Suitcase Sojourner

It has been a while since I posted. Sorry about that!

Things have been somewhat hectic with Jane’s induction into Campsie Parish Church, our very prolonged, complicated and difficult move, and my new job as an Interim Minister.

I cannot pretend that the various phases of leaving, farewells, removals and new starts was anything other than extremely stressful! With two separate Manses (more below!) and two adult children who were unsure what they were doing (seem still a bit unsure to me!) it was all very trying indeed.

However, I am very much enjoying my new role as Interim Minister for Central region with the job of helping a congregation through a time of transition often (but not always) after a time of particular challenge or difficulty for them.

My first placement is in rural Perthshire and I am very much enjoying a) the experience of working in the kind of community that I have not previously been involved with and b) getting to know and minister alongside the folks of the congregation.

Of course, there is a lot of adjustment involved in all of this, and I have not found every aspect of that adjustment easy.

And especially challenging has been the difficulty of working out how to live in two places! I have moved in with Jane to her Manse in Campsie (as you would expect!) and count that as home, but I am also living part of the time in the Manse of my placement Parish and trying to make that feel like home from home… and, truth be told, it does.

However, the problems arise from the moving from one to the other. The initial patterns we established are already under review as it has meant a great deal of travelling back and forth. So the week is undergoing a change to allow me to minimise travel and maximise productive work time and quality down time.

We’ll see….

Meanwhile I find myself still living out of a suitcase much of the time. I do have clothes and so forth in both places, but sometimes what I want or need is in the house I am not in, and other times I forget to take the right things from one home to another, or forget to put on a washing or forget where I am on any given day or what I am doing and what implications that may have for what I need by way of clothes… and so on!

But we will get there… I hope!

Meanwhile, that feeling of being a sojourner can have a very positive effect; the journeys back and forth allow me time to engage/disengage and can be very therapeutic; I have still to establish new patterns of spiritual devotion that suit the new lifestyle;, but meantime I am learning much about praying in the car(!); and the words of Jesus, ‘ foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head’ seem to have a resonance, even though in fact I have two places to lay my head (although it takes me a while on any given morning to work out which place I am in!). And certainly the author to the Hebrews had it right when he said ‘here we have no lasting city, but we are looking for the city which is to come’.

soul space - again!

I have posted before about ‘soul space’ the monthly worship event at St Cuthbert’s.

As I explained in that previous post, the aim of ‘soul space’ (which was formerly ‘Sanctuary in the City’ which in turn had evolved from the earlier ‘Reflective Services’) is to provide a place and time for engaging with God, prayer, Scripture, the Holy Spirit, peace etc at your own pace and in your own way, in silence (although there are occasional short spoken reflections and often quiet music playing).

I happen to think that ‘soul space’ is one of the most important things that St Cuthbert’s offers in terms of our worship provision! (and before some folks get offended by that, let me say that I very deeply appreciate our musically and liturgically rich Sunday worship and our important and intimate Healing Services!) But there is something distinctive and significant about ‘soul space’.

But let me be honest; ‘soul space’ is not well attended or supported. There are a few who come from the congregation (including those who are members of the planning team). There is a handful from the places of work around our doors. A few occasionally come from other city centre churches. And we even have one or two who travel from beyond Edinburgh to be with us. But the numbers are small.

It remains a mystery to me why more people do not come, why those who come once and express appreciation of it do not return, why the undoubted enthusiasm of those who attend does not attract more. But that is how it is.

And perhaps that is ok. Perhaps we are simply a mustard seed... a small thing that can have a much bigger effect and influence than the initial size would lead us to expect.

And that is where I am encouraged!

Over the years we have influenced others from throughout Scotland (and beyond!) to use our material or to begin their own alternative/creative /reflective style of worship. Just recently a Christian ministry in London sought our permission to use some of our ‘soul space’ resources and reflections in their own materials and settings. On Wednesday past members from a congregation in Fife came along to ‘soul space’ with a view to considering doing something along similar lines in their own setting.  And in the past we have encouraged congregations elsewhere in Scotland to ‘do their own thing’.

I am encouraged by all of that as well as by the assurance that ‘soul space’ will continue with a marvellous and creative team beyond my leaving. (as indeed its predecessors in St Cuthbert’s were established long before I arrived here).

But I do remain mystified as to why – in our frantic and frazzled world, crying out for places of peace and stillness – so few attend.

[check out http://www.st-cuthberts.net/soulspace.php] 

Transition and Confusion

‘Confusion will be my epitaph’ it says in the track from King Crimson’s 1969 album ‘In the Court of the Crimson King’ (and if you did not know, King Crimson are my favourite band!)

Well, right at the moment were I to have to choose what was to be put on my gravestone, then ‘Confused’ might well be it!

These weeks of change, journeying, new beginnings and sad endings are causing me considerable confusion – not mental confusion, but certainly emotional confusion.

A couple of weeks ago there was the excitement of moving into our new home – Jane’s manse in Lennoxtown. But that is confusing also as I am still staying part of the time in Edinburgh.

The joy of Jane’s induction into the Parish of Campsie last week was tempered by the realisation of how much I still have to do by way of tying up various things at St Cuthbert’s... and the prospect of the leaving, which occasions a great sense of loss.

The excitement of Jane’s new ministry has also left me a bit confused about my role in her new parish. (Yes, there have been all the jokes about being the Minister’s wife and if I can bake scones etc etc!). But there is a serious issue here... one of role and function.

Meanwhile, while I am trying to settle into a new home (in which I am only sometimes staying) and share in Jane’s new life (while still trying to minister and conclude things in St Cuthbert’s) I am also looking ahead to my new role as an Interim Minister and today I head off to a conference for Interim Ministers which brings that new dimension much closer to the forefront of my already confused and conflicted brain!

All this said, I suppose that I know fine well that transition is always emotionally upsetting and challenging. Confusion may be inevitable.

I am reminded of poor confused Nicodemus who seemed to be struggling with Jesus’ night time teaching in John chapter 3. But Jesus said to him ‘The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit’.

So, whatever lies ahead, whatever changes are occurring, whatever transition is being negotiated and whatever confusion I may be feeling, still the wind of the Spirit is blowing. Who knows where it will take me or how I will get there? But all I am called to do is raise the sail and catch the breeze...

Breaking up is hard to do

Neil Sedaka’s famous song with that title (recorded by him in two different versions, 1962 and 1975 if I am correct) was about the end of a relationship – a love affair.

