Uncertain Tenterhooks

I'm on uncertain tenterhooks at the moment. It's less than a month before I'm meant to be going away for one of my favourite parts of the year - my family annual shindig to the Lake District. This year it looks a little bit different - we've already scattered ourselves into cottages and caravans to ensure that we keep to the rule of 6 and we are not going to be able to spend the time together we would normally do..... but with talk of a London lockdown or a national lockdown, there is a the smell of uncertainty in the air. 

I did my online shop this morning and for the first time in four months there were no delivery slots available. There is talk again of limits on toilet rolls and other stuff and I could only get wholewheat noodles (too healthy?) - signs perhaps that we are trying to gain control in an uncertain world. 

But buying non-wholewheat noodles in abundance isn't going to bring any certainty in an uncertain world (even if we could get them). It'll just mean we will need more storage and will have to negotiate the Ikea queue. 

As we're stretched like a cloth on a tenter trying to find some slack somewhere to make it a bit more comfortable, the hooks that hold us pull us tighter, and something feels like it has got to give. 

As well as the spare room full of toilet rolls, that pulling and stretching comes out in other unhelpful ways - in snappy behaviour, in ill health, in retreating further within. Something breaks and we run right at the risk in front of us and beyond and find ourselves in the middle of a crowd with no way out and the edges of the cloth begin to tear...

This permanent state of uncertain tenterhooks is not good for us. So how do we survive? How do we loosen the tension a little and sit slightly less uncomfortably in amidst in the strain? 

Firstly, we have to accept we cannot control the situation. What will be will be. I don't cry very often, but in the last few weeks there have been moments where I cannot take the lack of control anymore and they've bubbled up inside. I have begun to learn to distinguish the things I can change and the things I can't and am trying to lay them down by distracting myself with other nicer things.... and laughing.... because sometimes laughing is all we can do. If we can laugh in the face of peril, then we are probably doing a little bit OK. 

Secondly, we have to accept that we cannot control other people's take on the situation.  In our frustrations with those who are not prepared to follow social distancing guidelines appropriately - who hug and kiss like it's gone out fashion and think that other people don't find mask wearing uncomfortable too but are wearing them anyway (over their nose) because it's the right thing to do right now. We can't go and force that mask on their face or drag them away from the embrace they are loving, so instead we must walk away, what will be will be, the problem is not ours to own. Choose to step back and not be involved. 

Thirdly, we must, we must indulge in self care. Like putting your oxygen mask on a plane before you give it to the person sitting next to you, there is a need to ensure that we keep doing things that release the tension of the hooks. For me it is walking like it's going out of fashion and releasing my frustrations on an unsuspecting person on the end of the phone or whatsapp or zoom. It's making space for a bath because that's the only time I simply am. It's indulging in my current addiction to Married at First Sight Australia (on All 4 - amazing). It's holding onto the hope that one day this will all be better. It's being determined to be more positive than negative however hard that is. It's continuing with the laughter before it turns more sinister. It's breathing, and breathing and breathing again. 

This practice of pausing, of catching our breath, of refilling, of finding rest, it's a practice that's been there right from the beginning of creation on that seventh day when God rested. In breathing in the rest that God embedded as normal in this world the state of uncertain tenterhooks becomes easier to bear, the laughing becomes more of a natural thing and the pulling feels a little less eye watering than when we are trying to control the tension of the hooks. Lean in, let go.... God is. 

Jesus said this:

"Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me - watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace" (Matthew 11:28ish-29ish (from The Message)).

A Covid-19 Lament (Psalm 80ish)

 

Psalm 80ish – A Covid-19 Lament

God listen to us.

You are our Shepherd who we know guards us, protects us and seeks our good.

God, you call us to follow your lead. 

You sit enthroned with the angels, your way is mapped out before us.

 

God – wake up! Wake up and do something about what is happening now. Come and save us.

Restore us, O God; make us better than we have ever been. Smile upon us so that we might be saved.

How long, God Almighty, will this virus continue to rage? We pray and it gets worse not better.

We feel helpless against its might, we cry out, we weep, we mourn. Sometimes we are just at the end of our tether. 

The country we live in is not dealing with all of this well. The mockery of non-compliance seeks to undermine any attempt to control an uncontrollable virus.

Restore us, O God; make us better than we have ever been. Smile upon us so that we might be saved.

You gave us promises. You brought us all here – a light on a hill, seeking to transform your community.

You showed us your way, you called us on, we became something great and we made a difference.

Why have you taken it all away? Why does every piece of legislation pick another hole in who we are?

Every step is an effort, every choice is exhausting.

When will it end oh God?

Turn your face to us, smile upon us, see what is going on. Watch over us….

