On arrival at the year that seemed so far away

At the end of 2019 the trend of offering the creation a photo book that rips your photos from your social media with underlining captions appears to be the advertisement of choice. It’s an interesting exercise to do if you are an over-poster like me because it gives an overview of in-the-moment comments and photos that tell the story of a year that has brought all sorts of changes and challenges both in my personal life and in the life of just about everyone I know (unless you have been hiding in a box). The cost of those books once formed is another challenge probably not to be faced but for a moment it creates a time to reflect. 

On the 1st January 2019 the next 365 days stood solid before me with a number of challenges to face - some expected and just about controllable, some expected but beyond the control of most of us and some completely unknown. It’s been a year of change and celebration, a year where work has overtaken my life in ways I never thought work could and a year of what only can be described as chaos in this country that is seeking to find a new identity within parameters that can’t currently hold what it is. 

Underlying all of this is a holding on..... a holding on to what grounds us, what keeps us upright and what keeps us steady. For me my holding on has come through song - particularly through the songs of Lauren Daigle who has reminded me again and again of my own capabilities, gifting and worth in God as the punches and stumbling blocks have raised their ugly heads. The holding on has also come through the small things - and the story my Instagram book of the year tells - in amongst the working too hard and the change and those around me losing their heads as I try to keep mine - is this story.  A story of baking and bucket lists and shoes and giant strawberries.... an impressive collection of ikea pencils and the roses that brought joy at the right moment.... glorious skies with burnt orange sunsets and glittery antlers that hardly left my head in the week leading up to Christmas..... a story of love and of friendship, of stoicism (I even bought a badge) and keeping on keeping on.... that in a year of being kept me on track. 

In some ways 2020 has crept upon me. It hadn’t occurred to me that it was the end of a decade - the year with a number that somehow makes me feel both happy and uneasy (perhaps reflecting my general state of being right now) has just appeared, like a hidden peak on this hill I’ll be climbing over this year. 

2020 starts with a month left before all change. It starts with a January to bask in the EU we belong to before it begins to be peeled away, not like a sticking plaster but like a TK Maxx label where you manage to get everything removed but the price. 

2020 will see us holding on tight to what keeps us steady - one another - the small things that bring us joy - the moments of hope - the songs that unite - the places that we trust enough to call home. 

2020 for me I hope will see me getting used to this life I’ve been called to.... and I hope will see a bit more stability than the last year has brought. I imagine that it will bring further challenges I have never encountered before as I work with people affected most acutely by austerity measures, uncertainty and the fall out from Brexit. 

2020 sees me climb over the hill, have my name on a book as editor (that’s exciting!) and enter into the pastry section of my gbbo baking challenge. I’m hoping it will see me join a choir and find my identity in the south as a belonger not a temporary incomer whose heart is pulled northwards more often than expected.

2020 is going to be hard. The effects of Brexit are unknown but known to be very much hard work. The effects of our new government are unknown but I believe inevitably challenging as our democracy is picked apart at its very core. The effects on individual lives amongst the uncertainty..... incomprehensible. 

In amongst it all? 

We’ve got to try and stand together. We need to work for unity - to see all people as human and treat them that way. 

We need to become less selfish and more generous. Our tendency in times of uncertainty is to batten down the hatches but 2020 is not a year for that - it’s a year to stand on the hill we’re climbing over and ask where light needs to shine and sticking that lightbulb in to make a difference. 

We must pray, protest, challenge, speak out.... we’re not called to be passive observers in 2020, but to be people who participate - who make places of truth, justice and mercy and belonging that speak Hope in uncertainty and show another way. 

Happy new year. May it be far better than the outlook appears to predict at the end of 2019. 

“But he’s already made it plain how to live, what to do, what God is looking for in men and women. It’s quite simple: Do what is fair and just to your neighbour, be compassionate and loyal in your love, and don’t take yourself too seriously - take God seriously”. - Micah 6:8 (Message version) 

On getting what we deserve

The results are in, the votes have been counted and besides this London bubble I live in, the picture is bleak for the reds. All the campaigning and fighting and debating has resulted in far too much blue for my liking. Needless to say I’m disappointed, gutted, so very sad that the labour policies that would have begun to lift and transform our communities will not be seen through. 