And I suppose that is how I feel about the fact that I have just in the last few days announced to the congregation that I am to be leaving St Cuthbert’s at the end of March. I am taking on the role of one of the Interim Minister team in the Church of Scotland.

I suppose that one result of this is that I may need to change the title of this blog! No more ‘Cuthbert in Edinburgh’!

But whatever adjustments that will need to be made, the biggest thing at the moment is that I have such a deep sense of loss at the prospect of leaving St Cuthbert’s. I love St Cuthbert’s, I love the people and I have loved my (approaching) 8 years there. In fact in some ways it does feel like the end of a love affair, certainly on my part.

One perceptive long-time friend and colleague in ministry, on learning of my news, perceptively wrote ‘what a wrench for you!  I really felt that St. C’s has been a real zenith in your career, kinda what you were born for’.

Indeed. That is how it feels.

But on we must go... me and them.

And if the road to a future of service to God, for me and St C’s, and the road to the future mission that awaits me and St C’s, and the road to new opportunities in the Spirit for me and St C’s lies at first through a time of pain and loss, then that pattern is not a strange one for Christianity. Far from it!

I announced my departure at the Church service on Sunday morning. After I did so I was somewhat distracted and desolate... and then I heard the words of the Old Testament reading being read and suddenly I was very alert to them ‘Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;   I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;   and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. ... Do not fear, for I am with you’ (Isaiah 43).

I was further struck by one of the hymns we sang (I had not chosen Sunday’s praise). It was Carl P Daw’s ‘Mark how the Lamb’. The final part of the second verse reads:

So we, by water and the Spirit 
baptized into Christ’s ministry, 
are often led to paths of service 
through mazes of adversity.

Oh, how true, and how relevant that felt for me on Sunday morning.

Breaking up is hard to do.

A Question of Identity

Last Sunday, my wife Jane preached as sole nominee for the vacant charge of Campsie Parish Church. Thanks to the generosity and kindness of my lovely colleagues in the Ministry Team of St Cuthbert’s (and at their insistence!) I was able to be there.

It was a heart-warming, lovely, affirming and entirely joyous occasion as Jane was voted for unanimously by what seem to be a welcoming, community based and thoroughly delightful congregation.

And there was I… the husband of the minister; the ‘had to be introduced to be known’; the ‘came along too’ person!

Not that I was for one moment complaining. I know that this is the role that Jane has fulfilled (and with considerable grace) since my ordination in 1981. And we had agreed that the time was now long past when roles should be reversed.

I was glad to be there, pleased to share in the joy and delighted to be photographed with Jane as her husband (and that despite the protest of some who may have implied that this may have been demeaning to Jane?!?!) I cannot see that, given that she was the main woman, I was the happy supporter; a loving partner is not a bad thing, is it?

But for me the interesting thing is the complete reversal of roles. For so long Jane has been the ‘Minister’s wife’ (I hated that tag, the implication of it and the expectation that went with it, and was delighted that Jane did not fulfil these expectations). Not surprisingly (but possibly, tellingly!) there are no such expectations of Ministerial husbands (and it will be interesting to learn how same sex partners are being treated in this respect).

But all this said, and all that considered, for me the interesting thing is observing how things have so completely turned around during the course of my (almost) 40 years of Minister.

When I was ordained, Jane had no thought of ordination and no sense of a call to Ministry.  I was the Minister, she was my wife.

On Sunday past, she was the Minister and I was her husband.

I loved it… and yet there was still a sense of slight dislocation. Who was I/am I really?

Well, I know in a fundamental and ontological sense…

…but – in Ministry terms – that is for another post!

soul space

One day, about two years ago, a book was left for me at St Cuthbert’s when I was not present.  The book ‘The Blessing of Life’ was written by an American Presbyterian pastor named Gerrit Dawson. The message left with the book suggested that I check out pages 99 to 101.

I was somewhat puzzled. Not only had I not previously heard of the author, but I wondered why there would be anything of special interest to me in this book.

I turned to page 99 and read of how Gerrit and his daughter were in Edinburgh a couple of years earlier. ‘As we walked to the end of the Princes Street Gardens in the center of Edinburgh we came to St Cuthbert’s Church. Noticing that the church was hosting a time of reflection called “Sanctuary in the City”, we went in. Various stations were set up around the beautiful sanctuary. At each you could interact with the meaning of Christ’s passion and resurrection through prayer, visual art, writing or reading’.  Gerrit went on to describe the profound impact one ‘station’ in particular had on him.

In subsequent correspondence with Gerrit I discovered more of just how important and meaningful that visit to St Cuthbert’s, and the interaction with ‘Sanctuary in the City’, had been. He told me that he had used some of the prayers and texts he found that day in Lenten worship and sermons in his own setting, and he wrote ‘that we both had such an experience of the Lord’s grace together in St Cuthbert’s was a gift beyond hope’.

This was a great encouragement to me and to the team of folks involved in setting up this monthly time.  When Gerrit visited St Cuthbert’s, this time of peace, space and prayer was indeed called ‘Sanctuary in the City’. It is now called ‘soul space’. Its roots are in monthly Reflective Services which had been held in St Cuthbert’s for years before I was called as minister.

The aims of ‘soul space’ (formerly ‘Sanctuary in the City’) are to provide a place and time for engaging with God, prayer, Scripture, the Holy Spirit, peace etc at your own pace and in your own way, in silence (although there are occasional short spoken reflections and often quiet music playing).

We are pleased when regular congregational members come, but even more encouraged when folks from other churches attend and delighted when people passing by, those on a lunch break from local work places, harassed shoppers and so on, drop in and participate for a short time or a longer time.

Usually we do not know how many people may engage with what is offered, still less how and in what way they may benefit from it.

We offer what we offer, hold the space open, and leave the rest up to God.

What I can say is that I believe that in offering a place and space where folks can stop, pause, be quiet and reflect for even a few moments, we are giving people an immeasurable gift. And I know that I gain so very much myself from these moments praying, reflecting, engaging, reading, lighting a candle, silence…

Truth be told, I think I am really quite pleased that in this target driven, goal oriented world where numbers are counted, success measured in some supposedly quantifiable way, and outcomes assessed, we are offering something the effect and benefit of which cannot be readily assessed or measured.

If you want to find out more (or even better, start something in your setting) then see http://www.st-cuthberts.net/soulspace.php or www.facebook.com/cuthbertsoulspace

Autumn Days

As I sit at my desk in my study in the Manse, I look out of the window at a beautiful tree which has been slowly turning colour as autumn progresses. It lifts my spirits every day when I look out on it.

