New Year.... New Roller coaster

This year I haven't been able to get Ronan Keating out of my head. I've never really liked Ronan Keating, but he reflects on how life, particularly for him his love life, is a bit like a roller coaster.

Well, 2018 has proved that to be true (not the love bit - after some challenging roller coaster experiences I leave that one well alone....). During the summer in 2017 I bought a diary that was not my usual black moleskine diary and it challenged me to face the year with great gusto.... 

It all began reasonably gently with a not quiet, but not too far out of the norm January.

Then February came and I got shoved from behind by a tractor into a hedge which left me in fear of any tractor that comes towards me or behind me or even close and left a groove in the road just down from my friend's house as a semi-permanent reminder of my first narrow escape of 2018. 

March followed and as I rushed to do last minute shopping for the Easter service, the wall of B&M bargains began to move beside me, and as I saw through the wall to the car pinning a woman against the breeze blocks (thankfully, as news reported, she was OK), and as I sat shaking in my car for fifteen minutes afterwards, I thanked God for my second narrow escape of the year and introduced the new liturgical fear induced concept of a holy hug to our renewal of baptismal vows service. The new cement between the bricks by the fire exit of B&M is a permanent reminder of what could have been as I rush to avoid the bargain food area in case it happens again..... 

It's been a year of reviews, endings and beginnings.... and the second half of 2018 has been full of it. I finished my meetings in York with the best newly accredited minister (NAM) mentor ever and bought a hanging bird decoration that confuses everyone who enters my living room with its propensity to get in the way of conversations because I haven't worked out where its permanent home is yet. I finished my dissertation on food and faith, with a mark I am unbelievably proud of, leading to an MA (with merit) in contextual theology - my third graduation - my least uneventful one - accompanied by a knitted Mary and Joseph who admired the hats as a helpful resting place to listen to the speeches and all the names. I finished my NAMs period and have been recommended by a surprising choice of font to get a certificate and a handshake (and I hope not too many hugs - I'd prefer a box if possible...). 

I've baked. A lot. 

I've faced some of my biggest challenges in ministry - both devastating and exciting.... walked with people, cared for people, had sleepless nights trying to work out the logistics of things I've never encountered before.... we've reviewed as a church who we are, where we might be going and how that all fits in with the bigger picture of where God is calling the church in Ramsbottom..... 

And through it all I've been exploring my future. 

And it turns out God is calling me to ride another roller coaster - to get off the northern mill town one and ride a different type of roller coaster - an on the edges of the big city roller coaster... a southern roller coaster....and discovering that has been a roller coaster in itself..... 

I'm moving after Easter from Ramsbottom (last Sunday is 28th April) - a church family who love deeply and have helped form me into the minister I am today - a place that has been home for over seven years - to New Addington Baptist Church in south east London - where the call from God has been so clear it has been quite overwhelming, and settlement (the mis-named Baptist moving on process that is anything but settling) has been like those steep bits of the roller coaster where you've been climbing towards it for a while but then you commit and it just goes...... with great speed mixed with joy and fear and a destination that feels completely and utterly right and is a relief when you get there (and breathe...). 

So as I face 2019, amongst the chaos of our country (don't even get me started on that), I'm leaving behind a year that was shoved in by tractor and is been ridden out with an eye on what it means to finish well, what it means to begin something new and what it means to be called south of Watford Gap (the service station with the worst car park in the British service station world). 

I'm excited, I'm nervous, I'm sad to be leaving..... but as I stopped laying out my fleeces at the beginning of December as the church called me to go, I am confident in the knowledge that trusting in God is a good - an excellent thing to do - whatever the challenges ahead might add to the journey ahead for any of us.... 

Happy new year! May 2019 bring new adventures.... (maybe without the tractors and the walls).

"The desert and the parched land will be glad; the wilderness will rejoice and blossom. Like the crocus, it will burst into bloom; it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy" 
Isaiah 35:1-2a

A way through the chaos.....

There is no doubt that our government, and therefore, our nation, is going through a time of turbulence, a time of chaos, a time of uncertainty, a time of anxiety.... a time of wilderness.... 

