All our Ministries...

This is something of a swansong blog – at least in my capacity as 20^th Minister of Yeovil Baptist Church.

I was sitting in the vestry last week looking at the pictures of some of my predecessors – the further back the fiercer they look!  It struck me how often churches, quite understandably, divide up their history into chapters of ministry.  We talk about how we enjoyed Rev Shortsermons ‘ ministry but how grateful we were when Rev Longsermon felt the call to Africa!  Even the word we used to use for a Pastoral Vacancy, ‘Interregnum’ literally means ‘in between reigns’!

The truth is, however, for almost six years this has not been about ‘my’ ministry but ‘ours’.  We have travelled this path together – and I’m so grateful for the privilege of working alongside many wonderful and committed people.  There is no way I could have done it by myself – that’s why God gives us the gift of each other.

I love working with teams – whether it’s alongside the Deacons, Holiday at Home team or Junior Church leaders  - by myself the problems seem larger and the solutions more elusive – yet when the task is shared with others so much more becomes possible.  I’m convinced God has made us that way – we simply need to do ‘ministry’ together.  Don’t get me wrong – there is a solitary path of leadership that every minister has to tread because at times our work is ‘one to one’ – yet even at these times to know the support of people praying for you makes the task more possible.

So my heartfelt thanks to so many of you for coming on board that Induction Day in March 2007 and staying the course as we’ve seen the challenges through together and shared the joys collectively.

As I prepare to pack up the sermons I have the deepest of convictions that what we have done together over these last few years has been utterly worthwhile – and I give thanks to God for the privilege of serving amongst you and alongside you – for this has been about all our ministries.

With my prayers for Yeovil Baptist Church – may the Lord bless you and keep you all in the days ahead – and thank you for our partnership in the gospel.

In Christ,

 Ian

(Friends I’m going into Blog hibernation until after my Induction at Amersham – and the link to this blog will not appear on the Yeovil website after Sunday – if you want to access it after then it can be found at  http://revdiangreen.blogspot.co.uk/ )

Children In The Way

‘Children in The Way’ was the title of a church report, published a few years ago now, exploring the place of youngsters in the life of a worshipping community.  It was a classy title because it contained a pun within a serious point.  When the children misbehave in the liturgy their parents can be made to feel their off-spring are ‘in the way’ of other people’s devotions.  On the other hand, taking ‘The Way’ as an ancient title for the Body of Christ, there is no better place to find a child than soaking up the influence of a loving and inspiring Christian Community.

All of these thoughts have come into focus for me the last two Sundays at South Street.

A fortnight ago the Junior Church leaders requested I had a ‘farewell’ photo taken with some of the younger members of our Fellowship.  I think of all the images I shall take away with me this one will remain a firm favourite.

And then this last Sunday we took a look in the evening service at the gospel reading for the day, Mark 10, in which Jesus says: Let the children come to me, and then goes on to talk about entering the Kingdom like a child.  In the prayer-time following, as we lit small candles together, a number of folks lit their night light whilst speaking  out a prayer for the youth work of our church.

Earlier in the day, at Morning Service, our worship concluded with Communion and on this occasion the older groups from Junior Church returned to join us.  Some sat next to their parents and took the bread and wine, the majority, however, occupied the front couple of rows and received a blessing.  For me, as the presiding minister, it was also a blessing – a blessing to pray for these youngsters and a blessing to sense their appreciation in being prayed for.  Every Communion is special – yet when the children join us it feels more complete somehow – the whole ‘family’ at prayer as the ‘blessed’ become a blessing for us all.

With best wishes,

 
Ian

Church and Soccer – in any way the same?

Last night I was treated to a night at Huish Park, along with our youngest son, to watch Yeovil v Portsmouth.

It struck me that Football has a liturgy all its own yet in some ways remarkably similar to what we do in church. 

Warming: what follows shouldn’t be taken too seriously as I ponder the question: How similar is going to a soccer- match and attending a service? 

Well, last night as we approached the stadium I saw a man giving out the notice sheets but unlike ours these were glossy affairs full of pictures, match results and advertisements.

Once seated it was obvious that we were surrounded by regular members of this particular congregation as none of them bothered speaking to us yet seemed to know everyone else.  Just before kick off the deacons came out of the tunnel wearing yellow florescent jackets followed by those who were going to participate in the service, the players. Everyone seemed very excited to see them and stood up and cheered even though they hadn’t done anything yet – very strange.  I approved of Yeovil for they wore green – which, sure enough, is indeed the liturgical colour for this particular time of year – but Portsmouth really let the side down because their strip was blue – and that doesn’t figure in the liturgical calendar at all.