I love autumn and especially these bright, crisp sunny autumn days when the light has a magical quality and the air is clear. When the sun is low in the sky it highlights buildings and hills in stunning ways (and I reckon that Edinburgh is one of the very best places to appreciate this!)

I have very vivid memories from back in the mid 70s of starting the University session in October and these early wonderful days of each new session (just to be clear, I loved my time at University!)

On bright, crisp autumnal mornings I would walk through Kelvingrove Park admiring the colours of the trees, praising God and joyfully anticipating the forthcoming Systematic Theology lecture!

Of course, all that was forty years ago… say it quietly! Forty years…

The other day I rediscovered the Bible which had been presented to me at my licensing in Glasgow Cathedral in 1980, 36 years ago. Extraordinary. Indeed, the day that this bible was rediscovered was the same day on which I attended a conference organised for Ministers to tell us about retirement, pension, Housing and Loan fund etc.

I guess it is now autumn for me too!

I may have to work a little at loving the autumn of life as much as I love the season of the year.

And yet there is something attractively mellow about knowing that one’s most energetic and possibly productive work lies behind;  a quiet satisfaction that – for all the mistakes and failures – there has been a lot of good work done, and it is now time to slow down just a little and adopt different rhythms. Time to shift down a gear.

And that is fine… in theory!

I have not found it quite so easy to accept in practice.

But right now, as I look out at that tree I think I may not be too far away.

As ‘The Preacher / Philosopher’ said ‘For everything there is a season…’ (Ecclesiastes 3: 1).

A Confusing Condition

I am just returning to work after two weeks on leave. Not that we were away (other than a day or two here and there) but it was good to have the break. In the middle of this fortnight there was a family wedding. What a great day it was. A real joy!

I enjoyed reconnecting with family and with friends (some of these friends I have known since childhood, but I see only rarely, and usually at such events).

For various reasons I have been feeling particularly well these last two or three weeks (since my last post here). Indeed, I have enjoyed a consistently better level of health than I have done in the previous two and a half years! There may be several reasons for this, but whatever they are, I believe that God lies behind all of that, so I am grateful indeed to God!

Yet, I made the conscious decision to take a walking stick with me to the wedding. Lately I have used my walking stick only occasionally and when I have it has been an indication that I have not been feeling so steady… in every sense!

Sometimes (not always) my balance is a little compromised; sometimes (not always) my legs feel heavy, tired and sore and to have an additional aid can help; sometimes (not always) stairs can be a challenge and (if a lift is not available or convenient) a stick can assist.

But, none of these things have been true over the last few weeks.

However, even when I am feeling well, I know that standing ‘unpropped’ for long periods of time can be a difficult, draining and debilitating experience. Don’t ask me why standing has such an effect when I can walk or cycle… but that is my reality (when I consult physios regarding this they try to explain it, but it still seems odd to me!).

So, knowing that the early part of wedding receptions can involve long periods of standing, and being aware that this reception was to be in a marquee (and so no walls to prop oneself against!) I took my walking stick. Just as well, as I had to spend a considerable time before the meal standing without the means of leaning on something and with no chairs in sight on which to sit!

And, I was fine. I had my walking stick!

And yet, the number of people who said to me the likes of ‘But, you are looking so well’, or ‘lose the stick!’ and who looked confused and a little askance when I managed (one only!) dance…

Yes, I know it looks confusing, and it appears that I am well and that it seems to make no sense.

It does not make a lot of sense to me either.

And I would do almost anything be well again, not to have this condition, or consider energy depletion, or where the loos are, or what I can manage today because of what tomorrow holds; not to have to think ahead about walking sticks, or if there will likely be walls or chairs or other furniture against which to lean. Or just simply to be able to manage what I once did.

Years ago, when I heard about reports in the newspapers (usually the Daily Mail or Daily Express!) regarding supposed ‘benefits frauds’ who were videoed dancing or whatever when they were claiming benefits for disability I used to agree with the critics and get very annoyed with the ‘cheats’! My annoyance was partly because they were (as I thought) turning public opinion and sympathy against those with genuine need. I am still irritated at those who exploit the system. And yet, now I wonder if it is as simple as it seems.

How could I – a man with a walking stick – also manage a dance? Yet I can… one at least.

And I know the reality that I dearly and deeply wish was not mine. But it is.

I also know what my immediate family witness when I return from conducting a wedding or funeral where unpropped standing is almost a necessity and I am utterly wrecked and unable to function for several hours.

But, then, nobody else sees that.

These last few weeks I have been attending the MS Therapy Centre in Leith where I have had the privilege of meeting with many folks who also have MS.

One of the things that strikes me is how different we all are. Some (like me I guess) appear unaffected to the casual observer while others (possibly most) of my new friends need sticks or wheelchairs.

On some days at the Centre, I have felt like a fake and a fraud. On other days, I have connected with several who – like me – seem outwardly / visibly ‘well’.

This was something on which I had already reflected, as I have two close relatives with MS whose experience is very different from mine (thus far). When they hear that I can cycle, walk the dog etc, they are amazed. And yet, in relation to another family wedding coming up next year in California, one of these relatives will be attending while I have decided I cannot. My symptoms (although less obviously disabling or visible) mean that the flight would be unbearable and the potential ramifications too great. Following our last trip to the States (and that only to the East Coast) and my utterly dreadful experience on the journey back, I doubt that I will be able to again make that trip, far less to the West Coast.

‘But, you look so well’.

Yes, I do. And thankfully I have been very well the last few weeks. I hope it continues and I remain deeply grateful to God.

But judging simply by outward appearances is rarely if ever the best way of approaching another person or situation.

Invisible Disabilities

One day earlier this week, I was on the way into church on the bus. On the journey I found myself standing, as the seats downstairs were mostly taken. Standing can sometimes be a problem for me because of my MS. It is difficult to explain (or even understand… for me too!) but the experience of standing can be debilitating and result in energy depletion, heavy limbs and muscle aches.

Although most of the seats were occupied, there was one seat… one of the ones for those who are elderly or disabled… I kept standing.

Was it pride? Well, perhaps…

But I think it was also because I do not APPEAR ‘disabled’. I did not have a walking stick that day (although I do occasionally use one) nor any other outward indication that I am ’disabled’.