You created us, you put us here, you gave us hope in Jesus

But now we are cut off from one another, and we do not know where it will end.

May your hand rest upon us, show us hope.

 

We will not turn away from you. Help us to look ahead. We call on you.

Restore us, O God; make us better than we have ever been. Smile upon us so that we might be saved.

Do not grow weary.....

"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up" - Galatians 6:9

This verse came up on my facebook wall at the weekend and I can't get it out of my head. It came up in the middle of a number of days that have been emotionally draining, both personally and in work. Where I've tried to escape in the last few days, my escaping has been interrupted by things that I wouldn't expect to happen on any normal day. Sometimes the hits just keep on coming. 

So where does that verse fit into this? It's a verse that I and others have used in the past to urge ourselves and one another on - what you are doing is good, keep on going, look at the difference you're making. It's a verse that has been used to encourage people to get through the barrier, to make a way through the wall of tiredness that makes the task ahead seem impossible. 

But it's also a verse that could just tip you over the edge. 

The voices that cry out in my Baptist Minister circles at the moment are ones that take this verse and use it as a reason to keep going, but are at that point of tipping over the edge. The reality of ministerial burnout, even for those who always appear strong and to have it together, is a concept that a number are having to wrestle with at the moment. The voices are crying out "I can't do this anymore", "I've had enough", "the mountain is too big to climb". Do not become weary of doing good has become a reason to not stop, not take holidays, not take rest days, to feed everyone except themselves. The pressure from congregations who want the ministers to have all the answers to questions they are not experts in answering is huge. 

Perhaps we need to pause for a minute and turn this verse on its head. Perhaps we need to let go of the need to focus on the 'do good' and focus on the 'do not become weary'. In churches led by action and programme and never ever stopping ever, perhaps we have come to our limit. 

Galatians 6 says not only verse 9, but also 'watch yourselves', 'carry one another's burdens', 'test your own actions', '[don't] compare yourselves to others'..... 

If we are not to grow weary, then it makes sense that we keep an eye on ourselves and one another, it makes sense that we check ourselves for weariness and do something about it, it makes sense that we don't compare ourselves to others, because it only leads to the myth that we're not good enough. I have no idea how some ministers do what they do, but that's them, and I am me. 

Do not grow weary in doing good calls us away from a life of self-centred laziness, but it doesn't call us to a life of exhaustion. God created sabbath. God put sabbath smack bang in the middle of the 10 commandments. God stopped the world that was full of humans trying to be saviours when the temple curtain tore in two.

Do not grow weary in doing good calls us to rest, it calls us to refill, it calls us to look ahead with a pause to resource ourselves for the way ahead. It calls us to remember that we are here to restore, but that we can't do that if we're lying on the floor and are not able to even crawl ahead. 

Do not grow weary in doing good. 

Do not grow weary, for as you take the path ahead which will bring much good, the possibility for burnout is real. 

Take care of yourselves, take care of your leaders, and make space for rest. That will enable the good to happen. 

Do not grow weary, for God is with us. Do not grow weary, for God calls us in his way. Do not grow weary, for the path ahead is not meant to be walked alone. Do not grow weary, because even though the future is difficult to see, the promise is that the future will be good. 

Do not grow weary. God gives you rest.

Pulling up the rug.....

Some of you might not relate to this because you are of the category of 'super-cleaner' - you always move your furniture and your rugs when you clean so the concept of what I am going to say will be beyond your comprehension, but bear with me..... 

For those of you who do not do that, think about that day you decide to do a more thorough clean than normal and you decide that your rug in your living room needs a big clean and the floor underneath as a result. You remove your coffee table from the rug - it's heavy because of all the stuff inside, so you remove all of the stuff too and pile it up somewhere to be replaced later. As you do so you remember the time you took that photo, the memory of the day you started the jigsaw that sits on top, but never quite got finished. You pick up that book you meant to read and put it on top of the one you've read 500 times. You move the pile of letters that needs filing to another 'to be filed' pile and you remove all the little bits and pieces that are handy to have lying about.....

And finally you get to the rug. You roll it up and discover things you'd put there to deal with later. The letter from an ex that you couldn't bear to throw away at the time. The card that tried to fix a friendship but you couldn't bear to read at the time. Pages from your old journal where you write in detail of the impossibly difficult time you had find their way into your hands and you remember why you hid them because to deal with them at any time would be painful and difficult. In amongst the mess you find an article that you'd kept because it had inspired you to dream big dreams in the past, but you weren't ready to dream quite so big just then. There was hope, but the hope got hidden under the everyday activities of life. 

And of course there is dirt, and there is dust, and all those things that got brushed under the rug you didn't know were there, the broken bits of that mug you dropped on the floor that didn't get hoovered up and there is a lot of cleaning to do..... 