A man at the centre – he must have been the bishop because he was wearing a red shirt and trying to keep order and no one seemed to be paying a blind bit of notice – blew a whistle and the action began.  To my surprise the congregation did not receive the offering of the players in respectful silence but seemed to have an opinion on everything they saw going on.  One man in front of me must have been a charismatic because he was constantly jumping up and down and lifting up his arms – on these occasions he didn’t seem particularly happy and constantly  invoked the name of the Almighty in his prayerful outbursts.

Then something most unexpected occurred in the thirteenth minute – Pompey scored a goal.  At their end of the stadium this seemed to encourage the lusty unison singing of a hymn that no one needed the words for.  However, at our end everyone seemed to enter a three minute period of instant silence and personal meditation.

The game continued and eventually the charismatic in front of me was once again on his feet at one point shouting out ‘look up, look up’ – thinking this was either an announcement that the rapture had begun or this was tonight’s new song from Spring Harvest being announced I did look up – but apparently it was merely an offering of ‘encouragement’ to a Yeovil defender.

Where did the time go – before I knew it everyone was getting out of their seats and discussing the service.  It was forty-five minutes long with five minutes tacked on the end – refreshments were being served, not just tea, coffee and digestives but hot dogs and pasties.  But here’s the crafty bit – the second service of the day wasn’t held six hours after the first but tacked on as a second half – very clever – and something I might consider at the new place, means you don’t have to get the car out twice.

Ten minutes into part two – which as far as I could see was in exactly the same format as the earlier service of the day (no worship with a difference here)  - Yeovil scored.  Well, it was like Christmas and Easter combined in our stand – grown men were on their feet – everyone was now a charismatic – hands in the air and shouting all sorts of things in strange tongues.  That said I did feel an excellent opportunity was missed at this point – namely the Passing of the Peace – as everyone was in such a good mood I feel it would have gone down extremely well.

Alas things didn’t stay that way – there was an injury the other side of the field and the deacons (in their florescent coats) came on with a stretcher, gathered round and seemed to be offering prayers for healing.  The chap in front of me had, by now, lost his voice and was displaying worrying Quaker tendencies by sitting in silence just shaking his head.  Others beside me were saying things like: ‘They’ve run out of ideas’ – it was all beginning to feel far too much like a deacons’ meeting after all.

In the eightieth minute Portsmouth slipped in a second goal and another three minute period of silent prayer broke out our end.  People, who must have gone to Football School many years ago and played in games like this one, were saying this was an unnecessary goal.  In fact it was clear that what was really needed at this point of the service was a departure from the old fashion idea of a 11man ministry – we needed greater congregational participation and with so many experts around me I’m sure they could have ‘gotten out of their seats’, come down to the front and spruced up the liturgy a great deal.

At this point a Pompey player was brushed by a Yeovil one and lay prostrate on the floor in seeming agony.  Our stand didn’t seem at all sympathetic to his plight, many saying it was just a wicked ploy to obtain a penalty – but they didn’t use the language of the Authorised Version to express their concerns.  And then a miracle occurred, this player rose up and walked – to the accompaniment of jeers from my part of the crowd.

As the ninetieth minute approached I observed that many in the crowd had decided not to stay for the last hymn and blessing and were clearing off early – shaking their heads as they went.  And then the bishop with his whistle signalled it was all over.

Members of the congregation around me shrugged their shoulders but reassured their neighbours  they’d be back on Saturday to do it all over again!

Well – it was a great evening – not, you’ll understand my natural environment!  But I  really do think  some of what I experienced was rather liturgical, for there are traditions , expectations and modes of behaviour that bind any group together,  giving us a sense of security and meaning.  All the ingredients were there at Huish Park last night. 

More than that I totally applaud the enthusiasm, friendship and commitment I witnessed last night– which makes me think there really are some significant similarities worth appreciating between attending a game on Saturday and a service on Sunday.

With best wishes,

Ian

Sharing our Baptism

On Sunday it was my joy and privilege to baptise three members of the congregation from South Street.  It was such a happy and inspiring occasion full of sincerity and hope.

Reflecting on the service since it’s once again dawned on me that watching someone else’s baptism often makes us recall our own.  Having a shared experience binds us together; my own baptism may have been thirty eight years ago but it somehow binds me together with the three friends whose baptism isn’t yet quite a week old!