And yet I AM ‘disabled’. In fact, one recent (and rather surprising) discovery has been that the very fact that I have MS categorises me as ‘disabled’ in the provisions of the 2010 Equality Act.  But even forgetting all that, I know that standing for long periods is a problem, energy depletion is a BIG problem, cognitive function can sometimes be a problem and so on and on.

(I will spare you some of the further symptomatic details which restrict but which are not visible)

And, as if that were not enough, I also have a second chronic condition more recently diagnosed and rather more difficult to talk about. Three months ago I was diagnosed with Ulcerative Colitis.

Once again, I will not go into all the gruesome details except to say that there are very real restrictions caused by both my conditions, that they both are causes of fatigue and energy depletion and that neither of them  looks as though they are doing anything other than getting worse!

But, to the outward observer, I seem to be the picture of health!

Which is, of course, why I find it is difficult to choose to sit on these disabled seats on the bus!!

And so back to that morning a few days ago… After the bus journey for which I stood all the way, when I reached St Cuthbert’s we were about to begin our monthly lunchtime Bible Study based on the passages for the next Sunday’ services… and if you have looked ahead, then you will know that the Gospel passage on Sunday is about the daughter of Jairus and the woman who had been bleeding for 12 years. 

We cannot be sure, but I think we may assume, that the woman who touched Jesus’ robes would not have been obviously ‘disabled’. Her condition and its symptoms would likely have been ‘invisible’ to others.

I saw the connection.

But I was not just thinking of myself, but of the many (very many!) friends, family members, congregational members (past and present) and pastoral contacts who have conditions (physical, mental or emotional) that are not outwardly ‘visible’.

Let me be quick to say that those of us who have less visible disabilities often do not face the challenges of those who are more ‘obviously’ disabled. The very invisibility tends to mean (in most cases at least) that we do not face the same physical challenges. And we are not generally subject to such discrimination and prejudices as still exist in our society with regard to the ‘disabled’.

While for many people with MS, the effects of the condition are very evident and visible, for me and others they are not. And there are many others who have disabilities that may not be visible, but are nonetheless debilitating, challenging and awkward to cope with, and which put real (and often permanent) restrictions on life. I am thinking of the likes of dyslexia, inflammatory bowel disease, autism/Aspergers, depression, anxiety, and so very many more…

Both the Church and society have moved far in terms of support, inclusion and attitudes to those who have disabilities. But there is still a distance to travel.

Perhaps one thing we could still try to do is find an alternative description to ‘disability’ (and please not ‘differently abled’!) And another is to work harder at ensuring that being ‘disabled’ does not automatically imply that we are also considered as ‘disqualified’ from certain jobs, positions or roles.

After all, in the ‘West Wing’, President Bartlett seemed to do a pretty decent job in spite of his MS! Just a pity he had to start off hiding it!

Jesus' response to and compassion towards the woman with the bleeding tells us something about how God looks upon those of us who have any condition or disability, visible or invisible, and surely also tells us something about how we should regard them.

But none of all these musings resolve my problem with taking a disabled seat on the bus! Perhaps I should just carry a walking stick as a matter of course…

Who stole my descriptors?

OK everyone.... there are loads of you who will profoundly disagree with me.

That's ok.

But I would ask you to show respect and be considered in you responses... please!

I respect you as brothers and sisters in Christ. I hope you can do the same with me...

At the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland held last month, and following the deliberations and decisions of the Presbyteries of the church, the Kirk took the significant but limited step of affirming the traditional teaching of the church on matters of sexual relationship and marriage, while simultaneously allowing congregations who so decided, to depart from this ‘traditional’ position and (should they so wish) appoint or call Ministers or Deacons in Civil Partnerships (and possibly also in time, Same Sex Marriage).

Leaving aside the substantive issue, and also setting aside any concerns about the consistency or long-term sustainability of this ‘permissive’ or ‘contradictory’ position (depending on your view) I have a deeper concern.

I may be wrong (I may even be slightly paranoid!) but I think over these last few years as both this issue has come to the fore in the church and also my own (accepting and affirming) views have become more widely known, I have been quietly excluded from certain mailing lists, gatherings and meetings.

For example, there is a Church of Scotland Evangelical Network with whose aims I broadly agree and – had it been set up 10 or 15 years ago – I imagine I would have been invited to be involved at an early stage. Membership of the network is open to minsters, elders, members and adherents of the Church of Scotland, so should I join?

Well, I doubt I would be welcome as, according to its website, it was set up due to concern about the issue of Ministers etc in same-sex relationships.

And so, it seems, the mark of being an evangelical is our view on this single issue.

I wish this Network well; it includes many friends and I am hugely encouraged by the commitment of those involved to stay in the Church of Scotland even if they disagree with decisions that have been taken.

But I would still like to know why I am no longer to be described as an evangelical? It seems that it would come down only to my views on this single issue (and if I there are other reasons, I would really like to know!)

It would seem that I am in good company, with the likes of Roy Clements, Rob Bell, Tony Campolo, Brian MacLaren and Steve Chalke.

But who decided that this was the mark of being ‘evangelical’? And why?

I am genuinely puzzled, and (as you will guess) feel a little bereaved.

Recently, one clergy colleague who is gay spoke of the process of ‘coming out’. He went on to say that now he was challenged about another ‘coming out’… as an evangelical!

It may (or may not) surprise some of my evangelical sisters and brothers to know that (in the wake of some of my previous posts and blogs) I have been approached by a number of others who – for the moment- are keeping their heads below the parapets, but who personally take the more inclusive and affirming view that I do, while being afraid of losing their sense of ‘tribal’ identity and (more importantly) their many friends within the evangelical fellowship of the church.

And I reckon that if I were to name them (which of course I never will!) then the shock would be great indeed.

But why is this so?

I wish people would discuss these things before they excluded some of us who share their views on most of the fundamental matters of faith.

And I would quite like to feel free to choose my own descriptors rather than have arbitrary criteria imposed by others as to what constituted fair and proper use of such descriptors.

O for a closer walk with God

As we begin Lent, William Cowper’s hymn ‘O for a closer walk with God’ has been much on my mind. Now I know that Cowper suffered bouts of insanity and periods of depression and some of that depression and doubt are reflected in his hymns, including this one.

Yet I find myself in sympathy with much of what he writes in this hymn.

I do long for a closer walk with God… (but perhaps avoid facing up to those things that hinder it!).

‘Where is the blessedness I knew when first I saw the Lord?’ he asks. And I can echo that.

As time goes on it is to be expected that youthful fervency matures (fades?) whether that be applied to romantic love, political views or spiritual intensity.  I am not sure whether or not it is inevitable but it is certainly common.

