Dear Reader...

 Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading this Blog over the years.  I know some of you have done that with a faithfulness that I have found very touching.

Over the next three years, as I head towards retirement, I've decided to put my energy into preaching through the Lectionary Cycle one last time.

So, the blog now comes to a close to enable me to give my best mind to preparing these sermons.  They will be published week by week on the AFC website - if you are interested!

Since 2011 it has been my joy to publish 737 Blogs. My thanks to you for reading some of them!

May you know and sense God's blessing in coming days.

With my very best wishes,

Ian

Good News - not easy news

 

Recently the newspapers have reported that some MPs have been demanding ‘good news’ to counteract some of the gloom and doom that seems to have settled upon current affairs.

Of course, the danger of such a request is that governments ‘spin’ their announcements to make them more positive than they truly are.

For Christians the very term Good News is filled with meaning because it’s a somewhat coded phrase encapsulating the essence of the message that Jesus preached.

Perhaps even we, in the Church, sometimes cry out for Good News.  Yet, if by that we mean words that only comfort, then we might have misunderstood the true message of the gospel.

For, in a way, the sermons of our Lord would have been supressed by most publicists.  What advertising agency would ever have let Jesus preach using phrases such as Take up you cross and follow me, or Enter in through the narrow gate?  This is God’s Good News, but it isn’t easy news.  At the centre of the gospel is the idea of sacrificial service and loving faithfulness, and that’s often a tough call.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer called it The Cost of Discipleship.

Yet, I think deep down we know it’s true.  How often have we heard people say this was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life, but it was also the best thing I’ve ever done.

I’d like to say that about the journey of faith we are on; it may not be easy, but it is certainly good, and Jesus shows us the way.

Learning from the young and old

 

This week my teachers have been a child from Year 1 of a local Primary School and a 90-year-old lady in a residential home.

After hosting a school visit last Wednesday, this week we received the drawings they made on their return to class.  Almost all the children seemed impressed by the number of chairs we had, so these figured highly in their artwork.  One student, however, when focussing on the Chancel area had drawn the Communion Table with the Bible on it, and in the Bible had written, in smallest of letters the word g o d.  I was so touched by that, and by their insight.  That God was part of all that is going on at the front of the church.  Perhaps it was juvenile theology, yet I thought it profound in its own way.  To see that a child had written g o d over the bible resting on the Lord’s Table made we glad.

And then, today, at the end of a monthly service in a residential home a lovely lady introduced herself to me and said as I was about to go A little faith fills a big hole. I smiled at her and said that was a lovely thought, beautifully put, stating I’ve never heard that before.  No, she said with a twinkle in her eye, that’s because I’ve only just thought of it! She repeated it one more time, putting both hands over her heart as she did so, as if to say it’s true for me. I came away feeling truly blessed for such a privileged conversation.

Our teachers come in all shapes and sizes, and all ages.  And through them, praise God, we hear the Whisper of the Spirit, and our hearts are glad.

I hope you enjoy the summer.  The Blog will return in the middle of September – after my Jury Service!  

What a difference a week makes

Looking at the pictures of Britain’s new Prime Minister visiting the President of the United States at the White House yesterday was a reminder of what a difference a week can make in someone’s life.  This time last Wednesday Sir Kier Starmer was on the campaign trail, this Wednesday there was a seat waiting for him in the Oval Office. Life can change very quickly!

Of course, the same is true in reverse for all who are no longer in office because of last week’s vote.  Salaries, titles, cars and staff have all been surrendered as their lives have moved on too.

This quick turnover is also apparent in the daily headlines.  Today’s news can often sit just briefly on the frontpage before being knocked off by something more interesting or scintillating tomorrow.

Looking back on a few headlines from July in years gone by brings back memories.

Some have been long remembered such as 30th July 1966 when England won the World Cup.  Others perhaps not so much such, like York Minister’s South Transept burning down after the cathedral was struck by lightening on 9th July 1984.

Of course, in the old days, yesterday’s newspapers were used for nothing more than to wrap today’s fish and chips!

Perhaps we experience something similar in our own lives too.  At the time a particular crisis or challenge can be all consuming.  Yet, given the passage of time, as life moves on, its significance can diminish; we might even end up years later wondering why we worried so much about it.

Of course, there are some headlines and some issues whose importance and relevance stays the course of time. I suspect that the headline for 21st July 1969 with a picture of Neil Armstrong walking on the moon will never fade.

And I feel that about the stories and teachings of Jesus; that they have a relevance that transcends generations.  It’s amazing in our fast-changing world that the bible stories we’ll hear in church this July in the time of Charles III were being listened to by church goers in the time of Charles I. Our task, whether we are a preacher, listener or reader, is to take these Bible Headlines and apply them to our contemporary life.

I used to sing in Sunday School Tell me the old, old story. It’s a story that I believe is ever new and worthy of our attention. 

Choose you this day...

 

After a long campaign Election Day has dawned and by Friday the result of the only poll that ever mattered will be known.

For all its faults it’s surely a cause for thanksgiving that government changes hands peacefully in the United Kingdom.

