What next?

Well, I am tempted to blog yet again on current issues within the church, the ongoing rumblings regarding same sex relationships and the ministry, the pathetic polarisation of the viewpoints, the provocative posts by many of my friends from both sides of the argument,  the presumptuous appropriation of ‘labels’ by so many... and so on.

But right at the moment I am caught between an unwillingness to engage with it all and an anger about some things I have read (revisionist/liberal/progressive – so-called – and traditionalist/evangelical/orthodox – so-called) and I feel nothing I could say would help.

So to my other big concern of the moment... health, or more specifically MY health.

7 years ago (after many years of mysterious symptoms) I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. I have friends and relatives who also have MS, and in the light of what I know and have seen I am very aware that my symptoms are relatively mild and nothing like as disabling as the symptoms of many, many others.

Just today I was speaking with someone who has a close relative with MS. The symptoms of this loved one have severely restricted him throughout most of his adult life, but increasingly so with every year that passes.

But what struck me about the conversation was the level of understanding, sympathy and concern this person was able to show to me, whose symptoms are so much milder and would hardly register at all alongside her loved one.

That she was able to enquire so kindly after me, ask appropriate, insightful, but not intrusive questions, and display such evident care says a lot for her, I think.

Perhaps because she has a loved one who has MS (albeit at a more advanced level than mine) she understands and knows more than most what is going on... and understands that for many people with MS, so many of the symptoms are hidden.

Yesterday another very insightful and caring person (who has many personal challenges of her own) asked me how I was keeping and then went onto say ‘You look well, but I know that may not be the whole story’.

No, indeed.

Today I have become so aware that this is not the whole story, because I have had to cancel some plans and pull out of some meetings because I have felt (amongst other things) very fatigued. Like many folks with MS (and various other neurological conditions) I find that fatigue is almost constant at some level. Usually that is something I can cope with. But occasionally (possibly more frequently now than over the previous 5 years) it recurs with a quite disabling intensity. Those who have not experienced it find it difficult to understand. This is not just feeling ‘tired’, this is not just the inevitable slowing down that comes with the advancing years... this ‘fatigue’ is as if someone has just pulled out the plug connecting you to the energy supply. It is a ‘sick’ feeling, a bit like a cross between how people often feel when they have the flu (but without the respiratory symptoms) and how an unfit person feels after unexpected and intensive physical exertion. But even these descriptions do not do justice to this thing we call ‘fatigue’.

I used to go regularly to the gym when I was well. I know what it feels like to be tired. I know what it feels like to have pushed myself. I know what it feels like to be exhausted because I have expended a lot of energy and so on.

But what I feel today (and so many days) is nothing like that.

I feel ill.

But you would not know it to look at me.

Nor, by looking at me, would you be able to discern the several other hidden symptoms with which I cope on a daily basis (in some cases) or on a recurring basis (in the case of others).

My most recent consultation revealed that some of my symptoms are measurably worse than was previously the case. Nothing drastic, and this is against a background of 5 years or so of much better health and performance than I had expected.

But the news still took the wind from my sails. In part it made me realise that I have to be sensible and remember that I do indeed have MS.... and with all my heart I wish that was not the case.

But also I find myself wondering about the future and wondering ‘What next’?

As I have said (and as I am constantly aware) I am so much better than many – no, MOST - people I know who have MS.

But I still sometimes wonder (and worry) about the future.

How often in the Bible we read the words ‘Do not be afraid’ (or similar). Someone once said that there are 365 instances of these words in Scripture... one for every day of the year! Well, that may be true; I have never counted. And anyway, if I am to be really honest, I am not sure that right at the moment I find this entirely comforting!

Of course, I do believe that God cares, and is there and that he urges us not to worry...

... and I know that I am so much better off than so many...

... and most of the time I find considerable reassurance in knowing (and experiencing) the care of God...

...but there are moments when the reassurances of our faith (which, when offered by some well-meaning but insensitive folks, can sometimes come across as no more than pious platitudes) just don’t seem to really have an effect upon me. 

...and so I hope I may be forgiven for sometimes just wondering... and – yes – worrying...

...what next?

Faithfulness, frustration and fear

We are now in the middle of this General Assembly, I am already exhausted!