But along with moving beyond the over simplistic certainties and callow fervour I wonder if we do not also (too often?) lose something of the core of our faith, ditch committed discipleship and settle for a bland milk-and-water type of Christian following (of the type I once ridiculed in the respectable church-going middle class environment in which I was raised).

Or perhaps what I am really saying is that this is part of my perception of myself and my story.

Part of the journey of this Lent may be to ask searching questions of myself as to why I feel that this has occurred and what I can do about it.

‘The dearest idol I have known,

whate’er that idol be,

 help me to tear it from thy throne,

and worship only thee.’

Hmmm… could I really say/sing that with sincerity?

Gulp!

Living with Limitations

Lent has begun.

Like many Christians I am ‘giving something up’ for Lent. Not because I feel I must, nor because I consider it some absolute devotional requirement, but because I find it helpful and useful as a spiritual discipline.

This ‘little fast’ reminds me of Jesus’ forty days fast in the desert, where he was tempted. That in itself is good reason to pursue this disciple.

But more than that, the idea of ‘giving up something for Lent’ is about forsaking for a season things that speak of this world, this existence, this reality and allowing ourselves therefore to focus on a different world, existence and reality; that of God’s Kingdom.

However, something else has struck me this year; that voluntarily giving something up for Lent sets limits and boundaries. There is nothing intrinsically wrong with (for example) eating chocolate or drinking wine or having a coffee or whatever. Giving something up as a spiritual disciple is simply saying ‘just because I can, does not mean I need to’. Just because I can have a cup of coffee, bar of chocolate, glass of malt whisky etc does not mean I must have one. I need not be driven by my every desire but can choose to refocus my attention and energies and – indeed – desires.

Of course, such limitations are in themselves limited! Most of us tend to only give up relatively small things (although they can feel big!). And it is only for six weeks. What’s more we have voluntarily and freely chosen these limits.

I still struggle to get used to the limitations posed by my health (and these limitations are gradually increasing). But while I can choose to accept or resist these limitations, resistance can only go so far, and I have not chosen the underlying limitations in the first place. Naturally, I would much rather they did not exist!

But this – for me – is the added dimension to choosing a voluntary limitation for Lent. As well as the spiritual value, it also gives me a feeling of being able to choose rather than have limitations imposed upon me by an unwelcome and unlooked for health condition.

There is a lot for me to think about in the Lenten season.

Happy Christmas?

I have been thinking and reflecting a great deal these last few days; thinking a lot about what makes us happy.

You may have already noted from some of my previous postings that I am no great advocate of some of the more superficial or straightforward definitions of happiness, nor of the means by which people seek to pursue such ultimately elusive and transient emotional highs.

But if that all seems too high minded or esoteric then I will quote that great philosopher Sheryl Crowe ‘ If it makes you happy, it can’t be that bad; if it makes you happy, then why the hell are you so sad?’

... 'if it makes you happy why the hell are you so sad?’...

Hmm...

I have to honestly confess that Sheryl’s words (sung or spoken) are occasionally quoted to me by my family. Whatever are they trying to tell me? (Please do not attempt to answer!!)

But over these last few days the whole question of happiness has arisen again. In some part I suppose this is because of that oft-repeated greeting ‘ Happy Christmas’.  What do people mean when they say that to me? What do I mean when I say it to others? What do I/they mean by ‘happy’?

Today I had the undoubted privilege of being involved in the annual ‘Spifox’ Christmas Carol Service and Lunch. http://www.spifox.co.uk/ 

‘Spifox’ stands for the ‘Scottish Property Industry Festival of Christmas’ and the Carol Service is hosted at St Cuthbert’s (and has been for many years). Thereafter the lunch (for around 1400 people!) is held in the Edinburgh International Conference Centre.

In the 21 years since this event began Spifox have (of today) raised over £3 million for charities caring for children and young people in Scotland. Remarkable!

Today as we listened to the representatives of this year’s recipient charities describing their work I was aware of the emotion and the tears. Yet these did not seem to jar with the jollity and laughter. Both seemed to me to reflect a very positive kind of happiness; the happiness of having fun in good company and the happiness of being able to do something for those who need our support and assistance. The tears did not contradict the happiness; they were part of it. The challenge and poignancy of some of the stories we heard did not seem to jar with the fun and celebration but somehow (strangely?) all of it became woven together into one.

That seems not so far removed from another experience of the last few days as I have been reflecting on the death of a gentleman in my congregation, meeting with his family and preparing for the funeral in a couple of days time. Sadness, tears, happy memories and appreciation were all combined in one.

Happiness?

And yet there has been another strand these past few days.

I have struggled with the pain and anxiety of a spouse and family dealing with a loved one who has a progressive degenerative illness. They truly have cause to feel unhappy. As a Minister I can do little more than stand with them, feel with them, pray with them and share and acknowledge the unhappiness.

But alongside all of that I have also had to deal with the all too frequent politics and personality clashes that are part of everyday congregational life.

Actually, were I to be more accurate, then I would say not only congregational life but life in every human organisation or group. Although I have been involved more in congregations than with other groups and have seen some of the pettiness of personality conflicts, politics and posturing in churches, I must honestly say that the worst I have ever encountered were not in church groups but in political parties (I was an active member of one such for some years) Parent Teacher Associations (don’t get me started!) and Community Councils.  

I guess the problem is people.

And here I get back to happiness.

I can understand why the pettiness etc of others can make us unhappy. But why do we (in response) choose to react by way of criticism and cynicism, resentment and ridicule, sarcasm and slight, bitterness and bile?

It makes nothing better, only exacerbates and multiplies the problem and (and this is significant) ends up making us more unhappy than we were to begin with!

Gosh, talk about cutting off our nose to spite our face!

The more aggrieved we become, the less we choose grace and generosity of spirit, the more we convince ourselves that we are the injured party and we are right, the less we show forgiveness and understanding, the worse our own unhappiness becomes!

My observation of recent days is that those who choose to look at the bigger picture with a grace-filled attitude (however much they have been wronged), those who are forgiving and accommodating, those who are understanding and gracious, those who genuinely see the plight of others who really have struggles and difficulties, those who do not regard their own agendas as the only important matter are much more likely to be ‘happy’ people.

While those who continually complain and carp, who are concerned that their rights and privileges have been thwarted, who only have grumps about this or that or the other, who are primarily concerned with pursuing their own agenda, are much more likely to be miserable!