Today it has blown up big time as we heard announced this morning that the Prime Minister's leadership has been challenged by a call to a vote of no confidence. 

Whichever side we sit on in the Brexit debate, whether we think we should go back to a People's Vote or go through with no deal, whether we are hoping for any deal or whether we just hope the whole thing would go away.... we all are affected by this. The amount of money and time that has been spent on Brexit, it has taken resources away from those services we desperately need like the NHS and schools and social services and police and fire services and all of those things that help us work well as a country - all those things we are proud of.... it has taken the focus away from those who are already at the bottom and are struggling to find a way forward.... The news is depressing, repetitive and concerning....

Yet as we sit in the second week of advent we are reminded of a voice.... a voice that cries out in the wilderness.... a voice that cries from the physical wilderness into the wilderness of the Roman world..... into the wilderness of the Brexit chaos...

"Prepare a way...." 

As we deal with the uncertainty around the future, our non-functioning government and our concerns for this country, advent calls us to pause and listen.... if parliament would only pause and listen - to the people, to wisdom, to the bigger picture, then the way forward might just become clear.... 

Get off the rollercoaster

Stop

Listen....

"Prepare a way..."

John the Baptist spoke the words 'prepare a way' quoting from the prophet Isaiah to people who were certain of what they wanted and how it was going to happen and would have happily fixed things themselves (but knew they couldn't).... he promised hope of a future that would take them beyond their wilderness... 

As we sit in the chaos in the middle of advent, then a reminder of the hope that Christ brings to this broken world is needed more than ever....

"Prepare a way...." 

As we sit and wait, we pray. 

God who makes all things new, we pray for our nation. 
We pray for wisdom for our Government. 
We pray that our Government would stop, listen, and work together to find the way forward. 
We pray that it will quickly become clear. 
We pray for those who are suffering most because of the uncertainty of the future 
- for those who have seen the little they have being taken away
- for those who are stuck behind walls of paperwork and hostility as they seek to make a home
- for those who are struck by such deep anxiety because of the uncertainty that they don't know how to live. 

Lord have mercy. Help us to be people of love and peace and mercy and justice as we walk the way of Christ, who humbled himself as a servant, not lording it over others, but seeking their welfare and bringing them abundant life in Him. 

Help us to find the way in the wilderness

Amen

Car Park Views.... Advent Pausing.

Tuesday 8.30am

At the back of our church building is a park, a chimney, some trees and a railway line..... 

Well that's what the photos show. 

Ever since I've lived here I have loved the view from the car park. It feels so Ramsbottom - it's speaks of the town's past with the chimney that looks back to the time of the cotton mills the town grew on, and it's steam train line that, before the main train line closed would take people from Ramsbottom north or south, connecting them with people from far afield. It speaks of the towns present with the glimpses of the swimming baths and the park that reflects the attractiveness of the town to young families..... 

And....in a way, it speaks of its future... because as the past is celebrated with the stories of the mills and the steam train and as the present is lived on on the slide and the swings, the trees, they quietly, in their own tree like way grow.... following the rhythm of the seasons, each year growing differently, losing branches and raising their tops a little bit more. 

Thursday 8.30am

I love the view from the car park and often take a photo when the sky is beautiful at dawn or when the snow sparkles in the light of the sun... at Christmas and Easter that view speaks of the new life that Jesus brings.... and when I arrive early for a service, preparing for the day, it lifts me and inspires me to worship. 

There are days, however, when that view is not worth a photo, or is it? Two or three times a week I arrive at the church building about 8.30am and at this time of year, it's as the light is beginning to show.... so this week I decided that I would take a photo every time I arrived about that time and see how the picture changes.... being more attentive even on those days when it is not beautiful to the slow changes and inspiring stillness in the park, the chimney, the trees and the railway line. 