I do not usually feel this way at this stage of Assembly. Indeed, through the (all too many) years of my attendance at Assembly I have tended to enjoy it. The break from the normal routine, the cut and thrust of debate and the meeting of many friends have – in the past – been stimulating and enjoyable.

There have been aspects of this Assembly that I have enjoyed and especially the meeting with friends, the coffees and lunches and drinks with different folks and the post Assembly gatherings and so on.

But it has also been very intense. VERY intense!

One question in my mind throughout is that of faithfulness, and what that means. I am called to be faithful as a commissioner, and I have made every effort to be so. In fact I cannot recall a General Assembly when I have been so attentive and engaged.

But there are the deeper issues of faithfulness to the Gospel, faithfulness to one’s ‘conscience’ and faithfulness to one’s sisters and brothers. And in all this there has been a tension.

My frustration has been with attitudes, processes and labels. While my view is that the contentious debate on ministers and same-sex relationships was in the main carried out in a spirit of grace and love yet there have been other undercurrents around in conversations, blogs and facebook postings from both sides of the sexuality debate.

And that is a further frustration. Are there simply two ‘sides’ to this? I do not think so.

What about those who are not yet sure what they think?

Or those who take a ‘traditionalist’ view but do not see this as an issue that should divide us?

Or those who regard themselves as evangelicals in every respect but in terms of this issue of same sex relationships, but who are scared to put their heads above the parapet?

And that is where the fear comes in. I know this to be the case because of the many, many folks who have contacted me in response to previous blogs. But they have done so privately and anonymously. They are (understandably) afraid to publicly declare their views. Thank God for the privacy of the electronic voting system) These are people who are questioning the traditionalist line on this issue but who would not then wish to identify themselves as ‘liberal’ or ‘progressive’ or whatever. They believe that the scriptures are authoritative; they affirm the need for a personal response to Jesus and are committed to proclaiming the faith. These are folks who (like me) gladly affirm the historic faith of the church and who owe their own Christian commitment and engagement to the evangelical witness of faithful folks.

But if they go ‘public’ with their doubts or questions then what? They may lose their sense of belonging and fellowship and allegiance. They may even lose their friends. And as one whose previous comments and declarations have led to receiving some pretty bruising comments, I can sympathise.

And that brings me back to frustration.  

.. and fear...

For I think that the ‘two sides’ approach has done the church a disservice. I am angry that the Theological Commission ‘enshrined’ polarisation. And that brings me back to my fear; that we are unable to really dialogue about our differences in a spirit of openness and mutual respect.

I did not vote for my friend Albert Bogle’s motion, but I think given where he and others are coming from he has displayed great courage in it. Rather than seeing it as fudge, I regard it as a real act of grace, humility and courage.

As I said in a previous blog ‘there will be a time when true courage in revealed in compromise’.

And two final thoughts:

I think Lorna Hood is doing a wonderful job as Moderator in the midst of very difficult Assembly.

And, if the view that I have now moved towards is to be more widely accepted by the large group of the uncertain then I think that there is a very real need for revisionists to present their arguments with a much more rigorous, disciplined, biblical and theological rigor than has thus far been evident. See the comment of URC minister Nick Brindley whose blogs I follow and whose comments are always full of thoughtful reflection.

http://loveswork.wordpress.com/author/nickbrindley/

You may disagree with me. If you do I hope you will say so. But please be gracious in your comments. 

Courage and Conviction

It is generally considered a good thing to have courage and convictions. ‘She is a woman of great conviction’ or ‘He is a most courageous man’ or even ‘He has the courage of his convictions’ which rather neatly ties the two qualities together.

And, in general, I would tend to agree.

In particular, good leaders need both courage and conviction. A political leader lacking in either quality ends up being weak, which is how many of our present political leaders are regarded.

This applies to military leaders too. A good general is one who has courage, but will also need conviction. In the heat of battle there is no time for convening a meeting, discussing the options and delaying a decision until a consensus is reached.

And, of course, conviction and courage are also desirable qualities in church leaders. Ministers need to be women and men of conviction and they also need courage. Decisions are not always easy, nor are they always universally popular! That much is self-evident.

