Horse meat, snow and what's really important

I'm quite glad that the trends on twitter and status changes on facebook have moved on from horse meat to snow. The idea of horse meat in burgers was little surprise to me, but the abundance of horse jokes and pictures of horses lying on tesco tills really freaked me out. I couldn't look. I'm a little sick of the snow statuses and pictures now though (although I do confess to posting one earlier this week - but I WAS first!). We've had snow lying on the ground all week. My road has been an ice rink for the last few days and every time I drive off the drive I hear the crunch and feel the slip.....

We get caught up in the hype. When we exclaim louder that the meat in our burgers is horse (which actually won't hurt you) than we exclaim about people who have to eat food out of the bins and gutters then we have got our priorities wrong. In being caught up in the hype we miss the other stuff that is going on, we miss the injustice, the human beings who are treated worse than we might treat a horse. The current government appears to use this as a diversion tactic.... bringing in the possibility of a referendum in Europe so we forget about the people who are being left destitute because of the welfare reforms..... blaming the European Union for immigrants who apparently cost lots of money so we forget that companies are dodging tax. 

Trouble is, is that we are mostly selfish. The content of our burgers is a lie to us - an infringement of our rights, whereas the content of the pay packets and the treatment of the people who make our chocolate doesn't matter, so long as we pay as little as possible. 

I was challenged last week that actually it is not about my life being comfortable first, but it is God first. In God's care for humanity I need to be prepared to step off what is normal and take risks to do things differently. I am not called to where I am because it's easy or because I am called to do nice things that are comfortable and make us happy, but I am called to where I am to live for God. The status quo is not the ultimate goal. If this means going to the uncomfortable places, doing the things that I find most difficult, not having something that I really really want, then that's the way it's got to be. Easy to say, hard to comprehend.

So this week I'm considering changing my bank. I cannot justify any more staying with a bank that supports the arms trade, that is reported consistently as being unethical. I've considered it before, but this time I'm going to go for it. I hope. Unless the comfort of being where I am familiar with yet again becomes the excuse for putting myself first. 

A time to say sorry (and a time to not....)

When I was a teenager I went through a stage of saying sorry too much. I would say sorry for existing if I could (and in a serious way rather than a soREEE sort of way). This wound other people up, and my vocabulary became less diverse (as it would if every other sentence contained the word sorry). I don't do that any more, perhaps I got bored with it. 

Or did I? Maybe now I do it more in my mind. I wonder if sometimes I am too apologetic for being me. Somebody is grumpy and I spend time wondering what it is that I have done to upset them (when I know when I am grumpy it is because I am - not always because of someone else). If I argue with someone I want to apologise, even if it is them who needs to apologise. I will leave a conversation with someone and worry that I might have said something I need to say sorry for. It's not a confidence issue, it's a keeping peace issue. I try not to break too many eggshells for fear of making too loud a noise. 

If this advent period is a time for reflection and confession (which I think it probably is) then I need to say sorry to God for being sorry too much. I need to say sorry for those times when I have not been bold in saying what I really think is right for fear of upsetting others. I need to say sorry for those times I have not confronted a wrong situation for fear of upsetting those who I am going to confront. 

I am me. I am not going to become one of those people who stands up and makes my opinions heard above everyone else, but I am trying to be one of those people who is honest about what I really think and believe. My ideas and thoughts may or may not be the same as others. They might irritate or challenge, affirm or placate, but this is me, and these are the things I want to say and feel right in saying. 

So, I am sorry if I say something to make you grumpy or say something really stupid when I am tired. I'm going to try not to dwell on it and I'm going to be the person who God has called me to be when he made me me. 

"Search me, God, and know my heart, test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me and lead me in the way everlasting." 
                                                                                              Psalm 139:23-24 TNIV

That quiet moment of amazing change

Suddenly it's Advent. Suddenly I am able to stop, anticipate and look forward. Yesterday we lit our first advent candle reminding us that Jesus came to bring light in the darkness. We had a great church community morning where we talked about hope, inspired by the covenant promise signed with a rainbow by God after the great flood that brought hope to humanity. This hope is brought to a climax in the Christmas story as we anticipate the mystery of the incarnation - the Word made flesh - God with us. 

November has been a month of thinking, anticipating and actively being part of the creation of change. In Baptist Union Council and in college we have been thinking about big change - the future - where next, what next, where might God be taking us. When we think about the changes that happen we are constantly seeking the Holy Spirit... acknowledging the fact that we are holding very tightly to what we know and realising that sometimes we need to let go. I love change, but I also love hanging on. I'm inspired by change but sometimes change stresses me out! I look for signs to motivate change and walk past them when I see them, just as much as I notice them and recognise the way in which there are pointing. 

When we are busy, sometimes change just happens and we don't notice it until it has happened and we realise it was good. It comes in the little things and the unexpected. Sometimes it all happens at once, and seems like the highest mountain until we get to the other side and realise how far we've come. 