I have collected together a rather impressive collection of left leaning friends so my Facebook and twitter feeds are full of general sorrow..... and in their anger some voices cry out “this country has got what it deserves”. 

Has it though? Just because we voted for it doesn’t mean we deserve it. 

Our broken communities don’t deserve to be battered and bruised to the point that anything to get them out of Europe is better than the policies that will make steps to heal their wounds. 

Our politicians don’t deserve to live in fear of their lives simply for disagreeing  with someone else. They don’t deserve to have lies spread about them, their families torn to shreds and their every move misreported in the press. 

That boy didn’t deserve to have to lie on the hospital floor waiting for treatment whilst his story was manipulated and distorted to make a false political point. 

We don’t deserve to be manipulated by lies and fake news as it is shouted from the front pages of newspapers all owned by people whose interest is their own. 

We don't deserve to lose the NHS, to be reliant on foodbanks, to be stuck in temporary accommodation for years because of a lack of housing. We don't deserve under resourced schools and cuts in our emergency services. We don't deserve to see the rich get richer and the poor to get left behind...... 

We don’t deserve it. 

What we deserve is truth. What we deserve is compassion. What we deserve is honesty. What we deserve is restoration. 

Because even where we disagree, people matter. Their lives matter, their voice, their opinion, their frustration with how the world is matters...... and while the next few days for many (including me) will be about mourning and trying to make sense of the result, as we move on and live with the result we’ve got to be a hand in giving this country what it actually deserves. How we do that I don’t know, but I do know I will be working for it. 

Let's give this country what it deserves - listen to the voices that have been crying out beyond the dross in this election, walk in the way of love and compassion, be part of an army of restoration, seek out truth amongst the lies, be an us first not I first member of society  - because this country deserves all of this (not that). 

And today? Practice self care. Look out for one another. Seek out glimmers of hope and light, moments of laughter, moments of joy, because it is those things, when we hurt, that will keep us walking through. 

And pray - pray for the what next, pray for the future, pray for restoration, pray for more. 

“And now, God, do it again—

    bring rains to our drought-stricken lives

So those who planted their crops in despair

    will shout hurrahs at the harvest,

So those who went off with heavy hearts

    will come home laughing, with armloads of blessing”. Psalm 126:4-5

A letter from a disgrace

Dear friend, colleague, one who looks at me and calls me a disgrace,

Thank you for my comments on my call to be a minister. I would say they are much appreciated, but actually, they're not. Your contempt towards me because of my gender is, sadly, not unusual, but surprisingly loud at the moment. I am not sure where your idea has come from that you can comment on my calling as a woman even though you have never met me and don't know my journey to ministry, but you seem to claim you have authority to do so. 

You see, the thing is, my primary calling to ministry is not from human beings, and particularly not from 80 year old men who claim an authority that is not their's. My calling is from God. It has been affirmed by my sending church, the church that ordained me, my college, my Baptist family and the church I am called to minister now where the call was so strong it cannot be anyone but God who brought me here.

As I explored the calling that I felt upon my life and took ten years to come to a decision to go to college exploring all the arguments for and against this pull in my heart, as I explored scripture and saw examples of women in leadership positions making an impact on the world, as I tried to do everything else but train to be a minister and got pulled back time and time again, as I saw rainbows at every turn confirming who I was being called to be, as I became more and more secure in my identity in Christ, I became increasingly certain that this is where and who I am meant to be. 

There are days when I feel like an imposter, when I feel like I'm making it all up. There are days when I wonder if I can stick it. There are days when I am so exhausted from the pressure of pastoral encounter after encounter that I wonder if I have the strength to carry on. 

I want to thank you then, dear friend, colleague, one who calls me a disgrace..... for reminding me of how I am called to this by God. As I read over your comments about me and every female minister across the world, I am reminded of the strength of my call, of the barriers I've faced, and the continual affirmation of others in where and who God has made me to be. Your words aren't going to stop me, because they remind me that I am not an imposter. They remind me that I am chosen, called and sent as I seek to walk in the way God is leading me - he has me by the hand.  

Your words, then, I shall let wash over me, your arguments, they send me to sleep.... and my hope, my deepest hope for you, is that one day you will look around and see the women pastoring congregations across the world, the work that we are doing, and recognise that God is at work. 

With every blessing. 

A disgraceful woman. 