And why on earth would anyone choose misery?

And one final thought regarding this in the church... and bear in mind (as I said above) it is not only the church! 

If our engagement with the church is mainly (or increasingly) in terms of its organisational machinations and we are divorcing ourselves from its worship, fellowship and mission, then we will get an increasingly jaundiced view (which will, of course, make us increasingly unhappy!).

Thank God my engagement with the church is not only ‘organisational’ or ‘political’. It is the worship, fellowship and mission of the church that put these secondary matters into perspective. Distance ourselves from these more important aspects of church life and we will have a warped view indeed.

Choose to focus on pettiness (whether as perceived in others or found in ourselves) and we choose unhappiness.

And why on earth would we choose to that?

An Alternative Advent

If you have read my blogs, are a Facebook friend or listen to me preach then you will know how much I value the season of Advent.

There are very many reasons for this. To be honest, I suspect that part of it is simply linked to my personality. I am the type of person who gets a great deal of pleasure out of anticipation (and remembrance for that matter); sometimes even more than from the actual thing that is being anticipated (or remembered)!

But as I have also often said, there are theological reasons for my appreciation of Advent. Amongst the many is the fact that the Lectionary readings and, indeed, the very theme of the season, make us face up to the fact (and the mystery... even perhaps the frustration!) that we live in the ‘in between’ time - in between the First Advent (the Birth of Jesus) and the Second Advent (his Coming again, and please note that I am neither pressing nor suggesting only one possible interpretation of this awaited event!)

I tend towards the view (it is called ‘inaugurated eschatology’ if you are interested!) that  there are both ‘already’ and ‘not yet’ aspects to the Kingdom of God. In other words, in the birth, life, death and resurrection of Jesus the coming and promised Kingdom of God was ‘inaugurated’ and, indeed, continues to break into the here and now through the presence and activity of the Holy Spirit (so I suppose you might call my view ‘Pentecostal eschatology’??) but yet there remains an ’age to come’ in which the Kingdom of God will be fully established.

Now, as I say, I am not willing to force any particular specific interpretation of the how, the what or the when of this (certainly not!).

But  for me it is a view (best articulated by the theologian Oscar Cullman) that makes sense of the fact that I see and know God’s action and presence in the 'here and now' in so many ways, and yet, there are other realities too. Prayers are answered, but not all; I have seen God work in marvellous ways, but only sometimes; etc etc.

I have not explained this very well, but it is only a short(ish) blog!!

My point is that this is one of the things that I love about Advent. I deeply appreciate the opportunity this season offers for reflection on all of this and the attempted explanation of it in preaching and discussion.

And so it is with a deep sense of bereavement that I find that I will be missing both the First and Second Sundays of Advent.... one because of illness and the other because I will be on holiday... yes, of course I can still join in worship, and being on holiday is not a bad thing (although I think I wish I was feeling healthier to enjoy it!) But I will not have the opportunity to lead worship, offer public prayer or preach until so far through Advent that the pressure will be on to talk about shepherds and angels and (even!) wise men!!

But on further reflection I have realised that the very reason I am missing these (mainly illness) is in itself an illustration of my thoughts about living in this between time, this ‘already’ but ‘not yet’ age.

As people have shown concern for me in my health challenges in these last few weeks, several have said something along the lines of, ‘I pray for you; I so wish God would answer my prayers’.

Well, as you may imagine, I know what they mean!

I have prayed frequently for folks to be healed... and I have seen remarkable answers to these prayers!..... sometimes.

On occasion, I have myself been healed in response to prayer and ministry for things such as a relatively minor twisted knee... but not for this ongoing, debilitating and more serious condition of Multiple Sclerosis.

Hmmm...

And I suppose that this is where I come back to the thought about living in these in between times. It is also at this point that I re-affirm my underlying Calvinism in its affirmation of the sovereignty of God in all things. (What do you know? I seem to be a Calvinist, Pentecostal, non-fundamentalist, anti-literalist, inaugurated eschatologist! That’s me folks!)

And as for Advent reflection? Well, it will not happen (this year at least) so much in worship, but will be in the context of personal prayer and meditation as I reflect on the present health realities I face and speak to and listen to God with regard to these in the light of the promise of his coming Kingdom, and the fact that I believe that kingdom was inaugurated in the birth, life, death and resurrection of Jesus and breaks into this present age in the presence and activity of the Holy Spirit, but a Kingdom whose final and full establishment we await in hope.


And so, what does that all mean for me, now?

Waiting and wondering

As I have shared before via my blog, I have friends and colleagues who have counselled me to share less about my health in public. They have suggested that this is all private stuff and I am making myself too vulnerable etc.

I think they are wrong.

I think this partly because I do not subscribe to the view that Ministers should keep some kind of ‘professional distance’ from the realities of life or guard ourselves from human encounter or the embrace of normal living reality or the admission of human frailty or weakness. I cannot square that view with the honesty of (for example) the Apostle Paul or the outpourings of the Psalmists.

But more than that, I have been touched by the number of people who, on reading my blog or hearing me speak regarding my health challenges, have got in touch with me (many of them strangers) to share their experience, seek a listening ear or express their appreciation of how helpful they have found my sharing.

So, if you do not like my openness and honesty, stop reading now!

When I was first diagnosed with MS, I had been unwell for almost two years and unable to sustain full-time ministry. My energy levels were very low, my cognitive functions were compromised, my muscles were stiff, my balance not great and the other ‘unseen’ symptoms were irritating, limiting and debilitating.

And then (quite suddenly and without warning or apparent reason) things began to improve. In due course, I was called to St Cuthbert’s as Minister and things continued to improve. My health was better than I expected it to become, I was able to function pretty much fully in Ministry, and – aside from the occasional dip or blip – I was able to work well and fulfil my Ministerial and pastoral responsibilities.

But almost two years ago there was a marked dip in my health levels; energy drained, symptoms were exacerbated, mental and physical abilities were compromised. None of this would be outwardly evident to most onlookers. But the difference has been very obvious to me and those closest to me.  

With the exception of the occasional week or two, I have not been able to sustain reasonable health or full ministerial functions since January 2013. More recently I have been put on restricted hours and duties by my doctor. And more recently still other medical issues have arisen which are being investigated and which may or may not be somehow related to MS.

And so I am waiting... waiting to find out what is going on medically, waiting for tests and investigations, waiting to engage in further consultations regarding my future ministry and also waiting in hope (at least a little!) that I may yet regain improved health.