The anticipation of advent is the anticipation of that moment that quietly changed the world forever. I love this poem, written by U A Fanthorpe that speaks of the awesome quiet change that we anticipate at this time of year. 

BC:AD

This was the moment when Before
Turned into After, and the future's
Uninvented timekeepers presented arms. 

This was the moment when nothing
Happened. Only dull peace
Sprawled boringly over the earth.

This was the moment when even energetic Romans
Could find nothing better to do
Than counting heads in remote provinces.

And this was the moment
When a few farm workers and three
Members of the obscure Persian sect

Walked haphazard by starlight straight
Into the kingdom of heaven. 


U A Fanthorpe - from Selected Poems, 1986, Penguin Books

More equal than everyone else

I've been listening to Radio 4. Partly to learn how to listen better, partly because I am one of the over 30's who have 'shuffled away from radio 1' (when the news told me that was what they were expected us to do I put on my slippers and shuffled, mainly because I was so irritated by the notion of me being a shuffler that I decided to live up to expectations) and partly because my ace sister tells me it's great. 

I must be learning how to listen better because I actually remember some of what it said. I knew when my lecturer on Wednesday afternoon almost directly quoted what he had heard from radio 4 that afternoon..... and I keep wanting to tell people what I have heard. Maybe radio 4 is OK, and all my reluctance to listen was unfounded. Perhaps I was scared of the Archers. 

I drove down to the Midlands on Monday (it's when I drive to the Midlands I realise how far north I am) and listened to radio 4 all the way. I heard the story of Russia in the 19th Century (I think) where one of the leaders wanted to try and bring equality to Russia by making everyone equal..... apart from the peasants.

The thing is that 73% of Russia was made up of peasants. 

Sounds shocking that someone might say that. Sounds shocking, but then we remember that it was in the past..... no-one would think like that today would they? 

A while ago I read this tweet from Vinay Gupta (as in many tweets I like I have no idea who he is!):

"A fair world is one in which you live in the same conditions as the people who make your coffee and your jeans. How could it be otherwise?"

When we seek equality, where is our equality limit? Is equality everyone being treated with respect? Is equality making sure that there is space for people who are different to me in decision making? Is equality everyone having the chance to education so that they might bring themselves out of the situation they are in? Is equality as described in the tweet above?

If it is anywhere similar to the last it brings huge challenges to people like me. If I am really seeking equality and liberation for all, I need to give up much so that others can have more. 

All By Myself

There was a point, when I was 11 or 12, that I felt I did not belong anywhere. I had started secondary school, the only girl from my primary school, and was put in a form with people who knew each other, but with nobody who knew me. That wasn't a bad thing, because I didn't get on with those who went to secondary school with me and I needed a new start. I wasn't good at making friends and I was different - I was the daughter of a minister (that makes you weird) and I wanted to work hard. I loved learning and I was not cool. 

I was thrown into a world of established groups of friends, who despite falling out at times were fundamentally strong units that it was hard to break into. I was not always treated in a way that was great and it was easier to spend time on my own or in the library. In looking for friends I looked to those who I recognised as being able to deal with life and who did not need the intensity of 11 year old best friendship. The people of my age at school were not that bothered about me - those like me were trying to be like everyone else, and those unlike me appreciated me as someone to talk to when no-one else was around. 

That feeling did not last long, and I made friends as I grew up through school. Friendship groups evolved, people tried less hard to fit and I became less uptight. I remember those days of not belonging as difficult and sad though, and I never want to be there again. I've now learned to deal with the fact, that when I go to new places and meet new people that I am different and that is OK. I have learnt that there are times when I want to belong that I need to push myself into situations that aren't necessarily ones that I feel comfortable in - situations that challenge me and surprise me. Today, although finding it difficult and frustrating at times, relish those challenging and surprising times. When I was 11 I couldn't do that, but now I can, and I love being me. I'm not normal (what is normal?) and I am happy to be different. 

There is a need, though, in anyone to belong. Belonging helps create a sense of identity. Our identity is not only in ourselves alone, but in who we are when we are with others. Falseness should never come into it. When we truly belong we can expose our weaknesses without fear of breaking ties, we can be really stupid, yet still loved. This was modelled by Jesus - who loved the tax collectors and the prostitutes and the disciples who asked stupid questions......

Why is it then, when belonging is so important, that we make it so difficult for people to belong? We expect them to be like us, to change. We avoid difficult issues just in case they might come between us. When obvious differences are exposed we use them as an excuse to move away and try and belong somewhere else. For me, belonging has changed because I have learned to deal with the things that meant I didn't belong. Those things are still there though, they don't go away. The need to be the same, the need to conform.