PS I couldn't sell jewellery on TV to save my life - perhaps that's part of the reason I'm called to be a minister. 


This letter is a response to comments summed up in this article which sounds like a parody but sadly isn't. 

snickermarathons

When I was a tweenager I did a market research survey on the change of name of the chocolate bar Marathon to Snickers. I remember saying that I didn't think it was a good idea because I understand the language of marathon - it gives you the energy to get through - to run that endurance race..... and Snickers means what? 

They clearly didn't listen to me (as they changed the name to Snickers). Their advertising campaign for it being a cure for food anger actually probably relates more to me than me ever being a marathon runner....

But now there is an air of celebration about because for a limited time only the name has gone retro. We've got Marathon again. We've come home. 

Home to a place of nostalgia. Changing the name back doesn't mean the flavour has changed. It doesn't mean that the shrinkage that I have no doubt has happened has been reversed. It just brings an air of familiarity in uncertain days. Remember the days when they were called Marathons? They were happy days. 

When they were called Marathons I was a little person and despite tweenage angst and my struggles with making friends that stuck I was happy. I went to school, tried my girly swot best, grew my own personal faith and was secure and safe. 

But since then? Life has changed, and although life is quite tough right now because everything is changing, it doesn't mean that clutching onto a name that means less than it implies is going to help me step forward into the future. Life isn't always going to be the same, and the names and products that were there when I was growing up (and this country was in a much better place) aren't going to make life any better for more than a moment.....

Because a Marathon is still a Snickers, and while it will help me with my food anger, it won't help me run 26 miles. 

We're at a point at the moment where we're so caught up in what was that the joy of something that reminds us of childhood is more exciting than the possibilities ahead. That makes sense, because when Snickers was Marathon, things were more certain, more straightforward, more secure. Because before we went into Europe we were more sure of our identity, surely we just leave and things will just fall into place? Because when church was thriving, we did things this way, surely if we did that again, church would again rise up and be counted? 

A 21st century Marathon is still a 21st century Snickers in disguise. The nostalgic name changes nothing.

The prophet Jeremiah in Jer 6:16 says this:

"Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls"

The ancient paths that he talks about are not 30 years ago when Snickers were called Marathon. 

They're not even those however many years ago when churches were full and thriving. 

They're not even sixty years ago before our path into the EU (as it is today) began. 

They are not nostalgic paths, but they are the routes that God has laid down. 

In the midst of nostalgia rising from uncertainty, which while nice, should not determine our direction, we must remember that the ancient paths are not how things used to be, but that the good ways are the ways of God, and that is where certainty lies. In our steps ahead, a pause to look up and out and not inwards might stop lack-of-snickers diva like behaviour from becoming the norm.

(Perhaps the House of Commons needs a snickermarathon stock)

Eggy Potential

 I often wonder who first saw the potential in an egg for cooking. 

Was it an accident? Did someone accidentally drop an egg into a frying pan and see how it turned out? 

Was it an experiment? Did someone have a play with a discarded egg and study the beauty within? 

Was it that someone saw an animal enjoying eating an egg and thought they'd give it a go?

Was it instinctive logic? Did they think well the meat is OK, so the egg must be too? 

Was it desperation? Maybe they were starving and it was the only thing to hand?

I google and it tells me nothing. 

And who first discovered the usefulness of eggs for cakes? As a baker, I am amazed at just what eggs do. This week I made a lemon curd swiss roll and the eggs both brought air into the sponge and thickened the lemon curd. Why does that happen and how do we know? 

And who decided to separate the white and the yolk and use the white for meringues and the yolk to make custard? How did they know? What did they do? Did they understand what was happening?

I google and I find why it happens - the science behind it is fascinating - but how we know? Nobody knows. 

Who saw the potential of an egg? 

In chaos, by chance, by experimentation, by mistake great potential is discovered. 

The Jazz musician improvises and discovers beauty in mismatched chords. 

A pendulum is knocked, spins for a bit and then settles unexpectedly into a rhythm.

The Worcester Sauce is added to the bolognese instead of wine and produces something tastier than it was before (remember that advert?).

The eggs in the cake bind, protect the air bubbles, create texture that is dreamy, hydrate, bring lightness and softness and joy to make the cake more delicious. 