But I am also wondering... wondering if I may have to accept that these health limitations are here to stay, wondering if some big decisions may lie ahead, wondering if there are other things going on in terms of my health and wondering what is best for me, for my family, for St Cuthbert’s....

And, if I am to be honest (and you would not expect anything less!) then I am also worrying a little. What next? What are the implications and consequences of this current situation? How will I know what are the right decisions to take?

Yet, in the midst of all that I do still hear God say ‘Do not be afraid’... and I can lay aside the worries and find something of his peace. ‘The peace that passes all understanding’? Hmmm... I always read that as ‘the peace that makes no sense of circumstances’!

And I guess that’s what it is. My circumstances might seem to rob me of peace, but somehow my faith in God sustains me in an ongoing peace.

If that sounds a bit shallow and trite – a pious platitude – then all I can say is that it is genuinely my experience – as real as is my experience of wondering and worrying.

And if that sounds contradictory, then so be it. It is my reality at the moment!

And somehow faith remains, hope is sustained and peace enfolds me while I wait... and wonder... and worry...

Before and after the referendum

Exodus 14: 19-31

Romans 14: 1-12

St Matthew 18: 21-35

This weekend in our nation of Scotland there are many who are feeling anxious and uncertain. According to the opinion polls there are a surprisingly high percentage of voters who remain undecided on whether to vote Yes or No in Thursday’s referendum. For these folks there is great uncertainty and not a little anxiety as they attempt to weigh up competing claims, conflicting assertions and contradictory evidence.

For those of us who have already made up our minds there is also uncertainty and anxiety. Our uncertainty may not be with regard to how we might vote but rather on what the outcome might be.

Again the opinion polls suggest that the vote on Thursday could go either way. The implications of a vote one way or the other may make us anxious, depending on our own convictions and our own vote.

So whether we are undecided or firmly decided, there is uncertainty ahead and a natural anxiety.

As you may know, on the Scottish Parliamentary Mace are inscribed four words: WISDOM, JUSTICE, COMPASSION, INTEGRITY.

These values do not indicate how we should vote on Thursday, but they perhaps suggest something of the principles that may guide us in our deciding and lead us beyond Thursday into the future, whatever that future may be.

And as Christians there will be additional values and principles that will guide how we come to our decision, Yes or No.

As Christians, the decision we take will not simply be based on short-term economic benefits nor simply on what will be good for us as individuals...

We will be asking questions such as who are our neighbours, in Scotland and beyond Scotland and what is our responsibility to each?

What impact will our decision on Thursday have on the poorest and most vulnerable of our society?

What is the nature of and best expression of inter-dependence in our ever shrinking world?

Is a vote one way or the other going to take us further down the road towards world peace or towards more sustainable environmental policies?

How do we best secure a long-term good, stable, prosperous, peaceful, just and more equal society and for whom are we seeking these things... ourselves? Scotland, these islands, Europe, the world...?

And so on...

Speaking to people over these last few weeks and especially in these last few days, the one thing that is making people of different views feel anxious and uncertain is not the vote on Thursday, but how we face Friday and beyond; how we  - as a nation – move on beyond the vote. How we ensure unity and community however our nation decides.

Beyond Thursday and beyond the choice we each will make we still have bigger challenges ahead for which we must all pull together regardless of our views. And we will do so out of love for one another, love for our society, love for our nation and love for the Kingdom of God and its values and priorities.

The themes of forgiveness, reconciliation, mercy and patience are dominant in today’s Gospel reading, and in our epistle from Paul’s letter to the Romans the apostle is urging his readers not to divide over secondary issues and urges them not to quarrel over different opinions.                                       

It is on this path of unity and reconciliation that we must walk beyond this week and its momentous decision and it is towards such unity and reconciliation that we must work; and as the church, as Christians we have a key role in this.   

There will be some of us who wish  were not at this point, that we were not facing this decision, that we were not being presented with such a stark choice, who feel and fear that a simple Yes / No vote has unnecessarily divided the nation, has demanded of us a polarised decision and has destroyed the opportunity for consensus.

But this is where we are and we cannot change it now. There is no going back and whatever the result on Thursday, we must go forward.

We may perhaps feel like the Israelites fleeing Egypt! We cannot go back, but ahead of us is the Red Sea. How can we go forward from here?

The fearful Red Sea that many people see ahead and which causes them anxiety and uncertainty is not the vote itself but how we find a way forward thereafter. It is not Thursday, but Friday that concerns many. How do we find a way through the division, the possible recriminations, the fact that on Friday morning half the nation will feel relieved or exhilarated while the other half will feel deeply disappointed or despairing.

Will we find a Moses to calm the fears of the people, to call them forward and to carve a path through the turbulent waters?

Well perhaps, just perhaps, this is part of what the church is called to do in coming days. And indeed, the Moderator of the General Assembly, Rt Revd John Chalmers has set the road towards such a role for the church in his emphasis on respectful dialogue and the plans for a national service of reconciliation.

Not that we should overstate the extent or depth of the division in Scotland; aside from some examples of bad temper, inappropriate name-calling, some hotheads on social media and a few thrown eggs, in comparison with similar constitutional debates throughout the world... even in these islands in times past!... this has been a largely positive and civil referendum debate. 

And yet, there can be no denying that there are divisions... but did you see that picture that has been going the rounds this last week on the internet and social media. There are two houses adjoining one another, the one with Yes posters in its windows the other with ‘No Thanks’ in its; and strung between the homes is a banner stating ‘We love our neighbours’! Good!

In the main we are a people well able to overcome such divisions and put them behind us and walk and work towards a good future whatever the result. But this will require good leadership and a willingness of all to seek unity and be reconciled.

When it is all over, a decision will have been made. Half of us will be pleased with that decision and half of us will not be. But some things....MANY things will remain the same.

The church will still face the same challenges and opportunities and we will each still need to pray and work and commit to the future of Christ’s Church in our land and in this place. We will still need to struggle and act and pray for social justice, will still need to reach out in care to the poor and vulnerable, still need to listen to the broken and pray for the sick, still need to open our doors and our hearts to the troubled and the lost, still need to bear witness to Christ in this city and this nation, still need to seek less destructive ways of living with the created world and with one another.

There has been much passion evident in the referendum debate. That is natural and inevitable. But as Christian people let us get just as passionate... indeed even more passionate about the Kingdom of God, mission, prayer, justice and mercy.