Today (Saturday) 8.30am

This morning, as the 1st December crept up on us, my photo was the least inspiring one yet...grey, dull and rainy.... proper Ramsbottom weather..... but it reminded me, that in advent, as we wait, as we look ahead, as the glitter and the sparkle rises and the momentum builds, that while we walk through life, where not every day brings bright sun or rainbows, that as we plod on, there is a promise that the new dawn will come. 

This advent, perhaps is a time to be more attentive.... not to the stories of the past, which are evident in the chimneys and the train line, nor the stories of the present, which are silent on a grey day as everyone hides inside, but to the stories of the future, which in our distraction, we miss, as the slow changes in the trees in the rhythms of the seasons pass us by..... 

Stop.... look at the familiar view.... what do you see? Where are the glimmers of hope and light in the seeming stillness... in the nothing happening.... that speak of the future that will be?


‘Arise, shine, for your light has come,
    and the glory of the Lord rises upon you.
2 See, darkness covers the earth
    and thick darkness is over the peoples,
but the Lord rises upon you
    and his glory appears over you.
3 Nations will come to your light,
    and kings to the brightness of your dawn'.  Isaiah 60:1-3

God, the Universe and Everything

A mathematical re-writing of Genesis 1 (based on the NIVUK translation - in italics)

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty – a new page of a new book waiting for the ink to hit the paper. Darkness was over the surface of the deep, there was nothing…. And the Spirit of God, the pen of the author of creation was hovering over the waters.

Then God said, ‘Let there be light’ and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated light from darkness. The light moved across the darkness at a constant speed that could not yet be measured (but by God who knew that the speed of light was a thing that would be discovered thousands of years later by creatures he had not yet created). There was nothing to bend the light, and the light just shone. God called the light ‘day’, and the darkness he called ‘night’. And there was evening, and there was morning – the first day.

And God said, ‘Let there be a vault between the waters to separate the water from water’. So God made the vault and separated the water under the vault from the water above it, the water contained properties yet to be discovered, properties which would mean that floating, living, buoyancy would be things that could be identified – things that right now, the creator only knew about. And it was so. God called the vault ‘sky’ – a place where one day machines would fly, a place where mysteries would be unravelled and the most beautiful discoveries in the universe would be founded. And there was evening, and there was morning – the second day.

And God said, ‘Let the water under the sky be gathered to one place, and let dry ground appear.’ And it was so. And now the tides that follow trigonometric patterns yet to be discovered were flowing as God called the dry ground ‘land’, and the gathered waters he called ‘seas’. And God saw that it was good.

Then God said, ‘Let the land produce vegetation: seed bearing plants and trees on the land that bear fruit with seed in it, according to their various kinds.’ And it was so. The land produced vegetation: plants bearing seed and according to their kinds and trees bearing fruit with seed in it according to their kinds. The plants grew in spirals and the seeds grew in sequence. The trees produced fractal patterns and the cycle of the seasons would be shown in their slumber….. And God saw how much there was to discover and it was good. And there was evening, and there was morning – the third day.

And God said, ‘Let there be lights in the vault of the sky to separate the day from the night, and let them serve as signs to mark sacred times, and days and years, and let them be lights in the vault of the sky to give light on the earth.’ And it was so – God made two great lights – the sun and the moon – and he also made the stars. The sun and the moon would govern the seasons and the months and the years and the days and the great constants of the universe were first seen…… and the possibility for space travel and discovery was imagined. And trigonometry raised its head again to see the way to the stars. Those stars contained the building blocks of creation, ready to transform and change…. And God saw that it was good. That was evening, and there was morning – the fourth day.

And God said, ‘Let the water teem with living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth across the vault of the sky’. And God showed long before flight was discovered that flight was possible. And God showed that diversity was key to creation as he created the great creatures of the sea and every winged bird according to its kind, through gentle change and nurture they survived. God blessed them and said grow and be fruitful…. And the breeding patterns of life began, ready from the start to be measured and multiply. And there was evening, and there was morning – the fifth day.

And God said, ‘Let the land produce living creatures: the livestock, the creatures that moved along the ground, the wild animals….. and it was so. God made all of these and he created ecosystems that could be measured over time – perfectly balanced – perfectly beautiful. And God saw that it was good.

