As the year ends, hope rises. Interest from one church situation in particular is becoming more firm, and I am beginning to look forward to being what they call "settled" in a pastorate.
God grant I shall be "settled" this time. It is possible to be most unsettled in a church. One meets those who seem determined to make you as uncomfortable as possible in your work. These are the complex characters and loose cannons who go off bang at unexpected moments, leaving you never knowing where you stand with them.
In some ways, God never means us to be settled in this life. The apostle Paul had to do a complete turnaround once he had met the risen Jesus. The status and advantages Paul once relied on no longer meant anything, because he was now living for Jesus. Jesus Himself declared a blessing on those who hungered and thirsted for righteousness, never content with the world and its injustice.
We are constantly called on to leave our comfort zones. We are reminded that Christmas was cold comfort for Mary and Joseph in the draughty stable. But, along life's bumpy road, may God give us friends in the churches who allow us to settle in among them. Welcoming, caring people like that remind us of the wonderful fellowship of heaven, where there is eternal security and where we will never be unsettled or oppressed.
Friday 24 December 2010
Wednesday 8 December 2010
Perfect love?
"The entrance of love into our hearts means the exit of fear," the daily notes screamed at me this morning, inspired by 1 John 4:18. I am painfully aware that my fears haven't exited, so I wonder whether the love is struggling to get in. This comes home to me whenever I step on ice.
I shy away from any risk of losing my balance. Last Christmas time my feet slid forward suddenly on some black ice and and I fell heavily on the base of my spine. It took weeks for my bones and muscles to readjust themselves. To protect me in this cold snap I bought an invention that slips over the soles and heels of your shoes and contains tiny tungsten spikes that grip the ice. I feel a bit of a fool wearing this because most of the time it is only gripping on tarmac and wearing out.
Of course John is talking about other fears that more directly involve a failure of love. A writer made a list which began with "Suspicion, mistrust, fear of exposure or exploitation ..." It is certainly tempting to over-protect oneself against what others might do or say. Breakdowns in relationships, and even wars, can result. It is also a betrayal of Jesus, because Jesus did not protect Himself against the cross, which was for our benefit.
Even while hope rises that a new pastorate will come my way before long, I feel vulnerable. Will the tender shoots of hope be crushed at the last minute? You scrutinise every word, every slightest signal, and fear that others are doing the same in regard to you. Christian love does not come easy when the desired outcome is not yet in the bag. In the meantime, however, there are many opportunities to show care and concern, even at some risk. Each opportunity taken gives you the confidence that, however imperfectly, you can still show a love that warms God's heart.
I shy away from any risk of losing my balance. Last Christmas time my feet slid forward suddenly on some black ice and and I fell heavily on the base of my spine. It took weeks for my bones and muscles to readjust themselves. To protect me in this cold snap I bought an invention that slips over the soles and heels of your shoes and contains tiny tungsten spikes that grip the ice. I feel a bit of a fool wearing this because most of the time it is only gripping on tarmac and wearing out.
Of course John is talking about other fears that more directly involve a failure of love. A writer made a list which began with "Suspicion, mistrust, fear of exposure or exploitation ..." It is certainly tempting to over-protect oneself against what others might do or say. Breakdowns in relationships, and even wars, can result. It is also a betrayal of Jesus, because Jesus did not protect Himself against the cross, which was for our benefit.
Even while hope rises that a new pastorate will come my way before long, I feel vulnerable. Will the tender shoots of hope be crushed at the last minute? You scrutinise every word, every slightest signal, and fear that others are doing the same in regard to you. Christian love does not come easy when the desired outcome is not yet in the bag. In the meantime, however, there are many opportunities to show care and concern, even at some risk. Each opportunity taken gives you the confidence that, however imperfectly, you can still show a love that warms God's heart.
Sunday 21 November 2010
Hospitality
One of the joys of my current situation is to find myself on the receiving end of hospitality of various kinds. I am thankful to God for the kindly Christian family on the island of Guernsey who graciously let me stay with them for a week at a time. Being in their company and roaming free round the island recently has given me one of my most relaxing and enjoyable holidays ever. Then there are the guest house owners who make hospitality their livelihood, and consciously maintain professional standards while still seeking to offer a family atmosphere.