The noticing, the tasting, the listening, the waiting, the experimenting, you never know what might happen. 

Press pause and discover. 

Potential was there even before it was discovered. 

Potential grown in chaos. 

Potential grown under the ground, in the darkness, in the depths, just waiting to burst forth. 

Sometimes in the every day we forget the potential is there. We walk over it, ignore it, leave it be for another day when life is less crazy and there is time to sit still. 

But in the darkness it whispers........ "I'm still here". 

As we think about hope, about future, about next, about promises made and not realised, as we shift our expectations and set up a new camp and wait another night, we must not forget that underneath all the wanting, there sits the next, and that in a blink of an unexpected moment, the thing we never knew would be so good will be born. 

"If you are always trying to be normal you will never know how amazing you can be" - Maya Angelou

"Those who wait upon God get fresh strength. The spread their wings and soar like eagles, they run and don't get tired, they walk and don't lag behind" - Isaiah 40:31 (The Message)

A day like no other

Yesterday was a strange day. It started with the proroguing of parliament being ruled as unlawful (which brought joy in the midst of the morning), I saw a double rainbow just (as always) at about the right moment, I had a couple of conversations I wasn't expecting and caused me to turn to my brilliant network of trustworthy ones for advice and wisdom and then impeachment proceedings were being explored to begin against Trump just before I headed to bed. 

Some days are like that. But also no days are like that. We cannot underestimate the impact of what is going on in politics at the moment in the UK and the rest of the world on what is going to happen in the future. Where we don't think things can get more complicated, more complicated things happen. 

It all seems so big - so uncontrollable, that it affects our very being. How do we live in a world that is full of uncertainty? How do we make plans when we don't know what is going to happen tomorrow, never mind next year? 

We react in different ways - some of us bed in - take control of the things we can control - we make sure our own affairs are in order, take possession of the things that we perceive to matter most and become protective over our own life and space. 'Me first' becomes the mantra, and that affects our relationships with others. In some ways this is a reflection on the causes of the current political climate in the first place - making things better for me means shutting out anything that makes me feel uncomfortable. 

Some of us try to understand - we read - we try to problem solve - we tie ourselves in knots - we protest - we celebrate - we express our frustrations - we begin and join in social media conversations that are like carving through layers of hard rock with a blunt knife and fork. We find ourselves exhausted with the thinking we're doing and we lie down for while, waiting to get up again and find the way ahead. 

Neither of these ways of dealing with stuff completely satisfy. 

Bedding in doesn't mean that the problems go away. Bedding in doesn't help our relationships with others and makes us a little bit too insular. Although it might be comfortable, there is something about what is going on that niggles in our ear however much we try and shut it out. 

Trying to understand doesn't mean we'll ever arrive at understanding and leads to frustration as we discover more complications in the things that seemed simple. Trying to understand doesn't necessarily lead to solutions, and where we are able to make sense of what is going on, the niggle in our ear is that we're too far gone to get to somewhere better and the way out will be impossible to find. 

I've tried both. I've tried hiding from the news and I've tried staying up until 2am watching parliament debate (when it's been allowed to) so I can make sense of it all - but then I get frustrated and want to run and hide again..... we need to keep trying to understand, but we need to take care of ourselves, and so there are times for both - both searching and hiding, and in the search for the balance we'll find moments of peace. 

After the referendum I reflected on my disappointment with the result, and I asked the question 'how do I sing the Lord's song in a strange land?' - a question the Israelites asked when they were in exile in Babylon. I didn't know how but I knew I would not stop singing. 

And I haven't. I'm not going to a choir at the moment because the challenge of moving 252 miles has made finding a choir not the priority it should be, and although I know it would help me deal with all this, I don't feel ready to go there. However, even without those who stand singing with me, my singing has not stopped. 

Because, even in places of despair, there is always hope. Even in the deepest and darkest of places, the light gets in through the cracks. Because when we hear stories of hope - stories of justice being done - stories of love shared abundantly - stories of lives changed - we know that there is a way through, a way that is better beyond where we are now. 

And that is the Lord's song - helping us to know that however bad things get there is always hope. And while it may seems like pie in the sky sometimes and it might sometimes seem like I'm grasping and not catching - I know this hope that I have to be true - and that's what those rainbows, just at the right time, remind me. 

