Fishing, Maths and Faith

There are times in this crazy minister in training world I inhabit that I wake up and declare 'it would be easier if I was still a maths teacher'.Other teachers might argue 'no it's not' - but don't get me wrong, I'm not saying what I am doing now is harder, it's just that it's differently hard for me and affects me in ways I could never imagine. I was the kind of teacher who was able to separate out my maths teacher life and the rest of it. Relaxing, reflecting and getting away was easy. I was efficient. The nature of maths as a subject meant that a lot of the marking and planning could be done on auto pilot - delving deep into the beauty of the subject, but keeping it simple because maths - well - it just is. I was never called to be a maths teacher for ever - throughout my teaching life I knew I was only doing this for a time, that I would need to move on.....

But sometimes I wake up and say 'what if I was still there?'

I've been listening to a sermon preached by Jeff Lucas this morning called 'Breakfast with Jesus' (see video below), that just at the right time challenged that feeling when I woke up this morning and declared to God 'it would be easier if.....'. It was based on the passage at the end of John's gospel where Jesus meets the disciples on the beach and they have breakfast together. Peter and Jesus then have their famous interaction where Jesus challenges him 'Do you love me more than these'. 

Peter, the fisherman, who had given it all up to follow Jesus was fishing after Jesus' death. His life as a fisherman was easy. He may have not always got the catch of fish he wanted. He may have worked in the dead of night. But..... it was familiar, autopilot, what he was good at. 

"Do you love me more than these...." fish..... maths lessons...... those things I do that make me feel comfortable and efficient and good and.......

Jesus says 'me or the fish?' 

Faith or fish? 

Jeff Lucas talks about how once you've entered the Kingdom of God you will never be satisfied with just surviving. 

If I was still a maths teacher I would survive. I could be mardy when I wanted to be mardy. I could take out my frustrations on the pupils who irritate me (no teacher ever does that, honestly), I could throw a strop with my colleagues and not have them raise their eyebrows at my ridiculouslessness - my 'un-Christian' behaviour, I could go wild (in an introverted, restrained way), I could choose the people who I have in my life and avoid the ones who irritate me. 

But I wouldn't be the person who God created and called me to be. I'm not meant to be a maths teacher (some people are, and in serving God in that role, may wake up in the morning and say 'it would be easier if.....') but I'm meant to be living right now this crazy, sometimes mind blowing, life that God has called me to.

Faith or fish?  

Prosperous Planning?

I've become more relaxed when it comes to planning. I realise that when other people are involved they don't necessarily work to my time scale. So when I am planning, I don't always expect people to respond in the way I expect them to respond (if that makes sense!?). I plan in the way I see best, but make the plan flexible enough to be changed when it needs to be. I think there are a number of different types of people when it comes to planning......

Those who have everything planned in meticulous detail - who have a folder of routes and ideas and timetables and find it difficult to deviate from the detail. These people work better with those who just want someone else to make the plan. 

Those who want to collaborate with others when it comes to planning, but then when it comes down to it, get frustrated and end up becoming the one who plans in meticulous detail, but without the folders and the timetables, and with a gentle sniff of flexibility (I think I am this person). 

Those who have a vague plan in their head which only comes out with the right questions. These are often the most frustrating, but come out with some amazing stuff!

Those who plan last minute, are always late and would rather someone tell them what to do until someone tells them what to do. I'm never this person. 

We all seem to have a different view of what it means to make a plan. When you ask 'what's the plan?' each of these different people will have different answers.... from here it is planned out minute by minute to 'wait and see'. 

I've listened to a couple of sermons lately where I've been told that God has a plan for my life, so it's all going to be OK.  I've been told that if my life isn't going to God's plan (ie not going well) then I'm clearly not a good Christian. I've also read a few blogs that have been frustrated about the misuse of Jeremiah 29:11, which was said to a particular people group at a particular time and shouldn't be misused to tell me that God has a plan for my life. 