Let me illustrate how these sharing of memories and experience went on Sunday.

*             No end of people told me that one of the hymns we sang, O Jesus I have promised,
               they had also sang at their baptism.
*             In the evening service we had a time of storytelling reflecting on our own baptism -
               someone baptised that morning said he felt this time of sharing was as meaningful
              for him as had been his own baptism earlier in the day –
               he was moved by the experiences of others.
*             One candidate told me he had received over twenty cards of greeting
               from the congregation,  another mentioned all the hugs and kisses! 
               This was a moment cherished by so many people.
*             Over Church Lunch folks at one table after another  poured over
               the Baptismal Register looking for their own entry or that of a friend.

Well these are just some examples of how we SHARED the day together last week.  In no sense, it seems to me, were these baptisms purely private affairs – we really are baptised into the Body of Christ.  In some wonderful way I’ve concluded that sharing our baptism with others actually deepens the experience – in fact that’s probably true of all worship.  We enrich each other as we share in the sacraments. We inspire each other as we gather around the bible together at a House or Theology Group.  We encourage each other as we share in a prayer gathering.

Christianity simply isn’t a private faith – it’s something we do together for the glory of God – and Sunday’s baptisms were a perfect example of that.

With best wishes,

 

Ian

A Tale of Two Deans

For me it seems to have been a month for re-discovering old truths. That’s because many of the Lectionary readings in September have taken us to the Epistle of James; a letter all about putting our faith into practice.

I used one of these texts at the first evening service of the new session and it made such an impression on me that I reworked the material for the following week’s All Age service entitling it ‘Walk the Talk’.  A week later I listened to a sermon from James on the website of Washington Cathedral.  The preacher was Dr Francis Wade, the Cathedral’s Interim Dean, (he’s my first Dean!) whose sermons I have grown to appreciate more and more.  He made the point that sometimes we only really discover our faith as we put it into practice.  Now I have to confess it’s taken me about a fortnight to digest this sermon; it needed some thinking through.

I was brought up on the idea that ‘faith came by hearing’, and that conversion is essentially a personal turning to Christ – I still believe that.  Yet over the years I’ve realised, as Dr Wade suggested from the Canterbury Pulpit in Washington Cathedral, that it’s been in the ‘living out’ of this Christian life that I’ve discovered so much more about the depth and meaning of faith.  There has to be a time when all the talking about what we believe is simply put into practice.

It’s often said that politicians campaign in poetry yet govern in prose.  That is it’s one thing to make a promise in a manifesto and quite another to keep it in government.  It’s tough, in any walk of life, to incarnate our ideals.  Yet when we try I suspect experience changes and deepens those aspirations.  I think it’s the same with faith.

I might sit in a housegroup and discuss the command to ‘turn the other cheek’ but I’ll only know what I really believe about that as I live it out in the daily challenge of a relationship.  In that process my understanding of Christ’s injunction will almost certainly change and deepen.

Nowhere more has that been the case than in the Cathedral community at Coventry.  When St Michael’s Cathedral was bombed on 14^th November 1940 Dean Howard’s first reaction towards those who had brought about such destruction was ‘Father Forgive’ (Dean Howard is my second Dean). Those words, uttered in the middle of a war, were initially neither popular nor understood.  Yet this was faith being put into practice, being deepened and even re-defined in the light of experience.  Today these words of Christ from the cross, uttered by the Dean the day after the Coventry Blitz are inscribed on the altar which stands as a permanent memorial to peace in the ruins of the old Coventry Cathedral.  What’s more ‘peace-making’ has been at the centre of the new St Michael’s life for the last sixty years.

So I’m grateful for James’ exhortation to put faith into practice – to live it out and discover more about it in the ‘doing’. 

For three friends at South Street this will be exactly the case this coming Sunday morning as they come for Christian Baptism.  We send to Les, Jacqui and Phil our prayerful best wishes as they prepare for the joy and challenge of this sacrament.

With best wishes,

 

ian

Road Closed

The journey was going well and I was making good time whizzing through Hampshire on the A34 on Monday morning.  At this rate I would arrive at Abingdon Baptist Church with half an hour to spare, grab a cup of coffee in their Oke Street cafe and then chair the committee of The Baptist Union Retreat Group. 

And then...up came that ominous sign on the overhanging boards: ‘Road Closed’.  My heart sank as fast as the car slowed and I joined a long line of traffic forced to exit the A34 at Newbury with not the faintest idea of how to get to Abingdon.  Driving alone without a reliable passenger navigator meant I simply followed everyone else onto the M4 and then took the next turning off to Reading. 