The people I am lodging with take hospitality to a new level, the relatively long-term. That is a gift of a special order: they have kindly made me part of their household, a privileged if at times delicate position. In all these situations I study to be an appreciative and co-operative guest. It is a great pleasure when a host comments, "You're no trouble to look after!"
Hospitality is great to receive and a joy to give too. Whoever is hospitable is following a scripture command: "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares" (Hebrews 13:2, ESV). A wealthy woman once provided food for the prophet Elisha and then persuaded her husband to supply something more substantial, a furnished room with "a bed, a table, a chair and a lamp" (2 Kings 4:10).
The guest we should seek most to welcome is the Lord Jesus Christ, who knocks on the door of the human heart asking to come in. "Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me" (Revelation 3:20). Are your heart and mine available, clean and kitted out with proper furniture to welcome the Master?
An old hymn, "On Jordan's bank the Baptist's cry", has a verse which goes:
Then cleansed be every breast from sin;
make straight the way for God within;
prepare we in our hearts a home
where such a mighty Guest may come.
The people I am lodging with take hospitality to a new level, the relatively long-term. That is a gift of a special order: they have kindly made me part of their household, a privileged if at times delicate position. In all these situations I study to be an appreciative and co-operative guest. It is a great pleasure when a host comments, "You're no trouble to look after!"
Hospitality is great to receive and a joy to give too. Whoever is hospitable is following a scripture command: "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares" (Hebrews 13:2, ESV). A wealthy woman once provided food for the prophet Elisha and then persuaded her husband to supply something more substantial, a furnished room with "a bed, a table, a chair and a lamp" (2 Kings 4:10).
The guest we should seek most to welcome is the Lord Jesus Christ, who knocks on the door of the human heart asking to come in. "Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me" (Revelation 3:20). Are your heart and mine available, clean and kitted out with proper furniture to welcome the Master?
An old hymn, "On Jordan's bank the Baptist's cry", has a verse which goes:
Then cleansed be every breast from sin;
make straight the way for God within;
prepare we in our hearts a home
where such a mighty Guest may come.
Sunday 7 November 2010
Autumn
Let it never be said that I am so absorbed in the hunt for a pastorate that I have no time to stand and stare. This autumn has, for whatever reason, clothed our trees in particularly brilliant colours. I've been enjoying it hugely. Last week I spent a few days in Llandudno, North Wales, and made a beeline for my favourite spot in that area, Bodnant Gardens. The sights that greeted me there were breathtaking: the intense red of the leaves of the acer trees; the bright yellow of some of the other foliage; the hydrangea flowers which had not yet turned pale and whose intense blue contrasted pleasingly with these other colours.
Some folk tell me they don't like autumn because it reminds them of the end of life. The old leaves surviving from the summer become brittle, ready to fall from the trees once a stiff wind blows. How like human frailty, the downhearted ones imagine! Yet I am encouraged and moved when I meet people in the twilight of life who seem constantly rejuvenated and refreshed in spirit. Something in us may die, yet we live:
"... genuine, yet regarded as impostors; known, yet regarded as unknown; dying, and yet we live on; beaten, and yet not killed; sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything" (2 Corinthians 6:8-10, NIV).
No doubt in days of economic hardship many my age are contemplating a premature end to their working lives. Old landmarks and life patterns are being swept away. At times the alarm and anxiety this generates affects even me. Yet the one who accepts Jesus as Saviour knows mercies which are new every morning. I am glad God has given me many opportunities to preach and share in this waiting time. I can use them to share the truth that He allows His children to blossom where they might have been expected to fade. Autumn colour is not deceptive; it really is a time for hope.
Some folk tell me they don't like autumn because it reminds them of the end of life. The old leaves surviving from the summer become brittle, ready to fall from the trees once a stiff wind blows. How like human frailty, the downhearted ones imagine! Yet I am encouraged and moved when I meet people in the twilight of life who seem constantly rejuvenated and refreshed in spirit. Something in us may die, yet we live:
"... genuine, yet regarded as impostors; known, yet regarded as unknown; dying, and yet we live on; beaten, and yet not killed; sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything" (2 Corinthians 6:8-10, NIV).