So in these strange days where tomorrow is a mystery and things are just a little bit confusing, hold on to that hope - look for the light, the love, the peace, the justice, the signs of promise, BE that light, that love, that peace - bring justice and depend on God's promises and that - that is what will get us through. 

"But he's already made it plain how to live, what to do, what God is looking for in men and women. It's quite simple: Do what is fair and just to your neighbour, be compassionate and loyal in your love, and don't take yourself too seriously - take God seriously" - Micah 6:8 (The Message)

Getting on

We're currently working through the Sermon on the Mount in church services - this is a slightly truncated version of my sermon from Sunday where we explored Matthew 5:21-26 - all about getting on with each other and sorting out issues before they escalate beyond our control..... 

A few times lately I've found myself staying up late watching the BBC Parliament channel and last week was no exception (and was the reason for me being a bit tired and grumpy the rest of the week). The House of Commons is an intriguing watch - it thrives on conflict, because its through discussion and debate that the laws that benefit this country are made. It is also broken by conflict as discussion and debate is punctuated by name calling and bad behaviour towards other MPs who disagree. Unfortunately, lately there has been more brokenness than thriving because, reflecting the divisions in the country over what to do about Europe, the House of Commons is in deadlock - the only way through it right now appears to be, in one sides opinion, a break and in the others, a complete overhaul on what is going on. It's like we've hit a brick wall. 

There has been too much name-calling, muttering under breath and hiding of information and too little talking and resolution bringing lately, and as the conflict in parliament seeps out into wider society (and wider society conflict seeps into parliament) we see anger and violence escalate too quickly. 

In Jesus' time people felt insecure (they were under occupation - they were going to be insecure) and when people feel insecure they are more likely to be jumpy and irritable and they react to things in ways that could be perceived as aggressive and nasty. Those perceptions escalate and get out of all proportion until either everyone is exhausted or something awful happens. 

We live in a time of uncertainty and insecurity when it comes to our own country's future.This leads to uncertainty and insecurity in our own lives. Last week the government were forced to release their 'yellowhammer' documents detailing the consequences of a no-deal Brexit and it made it clear how insecure and uncertain the times we are living in are. We need to watch ourselves and how we behave during this time, because as our lives change, our reactions will reflect the uncertainty we feel.

When we face conflict the way we react changes. We no longer take things on face value and spend time overthinking what things really mean, we find it more difficult to communicate and we have to put more effort in. We find it harder to listen to people unless they have the same opinions as us and we get suspicious of people and wonder 'what they are up to'. Uneasiness leads to anxiety and leads to painful experiences. Things progress and we burn up inside. 

Once we get through this time of uncertainty, whatever the result, I hope that we might see some light at the other side. I hope that we might begin to see some new life. I hope..... I'm not sure that will happen for a long time, but that's my hope. We've got to work at transforming conflict from being something toxic and life draining into something beautiful and life giving. It might seem impossible at the moment. 

In a country where a 52-48 split divides us, how can we sing the Lord's song and bring about the transformation that Jesus calls us to as we follow him and seek to live out his Kingdom values? 

Blessed are the Peacemakers. 

In the Sermon on the Mount Jesus takes the Jewish law and shows that it points to a new way - the way in which Jesus is the pioneer and makes possible and encourages alternative patterns of behaviour that will make this world a better place. 

In Matthew 5:21-26, Jesus takes that commandment 'you shall not murder' and he expands it out - this isn't just about murder, it's about never getting to the point where you are anywhere never even contemplating murder. It's about not getting to that place where relationships are so broken that we find it impossible to find a way through. It's about intervening in our own anger before it becomes life destroying. He talks about the smouldering anger that we find difficult to let go of. 

We can be released from that smouldering anger, but we need to choose to let it go - stop letting it define us, and be released from its fire. This doesn't depend on the other party's reaction to your move towards forgiveness - that's up to them, but it depends on you preparing to go there and change your heart. 

Because if we don't, it only escalates, and the anger that is internalised comes out from our mouth. And that doesn't sound good. We begin name calling, calling others stupid or naive..... and far worse. We get consumed by our anger and then think everyone who disagrees with us is an idiot not worth making time for. The name calling turns bad and it turns to aggression and we think irrationally that everyone is out to get us and we carry weapons just in case and one day our anger overflows and that commandment 'do not murder' gets broken.....