At my school we had our own Student Parliament and I stood (and won!) in the 4th Year Elections.  However, my career in politics did not last long as I gave it all a miss by the 5th Form!

Elections, during the Edwardian years at least, were never covered impartially by the Baptist Times. There was never any doubt in those days that the only party the Baptist Union supported was the Liberal Party.  All the personal failings of Lloyd George and Asquith were forgotten as ministers such as The Revd Dr John Clifford of Paddington urged the readers of the denominational journal to mobilise and fight for the return of a Liberal government.  By the middle of the 20th century such partisan reporting ceased, and the Baptist Times became a tamer and more neutral publication.

Pictures from South Africa in the 1990’s showing the first election in which citizens of every colour had the right to vote probably stick in all our minds.  Archbishop Tutu danced as he waited in line to vote, whilst many shed tears of joy that such a day had come in their lifetime.

Ministers, from both the Baptist and URC traditions, know from personal experience what it feels like to be on the other side of an election because we are chosen by ballot by the congregation, rather than imposed upon them.

Joshua challenged the people to choose you this day who you will serve…Today many of us will exercise a civic duty to make a different sort of choice.  To choose a person or a party that we hope merits our cross beside their name.  Perhaps too, as we make our mark, we will also remember that scriptural injunction to pray for those in authority over us whoever they are.

Yes...No...Maybe

 

In the current book being read by the AFC Book Discussion Group, Walk Humbly, the Vicar of St Martin in the Fields, Sam Wells writes there are always three answers to every question: Yes…No…and Maybe.  And usually, the best one is number three.

That may frustrate us if we tend to look for those binary choices of yes or no.  Yet life is rarely that straightforward, and neither is faith. 

Most answers do have to factor in Maybe.  The maybes of life have to take into account you, me, others, events, history; the list is endless because context is so important.

It's because binary choices are so rarely available that law making is so complex and religious thought is always evolving. 

In one of the recent TV Election debates I was horrified to see that candidates were only given 45 seconds to answer the question.  Tik Tock has a lot to answer for!  As a society we really do have to become more serious as we wrestle with the big issues that are never clear cut.

During his ministry Jesus so often challenged his hearers to think outside the box and reject the standard answers of the day.  He lost his life because he was so radical in challenging the status quo.  Part of being a disciple of Jesus today is to seek to be a thinker; someone who looks for answers that are longer than 45 seconds, answers that may be Yes or No, but will probably more often be Maybe.

Crucial to that process is always seeking to factor in God’s love, justice, mercy and kindness to the issues that are before us, because the character of God is always part of the answer to any question we might ask.

So, keep asking the questions and in the struggle may you hear the whisper of God helping you through.

Experiencing Christian and Hindu funeral rites

 

Yesterday we had the great privilege of hosting a multi-cultural/religious funeral for the husband of one of our members.  The family, with Sri Lankan roots, wanted to honour the Christian heritage of their mother alongside the Hindu traditions of their father.

So, in our church hall, a service of Christian prayers was held before the Hindu funeral rites were performed.

I think all of the folk from AFC who helped out behind the scenes felt it was such a special and worthwhile occasion.

One of the most profoundly moving things I learnt preparing for yesterday is the Hindu tradition that on the day of the funeral the family make financial provision for food to be distributed to the needy from a local temple.  Also, that since the day of her husband’s passing until his funeral the family haven’t needed to cook, because members of the Sri Lankan community have called every evening with freshly cooked meals.

I was so impressed by the generosity of heart behind both of these wonderful traditions.  Customs based on love.

In the blending of cultures and rituals we witnessed yesterday it was this sense of love that united us.  It was palpable and crossed the divide of language and culture.  As we bade farewell to a much-loved family member, a spirit of love infused both the Christian and Hindu rites.

Tinker...Preacher...Author

 

Recently I’ve enjoyed becoming reacquainted with Pilgrim’s Progress in preparation for a talk I’m giving this coming Tuesday at LunchBreak.

Amersham is just on the edge of John Bunyan country as we back on to Bedfordshire.  Indeed, the Delectable Mountains in the book are thought to be based on the Chiltern Hills!

The 1600’s were years of religious turmoil in Britain, and it was all tied up with the country becoming a brief Republic under Cromwell and then resorting back to Monarchy under Charles II.  Throughout this period the Puritans were either guiding events or suffering from them.

Bunyan, the Tinker Preacher, was a Puritan Christian who was arrested because he preached outside the jurisdiction of the Church of England.  For that he was imprisoned in Bedford Goal for twelve years.

Yet, and I find this wonderfully ironic, it was during these years that he found a voice that would turn out to be greater than any sermon he could ever have given, because it was whilst in prison that he wrote Pilgrim’s Progress, published in 1678.

Today no one remembers the name of the priest who reported his illegal preaching, or the judge who sentenced him.  Yet Bunyan’s magnum opus has never been out of print and is today translated into 200 languages.

It’s often strange how things work out; and I’d say that even when he lost his freedom John Bunyan found a different sort of voice and used it for God!