You sit and you look at the mess, the piles around you, and you have a cup of coffee and you sit and you wait, but it doesn't move. If the mess is going to cleaned up, if the ghosts of the past are to be dealt with, if the dreams we once had are to be realised, someone has to do something about it.... 

The Covid-19 pandemic and the subsequent lockdown seems to have created an atmosphere that has shined a spotlight on what is under that rug. In our churches, in our organisations, in our government, in our lives, the things that have been brushed under the rug to be dealt with later or simply ignored because they are too difficult to deal with are being revealed, entangled in the mess we didn't even know was there. As all the activities and busyness of everyday life has been stripped away, what has been hidden beneath the rug has gained a life of its own and is really raising it's head. 

It's led us into all sorts of difference spaces - the blame headspace (it's not my mess), the 'someone else will clear up after me' headspace (I mean it's their job isn't it?), the apathetic headspace (it's not my job definitely and I'm just going to carry on the way I've always carried on), the 'let's unroll that rug again and cover it all up' headspace, the 'let someone else do it and we'll kick them while they do it' headspace ...... but none of that deals with the mess. 

Perhaps this is the time to face up to the mess, the broken bits, the past and do some mending, do some clearing out, do some dealing with, do some healing and when we've done all that, begin to dream those dreams again...... lay down the rug on a clean floor, place on top a new coffee table and step tentatively into a more pleasant, less busy, better future. It might be painful, it might tear us apart, we might ache because the sticky mess in the middle of the floor that we can't identify involves more elbow grease than we ever knew we had..... but something needs to be done, because as the brokenness is highlighted, the mending must begin, the mess under the rug we've been ignoring must be faced before it becomes even greater. 

Moving forward doesn't happen without a new start, forgetting the past doesn't happen if we are going to rediscover it again, put off the old, put on the new..... for that is the way in which we are taught. 

"....take on an entirely new way of life - a God-fashioned life, a life renewed from the inside and working itself into your conduct as God accurately reproduces his character in you" - Ephesians 4:24ish (the Message)


image from here https://images.app.goo.gl/rAF55Zcregi3cqCW9

Are we nearly there yet?

Those long journeys in the back of the car surrounded by books and quizzes and things to spot, the anticipation that one day we could get out of this metal box. The questions begin. 

The delayed train stops in the middle of nowhere, you look out the window and the driver armed with a torch and his bag that should have already been by his front door at home walks to the other end of the train to turn round because the way ahead is blocked. The frustration sets in. 

The top of the mountain seems clear ahead but on arrival at the top the next climb ahead shows the top is much further away and the climb continues. The knees hurt, the legs ache, the end moves beyond the line of sight. 

The empty space sits waiting to be filled with the sound of singing and family, the smells of eating and the beauty of Christ centred community. The regulations and barriers are erected and all that was asked for is shifted to another virtual place. 

At the beginning of lockdown the whole Christian world was quoting Isaiah 26:20. I wrote a blog on it before it became THE verse. The expectation of the numbers pointed to a date 26 days away or 26th April or 2nd June or some sort of mathematical operation to the date of today that would mean lockdown would magically disappear. 

But it doesn’t work like that. The words ‘are we nearly there yet?’ don’t get us any closer. Manipulating the numbers doesn’t bring the magic miracles the manipulator would like. Just because we’re told we can meet for worship it doesn’t mean we can worship in a way that we actually want to......More than 100 days later that instruction from Isaiah 26:20 is still more than relevant - look at the second half of the verse. 

“Go, my people, enter your rooms and shut the doors behind you; hide yourselves for a little while until his wrath has passed by”

The danger isn’t over, in fact it’s still very much here. It doesn’t say hide until the pubs open or hide until you feel like it, it says hide until it’s gone...... take it slowly, don’t rush, pause for a while. The open door will come.....

In the meanwhile, it's time to discover and to use our imagination, look ahead, look beyond, because there are opportunities ahead we have never dreamed of before.  

Food, Faith and Lockdown

Those who know me will know I am passionate about the role of food in building faith community. The bonds we make around the table are key in building community. Relationships are built, we learn off one another, the table equalises us and we all have to eat. It's central to who I am as a person and in my calling to minister. 

And not gathering around the table has been hard. For us in our church community, food is normally central to what we do. From our community cafe that had just reopened and begun to build in momentum to our mental health support group that ends with a meal to our first Sunday gatherings around the most amazing bring and shares you've ever seen to the impromptu moments in the church building between and around the groups we lead to every meeting where someone will inevitably bring in biscuits or cake or chocolate to our holiday Make Lunch sessions where families come together round the table to share life together in what would otherwise be a difficult time.