What I struggle with in this apparent plan of God where I am told that life is going to be rosy is when I see friends who are having a really hard time; who are suffering seemingly needlessly because things haven't worked out and then are told, well it's going to be OK, God has a plan, and it's wonderful. I believe God has a path for me to go on, but I think we've warped this idea of that plan by surrounding it with the phrase 'it'll be OK because......'. 

The thing is Jeremiah 29:11 doesn't talk about things going well right now. It doesn't talk about the Israelites escaping from exile right now. God tells the Israelites, who are stuck in Babylon, to make the best of a bad situation because there is hope in the future. They didn't want to be stuck in Babylon. They didn't want to be there so much they got angry and Psalm 137 was written where the babies of those who have hurt them are smashed against the rocks. This is not the Psalm of a nation who are are happy to be in exile, happy to say, well, it's OK, God has plans, but is the Psalm of a nation who are so frustrated at their situation that they express emotion by wanting to hurt the Babylonians as much as they have been hurt. 

Sometimes when we say, don't worry, it's going to be OK, God has plans, we forget that the people we are saying it to are those who have had everything meticulously planned out but have been thrown into exile. When we see the plight of Christians driven out of their homes in Iraq, we can't imagine saying 'don't worry, Jeremiah 29:11'. 

What this verse does promise the Israelites, however, is that there is hope in the future. They are promised hope in a future where they will prosper. They did eventually make it out of exile, but life was never the same again. For me, that hope comes in Christ, who was sent by God into the world to die so all may be restored - so that all may have eternal life. When we talk about plans we are not talking about life getting better today, or tomorrow. When we talk about plans we are not talking about that deep seated pain an individual has gone through being what God wanted for that person. When we talk about plans, we see hope in the future that there will be a way out of this, that there is hope that there will be a future where there will be no more pain or sickness or death. This is Christian hope. This is the hope that brings to completion the plans of prosperity in Jeremiah 29:11. We might see glimpses of that as we journey through life, but that hope of prosperity is more than a glimpse.  

When Christ came to earth as a human being, he brought God's Kingdom to earth. I believe we are living in a time where God's Kingdom has come through Christ, but that the world has not been fully restored. When we see glimmers of hope, through healing, through reconciliation and through the clear signs of God's love poured down on earth, we see some of that Kingdom. We were told in church this morning that where we stand against what society chooses to do that doesn't reflect God's Kingdom we need to offer an alternative. Where people are fighting we need to seek peace, where people have no food we need to seek to bring food, where people are suffering we need to stand in solidarity with them to bring them out, where Richard Dawkins suggests abortion is better than a child with Downs Syndrome (his words this week have made me so angry) we need to speak out. Every time we do that we bring glimpses of hope, glimpses of God's Kingdom, glimpses of those plans that God has for us. Hope that speaks of this:

"He will settle disputes among great nations. They will hammer their swords ploughs and their spears into pruning-knives. Nations will never again go to war, never prepare for battle again".        Isaiah 2:4

I know you?

"I know you!"

Do you? What does it really mean to know someone? Walking down the road you see a familiar face, you say to the person next to you - "I know that person"....do you? You read an application form or a wikipedia page detailing the facts of somebody's life. You meet them and you know them.....Do you? 

To know someone you need to spend time with them. You begin to find out the little things that make them tick. You know what irritates them and you do it all the more to get a reaction (no, nobody does that!??!). 

One of my favourite Psalms talks of being known - being known by God. Psalm 139 talks of God who has searched me, examined me, excavated me, dug deep down into me. It talks of God who is endlessly fascinated by everything we do - God who cares enough to count the hairs on our heads, who collects our tears and understands each one. It talks of God who knows every single knot in our stomach when we are worried about something. It talks of God who knows how to undo the knots but also knows the knots we don't want to undo because we think it will hurt too much. 

This is God who to whom nobody is anonymous, to whom nobody is a write off, who loses nobody in a crowd and who knows each person by name. God understands us in a way nobody can, not even those who know us best. 