Given a voice

Over the last couple of days, either side of the Channel, we have been commemorating the bravery and sacrifice of thousands of young soldiers during the D Day campaign of June 1944. Although world leaders have attended and made speeches it’s the voices of the survivors, or the written words of those who took part, that have meant so much. 

Voices from the past are precious and we are richer for hearing them.

There can be no doubt that those who have been blessed with life after D Day are full of gratitude for these years and immensely conscious of their mates for whom such a future was so cruelly denied because of the tragedy of war.

Whilst watching some of the coverage my mind went back to a conversation I once had with a much respected member of AFC, a lady who died a fortnight ago.  She lived with such open-hearted principles and rose to become a Head Teacher.  On one occasion when we ate together at a Tuesday LunchBreak, she told me how, in her young adult years, she had gone over to Europe every summer on camps specifically designed to rebuild a fractured continent, both emotionally and physically.  She spoke with such conviction of the place those camps still had in her heart.  Not only had she enjoyed being able to help with the physical rebuilding of Europe, she had also relished the opportunity to work alongside young people her own age from every country – on either side – who were now building friendships across the divide and establishing a different future.

This week I give thanks for all who gave their lives for our freedom and for all who have worked so hard to make the most of these years of freedom since 1945. This, so called, Silent Generation, have been given a voice this week, and we are profoundly grateful for their words.

The Parson's Nose

 Whilst clearing out some files the other day I came across a drawing from 30 years ago.  It was used at a church fete back in the 90’s and features ‘yours truly’ under the title Hit the Parson’s Nose.  A copy of this was placed on a board and for the grand sum of 20p the punters were given three darts to throw at hit.

Alongside being amused to rediscover the drawing I was also intrigued about the origins of the phrase Parson’s Nose.  We might all be aware of it being used in relation to a turkey at Christmas, but I wondered where it came from.

Apparently it originates from a falling out between a church carpenter and a parson at St Mary’s Church in Nantwich in the 1400’s.  The carpenter hadn’t been paid by the rector so carved an unflattering image underneath one of the choir stalls.  It showed a chicken with the parson’s face attached to its rear end!  Obviously both an insult of, and a rebuke to, the church’s incumbent.  And so, the phrase Parson’s Nose has stuck.

It’s a little sad that 600 years on the only thing we really know about this rector and carpenter is the argument between them.  Not quite what Paul had in mind when he penned those words in Ephesians of not letting the sun go down on your anger.

The message of Pentecost is essentially the opposite of that from this incident at St Mary’s Nantwich.  Instead of division the coming of The Holy Spirit, which we celebrated on Sunday, is about the bringing of unity.  A common language was heard in Jerusalem that day; symbolic of the unity that God’s love and presence can bring to our world.

The drawing is now in our downstairs’ cloakroom, but no darts are any longer available!

The blog returns in a fortnight.

Ascension to Pentecost

 

This week, as far as the Church calendar is concerned, we’re in an in-between time.  Ascension was last Thursday and we’re heading towards the festival of Pentecost this coming Sunday.

Whilst leading the opening devotions at our recent meeting, one of our Elders reflected on that farewell moment of Jesus at Ascension.  She said how much she appreciated that the greeting goodbye comes from the Old English meaning God be with you. She pondered that such a thought might make parting a little easier.

Well, we’re told it was as he was blessing them that Jesus departed from his disciples.  And they consequently seemed up for their new future, returning, we are told, to Jerusalem joyfully.

Pentecost, ten days later, celebrates that God is with us, by his Spirit.  Its message, in the early days of summer, reflects that of Christmas held in mid-winter, of Immanuel, God alongside us.

An old illustration, often used at children’s services at Pentecost is of a glove, lifeless without a hand, yet utterly transformed when filled by our fingers.

We humans find our lives filled with energy and purpose in so many ways, and we gain life giving inspiration from so many sources. I like to attribute all that good energy to the ministry of God the Holy Spirit filling and en-livening us.

Another, much loved image of The Spirit is the dove – we particularly think of the gospel picture of one descending , as it were, on Jesus at his baptism – a sign and seal of God’s presence and filling.

In a few weeks time, in Paris at the Olympics, the world will gather together for a festival of sport.  In our fractured times the Olympics, we hope, might bring us together, and what better a symbol of our shared humanity being blessed by the presence of our Alongside God than the release of hundreds of doves into the air above Paris.

May God’s Spirit of peace and strength, enliven us this and every day.

Ascension - the Joyful Festival?

 Today is Ascension Day and many church choirs will have climbed the stairs to their parish church tower to greet the dawn and ‘sing in’ this rather obscure Christian festival.

Endings create beginnings.  That’s what’s happened in Scotland this week with the change of First Minister.  It goes on all the time and we are grateful for it.

Yet I’m struck by just how joyful the Ascension seems to have been for those involved.  Maybe that’s because in Acts it happens forty days after Easter and Jesus has had time to fully say goodbye to his disciples.  However, that isn’t strictly true in Luke, when this seminal moment appears to happen on the evening of Easter Day.

Whatever it’s timings, this myth narrative has much to teach us.

