a dotted line, or saying we understand pages of doctrine as much as it is being drawn to God, a God whose character was expressed in the life and death of Jesus.

As far as we know this thief hadn’t travelled on the road with Jesus.  The Sermon on the Mount had passed him by.

His encounter was brief and focused in mutual suffering.  They were executed together yet Jesus had to bear not just the brutality of the officials who hammered in the nails but also the taunts of the other thief.  The way he suffered, the way he bore that burden seems to have made the deepest impression upon the penitent thief.

This Lent a member of our congregation here at AFC has introduced me to one of his favourite hymns from the old Congregational Hymn Book.  The words are by the early 19^th century poet Jean Ingelow and it’s her hymn: And dids’t thou love.

The hymn focuses on the idea that we see in Jesus’ character something of ourselves and maybe even the better person we could become.

Here are just a few lines:

And didst Thou take to Heaven a human brow?
Dost plead with man’s voice by the marvelous sea?
Art Thou his kinsman now?

O God, O Kinsman loved, but not enough;
O Man, with eyes majestic after death,
Whose feet have toiled along our pathways rough,
Whose lips drawn human breath:

By that one likeness which is ours and Thine,
By that one nature which doth hold us kin,

Love that line describing the likeness which is both Christ’s and ours – a sort of mutual kinship.

And maybe on this Good Friday we, like the Pentitent Thief look upon Jesus and we are inspired by his character, his longsuffering, his dignity.  It’s his humanity that touches us and in his dying something of his life blesses ours.

I suspect we have all been touched by the example of family, friends and colleagues who have faced suffering and sorrow with a dignity and courage that has inspired us.

Good Friday speaks into our life and says it’s sometimes at our weakest moments that our lives will send out the strongest message about the God we believe in  – it’s the way of our Christlike God – it’s the way of the cross.

Holy Week Meditations: Maundy Thursday: Pontius Pilate

Jesus is not the most talkative prisoner in the dock.

When asked if he was ‘The King of the Jews’ – which was, of course a subversive title that had strings attached, he simply bats it back to Pilate and says: ‘The words are yours’.

This trial is going nowhere and already has the stench of corruption about it.

Now fresh evidence is brought to court by the religious authorities.  In their eyes he is blasphemous, yet only the Roman Governor can pronounce the death sentence.  So, they connive with their occupying power to do away with this troublesome preacher from Nazareth once and for all.

In the face of all their accusations Jesus says nothing.  Pilate is astonished by his reticence to justify himself yet when prompted by the governor to mount a defence we are told by Matthew, ‘Jesus refused to answer a single word’.

Maybe he just knew the time for debate was long gone. 

What words would they put on the tombstone in St Paul’s Cathedral of the great architect, Sir Christopher Wren?  Set amid the soaring beauty of London’s new baroque House of Prayer, words seemed superfluous.  So, his son instructed they wrote this on his sarcophagus: if you are searching for his monument, look around.

Maybe there was a similar sentiment running through Jesus’ mind that prompted his silence.

Might he have thought: I don’t have to justify my message of good news.  Just look at my life.  The life I have lived, stretching out to those on the margins, speaking up for the poor and downtrodden, challenging the comfortable status quo – this is the life I have lived, this is the message I have lived.  I don’t have to justify my message of good news just look around you and see my life.

On Good Friday we meet a Jesus who stood before civic and religious leaders, a Jesus who did not shy away from conflict, a Jesus who challenged the way things were done, a Jesus who says faith is not just personal, it’s about the way we live in community – it’s a society thing – it’s a people thing.

Jesus was crucified because he spoke truth unto power.  He lived a life where the last became first and his sermons not only comforted the disturbed, they disturbed the comfortable.

This is the Radical Jesus and the Establishment couldn’t cope with him.

Good Friday speaks into our life and says it’s always right to work for a just and fairer world – it’s the way of our Christlike God – it’s the way of the cross.

The Cross and ....?

The Church Yard at Cores End URC on the Saturday of our Quiet Day

As we met in Lent it seemed appropriate to me to focus the day at Cores End upon the cross.

In our first session I suggested that at various cross roads of his life Jesus deliberately chose the paths that would lead to conflict and suffering – he rejected easier ways. 

In our second session, when, as it were, we had already arrived at Calvary, I suggested that even whilst upon the cross the Lord Jesus chose the way of love and forgiveness in the face of hatred and violence.

So, where do the cross roads leads on our third session?

Well, I don’t know!  Because that is a question we must answer for ourselves.  So, maybe it is better framed as: Where do the cross roads lead me?

We have already quoted Sam Wells today, Vicar of St Martin’s, and in a number of his books he makes the same point again and again – that for him one of the most important things about his faith is a belief not so much in a God who does things ‘for’ us, as the God who is ‘with’ us.

For centuries one of the main ways of looking at the cross has been to see it as that moment when God did something ‘for’ us.  And for many that ‘atonement’ understanding of Good Friday is an important one.

Yet, and I think Sam Wells argues this with some conviction in his little book: Hanging by a Thread, the cross – representing so much of the chaos, failure, confusion and suffering of life, is also the place where God is essentially ‘with’ us.

Maybe, after all the words about how we can explain the relationship between a Good God and the presence of evil in the world – the only answer is to talk of the God who shares the suffering.

At St Martins much of the church’s time is spent working alongside homeless people.  It’s a church that is famous for its annual Radio 4 Christmas Appeal.

In his book entitled The Nazareth Manifesto, Sam Wells reflects on that demanding and seemingly unending ministry.  And once again he makes the point, that the starting place for every helper and worker at St Martin’s isn’t that they are doing something ‘for’ those who are homeless, but they come alongside them and stand ‘with’ them.  Of course, they may be offering professional and practical help – but the experience of those who work in the centre next to the church is that they, the workers, receive as well as give.

Years ago now, when I was a young minister and the BBC still had a lent course on telly – (seems like a different age!) – Charles Elliot, Director of Christian Aid presented a series called Sword and Spirit.  In one scene he was visiting the dust heaps of a South American shanty town.  Children were living on the rubbish heaps, scavenging for food.  Where, he asked, is God in all this misery and suffering?  The only answer he came up with, which – I think is the best he could have given, is that God is here, in the mess, here in the poverty, here in the pain.

Well, at times it may take some believing.  But I believe it is one of the most precious truths this season, so focused on the cross, can offer us.  The God who is with us and shares in our sorrows as well as dancing alongside us in our joys.

So, maybe in this final session we will be asking ourselves where the cross roads lead us.  Yet, we do that with this thought that the cross carrying God always accompanies cross carrying disciples.