Once on a quiet road I connected the Sat Nav – but we soon fell out with each other!  It constantly argued with me telling me to return to Newbury and however much I shouted back saying the road was closed it took no notice whatsoever!  After fifteen minutes I think it got the hump and just went silent as if refusing to co-operate anymore – you get the picture?!

By now I was down to just using my initiative whilst trying to remember some of the names on the map I had studied five minutes ago.  ‘Pangbourne’ came up and I seemed to remember that was on the way to Abingdon so headed off in that direction on a wing and a prayer (and Pangbourne is very nice – by the way!). During this unexpected detour (come to think of it can a detour be anything other than unexpected) I tried to keep calm and practice that ‘inner peace’ that we in the Retreat Movement talk about so often – I don’t think I was totally successful.

Eventually I arrived one hour late but thankfully just in time for lunch!

The metaphor of a ‘journey’ representing our life maybe one, that in your experience, is somewhat overused.  However, I confess I still find it helpful.

On Monday my road was closed and I had to find another way; it was annoying, challenging but eventually brought me fresh experiences as I passed through new places and it taught me that I needn’t be totally dependent on the Sat Nav after all – I can still read a map and actually get from a to b!

A few years ago I attended a funeral of a relatively young dad and we were all so moved by the words of his widow during the service.  She spoke, as it were, from the pulpit to her two daughters telling them that together they had come to an unexpected fork, or twist in the road.  From now on their journey wouldn’t be impossible but it would certainly be different – not the one they were expecting. Since then I’ve seen that family travel the road with exemplary courage and resourceful determination.

We all have moments when the road closes or diverts.  This autumn I’ll be taking a new road when I begin at Amersham Free Church as one of their ministers.  The church at Yeovil is already making plans for the next part of the journey on a new road.

The ‘God of The Journey’ is the ‘constant’ through all of this – He travels with the one who goes and stays alongside those who linger behind. 

New roads await us all in the pilgrimage of faith – God grant that we journey well.

With best wishes,

Ian

In Private but not in Public?

The schools have returned for the autumn term and for the first time in many weeks our house is silent!  The weather, rather predictably, has also changed and now term has started the sun has come out and it’s a perfect late summer’s day.

The media has been full of it this week – the ruling made in Strasbourg failing to uphold an appeal brought by four Christians who claimed professional discrimination against them on the basis of their faith.  Two of them had been told they couldn’t wear a Christian cross, one ordered that she must officiate as a registrar at a same-sex marriage and the other told he should have offered  counselling to a homosexual partnership.

These folk believed (along with Lord Carey, a former Archbishop of Canterbury) that many of their human rights had been denied them.  The European Court took a different view and concluded that such rights were applicable in their private but not professional lives.  That means registrars have to officiate at any ceremony sanctioned by the state whether or not they believe it to be morally appropriate and an employed counsellor is contracted to offer support to  those accepted by his firm regardless of his personal view of their situation.  It also means all employees have to abide by the uniform policy of their company  – interestingly British Airways has now relaxed its policy to allow small items of faith such as crosses to be worn.

Can we understand the ruling and or do we join the chorus of siren voices objecting to it?

It’s a tough one.  I more readily understand that a registrar has no option but to officiate for any couple legally entitled to a ceremony than I do to the rather pedantic position of companies raising objections against employees wearing ‘small’ crosses, or any other faith symbols for that matter; for our arguments need to be in support of religious freedom not just for Christianity but all faiths.

The law is often cumbersome and compromised by rather surprising interpretations – often at great expense.

Until the conversion of Constantine Christians nearly always found themselves on the wrong side of both the law and public opinion.  They met at sunrise on Sundays so they could worship before going off to work – the concept of two days off for the weekend was not yet invented!  They were also considered to be cannibals because the ‘man on the Clapham omnibus’ believed they literally ate Christ’s body and drank his blood at the special meal they called The Lord’s Supper.

It seems to me ( as one who regularly wears a religious symbol in the street, namely  my clerical collar, and when I do so youngsters often shout rather cheeky things from across the road!) that our ‘salt and light’ ministry is much more than the symbols we wear or what we ‘object’ to .  It’s about bringing our whole personality, character and convictions to both our professional and private lives.  I’ve no doubt that through the conversations we have folk around us will learn of our faith and look out for it being put into action.  For no law can stop anyone from being kind, patient, loving, faithful or reliable – can it?

With best wishes,

 Ian