I’m particularly drawn by  two things.  Firstly, it was as he was blessing them that he was taken up to heaven.  Secondly, once they had seen him depart, they returned to Jerusalem full of joy.

So, it seems that this part of the ‘birthing’ of the Church was an occasion full of hope and optimism, lived in the glow of Christ’s departing blessing.  And I find that encouraging.  Whatever challenging tasks were before them, it seems the Ascension gave these disciples a great sense of hope and a deep sense of joy.  Pentecost would, in a way, complete the picture with its gift of energy and strength.

My prayer, on this Ascension Day, is that we too can live with that same sense of joy.  Joy in the continuing task of living out the life of Jesus Christ for the here and now.  The baton has been passed on from generation to another, it started on that first Ascension Day as Jesus blessed his disciples even as he was taken from them.  We are now the ones running with this baton of hope, joy and peace – God grant us the strength not to drop it!

 May the blessing of Jesus still be ours this Ascension Thursday 2024.

Holding the Pole

 

Yesterday we entered a new month as May dawned.  Traditionally one of those days we think of as marking a transition as we slowly make our way into the seasons of late spring and early summer.  Even on the dullest and wettest of days our gardens are certainly telling us that change is on the way!

My Junior School marked May Day with the customary dancing around the pole in the playground.  However, I don’t remember hanging onto the coloured ribbons and skipping around because I, alongside the other tallest boy in the class, had the ‘honour’ of being chosen to hold the pole.  Not the most glamorous of jobs, and after half an hour quite tiring.  So, I have a somewhat chequered view of May Day!

The Roman Catholic Church marks May 1st as the saint’s day for Joseph the Worker.  (He has a double entry in the calendar being also mentioned on March 19th).  Choosing May 1st was one pontiff’s answer to the Socialist Movement’s adoption of this date to commemorate all workers.

Jospeh, as carpenter, husband, and father, is a somewhat shadowy figure after the birth narratives and the visit to Jerusalem when Jesus was a small boy. We think of him simply being there, a supportive presence in the wings, rarely talked about yet constant – until he wasn’t, probably through an early death.

There is, surely, a place for the bit part players in both the biblical story and the experience of any local church today.  People who, out of the limelight, contribute so much behind the scenes. 

I’m always impressed by the women, briefly mentioned in the gospels, who supported the mission of Jesus financially.  They played their part and enabled others to play theirs.

And that, in a sense is what I did all those years at Junior School.  So, around this time of May Day and the feast of Joseph the Worker, let’s give thanks for all who hold the pole, so that others may make their dance.

Where your trasure is...

 

I often use the phrase Seekers after Truth when I’m leading worship because I think it’s an honest description of where most of us find ourselves on the Journey of Faith. 

There are some Christians, and they are usually very sincere, who would view themselves rather differently as Guardians of Truth. They believe in a prescribed orthodoxy which has various ‘tests’ and ‘benchmarks’ used to determine if you are in or out.

I sometimes think of faith in terms of a wonderful box of treasure.  Guardians of Truth want to keep it secure and under lock and key. Yet, to me at least, that feels as if we are putting God in a box.  Of course, we cannot do that because God is bigger than us!  Instead, I find it more helpful to think that Seekers after Truth delight in opening the box and exploring all that is good, helpful and inspiring within.  A treasure box that, however many times opened, always has something new.

Perhaps my picture is too simplistic, yet it does reflect some basic differences in the way we Christians face contemporary ethics.  Whist some enthusiastically quote proof texts (they never actually show absolute proof, by the way) I prefer to search for core principles from the Bible and then apply them to modern day contexts in a less literal approach.  For example, the Bible actually encourages slaves to obey their masters and for women to keep silent in church.  Yet no Christian today would approve of slavery and most value that God speaks just as much through women as men.  These passages of scripture cannot just be read literally, they need to be understood contextually.

All of that demands a fair bit of work.  It’s the sort of work we all need to do in seeking to address many ethical issues today, such as sexuality and marriage.

There is a wonderful line from an Iona hymn that asks for God’s help as we use the faith we’ve found, to reshape the world around.

Using faith demands much thought and prayer and lots and lots of seeking.

Othering

 

I belong to a couple of book discussion groups, and both have looked at the former Chief Rabbi’s brilliant tome entitled Not in God’s Name.  It’s a masterpiece in analysing conflict, both personal, national and international, especially with reference to religion.

The late Lord Sacks was keen to start from a position of empathy and treat that as our norm.  We don’t like to see another person hurt because we know what it feels like to be hurt ourselves.  We have a natural in-built empathy.  Yet, we have to discard that when we hurt people, either one to one or in a state of war.  And the way we often enable that violence to take place is to make our enemies something ‘other’ than ourselves.  If they are not really like us, but are ‘other’ from us because of their religion, history or location, then we accept that we can hurt them and we don’t feel their pain in the same way. And I find this a compelling analysis. 

Whether it’s those Europeans, Boat People or the people on the ‘other’ side of all the 30 wars currently being waged in our world, violence and rejection flourish most if we think of them as fundamentally different from us.

Yet, they are not.