No doubt in days of economic hardship many my age are contemplating a premature end to their working lives. Old landmarks and life patterns are being swept away. At times the alarm and anxiety this generates affects even me. Yet the one who accepts Jesus as Saviour knows mercies which are new every morning. I am glad God has given me many opportunities to preach and share in this waiting time. I can use them to share the truth that He allows His children to blossom where they might have been expected to fade. Autumn colour is not deceptive; it really is a time for hope.
Thursday 28 October 2010
Choices
We love to be able to choose between different options. In such situations you can pick one or more from a number of alternatives. It offers a wonderful feeling of being in control.
There comes a time when the power to choose is snatched from us. I think of frail elderly people who once had the power of making decisions for not only themselves but maybe hundreds or even thousands of other folk besides. Now they are dependent. If your carer has compelling reasons why you would be better off being moved from the chair to the bed, you have little choice but to go along with it.
Most of Jesus' first followers lost the power to choose what would happen to them in the end. In John 21:18-19 Jesus gives Peter the disquieting message, "I tell you the truth, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go."
Then we read, "Jesus said this to indicate the kind of death by which Peter would glorify God. Then he said to him, 'Follow me!'"
For years I have had to accept particular work situations because there was no other option. This time I prayed that the Lord would give me a choice because it would be good, for once, to say to Him, "Lord, there are several options this time. Give me the discernment to choose the right one". Maybe - whisper it softly - this prayer has been answered in the affirmative. This would be welcome but it can also be quite scary! Lord, give me choice, but far be it from me to demand to be in control.
There comes a time when the power to choose is snatched from us. I think of frail elderly people who once had the power of making decisions for not only themselves but maybe hundreds or even thousands of other folk besides. Now they are dependent. If your carer has compelling reasons why you would be better off being moved from the chair to the bed, you have little choice but to go along with it.
Most of Jesus' first followers lost the power to choose what would happen to them in the end. In John 21:18-19 Jesus gives Peter the disquieting message, "I tell you the truth, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go."
Then we read, "Jesus said this to indicate the kind of death by which Peter would glorify God. Then he said to him, 'Follow me!'"
For years I have had to accept particular work situations because there was no other option. This time I prayed that the Lord would give me a choice because it would be good, for once, to say to Him, "Lord, there are several options this time. Give me the discernment to choose the right one". Maybe - whisper it softly - this prayer has been answered in the affirmative. This would be welcome but it can also be quite scary! Lord, give me choice, but far be it from me to demand to be in control.
Sunday 10 October 2010
Ambition
The discussion at a recent Bible study turned to ambition. The disciples in Mark 9:34 were arguing about who was the greatest. Jesus replied that the first must be last.
Ambition in the ministry is usually connected with the numbers game. I remember hearing of ministers who were known for asking for "a significant appointment" - one in a large and lively church which was easy to make larger. Such men are eager to get on, and don't want to find themselves in a dead-end situation where they can't be seen to make progress.
One of the most frustrating questions from prospective churches is, "How big was the congregation in your last church?" If I reply, "Quite small", that goes against me. But if my last church had been big and doing well, why would I be looking for a new pastorate anyway?
True, the early church rejoiced mightily in growing numbers. Luke, the writer of the book of Acts, is pleased to announce that 3000 were added to the church in one day (Acts 2:41). I believe that is not boasting nor propaganda. It is simply joy that 3000 new people were acknowledging Jesus Christ as Lord - which is what He deserves to receive from every human being on earth.
Most of us will never duplicate the results of that glorious day, but we still need some ambition to drive us. I am ambitious to be where I can serve the Lord Jesus who loved me and gave Himself for me; I am ambitious to keep the faith, to raise up more servants and to finish my course well.
Ambition in the ministry is usually connected with the numbers game. I remember hearing of ministers who were known for asking for "a significant appointment" - one in a large and lively church which was easy to make larger. Such men are eager to get on, and don't want to find themselves in a dead-end situation where they can't be seen to make progress.