 And if we have concerns and anxieties about what lies ahead of us beyond Thursday’s vote then let us, like the Israelites faced with the Red Sea, fall to our knees and cry out to the God who has, time and again, responded to the cries of terrified people, and parted the deep waters of chaos and provided a way through to a promised land of peace and new life. God is the one who hears our cries. God is the one who knows our fears. God is the one knows where the dry path to the Promised Land lies. And God is the one who longs to set our feet on that path and lead us into new life. 

As the church – as God’s people in Scotland let us point the way –and with God’s leading and in his power take our nation forward to and through the troubled waters to find the unity, reconciliation, justice and peace and hope for the future for our nation... a hope that ultimately does not lie in constitutional arrangements however important these may be, but a hope that lies in the Kingdom of God and the Gospel of Christ. And in bearing witness to these and working for these our job as a church on Friday coming will be exactly the same as it was on Friday past.

I don't know

I am afraid to write this, for I am sure that many of my friends (and certainly my family) will want to express amazement and even disbelief that it could be possible that I might even for a moment think or admit that ‘I don’t know’!

‘You are the one who “knows everything”’ they will mockingly say.

Hmmmm....

I suppose I have to admit that I do give that impression. Not terribly proud of that!

However, I think that in the main any claim to knowledge is about ‘general knowledge’; I know a lot of historical facts and about current affairs and certain types of music and so on. I often fantasise about applying to go on Mastermind or even ‘Who Wants to be a Millionaire’. But in the end I settle for winning at ‘Trivial Pursuit’.

Sad really.

But my ‘don’t knows’ are more about ‘why’ and ‘how’ rather than ‘what’.  Ask me what year was the Battle of Bannockburn or what is the name of the Minister of Defence(War) in Churchill’s WW2 Cabinet (and that is a trick question!) or who is President of the European Commission and I can give you an answer. Which may be mildly interesting but – in the final analysis – may not be all that useful.

It is more in group discussions or theological debates or Bible Studies – or still more in difficult and tragic pastoral contexts - when people ask... well what do you (the Minister, the theologically educated one, our ‘resident expert’) think, that I very often find myself saying ‘I don’t know’.

Now, I do say more than just that. But I do not have easy answers to every enquiry. As has been said by others, the more I go on in the Christian walk the more and more sure I am about less and less. (and no, don’t panic, I am not going through any kind of ‘faith crisis’!)

And here’s the thing.... I find that admitting that there are things I don’t know and regarding which I cannot venture an opinion has actually helped many seekers and searchers, doubters and questioners, and those facing difficult real life situations.

So maybe it is good to admit when we truly don’t know... and yet still believe.

Now, if only I could work out what I think about Scottish Independence... but really ‘I don’t know’!

The Rhythm of Life

Ever since I set out on the road of Christian discipleship I have been persuaded that we need to develop lives which follow certain disciplines and have a ‘shape’; we need to have a ‘Rhythm of Life’ (which also happens to be the title of one of David Adams excellent books of Celtic inspired Christian spirituality).

Christians from evangelical, liberal, catholic, charismatic, orthodox and Celtic streams would all broadly agree on this. Patterns of daily prayer and weekly worship and the shape of the Christian Year are all part of the ‘Rhythm of Life’. But there is more; the balance between work and leisure, play and prayer, family/friends and solitude and so on and on.

I am utterly convinced of the value of developing a ‘Rhythm of Life’, totally persuaded that it is essential to our personal and spiritual well being – and yet I am utterly hopeless at it!

Yes – that is a confession of abject failure!

I cannot get the Rhythm right.

Curiously, when it comes to music, I have a very good sense of rhythm. I should have been a drummer (but it was easier to carry a guitar around than a drum kit!). But beyond music, I am no good at it.

Prayer can get squeezed out, the family can suffer, friendships get neglected, domestic chores get put off, I ignore my own recreational needs and so on and on.

I imagine that I am not alone. But I really don’t know for sure.

Are you the same?

How can we fix it?

Do we need each other, perhaps??

(Or have I just embarrassed myself by admitting to an inability to do somethign that everyone else finds comes naturally?!?)

Let me know!

Measured and mature?

I do not think that any of us is ever in a position to judge what reasonable behaviour is or what acceptable or considered viewpoints are. It is all too subjective.

If we agree with someone then we might consider their views to be well thought through, balanced and ‘reasonable’. On the other hand, if we do not agree then...!!

And yet, the obvious fact of our inability to be truly objective does not excuse us from considering our own assertions and convictions (or those of others) in the light of what is mature and measured, ‘reasonable’ (in the common sense of that word) and – especially – in keeping with the kind of attitudes exemplified in Jesus, taught by him and urged upon us in the New Testament Epistles.

In our contemporary situation there are two responses to disagreement that I cannot quite understand. The one is the conviction that the view I hold is the correct one, without a shadow of a doubt and with no room for persuasion or discussion. The other is that if you do not accept my view, agree with me and decide/vote accordingly then I have every good reason to walk away from you/the Church/this congregation/Scotland...

Over recent months I have been most aware of this in three very different contexts:

·         the tradition of worship in the Church of Scotland (yes, I know, who would have imagined that this would have been a controversial issue with colleagues or within congregations... ? but especially with colleagues. I am tempted to quote the Professor in C S Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, ‘Bless me, what do they teach them at these schools?’!)

·         what passes for a debate on the independence issue (and I remain appalled at the poverty of the ‘debate’)

·         the ongoing (never-ending?) debate in the Church of Scotland (and other denominations) with regard to same sex relationships.

On this last point I recall being in a discussion amongst ministerial colleagues on same-sex relationships. One (who was obviously not yet decided on his view) ventured that he hoped that we might all learn to listen to what the Holy Spirit might be saying in this time of uncertainty and debate. The next person to speak said ‘Well, yes, I agree that we need to listen to the Holy Spirit. But we know that the Holy Spirit has already spoken and made God’s view clear...’ (I wonder if this also goes for slavery, polygamy, the role of women in the church, contraception etc etc...??)

But look at any of the three issues and you will find those who are all too ready to ‘throw their toys out of the pram’.

‘If they continue doing (this/that/other) in the services then I am going to go to another church’

‘I they vote “yes” in this referendum then I am going to go and live in England (or alternatively ‘if they vote to leave Europe I will emigrate to France...’)

‘If they affirm and accept the LGBT community and approve same-sex blessing/marriage I will leave the Church of Scotland.’

And I find myself wondering on what biblical, theological or spiritual ground such responses are made. One thing; such responses seem to me to be neither mature nor measured.