We see it happen in our communities. 

So what do we do? How can we change?

Jesus gives practical advice - simply try and deal with issue, but do it sensibly. Face up to what is bothering you. Seek reconciliation and work through the conflict instead of running away from it or talking about it behind one another's back. We've got to work at making relationships work. Deal with the issues now and don't let them fester. Aim to make friends and not enemies - otherwise what will happen? 

Bitterness breeds bitterness and creates a toxic environment. Quarrels are passed over too.... families and churches have been split for generations because of the kind of things Jesus talks about. To get out of this pit of anger and bitterness, it may be that we, even if we believe we are the ones that are in the right - even if we are the ones in the right, need to make the step towards reconciliation first. 

We might read Jesus' advice and think about our own situation and the hurt that has been done to us, the broken relationships that feel like they are not mendable and the pain of even contemplating doing something about it and wonder how it is possible to live out what Jesus teaches here. Yes it does seem impossible......

Until we look at Jesus - who embodied everything he taught about murder and anger on the cross - for where we can't be reconciled he reconciled all - look at how Jesus forgave - he died for all - and he also shows us what we need to do even if the person we are trying to forgive is not able to accept our forgiveness. Jesus forgave once and for all. To let go of the smouldering anger that burns where we can't reconcile, perhaps the next step in letting go and being free from the chains that bind you is to hand that burden to Jesus, who takes your anger, takes the sinfulness of your oppressor, and has already died for you under its load. He will take that load for you and he will deal with it and he won't let you fester and will help you to unravel all that is churned up inside. 

Live in a way that leaves you at peace with all. Walk in the way of forgiveness and reconciliation. 

"Is is for freedom that Christ has set us free" - Galatians 5:1a

The tension of the in-between

Some of the people I know are out protesting today..... and I want to be with them..... but instead I'm at home preparing for our service tomorrow about the Beatitudes, which in many ways are exactly what those who are protesting are protesting for - a way of living and moving forward in our chaotic political world that recognises that those who are most broken are those who need lifting up rather than a way of living that, in an effort to put an end to the Brexit chaos, leaves those who are most broken even more uncertain of what the future will look like. 

I stand with the protesters in mind even if I'm not there in body. I want to feel like I'm doing something. I want to feel like I can be one small cog in the machine that helps this country move forward in a better way - a different way - the way that lifts up the poor and the mourning, the peacemakers and the persecuted...... but I feel helpless right now. 

I worry about what will happen as a result of a no deal Brexit. I worry that the community I live in will feel the effects so hard it will be bigger than a punch in the guts. I worry that we have spent so much time laughing at what we thought was a bumbling buffoon from Eton that we have missed the intelligence of our new Prime Minister carving this path we are hurtling down at the moment. I worry for those I encounter every week who are broken and don't have much right now, for whom the uncertainty of the consequences of a no deal Brexit is another thing that has to be faced in a world that hasn't been very helpful so far.... 

How can we stand up for justice as we head down this path? How can we be more than that feeling of helplessness and despair that rises up every time we watch the news? 

The Northumbria Community Meditation of the day for today could not have come at more of a right time. William Brodrick, monk-author writes that (click on link for whole quote):

We have to be candles,

burning between,

hope and despair,

faith and doubt,

life and death,

all the opposites....

I'm not sure I'm going to ever completely understand how we have got to the place we are today. I'm not going to know what the consequences are until the things actually happen. I want to be shouting with the protesters, making my discontented voice heard. 

What I do know, is that I need to live in the tension that leaves space for lament and presents hope that this is not it. I believe that whatever happens in the coming weeks and months, there is and will be a way out - through changed behaviour, through sacrificial love, through continually drumming in protest against what almost seems inevitable, through laying down what we have so that others can have more, through prayer and lament and most of all through the deep deep love of Jesus who shows and tells us that there is more than this, different to this, a new way that brings hope where there is despair, faith where there is doubt and life where there is death.... and if, as we live in the tension between, we can show even just a little bit of that love - if we can begin to live in the way that Jesus sets out in the Sermon on the Mount, if we can continue to be encouraged to stand up and say this is not right .... we might, just might begin to turn the way it's all heading upside down. 