One of the most frustrating questions from prospective churches is, "How big was the congregation in your last church?" If I reply, "Quite small", that goes against me. But if my last church had been big and doing well, why would I be looking for a new pastorate anyway?
True, the early church rejoiced mightily in growing numbers. Luke, the writer of the book of Acts, is pleased to announce that 3000 were added to the church in one day (Acts 2:41). I believe that is not boasting nor propaganda. It is simply joy that 3000 new people were acknowledging Jesus Christ as Lord - which is what He deserves to receive from every human being on earth.
Most of us will never duplicate the results of that glorious day, but we still need some ambition to drive us. I am ambitious to be where I can serve the Lord Jesus who loved me and gave Himself for me; I am ambitious to keep the faith, to raise up more servants and to finish my course well.
Thursday 30 September 2010
The call
Much pious stuff is talked about the process among Evangelicals whereby they "call" a new pastor. In this process potential new pastors are identified, approved and appointed to posts. One piece of imagery is that of a "courtship" leading to a "marriage".
But the Bible says that "the labourer is worthy of his wages" (1 Timothy 5:18). I suppose a jaded spouse in a marriage might moan in a low moment that marriage is hard labour, and that the other party isn't giving them enough spending money, but all told it sounds a funny motto for a marriage to me. Of course it isn't a marriage. If it was one, I would have got through five of them by now, since I have had five pastorates. Future brides, look out!
No, a church takes on and supports a man to concentrate on the work, if possible full time. He will exercise his God-given calling and gifts to further the church's spiritual life. Notice that he will not have a monopoly on the gifts. Otherwise the church would not be a body, with every member being part of the body and contributing to its life. Actually, I have made a discovery that has radically reshaped my thinking on this issue. I look in vain in the New Testament for an instance of one pastor per church. Instead I see a plurality of elders in the churches, working under God as a team. It never ceases to amaze me that the Lord Jesus, who was supremely able to do everything Himself, chose teams to work alongside Him!
In practice effective, godly eldership teams of one mind and heart are not always easy to achieve. God grant that in my next church it will be a glorious possibility.
I count it a sign of the calling God has given me that I haven't reached a point where I want to call it a day. Morale and adrenalin rise whenever I hear of a possible new pastorate on the horizon. Such was the case a few days ago when I was offered an introduction to two churches seeking a minister. The trail is warm again, and my appetite for the work is as strong as ever!
But the Bible says that "the labourer is worthy of his wages" (1 Timothy 5:18). I suppose a jaded spouse in a marriage might moan in a low moment that marriage is hard labour, and that the other party isn't giving them enough spending money, but all told it sounds a funny motto for a marriage to me. Of course it isn't a marriage. If it was one, I would have got through five of them by now, since I have had five pastorates. Future brides, look out!
No, a church takes on and supports a man to concentrate on the work, if possible full time. He will exercise his God-given calling and gifts to further the church's spiritual life. Notice that he will not have a monopoly on the gifts. Otherwise the church would not be a body, with every member being part of the body and contributing to its life. Actually, I have made a discovery that has radically reshaped my thinking on this issue. I look in vain in the New Testament for an instance of one pastor per church. Instead I see a plurality of elders in the churches, working under God as a team. It never ceases to amaze me that the Lord Jesus, who was supremely able to do everything Himself, chose teams to work alongside Him!
In practice effective, godly eldership teams of one mind and heart are not always easy to achieve. God grant that in my next church it will be a glorious possibility.
I count it a sign of the calling God has given me that I haven't reached a point where I want to call it a day. Morale and adrenalin rise whenever I hear of a possible new pastorate on the horizon. Such was the case a few days ago when I was offered an introduction to two churches seeking a minister. The trail is warm again, and my appetite for the work is as strong as ever!
Saturday 18 September 2010
Laid aside
Called - but laid aside from fulfilling my calling.
Sometimes the tension between waiting quietly for the Lord and following the maxim "God helps those who help themselves" comes into sharp focus. Looking for a pastorate is one of those times.