Yet now, the only food activity that has continued since our building closed for anything but this very thing is the now twice a week deliveries of food from the amazing charity fareshare to households we support. As we sort the food for the deliveries we make, some of the value of the table is there - the conversations that go on in the kitchen echo with the joy of meals gone by and the opportunities that gathering around food brings for sharing life together are hinted at as we gather round tables to share out food. 

The question of re-opening our buildings and how that will work and what it will look like is hovering in the air. What does church look like post lockdown for a community focussed church without the resources of some of the bigger churches where during lockdown the support needed in the community has been magnified?

And it turns out that actually, the change in our gathering around food has given us some of the answers. In a community where physical presence is key, where internet connection is often on a mobile, where private outside space is minimal and where mental health issues are only going to grow as a result of the trauma we have experienced in the last few months the issues around social distancing in a building to worship are not the issues at the forefront of all of our minds. How do we build community when physically meeting is more difficult? How can we offer mental health support where through the screen we can't tell what the other is thinking? 

In a facebook group this morning, we had this discussion and we began to talk about how food has continued to be a key meeting, growing and life giving thing during lockdown. As we haven't as much gathered, but have paused as we play knock a door step back on deliveries, the deep love of Jesus has been felt in that two metre gap. Where food has been a reason for encounters, those encounters have become beautiful and, at times, essential. 

Often when you meet an individual or family on the doorstep you are the only person they have seen that day. The conversations that are had at that point are often pastorally important, absolutely needed and what my church community calls 'God moments'. One week I spent two hours delivering salad leaves, not because we had a lot (although we did) but because of the conversations we had and along with one of our other drivers who encountered someone at absolutely the right moment, we were able to be church on the doorstep through the moments we had on the way. We wouldn't have been able to have those conversations without the salad leaves. 

At the moment it's in those most needed encounters that we feel the presence of God most deeply. Perhaps post lockdown means building on that. Perhaps food is again the answer, not table gathering as such, because that won't be for a while, but door step encounters in the sharing of food, a moment with a neighbour across (or beyond) the garden fence sharing life, a picnic in the park with however many people is safe at that time, a moment outside the church building with coffee and prayer, an open air cafe, a pause outside a block of flats, a sit on a wall. Perhaps in the cake deliveries, in the church garden meetings, we might begin to feel and become the Christ-centred community we long to be. 

And one day, we will probably gather and we will probably sing and we will very likely sit tightly round tables in the small space we have, but those doorstep moments we have had on the way will enrich us as we speak of the encounters we have had with the deep love of Jesus, as we've not gathered, but stood, with food in between us, an excuse, a reason for a meeting where God's voice could be heard in the two metre gap. 

Calling in a world turned upside down

What do you do when your calling has been turned upside down, twisted and turned, snapped in places and left flailing in a weird liminal space that makes no sense to anyone, and you are trying to work out what it means to be called in a time that doesn't make sense in itself.....?

Someone said to me at the beginning of this pandemic when we had to shut down virtually all our activities that it must be hard for me as a community minister, but at the time I didn't really get it. 

But now I do. As I had begun to find a new identity in a new place it hasn't just been slowly unravelled, the very foundation of who I am has been ripped from beneath my feet. 

And I think I'm not the only one feeling that way. 

Why am I writing this blog? Because I want to acknowledge the pain. Because I want to recognise that this hurts. Because as we rediscover what life is, it's not some utopian dream, it's more like a rocky mountain climb where the top is far beyond anything we can see. As the present seems removed from anything we'd like it to be, where the things that level us and keep us upright are like greasy poles to cling with all our strength to, we've all got to recognise that we are not invincible, in fact we are right now the opposite of that, whatever that is. 

In YouTube algorithm style, the hymn 'Just as I am' came up on my YouTube given playlist. That hymn is so beautiful. The hymn writer Charlotte Elliot wrote it after a charity bazaar her brother held to raise money to provide education for the daughters of clergymen supported by the church. The night before the bazaar Elliot was kept awake overthinking about her own uselessness - she then went on to question the whole of her spiritual life and wondered whether she'd got it all wrong. The next day she remembered that to God, she was more than that and that his grace, his power, his promise overcame all of that*. 

When it comes down to it, however we are feeling, however true we believe we are being to the calling God has put on our lives - it is just as we are that God calls us to him, and it is just as we are we follow that call. 

And he will help us answer that call in all circumstances. Even now. 

Especially now. 

Just as I am - though toss'd about
With many a conflict, many a doubt
Fightings and fears within, without
- O Lamb of God, I come! 

*from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Just_As_I_Am_(hymn)

Picture from https://images.app.goo.gl/QUreGkT7UupUrdM78