I cannot tell how silently he suffered
As with His peace He graced the place of tears,
Or how his heart upon the Cross was broken,
The crown of pain to three and thirty years. 
But this I know, He heals the broken hearted,
And stays our sin, and calms our lurking fear,
And lifts the burden from the heavy laden,
For yet the Saviour, Saviour of the world, is here. 

(v2 from the hymn 'I Cannot Tell')

The past, the now and the next

“The past can hurt, but the way I see it, you can either run from it, or learn from it” - Rafiki to Simba in the Lion King

Lion King wisdom. Today I’ve been going back through some old services on my computer because I think I might have something that will be useful for our service on Sunday. Unfortunately what I thought I had I haven’t got despite the framework all being there for having it. 

I did, however, come across a clip from the Lion King when Simba is all grown up and is considering the fact that he needs to go back and claim his rightful place as King. However, he doesn’t want to go back because of the bad memories - he had originally run away because he believed he was responsible for the death of his Father. 

Rafiki, as always, has wise advice. The past hurts, we can run from it or learn from it. 

As I was searching for the thing I couldn’t find, the windows search function reminded me of some journalling I had done at particular times when I wasn’t that happy with how things were going. As I read some bits it reminded me of those moments, but also reminded me of how those moments were part of the journey to where I am now. Through those moments I learned, I became more self aware and in the afterwards I looked at how I might deal with the same things better. Those moments made me realise stuff I hadn’t noticed and opened doors I hadn’t expected. 

I’ve never been a believer in the phrase ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’ because sometimes what doesn’t kill you breaks you..... however, I do think that what doesn’t kill you changes you and as it does you have a choice whether to hide from the past that tells the story of your now and run.... or face the past that tells the story of your now and learn - walk with the hurt and not hide it in a cupboard. Hiding the past isn't letting go of it.... forgetting the former things isn't just ignoring them - it's getting to a place where they don't fester and rise up again to stop you in your tracks at the times you least expect. 

We all have things - some of us bigger than others - that we find hard to face - but imagine if, like Simba did in the end - we face it head on and deal with the hurt. Imagine the relationships that could be made better, imagine the vastness of opportunities that might unfold...... imagine, just for a moment, that the scars of the past didn’t open up and weep but were a reminder that it happened, that it hurt, but also that the future has potential to hold better as you approach it with the stories that brought you to now, not defining the hurting you, but teaching the learning you. 

We seize control as we choose to learn through the hurt, and one day, hopefully one day, it will stop biting so hard. 

 “Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good” Romans 8:26-28 

On Weeding (and leadership)

My new house is beautiful - I love it - I'm really pleased with how it looks and just under three months of living in it, it's home. I feel settled and I look round and can't believe how privileged and happy I am to call it home. 

My garden, however, is another story. I have more flowers in it than my old garden (which managed to grow St John's Wort like it was going out of fashion but not much else) but also more weeds..... monster weeds too. 

I am no gardener, but I do understand the importance of making sure that weeds are removed - I'm on it - slowly but surely - I'm on it. The other week I weeded out a whole bed and I was going to plant some things in it, but instead of buying plants last week I went to Eastbourne to see the sea and get attacked by gulls (because....). The other evening I walked into my garden and decided to start on the monster weeds on the other side. I filled an ikea bag and looked at the previously weeded bed and realised that needed a re-weed before the weeds became monster again. 

Weed..... 

Although I am no gardener, I often reflect on how leading a church is a bit like being a gardener - and as I got frustrated at all the weeding I inevitably turned to thinking about church leadership. Before I moved I kept meeting church leaders who told me that the first few months are crucial because that's when you can go in and change everything - tell them you're not having it that way. 

Rip the weeds out fast - then turn round and take the monster weeds out of the other side of the garden..... 

Except that's not how I am called to lead - because if you concentrate on simply ripping out you don't deal with the roots underneath and the weeds just grow back. Change doesn't happen by ripping the old out, change happens by gently nurturing and cultivating the community in the way of Christ (remember Slow Church? If you've never come across it have a look here....)

In the bed I cleared first, although the weeds are beginning to show through again, they're much smaller, and when it cools down a bit I will revisit and then get on and plant some stuff..... but I do know within those weeds, underneath the soil and growing above it are plants to be nurtured and rediscovered - things of beauty that are ready to flourish..... bulbs waiting to come to life and grow again when their season begins, a plant that has stood strong although it has been surrounded by dock leaves and grass and there has been an attempt to choke it with bind weed and a massive excitable Buddliea that attracts all sorts of beautiful butterflies and grows with crazy abundance and will eventually need a bit of pruning. 