The tragedy is that whilst technology enables us to live in a world that has never been more interconnected, we find ourselves in one which is so tragically divided. 

We long and pray for voices that will speak up for dialogue as the only way forward.  Hard, uncomfortable, exhausting dialogue instead of violence against our enemies that simply creates a whole new generation of hatred and militancy.

In this season of resurrection and new life we long for a glimpse that the pointless violence will stop, and the talking begin.

Easter Meals

 

Meals figure a great deal in the Easter narratives.

The one in the upper room is full of companionship, although tense at times.  And the remembrance of that night has become the most important meal of The Church. 

The Emmaus meal, although almost finished before it began, holds a treasured place in the Easter sequence.  This enigmatic encounter, culminating in a single gesture of breaking the bread, an action that said a thousand words, warms our hearts today as much as it did Cleopas and his friend’s two thousand years ago.

And post Easter Sunday there was that breakfast meal by the lake as Jesus meets his disciples and reinstates a dejected, yet still faithful Peter. 

I’m thinking of meals because yesterday I felt I had one of those ‘God moments’ that touched my heart.  It was the Tuesday of Holy Week and at Tea at Three, in our church hall, I was in conversation with a church member over some delicious chocolate Brownies.  She may live in a care home and is faithfully brought to services and events by a wonderfully loving husband, yet she has great and often insightful theology!  For she said, unprompted: When we sit here at Tea at Three, we are in the presence of Jesus just as much as when we sit in church.

I loved hearing that!  Some may call it The Real Presence, but my friend just called it the presence of Jesus.  And I believe she’s spot on.  Just as our Lord was present in the upper room, at Emmaus and by a beach barbeque, his living and life sustaining presence is with us still, whether singing hymns of faith in church or eating chocolate brownies with good friends around a table in a church hall on a Tuesday afternoon.  And in a sense, that’s what resurrection is all about – those daily encounters with our living Lord. 

May God’s blessing be yours this Holy Week and, come Sunday, let’s join together wherever we are and proclaim Christ is Risen, He is Risen indeed, Alleluia!

Blog returns in two weeks.

Palm Sunday -from the donkey's point of view

 

We, that is mum and I, are usually tethered at a village just outside of Jerusalem called Bethphage.  We are beasts of burden, so Mum tells me; she’s the donkey and I’m her foal, the colt.  I’m getting used to it, all the carrying, sometimes people more often hessian bags of grain or paniers of olives from the groves just below our master’s house. 

I’d seen this Jesus before, he’d been a guest of my master a few times and I saw his coming and going and lots of laughter and then serious silence indoors as they had a meal.  I think it’s because he’d seen me and mum a few times that he sent word that day that he needed us to take him into the city.

It was a bit out of the blue.  The day before, a Sabbath, we’d stayed tethered up from sunrise to sunset enjoying the warm spring air.  Today, Sunday, was meant to be a working day, the first day of our working week and I know we were needed down at the olive grove because the pickers were already there and soon there would be baskets to carry up to the barn.  But then we heard the voices, something about Jesus needing us and without a moments hesitation my master gave the go ahead and mum and I were led away.

We met up with Jesus and he sat astride me with mum walking alongside. Without a second thought we were off.  I could see the twisty road leading from just outside Bethphage up to the city.  His disciple friends, one or two had been to my master’s house with Jesus, followed on.  I thought it would be a quiet, sedate journey up to Jerusalem.  Pilgrims had been passing our farm for days now, all going up for Passover.  So, I thought nothing of it – Jesus needed a lift and I had been chosen to take him.

And then we turned the first corner and people stood by the track smiling.  Some waved and one person put down their shawl and I walked over it.  This was strange and like no carrying I’d ever done before.

Jesus patted me on my neck and calmly said walk on.  Round the next bend we met a couple of family groups, and these had cut some palm branches and were waving them as we passed.  They shouted Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. And someone called out hosanna and then everyone joined in calling it out too.

Halfway to Jerusalem and the momentum had picked up. More and more people stood by the trackside, they threw their shawls on the pathway, waved branches and shouted words of greeting.  Mum had developed a slow and steady pace, so I followed her lead.  It was exciting and I felt important.  No one ever takes notice of donkeys, but today we led the procession, and the cheering made us feel proud.

All the time my passenger, Jesus, calmly patted me and spoke words of gentle reassurance, so I never once felt scared. And I saw our owner out of the corner of my eye, he’d joined the procession and was even waving a palm branch as he went.

Once at the city wall we stopped.  There was now quite a crowd behind us, for some hadn’t just cheered from the roadside but joined in with the procession.

Jesus took mum and I and handed us back to our master, shaking his hand before entering the city.  And so, we were taken home, but this time the journey was quiet and predictable, no cheering and waving, and once again we became invisible beasts of burden, just part of the scenery, always there but never noticed.

Later that week I heard my master talk to some of Jesus’ friends, they now looked so worried and I wondered if something bad had happened to the one who sat astride me that Sunday.

Mum told me yesterday that Donkey folk lore has it that some years ago one of us took a lady who was expecting a baby to Bethlehem, a town not too far from here. Apparently, that donkey said, the night of the birth there was a bright star, angels singing and the strangest visit of some shepherds.