It makes me sad, in particular, when people feel like they are not welcome to belong to a church community. They are 'not good enough' or they have 'issues'. They are too different to anything the church has seen before. If you are the only one of something then groups of people who are the same find it difficult to relate to you. Why should someone who has learning difficulties find there is no place for them in church to learn? Why should someone who is single find there is no place for them in church unless they can be paired up? Why can someone not be accepted with the health issues they have without people trying to fix them? We would like to say that we are an inclusive church - that anyone could come and be welcome, be treated equally, but is that what we really do? 

To become a person who was able to belong, I had to change the way I approached things, but not everyone is able to do that. Why should the one who wants to belong nearly always be the one who has to change? Surely the group of people the person wants to belong to need to change too? 

Jesus said 'love your neighbour as yourself' not 'love your neighbour as they change'. 

Hope, Anger and Courage

"Hope has two lovely daughters, anger and courage. Anger at the way things are, and courage that they need not remain as they are." - Augustine

I've been really frustrated lately because it's often so difficult to translate words into action. I am deeply passionate about those for who life is unjust, yet the problem is so huge it's often seemingly impossible to see where to start. 

The BBC has a new series on called 'Welcome to India'. While I watched it I considered the things that I saw while I was in Kolkata and it reminded me of how big the task seems when we see so many people who live in the most appalling of conditions and do the kind of jobs we wouldn't dream of doing in the west. As these kind of living conditions and jobs are normal, it's quite easy to accept the idea that it's OK. It's not though, and that is what makes me feel both angry and helpless. 

The quote attributed to Augustine reminds me that anger is good - anger is right when it is righteous anger - anger at injustice, but that without the courage to do anything about it the anger is lonely - it sits and waits but there is no outlet that is for the good. 

So, I want to grow stronger in courage that things don't need to remain as they are, that I can do something that challenges injustice and changes situations and I pray that God will show me and lead me to the places where I can do that. 

Education, Learning and Community

I love education - I love learning, I love thinking about how we learn, I love discovering new ways of learning. I love maths (no secret) and I love learning new stuff - theology - totally different way of thinking to maths, answers to questions create more questions and thinking is more important than solution. 

I was talking to my nephew about learning maths. He is bored in maths lessons. He doesn't like being told what to do and doesn't like repeating the same thing over and over again as once he knows how to do it, he knows how to do it. I understand his frustration, but for me, doing the same thing over and over again is therapeutic and I like being able to do and get the right answer. I love logic puzzles and the feeling of completeness when one is finished. The problem with maths is that not everyone feels like that - and that is where the general feeling of dread and hatred of maths come in. Maths is apparently boring. I told somebody yesterday that I used to be a maths teacher and he asked me if I had repented. 

The thing I think that conventional Maths lessons too often miss out on is that light bulb moment of discovery. We are too often trained in methods and don't understand the reasoning. When I was teaching the most fun moments were when the students discovered things for themselves, when Maths made them excited..... Those light bulb moments of realisation are part of the beauty, for me, of learning. 

Discovery is so much better than spoon feeding. Discovery gives moments in learning that are not forgotten. While the current Government talks of going back to a method of education that leaves little space for discovery, the delight of those light bulb moments seem too far away. We are given choices, but only regulated ones. There is no space for thinking outside a box containing only what one particular group of people thinks is important. 

I am part of a learning community. I love that title. It expresses the place I am in as a place of discovery, a place of new, a place to journey. It is not a place where knowledge is boxed, but is a place where knowledge is discovered. Space is made for light bulb moments that are unique to the discoverer. This afternoon, I am an educator being educated by an educator about education. A learner learning from a learner about learning. The interchangeable position of educator and learner in a learning community makes me excited (and baffles my mind sometimes). 

I've been reading* about the church as a learning community - one of the key parts that the church plays is that of discipleship - discipling one another. We don't focus enough on the quality of our education in churches. Some churches educate in doctrine - 'you must believe this' and in contrast some churches education is so vague no-one is really sure where they are going. They pick up bits and pieces but they are not sure how it fits together. A good education system looks at the bigger picture to influence the smaller pieces and the smaller pieces to influence the bigger picture. It creates space for discovery as well as space to be told. 

Psalm 119 talks about God's word being a lamp to our feet. It's not in a box, as light gets everywhere. It's not dotted around, it's focused on our feet... guiding us on our way, giving space for discovery of new things. That's what learning needs to be like - with space for discovery and with guidance for where the knowledge is to enable that discovery. It needs to overall have a common purpose - guided ultimately by God - not vague, not so strict there is no space for exploration, but focused on truth and providing the most beautiful and exciting light bulb moments bigger than we can ever imagine. 

If church is to be a learning community, we all need to be prepared to get stuck in. We all need to be reading, exploring and discovering. We all need to be talking to each other and spaces need to be made to do that. If we are not prepared to read or talk about God's Word, and about the impact it has on our lives we'll miss out big time. 

*R W Pazmiño  Foundational Issues in Christian Education: An Introduction in Evangelical Perspective - liking it so far!