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’!