A good minister will sometimes need to express their convictions strongly and have the courage to stick by them, the courage to express them clearly and honestly, the courage to stand firm when opposition and resistance are experienced, and even the courage to put up with threats of leaving the congregation or the actuality of members lifting their lines and going elsewhere. This is never easy and rarely enjoyable, but that is where conviction and courage come into play.

But I wonder if sometimes what some of us ministers imagine is courage and conviction is in fact something rather more self-indulgent and a good deal less commendable. Stubbornness, arrogance, cockiness and rigid unbending certainty can occur too. And we can convince ourselves that we are being people of conviction and courage when in fact we are simply being brash, belligerent or even bullying.

We need courage. We need the courage of our convictions. But we also need the courage to care, the courage to listen, the courage to admit when we got it wrong, and the courage to change our minds. And while we will all value and respect firm convictions honestly held and will wish to stick by our convictions, there will be a time when true courage in revealed in compromise.

Courage brother, courage sister, do not stumble...

...trust in God and do the right.

Why are we so frightened?

These last few weeks I have been thinking a lot about the issues raised by Steve Chalke in his article and comments on faithful gay relationships. http://www.christianitymagazine.co.uk/sexuality/stevechalke.aspx

I admire Steve Chalke and have done for years. He is an engaging speaker, a powerful advocate for the Christian faith, an effective ambassador for social justice, and (in spite of what people have claimed - more anon) a fervent and committed Evangelical. Having twice briefly met him, I also know that he is a very personable  pleasant and genuine guy.

But... he came close to being disowned a few years ago by daring to claim that some interpretations of one theory of the atonement held by some evangelicals may make God appear like a cosmic child abuser...

Well... some evangelicals got into a real lather about that! But this is not the focus of this blog beyond saying that when this controversy was boiling away I was bemused by the reaction of some as I thought what Chalke said was entirely reasonable and eminently sensible and I had thought that for years... and had not for one minute imagined that this meant I risked being 'drummed out of the Brownies'!

But of course now that he has endorsed faithful gay relationships for Christians things have gone nuclear!

Well... hang on a minute here.

Why is this the case?

Why are people so quick to seek to refute his views rather than engage with the argument?

Why are so many 'reasonable and learned' evangelical scholars so swiftly rushing to blog and write 'arguing against' more than 'engaging with' Chalke's views?

Perhaps I am wrong, but it does feel to me like fear, and if I am right I wonder what it is of which we/they are so frightened?

My reason for suspecting fear and for asking the question is not simply based on Chalke's article and the response it has occasioned  but also arises from previous actions such as that of IVP in so quickly withdrawing all publications by Roy Clements after he 'came out' irrespective of the fact that these publications were thoroughly orthodox... even a tad conservative for some evangelicals  But somehow they were regarded as 'tainted' because Clements had come out as gay.

Does that not betray quite a lot?

I say this with some sorrow... for at one level, despite the vilification, bruising and hurts I have endured at the hands of some, I still refuse to let go that particular descriptor; I think I am an evangelical.

Well, that raises more questions such as 'who is to say', 'to whom does this particular 'trademark' belong' and 'who has the right to define me'?

The sad thing is that as I read the various responses to Chalke's statement - even those coming from the most respected and learned of 'evangelicals' -  I do not discern a huge amount of rigour or depth in terms of theological analysis. More than anything else I sense fear. Fear perhaps that the 'tribe' is threatening to fall apart?

When I have posted on this subject in the past, several public comments on the blogs have been unpleasant .. and some private ones have been nasty... some very nasty. Why?

But even more telling have been the several who have privately got in touch saying that they agree with me that there needs to be a forum for those who still self-identify as 'evangelical' but who either want to also identify as 'accepting' or 'affirming' of faithful gay relationships, or who at least want to have an open and considered dialogue.... but (they go on) I cannot say this publicly, I do not what to lose my friends  I don't want to be ostracized by my fellowship etc etc...

So the question... why are we so frightened?

What became of Advent?

I love Christmas. I enjoy the worship  – the re-telling of the Nativity Story and the singing of the carols. I look forward to the festivities, the mulled wine on Christmas Eve and the sparkling wine on Christmas Day, the family around, the food to enjoy and the fire in the grate. Lovely!

When it comes to the Christmas services, while I know that very many folks appreciate the Christmas Eve midnight service, I think I find myself more drawn to the Festival of Lessons and Carols when the familiar carols are sung and the sequence of biblical readings sets the birth of Jesus into the wider context of unfolding salvation history.