Then God said, let us make humankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the creatures. Human beings will have the ability to understand all of this. Human beings will have the ability to make good and bad choices, they could knock a system out of joint or nurture it to work as was intended. Human beings will be filled with wonder at the science behind the world, and as they discover more they will choose to create or destroy.

So God created humankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.

Trees and their stumps....

There is not much I like more than sitting and walking amongst trees - particularly this time of year when the colours of the leaves are changing and the autumn sunshine accentuates the oranges and reds and yellows and golds and browns. Every time I look at the frosted glass in a my front door I think there is a light outside because the orange and yellow of my garden hedge shines so brightly. 

As I sit I listen to the sound of the wind through the leaves and it brings peace. As I look and as the leaves wind their way to the ground, I follow the shapes of the branches, which so often demonstrate the beauty of the maths behind the creation. Fractals and chaos, spirals and movement, reaching upwards towards the sky above the canopy of the forest or wood or the tree itself. 

A couple of weeks ago I took my second trip ever to Tatton Park (you have to pay for parking - I can't go too often).... last time I went to Tatton Park it inspired my whole dissertation - it's a dangerous and inspirational place to go. A haven of peace underneath the flight path of Manchester Airport where you can dream of far off places whilst enjoying the beauty of an English country estate. 

It was a beautiful autumnal sunny day so after my obligatory stop for soup and cake I went for a walk in the grounds round the lake, avoiding the stags with large antlers who were making some very strange noises.... and, as always, I was taken in by the trees. 

I stopped to take a photo when in front of me there was a perfectly formed tree. 

I admired its shape, it's almost perfectly fractal growth, how the leaves were almost dropping in formation and how it stood majestic, on its own, proud of the tree it was. It was a the tree that all trees wanted to be, the tree that set an example for all.... perhaps not huge yet, but with great potential for growth. 

As I walked on there were other trees that caught my eye in all their shapes and sizes, tall ones reaching to the sky, shorter ones reaching out to their neighbours, ones that framed the picture beautifully and ones that were almost obscured by the light of the sun. 

But then I came across this one.

A tree?

Surely a 'once was tree' and now a pile of broken branches....?

No, not at all....

As I walked up I noticed that although the tree looked to be on its last legs - it looked like it had been hit by a storm and had fallen apart in the process... it wasn't.... because out of the stump was growing new life. The growth on the picture is not the tree behind, but is directly from within the stump.... new life in the tree graveyard growing in unexpected ways. 

That tree had probably once been the tree that I first saw standing majestic and beautifully shaped, but then the storm had hit, and it broke apart.... 

But then it began to grow again.... 

At times of brokenness.... at times when there appears there is nothing left.... as long as that core remains... there is potential for new growth... growth in unexpected ways.... growth that comes to bring restoration....

Anyone who has heard me preach recently will know that I am, at the moment (well a lot of the time actually) inspired by the prophet Isaiah. Isaiah is a prophet full of hope through times that seem impossibly difficult. Isaiah describes his calling in chapter 6 and how God promises him that even when all is stripped away a stump will remain.... the holy seed.... that stump is a promise that restoration will come.... in God's timing. In God's way. 

As we look at the world around us, and at our own situations in all their brokenness, we should not simply compare these to the tree we used to be and mourn the loss of our branches, we must instead look ahead remembering that it doesn't have to be this way..... the life, death and resurrection of Jesus shows us another way... the best way. There is always hope... and that might be realised and released in unexpected ways and places. 

Just wait and see... 

"A green shoot will Sprout from Jesse's stump, from his roots a budding Branch. The life- giving Spirit of God will hover over him, the Spirit that brings wisdom and understanding, the Spirit that gives direction and builds strength.... each morning he'll pull on sturdy work clothes and boots, and build righteousness and faithfulness in the land"  Isaiah 11:1-5 (The Message) 

Looking for the best seat in the coffee shop? Look again....

