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. 

Follow that Star!

 

Just when you thought you were done with Christmas for another year, along comes the church season of Epiphany, running for five Sundays between 6^th January through to 4^th February.

During these weeks the lectionary asks us to think about the various ways God ‘reveals’ himself to us. It’s a season all about our search for wisdom.  Or, put poetically, what star we are following?

I suspect many of us have embraced Christianity because deep down we sense the Bible offers us ancient, yet relevant truths that bless our lives with wisdom.

So, here are three ‘stars’ I’ll be following in 2024…

The star of prayer.  And by that I don’t just mean the prayers we say, although these are important and helpful, but the sort of ‘prayerful’ attitude we try to foster.  The type of understanding that welcomes the spiritual alongside the material.  The mindset that leaves room for God and something deeper.

Then there’s the star of liturgy, and by this I mean especially the hymns and songs we sing together in church that not only bind us together as a worshipping congregation but also teach us, reassure us and even provoke us with deep truths.  Us preachers know a secret that we don’t often speak about and it’s this…our congregations have probably learnt just as much from the hymns they sing as they do from the sermons they hear. But don’t tell anybody I said that!  As a hymnbook title says, these hymns can be Ancient and Modern, and once again our lives are blessed through us having such a wonderful treasury.

And finally, there’s the star of fellowship.  I’m not called to live out my faith or cope with the challenges of a New Year alone.  God is with us, and his light, love and strength are often made real to us when we come together in worship, counsel and service. We need one another, for where two or three are gathered in the name of God we again find blessing.

So, Happy New Year and keep following that star!