How wonderful it is that God knows me fully. 

I love Psalm 139, but when I spent time in preparation for my sermon last Sunday I stopped and I thought for a moment..... 

Is it not a bit creepy? The fact that God is there in everything. The fact that he sees everything? It's wonderful, but it's a little bit scary. It talks of God who hems us in, behind and before - which reassures but also constrains. God who besieges - surrounds us with a fortifying wall.

It sounds a bit like the over-controlling partner in a marriage who loves their partner deeply but wants to know too much. Or a bit like the parent who wants to let the child go, but can't and loves them so much they still want to be involved in every aspect of their life. It talks of a feeling of being smothered. 

Or does it? 

One of the arguments I have heard against the existence of God is one where people choose to believe that the God we worship is a dictator type God who looks down on his people, controls their movements and gives them no freedom. That argument speaks of the threat of this Psalm - of a God who controls. If we picture God like that we live in a shade of angry gloom - the idea of God becomes despicable. If we think of hemming in like being besieged in a medieval war where God is the evil besieger, then we are left in a struggling poverty where we feel threatened by him. 

But.... that's not the God of Psalm 139. This is God who knows us intimately and wants to stand in the hemmed in city with us - he doesn't know us from afar, but knows us from within. He is not an over-looker, but is a factory worker fighting in the union for a peaceful yet justice ridden outcome (I love 'The Mill' - excellent Sunday night TV!). If we feel threatened by God who hems us in, we need to question whether we are seeing God as a God of dictatorship or God as a God of love, reaching out not in control, but deep love. 

To see God as a God of love and not a dictator, creepy stalker or chaperone the best place to understand that deep love is on the cross - where instead of hemming us in a siege to control our every move, God sacrificed his only Son, Jesus Christ, so that we could be liberated - so that we might know God who builds a fortress to protect us, living in it with us, gathering our tears, cherishing our thoughts, knowing our deepest desires and knots. 

Divine knowledge is far beyond any human knowledge, and divine presence is far beyond anything we can fathom. The Psalmist beautifully describes the depths of this love. 

When we choose to accept that it is not a threat to be known by God, our life turns from one that is hemmed in by expectation where our view of God is a far off being controlling and dictating our every move to one that is stamped with the word 'free', with the word 'child of God' where there is no need to hide any more: all is accepted. You will be searched, but nothing will be found in you that hasn't already been embraced and loved. God formed us, made us who we are. He loves us, loves us just the way we are and sent his Son to die for us so that we might know him.  

On Bishops, disagreements, the Bible and me

I've watched with interest the discussions about female bishops in the Church of England this week. I've also been reading some people's comments on it. Most of my friends are supportive, celebratory or silent. 

But then... there are those voices that are none of these. Those that think women should be silent in church. Those that think women in ministry is a great big fat sin. Those that point to Eve as the temptress and say 'this is why'. I get that other people have different views. I understand where they have coming from. What I don't understand is where when I disagree with them they think I haven't thought it through. I haven't commented this time. The arguments make me tired. They question who I am and who I am called to be without talking to me about my story. They assume I am a flaky sort of Christian who doesn't believe in much really. 

The thing is, as I read the Bible. As I wrestle with the really hard stuff in the light of Christ I see God as one who values women, gifts women, puts them in places where society wouldn't put them. I see women leading churches, women who are top in business, female deacons, female apostles, female world changers. 

I know your argument but I don't get your refusal to listen. You say you are open to change but you won't engage in conversation. You just keep shouting. 

The thing is, my gender does not define what role I can take, but God does. God has made me who I am. He has given me the gifts he has given me. He has made me very capable. 

I like baking, I hate cleaning, I can't sew. I'll happily shift furniture and build flat packs. I love driving and I have good spatial awareness (apart from when it comes to door handles). I'm not at home making drinks, washing up, arranging flowers and teaching small children. I'm a leader, a preacher and as stubborn as stubborn can be. I am single. I'm likely not to get married. I'm OK with that. I am not missing anything but a bit of self discipline when it comes to savoury snacks.