But I also adore Advent. I appreciate Advent not simply because it is a time of preparation, anticipation and hope, but because it is a season which dares to tackle some of the more difficult biblical themes such as death, judgement, the Second Coming of Jesus and so forth.

And I hate the way in which Advent has become invaded by Christmas! Why can we not allow Advent to be Advent?

Now lest I be considered a real Scrooge (and I have lately been so accused!) let me say again how much I love Christmas and let me confess to writing this blog in the shadow of a decorated Christmas Tree! But I did get a bit irritated when two weeks ago I received a text from a family member asking when we could exchange family Christmas presents and again last week when Edinburgh launched its Christmas celebrations with fireworks, tree and Santa... before we had even marked St Andrew's Day, far less begun to mark Advent!

Before Advent had begun, Christmas Trees had appeared, I had been approached by Santa outside Fraser's, I heard a brass band playing 'Jingle Bells' and adverts on the television kept insisting that 'It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas'!

Where did Advent go?

Why are some churches already singing carols?

When did we allow Advent to become simply the prelude to and a preview of Christmas?

A former colleague used to hold off choosing any Christmas hymn in worship until after midnight on Christmas Eve (and then - of course - his congregation would go on joyfully singing them right through the Season of the Incarnation). I can sympathise with his viewpoint. After all we would never dream of singing 'Thine be the Glory' on Good Friday, would we?

But – unlike him – I have never been able to sufficiently resist the congregational demands or the external expectations to completely avoid singing a Christmas hymn during Advent (although I do try to avoid congregational carols until the Sunday before Christmas).

Of course missional and pastoral considerations play a part in our decisions. We touch here on a much bigger tension regarding when it is appropriate to respond to culture and the opportunities with which we are presented and when we need to be counter-cultural.

But that will take us down another road.

Back to Advent.

I do not think of myself as a liturgical purist (although I was recently - and unfairly in my view - accused of being a liturgical legalist on this matter!) But if we continue to allow Christmas to so take over Advent that this wonderful season becomes nothing more than preparation, prelude and preview then I have a number of concerns.

Do we also then follow the trend of seeing Christmas Day as a huge climax after which we forget all about the Incarnation and stop singing Christmas hymns rather than regarding Christmas Day as the beginning of the Season of the Incarnation with so much depth to the mystery of the Incarnation to be explored through the weeks after Christmas and Epiphany?

Are we in danger of being moulded by a culture that no longer sees any necessity for or virtue in the discipline of waiting? (I heard the other day of a mother telling her very young daughter that she could not have a Christmas Tree up quite yet; it was not yet time. I suspect that little girl may be learning appropriate values which others could be denied.) People have forgotten how to wait.

Could we be missing many pastoral and missional opportunities of offering an alternative way of approaching Christmas for those (the many?) who despair of the pressure, commercialism, enforced jollity etc that seems to dominate from mid-November? (It is argued by some that the church is at its missional best when it is counter-cultural. I think that may be right.).

But my biggest concern is this. When does the church deal with the big and important themes represented by Advent if Advent itself becomes swamped by Christmas? The issue of waiting and waiting and waiting more for God's promises to be fulfilled and for our prayers to be answered; questions of life and death, light and darkness; the challenges of repentance and judgement... and so on.

At that other great annual Christian festival – Easter -  I have fears that many Sunday worshippers (who may not attend worship through Holy Week and on Good Friday) can move directly from the Hosannas of Palm Sunday to the Hallelujahs of Easter Sunday without having journey to and through Gethsemane and Golgotha.

I suppose that is similar to what I fear most about the Christmasization of Advent.

So, what HAS become of Advent?

Borders, Boundaries and Barriers

A day of prayerful reflection on the beautiful Holy Island of Lindisfarne the other day threw up a number of very significant and interesting observations and thoughts.

Indeed, my reflecting actually began in the car, many miles before crossing the causeway.

A couple of miles north of Berwick, on the Scotland – England border – the flags of both nations fluttered in the strong breeze. It seemed as if the line of the border was being guarded and maintained by the blue and white of Scotland on the one side and the red and white of England on the other. Yet crossing the border did not feel at all momentous or significant, nor did the landscape south of the border appear any different.