And as I journey on in this adventure, looking for what is growing already, for the potential in what has already been planted and for new opportunities to grow something new, as I continue to work on those weeds that will inevitably come back, but weaker and with less space to grow, and nurture the plants that are growing already, I wait with anticipation at what the seasons will bring and to the time that bed becomes beautiful in a new and unique way.

Staying Loud

This week in 1969, the first person set foot on the moon. You can't miss it in the news at the moment - it's on all the time - a celebration of the moment 50 years ago when Neil Armstrong said his famous words. It was a moment that brought the whole world together - a moment when millions and millions of people united sat around TV screens and radios waiting for a significant bit of history to unroll before their eyes. The astronauts left a plaque on the moon that said 'we came in peace for all mankind' and President Nixon said that in this moment '.....all the people on this Earth are truly one'.

This week in 1969, for a moment, the world was united. An amazing moment where people who wouldn't ever meet face to face and would probably cross the street before speaking to united together around the same thing, with the same awe and amazement. 

Yet this moment only happened because of conflict - because the US believed that if the Soviet Union got their first then they had lost somehow. They made a commitment to getting to the moon first because the Soviets had beaten them at everything else when it came to the space race. 

Yet this moment happened only a year after Martin Luther King was assassinated because his fight for civil rights for all was so distasteful to those traditionally in power in the US he had to be wiped out. This moment was only a moment and didn't - doesn't - mean that the world was then united. 

Because in 2019 we watch as the US President stands in silence as a rally chants 'send her back' to a Somalian born American citizen who says stuff they don't like.

Because in 2019 we hear news of how their are people living in effectively concentration camps on the southern US border and being treated like not-humans. 

Because in 2019 we face the prospect of having a prime minister be announced in the next week who thinks its OK to tell jokes about people's choice of religious dress and to mock where people come from in a way that speaks of prejudices that should have died out a long time ago (and are scarily similar to the rhetoric that led to the chanting in the US).

Because in 2019 we watch programmes like 'Years and Years' and 'The Handmaids Tale' and worry how close they are to the truth. 

I have been challenged in the last few weeks that where we see wrong - those things that divide and don't unite that we need to call it out. I have been challenged that we need to not stand by and let it happen as hostile and divisive policies and ideas begin to presented as normal and OK. I don't want to be complicit in the chanting of 'send her back'. I don't want to be complicit in the hostile environment that shuts the door in the faces of people who are desperately seeking help, that sends people to a home that hasn't been a home for many years because of a lost piece of paperwork.... I don't want to be complicit in all of this....

In 1969 the first meal that was shared on the moon was communion. Buzz Aldrin unpacked bread and wine and together the crew committed the mission to God, recognising that in this meal that unites, in this meal where all invited, that there in it was a centre that they must not lose. The language of bread and wine transcends cultural barriers and different languages and identities. In that moment where we centre on the story of Jesus, we are united in his love which reaches the whole world........ And its because of Jesus that we must call our leaders to account and I will not ever, I hope, choose to be silent. 

Love from the centre of who you are; don’t fake it. Run for dear life from evil; hold on for dear life to good. Be good friends who love deeply; practice playing second fiddle.

Don’t burn out; keep yourselves fuelled and aflame. Be alert servants of the Master, cheerfully expectant. Don’t quit in hard times; pray all the harder. Help needy Christians; be inventive in hospitality.

Bless your enemies; no cursing under your breath. Laugh with your happy friends when they’re happy; share tears when they’re down. Get along with each other; don’t be stuck-up. Make friends with nobodies; don’t be the great somebody.

Don’t hit back; discover beauty in everyone. If you’ve got it in you, get along with everybody. Don’t insist on getting even; that’s not for you to do. “I’ll do the judging,” says God. “I’ll take care of it.”

Our Scriptures tell us that if you see your enemy hungry, go buy that person lunch, or if he’s thirsty, get him a drink. Your generosity will surprise him with goodness. Don’t let evil get the best of you; get the best of evil by doing good.

Romans 12:9-21 (The Message)