What I do know in all of this is that God made me who I am. I love his word, I wrestle with it regularly. I thirst for knowing more. I want to be true to it. I want to serve God the best I possibly can. I believe I am called to lead a church. 

So please think before you speak. Your words hurt. Your words question who I am in Christ. Disagree by all means, but disagree with grace and take me seriously.

(For discussions that might be helpful, Rachel Held Evans comes from an American evangelical background. She writes a lot about gender and the Bible. Her blog can be found here http://rachelheldevans.com). 

I want to fly

I regularly walk down paths and walk past other paths and think 'I wonder where that goes?' and then carry on in my normal direction. If I am going somewhere that's OK - it wouldn't make sense to take a different path if I didn't know where it went. However, if, like yesterday, I am just going for a walk to clear my head, the 'wonder where that goes' can be answered. 

So yesterday I did. I didn't go the way I normally go, I turned sharply left, up steep steps to the top of a small hill I've never climbed before. It wasn't that exciting. It didn't take me where I expected it to, but I did it - I didn't just wonder, I went. 

When I got to the top of the hill the path came out from the woods into a field - a field that I've walked in before but never found the path to the wood. As I walked through the field the path system began to make sense. I knew where I was going, but was disappointed to end up where I had been just fifteen minutes ago. My loop walk was not a loop any more. 

Before I ended up where I had been, I saw a movement in front of me. The swift flapping of wings which then stopped. A butterfly had landed on the floor in front of me. It wasn't a colourful butterfly, but it was a butterfly - perfectly formed and beautiful. 

Butterflies seem to be the theme of the month. I have two laminated pictures of butterflies I've picked up at things I've been to. I seem to be collecting a lot of clothes with butterflies on and the new beautiful coat I have just bought has butterflies on the inner lining that I didn't notice until I had bought it. 

Butterflies speak of freedom. They speak of hope. They speak of new life - a new life that is released from the boundaries of the chrysalis that came about after a seemingly long lifetime of leaf munching. They speak of a life on the wind that blows wherever it will. When I see a dead butterfly although I admire its beauty, I mourn the loss of its ability to ride on the wind. 

Butterflies remind me that even in the most monotonous of things (leaf munching) there is hope of something better. They remind me that even where something looks dead (the chrysalis) there is hope of new life. In the human created systems that restrain us to how things 'should' be done we miss the freedom that that hope brings. Too often our systems institutionalise us and leave us in a place where leaf munching seems best or where we want to keep warm and safe in our chrysalis and we miss the beauty of hope. 

Yet when we let go we can ride on the wind. I love that. I don't want to be constrained or held back because of what we like doing now. I don't want to be stuck inside a controlling and constricting chrysalis. I want to fly.

John 3:8 says this:

"The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit."

When we live with the freedom the Spirit brings we are able to take the path we are guided to even if we don't know where it is going and be confident in the knowledge that it's going to be OK because we can trust in God who brings the greatest hope and freedom we can ever dream of. 

It's not always easy, it's very risky, but to be released from that chrysalis brings new and exciting opportunity. I want to fly. I want to stop 'wondering if' and go with where God takes me.

What makes you beautiful?

When we think of the word beauty we often go first for looks – what is beautiful to our eyes. The beautiful person who dazzles us. The sparkly shoes that glimmer in the corner of my living room. The building that we walk into and makes us go ‘wow!’. Beauty is standing on the top of the hill and seeing creation unfold before you. It’s looking at the trees and seeing how they grow. It's in Mathematics – the completion of equations, the way everything holds together.

But beauty is not only about looks. There is a more holistic feeling to beauty. Beauty is something about something or someone that provides an experience beyond what we might comprehend. I was watched the secret life of babies last week which talked about how we are naturally wired to look into a babies face and be attracted to who they are and want to care for them – want them to be part of our lives. The experience of beauty talks about balance and harmony – leading to feelings of attractiveness and well-being.