Seems to me us donkeys sometimes play a part in events that are important.  There’s more to us than simply pinning a tail on!  Because twice in history we had a walk on part in what, I sense, has become the greatest story ever told.

A Loaf of Bread

 

My wife got a bit cross with me the other day for buying a bread more expensive than our usual.  Apparently, there are now 200 different sorts of bread available in the UK.  Well, I purchased one that didn’t cost the usual £1.20, but £2.20.  Trouble is my wife is a maths teacher so she can quickly shame me by working out the cost of each slice!  Rather takes away the fun.

Well, it got me interested to do a bit of research into bread and I learnt that 99.8% of us eat it, that’s no less than 11 million loaves baked every day in Britain.  Typically, every individual eats 60 loaves a year, and of that 50% will be consumed in sandwiches.

In Jesus’ time most bread was wholegrain – not the refined white bread we often have today, and the Jewish law allowed for 10% of a loaf to be gritty!  Archaeologists often discover that people’s teeth from this period have been ground down because of the bread they ate!

The poor had the cheapest form of bread which is Barley bread – as featured in the story of the Feeding of the 5000.

I have a small rock at home that I often bring out in Lent which I think looks remarkably like a bread roll – it wouldn’t do your teeth any good at all as it’s 100% grit!

 It’s a rock that reminds me of Jesus time in the desert, during his temptations which we remember during these days of Lent, when our Lord refused to turn the stones into bread just to satisfy his own hunger.

 Interesting that, because later on at the Feeding of the 5000 that’s exactly what he did with the 5 loaves of barley – so what’s the difference?

 Well, in the wilderness Jesus would have been using his powers just to serve himself and at the Feeding of the 5000 he was using them to serve others.

I think he was teaching us a great lesson there, that serving God is essentially about serving others, being generous with our time and helpful to others with our talents.

During these days of Lent, we recall that Jesus once said he did not come to be served but to serve.  And we give thanks for all those who serve us with their generosity, love and kindness everyday.

A warm welcome from Harlesden

 

On Sunday we travelled into north London for the annual Harlesden exchange between AFC and St Margaret’s and St George’s URC and Moravian Church.  Whilst I went there, The Revd Edwin Quildan came over to Amersham and led the service with The Revd Heather McIntyre.

As on all the other occasions I’ve been to Harlesden we were welcomed with great warmth.

The congregation is predominantly of Jamaican origin, and it was so interesting sitting with folk afterwards in the church hall as the conversation turned to Windrush.  Some of them were comparing notes on whether they came to Britain on board the ship or, because of school scholarships, flew over.  ‘History’ is so different when it is personal.

Alas the organist was ill on Sunday, so we had an acapella service.  It was never a problem, for someone from any part of the congregation gave us a lead, and the singing was strong.

Harlesden is such a blend of traditions.  The building itself has a Presbyterian past and, in its own way, is quite magnificent.  The service mixed together URC and Moravian tradition (the later was particularly felt in the set liturgy used for Communion) alongside just a touch of Pentecostalism with ‘testimony’ time and much extemporary prayer.

We might have started off with twenty worshippers at 11am but within fifteen minutes the congregation had doubled to forty.

After the service we decamped to the coffee hall for bananas, cinnamon biscuits and doughnuts and lots and lots of laughter.  We lingered so long that I even had the opportunity to meet up with Edwin who called in on his way back from Amersham – all made possibly by clear roads and the fact that AFC’s service is 30 mins earlier than Harlesden’s.

We came away so pleased to have shared worship with our sisters and brothers there, we were blessed by their smiles and sincerity and our prayers stay with them as they continue to serve God with great faithfulness in that part of north London.

Happy St David's Day!

 

We don’t know too much about St Dewi, yet he is alleged to have encouraged his students to do the little things for God.  Not bad advice, especially when so much in today’s world seems so very overwhelming. 

Today is also the World Day of Prayer and this year the service has been prepared by the women of Palestine. A part of the world that has been much in our thoughts and prayers these last five months.

It’s hard for any of us to see a way forward and for that reason I was especially glad to hear from a neighbouring priest a few years ago of the three months he spent with the World Council of Churches ecumenical accompaniment programme in Israel and Palestine.

This brilliant scheme has, over the years, given some 1800 people a real experience of living and working alongside both Israelis and Palestinians in the West Bank. At any one time there are about 25 people engaged in these three-month placements, many will be based in Jerusalem and supported by the international church centre there, making regular, even daily visits, to the West Bank.  As they sit alongside both traditions their understanding grows, so when they return home, they can share what they have learnt and experienced with others. 

 

Prejudice is about us making the biggest decisions about people with the smallest amount of knowledge.  Accompaniment programmes, like this one run by the World Council of Churches, helps to correct that.

All the geo-political conflicts of our time need a deep understanding of local and cultural issues.  It may seem such a little thing to be part of an accompaniment programme, yet this scheme exemplifies the concept that dialogue and engagement is the only long-term solution.