I was sat in the corner of an empty coffee shop this morning drinking a large black Americano (it's Monday after all) pleased I'd managed to get my favourite seat again - the perfect seat where I had clear view of the door so I could keep an eye on who was coming in, but had my back to the wall so nobody could surprise me. The cushions were perfect and the temperature was right.

The coffee shop began to fill up. First was a someone who clearly was waiting for a business meeting beside me - his meeting companion turned up, introduced himself and the next time I looked they had disappeared. A woman with a toddler arrived and they sat a couple of tables away, ready for an early lunch. A toddler from our toddler group arrived, not accompanied by his Mum (who I know) but by three strangers who I assume were his Dad and Grandparents who were picking up takeaway lattes.

And then it happened. 

The door opened - a woman with a buggy and small baby. She sat one table away, shifted the tables and manoeuvred her buggy into place. 

The door opened again and another woman with a buggy waved hello and shifted the table enough to fit in a high chair - she looked at me now a little pinned in and apologised (a little) - I said 'someone is joining me' (worried they wouldn't get in). She shrugged and put the baby in the high chair. 

The door opened again and another woman (without a buggy) sat down at the table, handing her baby to another as she went to get a high chair for hers.... by this point the possibility of me having space for my companion was almost nil unless we wanted to sit knee to knee with our heads in the high chairs and (as I don't like to get too close to people and meeting in this way for a serious conversation would not have been good) I considered moving.... 

The women, as if in sync, then picked up their babies and stood up in a dance that only a group of mums can do and rocked.

I took that opportunity to slide across the bench and frown as my perfect seat was exchanged for the seat next to the sauces and the menus, ready for interruption from the next person who needed a condiment.

It reminded me of an episode from Gilmore Girls (not that I am an addict, honestly) where Luke the diner owner is rather grumpier than normal and he points out that the reason why is the group of parents and babies who set up camp in his diner every weekend, bringing tables together and changing the status quo. 

I realised I was turning into Luke... and I tried not to.

I recently had a conversation with a woman somewhat older than me about children in church. She said that they used to have a few children, but that when one of them got to 18 months, he began to get a bit boisterous and actually was too much of a distraction to the congregation and preacher and secretly she was glad he wasn't there any more. But she'd like more children in church. 

As I sat and was entertained by one of the babies in the high chair who cheered me up as I was waiting for a meeting that didn't happen because it had been planned for a different day, I reflected on this, and my own response to the entry of the three women to the coffee shop. I loved that those children were there. I loved that they made me smile.... but I didn't like being knocked out of place.... 

Perhaps the women should have thought of me a little more, but actually, it didn't matter, I still had a place to sit... I could still see the door... I still had a wall at my back so no-one could creep up on me... and actually no-one wanted condiments while I was sat drinking the last dregs of my coffee. I told myself off, and as I did so I reflected on what I could have said to the woman who was secretly glad that boisterous toddler wasn't there anymore. 

If we want to be welcoming and not just friendly to people of all ages, but particularly young children, we need to accept them as they are. Those women with babies - they just wanted some space, and yes, maybe they could have asked, but actually, it wasn't really a problem to frown at. The child who likes to run, let them run... as a preacher I'm happy that children feel free to run and play at the front (and I think it's good for the church to embrace that kind of life!). When the time is right, then part of my role as worship leader is to help them to learn how to and enable them in worship, so I sit down with them on the step and speak to them at their level as I share with them and the rest of the congregation... or I pick them up and they help me to lead the whole congregation as their smile tells us all something of the Kingdom of God... or I sit them on one of the 'special' communion chairs because the joy it brings to their faces brings joy to the rest of us... 

I do this because Jesus said 'let the children come to me, do not stop them - the Kingdom of God belongs to such as these...'.

My experience in the coffee shop was a bit of a warning to me that our resistance to a change in the status quo can be so deeply ingrained that we do not realise why we are acting in the way we are before it becomes too big to manage.... and that my challenge to that woman in the church should have been a challenge that I also give to myself...

As church we need to be constantly asking whether our frowns and secret celebrations are what place hostile barriers to prevent us welcoming like Jesus.... and we need to ask whether a slight slide down the bench to a place that is not perfect for our own needs might be what's best for the bigger picture and it might be just where God is calling us to slide...... in fact, if we are to be welcoming and not just friendly it probably is....