One of the words in NT Greek translated beauty is ὡραῖος which talks of something that is seen just at the right moment -  of ripeness - a fruit being there at the right time and being just the right sweetness.

What makes humans beautiful as individuals and as community is that we are made in the image of God – who we are – not in looks but in existence should reflect the loving, mighty and awesome God who we worship. As we are made in the image of God our values and the way we behave as a community become more important. To be truly beautiful we need to follow Christ’s example – who is the true and complete image of God.

A community that is made in the image of God should be a community that brings the hope of Jesus. If a community speaks of living as beauty it speaks of being incarnational – of bringing the light of Jesus wherever it is. A community that continually seeks to do this becomes attractive because it speaks more and more of Jesus. Jesus attracted people because he was a walking, talking embodiment of God’s love.

In the words of some band called One Direction (no I am not a fan) what makes you beautiful is that you light up my life like nobody else. 

Or, even better, in 2 Corinthians 5:17

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: the old has gone, the new is here!" 

What makes us beautiful is Christ - who is the light of the world. 

Mothering Sunday Prayer

I wrote this prayer to use during our Mothering Sunday service. Mothering Sunday is both a celebration and a time of sorrow. We feel both of these emotions with all of our senses: in all we see, hear, smell, touch and taste. A prayer of journeys and of blessing.

Loving God, you are both Father and Mother to us. We come to you today all on different parts of our journey. Some of us are searching, some of us are feeling lost, some of us are hurting, some of us are feeling loved. Wherever we are and whatever we feel we come to you as our parent – the one who understands, and knows and walks with us.

As we journey with you today we hear the sounds of joy. As families meet together and celebrate being family together. As children tell their mothers how beautifully wonderful they are and as mothers tell their children how loved they are.

We also hear the sounds of mourning. We pray for those for whom this Mothering Sunday is a reminder of loss. A reminder that their Mum is not with them any more. We pray for peace. We pray for comfort. We pray that you might pick them up and carry them today.

As we journey with you today we taste the sweetness of new life. We thank you for the children in our lives. The way they smile, the way they brighten our lives. Help us to welcome children as part of our family, loving them unconditionally as you love them.

We also taste the bitterness that this day brings. For those who have not been able to have children we know that today can be a sorrowful and painful reminder of that. We pray for those people who have desperately wanted to be parents and have not been able to be. We pray that you might bring some sweetness into their lives through the blessings of others. We pray for comfort. We pray that you might pick them up and carry them today.

As we journey with you today we see the beauty in family life. We see how you have blessed us and cared for us. We remember where you have taken us and we look forward to where you are taking us next. Help us to continue to trust you as the future unfurls before our eyes.

We also remember that there are people for whom the future is not what they expected to see. We pray for those who have lost a child – who were looking forward with joy only to have that dream shattered. We pray for peace. We pray for comfort. We pray that you might pick them up and carry them today.

As we journey with you today we remember the smells of home. The smell of freshly baked cake, a delicious meal and the familiar. We thank you for what you have provided for us.

We also remember that not everyone has enough, that not everyone can experience the smells of home. We pray for those children who have no home, who have no one they can call Mum or Dad and who need caring for. We pray for those who do not have enough food or money. We pray that you will provide for them. We pray that you will pick them up and carry them today.

As we journey today we reach out our hands to you. We know that where we put our hand in your hand we can rely on your guidance, your love, your arms that carry us when life is hard.

We also remember those we love who have not reached out their hands to you or have let go, gone their own way. Our children who do not know you, our parents, our partners, our siblings, our wider families and the people we care about deeply. We pray that they may reach out to you, take your hand and choose to follow you.

Loving God, you are both Father and Mother to us. We come to you today all on different parts of our journey. Some of us are searching, some of us are feeling lost, some of us are hurting, some of us are feeling loved. Wherever we are and whatever we feel we come to you as our parent – the one who understands and knows and walks with us.