Dydd Gŵyl Dewi Hapus – Happy St David’s Day – and keep on doing the little things.

What is Lent?

 

Lent is now in its second week, and I wonder what we might make of this long and loosely defined season of the Church Year?

We discussed this at our Life and Faith group yesterday evening.  It soon became apparent, at least with those of us who grew up in non-conformist churches, that Lent hardly figured at all in our youth.

One of my predecessors at AFC, The Revd Neville Clark, helped change all that in Baptist churches.  For he belonged to a somewhat eccentric group of ministers called The Cassock Club, who introduced more liturgical worship into the British Baptist tradition during the 1950’s.  Alas, their impact was rather short lived, yet one of their lasting legacies would be that many Baptist congregations at least give a nod and a wink to Advent and Lent today.

So, over the next six weeks or so I’ll be wearing a purple stole (the liturgical colour for Lent), and we’ll sing hymns from the Holy Week and Passiontide section of the hymn book.  More than that, as we travel with the lectionary, we’ll reflect on the stories of Jesus as he made his way from Galilee to Jerusalem and The Cross.

In recent years there’s been a helpful idea that, rather than simply giving something up for Lent, we might take something up which is positive and helpful to others.

And, as one of our Life and Faith group so helpfully said, Lent is that annual opportunity to do some serious thinking about personal faith.

 For me, the most important question Lent asks is: Who was Jesus?  It’s a crucial question and well worth spending six weeks pondering.

History teaches us...

 

Yesterday it was my privilege to lead the Free Church service at St Alban’s Cathedral.  As I looked around the impressive architecture, I remembered our first visit there as a guide told us that some of the stones from a former pagan temple had been incorporated into the building of the Abbey.

The past always influences the present.  We simply don’t live in chronological
isolation because what happened yesterday, the way we thought and lived back then, has a bearing on what’s going on in our lives today.

As we pour over recent news stories of invasions, conflicts and political upheaval we may indeed have a sense of DeJa’Vu; we’ve surely been here before and, of course, we have.

I’m sometimes surprised to hear people speak of current events as if they were the worst of all time.  Any casual appreciation of history would see that a hundred years ago our world was also struggling after pandemic, stood on the brink of war, and was collapsing under the Great Depression.

Of course, the past doesn’t solve the problems of today.  It may not even offer the right solutions because of the nuisances of every generation.

Yet the past can comfort us, reminding us that we have been here before and survived, and perhaps in some situations even thrived.

The past can inform us as we stand at the fork in the road, yet we must make our own decisions on what way to take.

That’s where the bible stories we hear at church and read at home can be our guide and compass.  For they speak, even thousands of years after first being penned, of issues that are still relevant.  These narratives are both helpful and comforting.  Yet, after reading them we have to make up our own minds about the directions and decisions we take.

Next week we will enter Lent and be reminded of, what we Christians believe is, the greatest story ever told.  The stories of Jesus can be our guide as we stand at all the crossroads of life.

Blog holiday next week.

When small is beautiful

 

The other day I was intrigued to read an article on the internet about a seeming return of interest in small churches.  It was written by a pastor of such a congregation, and he was just wondering if there is something of a sense of renewal in smaller churches since the pandemic?

Congregations often long to be bigger than they are – and nothing wrong in that.  For all sorts of right reasons such aspirations can be applauded.  Yet so too can the idea that small churches have a lot to offer.

Perhaps I should admit here that I’m not exactly sure about the numbers and the maths that makes a congregation thought of as either large or small and, of course, everything is relative!

The writer of the internet article has been pleased to see new people, especially over Christmas, come along to his small congregation.  In talking to them he’s become aware that they have enjoyed the more intimate and personal atmosphere of worship they have found and that, for some, it has brought a greater sense of belonging to a church ‘family’ than what they were used to in a bigger, yet more impersonal, context.

It made me recall a comment made at home by an extended family member over Christmas, that she actually enjoyed smaller, rather than larger, family gatherings.  When there were just five or six of us she naturally shares in the conversation, but when there are thirteen she just becomes a passive observer.

Maybe different types and sizes of congregation feel appropriate to folk at different stages of life. 

We rejoice in congregations of all sizes and the internet article reminded me that sometimes small is indeed beautiful.

Praying for those in authority

 

I’ve recently been reading up on Ramsey MacDonald who, a hundred years ago this week, became Britain’s first Labour Prime Minister.  I did this for a LunchBreak talk and afterwards a member of the audience told me that Ramsey MacDonald, whilst an MP, selected Amersham as his weekend home and lived at Chesham Bois just down the road from the church!

He was a Scot and Prime Minister of the United Kingdom on three occasions.  He was also a pacifist and never fully supported the first World War.  This not only lost him his membership of the Moray Gold Club but also made him reviled in some quarters.

 Ramsey MacDonald, along with Keir Hardy, was one of the founders of the Labour Party, popularly thought of as a people’s party after the general public began falling out of love with the Liberals.  He was more at home with philosophy and books than with carrying a placard and marching.  Yet, he rose to become leader of the Labour Party and its first Prime Minister.