Don't be like Luke.... or actually like me in Monday morning perfect seat coffee shop mode.. there is a better way to be.... 

Go on.... slide....

Inn Church?

In the 1881 census my Great Great Granddad Joseph Christopher Wright (from now on JC) was staying at an inn in the hamlet of Nosterfield (which was about seven miles from his home near the village of Healey in North Yorkshire). I've always wondered why he was there on census night. Had he had a bit too much to drink and taken a bed for the night? Was he going home from a journey or heading out on one? Was he seeing friends? Was he working? Was he there for only one night or had he been there a while? 

The inn in Nosterfield JC probably stayed

I won't ever know the answer but that doesn't stop the intrigue. The role of inns at that time was interesting - they were a way point - a place of rest on a journey. They were places where the community gathered, often having some kind of communal dining room. They were places of food and lodging - places of sustenance for the weary traveller, whether they stayed one night or were there for weeks. Travellers would have probably been invited to eat with the more permanent community and join for a while... I wonder whether JC had been invited in in this way. 

The oldest inns were established by monks, who have a history and culture of hospitality - welcoming the stranger in.... hospitality is key in the ministry of many monastic communities to this day. After the dissolution of the monasteries the nicer inns survived, but the ones that were for poor pilgrims were far more likely to close. These inns came into their own as people began to travel more for work (like perhaps JC did .....?) and became places of sanctuary and rest for those on a journey. 

Inns are places that intrigue - places with stories to tell. There are many stories written throughout history that include inns - dark stories, horror stories, stories of safety... love stories..... life changing stories. When you enter an old inn you often see stories on the wall - like the story of the Bible at the White Horse Inn at the foot of Blencathra in the Lake District (a place with excellent food) where legend has it that if it is removed bad things happen, and now after the pub was flooded it stays firmly in its locked cupboard.... I wonder what stories JC heard that night in 1881?

Over the last few years I have become more and more passionate about churches as communities of hospitality. If church is to be just that, then perhaps an image of a church that might be helpful could be that of an inn. All those values that came out of the early monasteries, where strangers were not simply nodded to, but were welcomed in to stay and eat and sleep, might be something we might endeavour to imitate. Perhaps those who pass by our buildings, our places of worship, our activities and even our homes might become those travellers to welcome in as they seek a place to rest. 

If church was like an inn, we would celebrate its history through the stories we tell. Stories of our past, stories of our founding, stories of people we have met on the way. Stories of why there are certain things we hold particularly dear and stories of when life has been really difficult. Stories that inspire and stories that we learn from.... when we know our story we can tell it to the people we encounter on their way. 

If church was like an inn, then it would be a true community gathering place; not just for the centre core, but for the strangers we meet on the way. The dining room would perhaps be an attractive and intriguing place to be for those who stay for a short while as well as those who become more long term residents. Perhaps the voices of the short-term stayers - the travellers - might inspire us to see something of where God is leading us as they encounter different things on their way.

If church was like an inn, it would be a resting place - a place of sanctuary - for the weary traveller. It would be a place where true rest could be found. It would be a place where the traveller could be restored and fed. It perhaps would be a resting place that became a place of belonging on the way. 

If church was like an inn it would contain all sorts of people - the core staff who make the inn feel like home, whose lives are based in the community and who make sure that there is a warm place to gather - the guests who pop in for a moment, but quickly leave again, having eaten and drunk, only to return another day for a while longer - the long term residents who came for a while for work or for play and then chose to stay.... It would contain the troublemakers in the corner who need to calm down and the jokers round the bar who are inappropriate at times.... the thinkers, the doers, the sleepers, the dancers.

If church was like an inn it would be both home and place of pause, both sanctuary and sustenance, a place to belong and a place to stay.... and Jesus would be sat at a table sharing His story through the lives of those who were part of the community that gathered from all ways and none.... 


(if you are interested in reading about inns here is where I got some of my info)