But then, perhaps that line is not really the border at all! There are those who think that the River Tweed (which forms the border for so many miles) should continue so to do right up to the sea thus ‘returning’ Berwick upon Tweed to Scotland.

I stopped briefly in Berwick and was struck by the mix of accents I heard some that were clearly Scottish, others which sounded Northumbrian and a few sounding like a mixture of both.

But back at the border, I had also noticed that a third flag was fluttering in the wind… the Northumbrian flag in yellow and red. I was reminded that at one time in history the Anglian kingdom of Northumbria stretched as far north as the shores of the Forth, thus embracing the present Scottish capital of Edinburgh.

So where exactly is the real border? Does it matter? What difference do borders make, and is it a good or a bad difference?

I am not attempting to make any strong political point here. This is not about the constitutional future of the nations of this island regarding which I have (on the one hand) some fairly strong views and (on the other hand) occasional uncertainty!

But that is not my point. It is more a question of why we humans are so keen to make boundaries, borders and barriers in the first place.

Why are we so keen to emphasise borders that are always human constructs, often arbitrary and sometimes dubious?

And what about the church?

Like all of humanity we keep drawing lines and regarding some folks as ‘in’ and others as ‘out’. We seem unable to help ourselves. We are Protestant or Catholic, Presbyterian or Episcopal, Evangelical or Liberal, traditionalist or revisionist, and so on (and too bad for those of us who might regard ourselves as none or all of the above!)

I suspect that like geo-political borders, these ecclesiastical constructs are also to do with the likes of definition, control, fear, defence and tribal identity.

And perhaps that is all very natural, even inevitable.

I am just not sure that it has much to do with Jesus…

Digging Deep

I am (I admit) hopeless at this blogging business! Other things get in the way and I struggle to find the time to blog, even although it only takes a few minutes. It may be poor planning, poor prioritising, poor discipline or all three (and more). Whatever it is, I seem not to blog as often as I would wish.

But this is in some measure the story of my life. The important gets sacrificed on the altar of the urgent. Of course, sometimes things are both urgent and important. One of the visits I made today was to someone who is nearing death. Clearly the visit was both urgent and important. I wish those of us who are minsters and who have the immense privilege of sitting with, praying with and ministering to the dying could adequately communicate to others how deeply moving, sometimes very emotional and yet always strangely uplifting and encouraging such ministry can be. Rightly or wrongly, I think of myself as a more natural preacher than I am pastor. And yet, if I look back at the most significant and meaningful moments in my over 30 years of ministry then almost all of these involve sitting by the bedside of someone who is dying.

What a privilege it is.

But this brings me back to the battle between the important and the urgent. Getting a paper together for the next Kirk Session meeting may be urgent (there is a deadline after all) but is it more important than sitting alongside a dying person, visiting a city centre workplace where there has been a tragic bereavement, having a coffee and chat with a seeker who is wondering about life and faith and meaning and so on and so on?

Prioritising is a daily battle and a daily chore; and I too often get it wrong.

And sometimes it is spiritual practice and discipline that can become perfunctory or formulaic. Spending time in prayer, studying God’s word, devoting oneself to meditation on the wonders of God’s love, drinking deep at the well of God’s grace… all can be squeezed into an ever shorter space because of the perceived demands of ‘work’.

And when that happens, then where are the resources for ministering to those in need?

I was listening to the radio recently and one of our prospective Olympians was being interviewed. She was asked about her own preparation regime. It sounded daunting! And yet she was utterly dedicated to it because she is focussed on the goal.

It brought to mind the words of the Apostle Paul;

‘Athletes exercise self control in all things; they do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable one.’ (I Corinthians 9: 25)

On the radio programme the interviewer asked how she could maintain her focus, sacrifice and discipline. She admitted that it was not always easy, but that she had to ‘dig deep’.

These words struck home.

I (and all of us who seek to minster to others in preaching, pastoral care, leadership, vision) need to learn to ‘dig deep’… not simply into the depths of our own character; dig deep into the infinite resources of God who has poured out upon us the gifts and power of his Holy Spirit.

We have been provided with an infinite resource (as we recall at this season of Pentecost). There’s a lot of digging to be done!