When elected much of his time was taken up dealing with the aftermath of the Great War and coping with the financial crisis that caused the Great Depression.

 His personal background was one of poverty.  He was an illegitimate child born to a parlour maid and agricultural worker.  Yet he did well at school in Lossiemouth and eventually moved to London and continued his studies at night school with the Birkbeck Institute.  He had six children but lost his wife early on to blood poisoning.  He was faithfully supported by his children, especially his daughters and historians tell us that he was the favourite Prime Minister of King George V.

Perhaps history teaches us that very little is new in life, and we have probably been here before.  I’ve certainly got that impression reading up on MacDonald’s life.  We may think that war and the economic crisis of 2024 is immense, yet it seems it was equally, if not more so, in 1924 with one war just ten years behind and another a mere 15 years in front.

And if the goings on in parliament exasperate us today, give some thought to Ramsey MacDonald’s fate after heading up a Nation Government with the Conservatives to deal with the financial crisis.  Such collaboration was viewed as treachery by the Labour Party, and they expelled him.  He never quite got over that the party he helped to bring to birth eventually kicked him out and he died something of a broken man.

 So, although we may nostalgically call that decade the Roaring Twenties, the reality was Ramsey MacDonald’s time leading the United Kingdom was a very turbulent and worrying one.

The Bible is clear that one of our responsibilities is for us to pray for those in authority.  Such prayers were needed a century ago, as they most certainly are today.

What shall I call you?

 

Today marks the beginning of The Week of Prayer for Christian Unity 2024, and to mark that we look forward to hosting a united service of Holy Communion with our friends from St Michael’s on Sunday.

A week after my ordination, whilst I was still new to the idea of wearing a clerical collar in public, I was stopped by a young couple in the street and asked if I would christen their baby.  The penny quickly dropped as I realised we were all standing on the pavement beside our local parish church, and they thought I was the (very young!) vicar.  I explained I wasn’t, just a mere Baptist Minister, but I’m sure the real vicar would be delighted to hear from them.

The ’collar’ does provoke a variety of reactions.  Even yesterday, before starting a service in a residential care home, one of the residents asked a question that regularly comes my way: what do we call you: pastor, reverend, father?  I normally answer minister, and then go on to say Ian will do!

Ecumenism has made us aware that our various traditions bring with them different dress codes and forms of address.  Yet, I suspect, the most important thing is not what we are called but how we fill these offices.

A former principal of a Baptist theological college wrote a book a few years ago even conceding the idea that bishops may not be a bad idea, as long as the emphasis is never about the title but the quality of the person who uses it. 

Structures and frameworks are simply that, vessels that need to be filled with leaders who display love, compassion, and integrity.

I once served as the Baptist ecumenical officer for Worcestershire and on one occasion, along with fellow ecumenical officers, attended a morning of meetings at Hartlebury Castle, the residence of the Bishop of Worcester.  At lunchtime the bishop invited us to join him in the enormous dining room for a meal.  Perhaps we expected a procession of staff to serve us, but no – it was the bishop’s wife who greeted us with kind hospitality and brought in two humungous shepherds pies which she and her husband then proceeded to serve. 

Whatever our role, our title, or the sort of collar we wear, our prayer is that rather than stand on ceremony we will fulfil the opportunities of service with faithfulness, kindness and love.

It was a splendid shepherds pie by the way!

Still the language of Shakespeare?

 

I read a newspaper article the other week that lamented the standard of English now coming out of the European Commission in Brussels.

It's hardly surprising.  English is still the official language of The Commission, yet since we’ve left very few within its corridors speak it as their mother tongue.  This means official minutes list all those who assisted rather than attended a meeting, because that’s the French way of saying it.  And you don’t talk about current but actual legislation, because that’s the Spanish way of saying it. 

The newspaper said: The British staffers used to protect it, to point out gently that this or that construction might sound fine in French or Spanish, but it wouldn’t do in the language of Shakespeare.  But those days are over!

We can all use the same words yet give them different meanings.

I was dumbfounded when I first realised that members of the younger generation were now using the word wicked to mean that something or someone was good!  To me, and I know I’m sounding like Victor Meldrew here, that’s simply absurd!  But there you are, it’s OK now to say a car or a coat looks wicked and mean it as a compliment.

That said, I do realise that sometimes when someone is either confusing, or dare I say it, boring me during a conversation, I’ll often try to wrap it up by saying that’s interesting when, of course, I mean the exact opposite.

When Peter called Jesus The Christ, he was the first of Jesus’ disciples to use that term.  Yet rather than being congratulated by Jesus he was pulled up by him and challenged to think through if he really understood the sort of Christ he had come to be; a suffering servant rather than a political liberator.

We all use words on different levels, perhaps even playing games with them at times.  No wonder the bible calls for integrity of speech urging us to let our Yes mean Yes and our No mean No.

We are in the season of Epiphany, thinking about how God reveals himself to us, just as he revealed Jesus to the Wise Men by a guiding star.  And we are told he showed us himself in a way we can understand as The Word became Flesh and dwelt among us. 

 

The message and life of Jesus is the language of our faith, and it can be understood in any tongue.