The instinct to follow my calling is very strong because the call was overwhelming in the first place. It came when I was a student of modern languages, 20 or 21 years old. I was in Le Havre in France as an English Assistant. This was not a very demanding job. You were expected to spend most of your time mixing with French people and improving your language skills. One day a French teacher colleague, a practising Catholic, invited me to his home for a meal. We talked in the way the French do - deep conversation rather than small talk. The topic must have turned to religion at some point, though I can remember nothing about that. All I can remember was the teacher suddenly asking, "Why don't you become a pastor in your church?" It was like a revelation; like scales falling off my eyes. Where before I had seen pastors as weaklings, now I could see the challenge of the work and that it would take up my life's energies. I have never looked back.
Without a pastorate I feel like a fish out of water. But how hard should I try to jump back in? The churches scream, "You will wait for us; our timing is the Lord's timing." My instinct whispers insistently, "Leave no stone unturned; it's no good expecting pastorates to drop into your lap." How to reconcile the two voices is beyond me. All I can say is that invitations to preach are coming in from various local churches. I welcome them, and offer myself to the Lord as a resource for the churches during this time of waiting. Look for what's to come, but don't turn away what's already here.
Sometimes the tension between waiting quietly for the Lord and following the maxim "God helps those who help themselves" comes into sharp focus. Looking for a pastorate is one of those times.
The instinct to follow my calling is very strong because the call was overwhelming in the first place. It came when I was a student of modern languages, 20 or 21 years old. I was in Le Havre in France as an English Assistant. This was not a very demanding job. You were expected to spend most of your time mixing with French people and improving your language skills. One day a French teacher colleague, a practising Catholic, invited me to his home for a meal. We talked in the way the French do - deep conversation rather than small talk. The topic must have turned to religion at some point, though I can remember nothing about that. All I can remember was the teacher suddenly asking, "Why don't you become a pastor in your church?" It was like a revelation; like scales falling off my eyes. Where before I had seen pastors as weaklings, now I could see the challenge of the work and that it would take up my life's energies. I have never looked back.
Without a pastorate I feel like a fish out of water. But how hard should I try to jump back in? The churches scream, "You will wait for us; our timing is the Lord's timing." My instinct whispers insistently, "Leave no stone unturned; it's no good expecting pastorates to drop into your lap." How to reconcile the two voices is beyond me. All I can say is that invitations to preach are coming in from various local churches. I welcome them, and offer myself to the Lord as a resource for the churches during this time of waiting. Look for what's to come, but don't turn away what's already here.
Wednesday 8 September 2010
Clutter and basics
"Shame our wanton selfish gladness,
Rich in things and poor in soul"
- Harry E. Fosdick, 1930
There's nothing like a house move to remind you - forcefully - of how much clutter you gather over the years. Kind friends helped me move last Tuesday. Most of my belongings went into storage with a farmer friend who generously allotted space in a barn. The rest - still too much - came with me into lodgings.
It was in sharp contrast with what Gandhi left behind when he died: a pair of spectacles, his loincloth and ... was there a third thing? Precious little else, anyway. How easy it is to be rich in things, and to be poor in soul at the same time!
One suspects that Christians and churches are very self-indulgent in the West, fretting about issues which are vanishingly small if you are at the rock face of persecution or deprivation. It is highly likely that I shall come out of this period of transition with a different perspective than the one I had when I started.
Meanwhile I just appreciate the kindness I have been receiving, kindness well above and beyond my basic needs. It is as though God is saying, "You may be in a position to live off reserves for a while, but I shall still keep giving you reminders that I am with you and equipping you for new service".
Last Sunday was a busy and positive one, spent at a church in Malvern where I preached twice and also took a rest home service. John Wesley begged the Lord that he would never live to be useless. He was contending for the faith up to a few days before his death and so, I hope, shall I be.
Rich in things and poor in soul"
- Harry E. Fosdick, 1930
There's nothing like a house move to remind you - forcefully - of how much clutter you gather over the years. Kind friends helped me move last Tuesday. Most of my belongings went into storage with a farmer friend who generously allotted space in a barn. The rest - still too much - came with me into lodgings.
It was in sharp contrast with what Gandhi left behind when he died: a pair of spectacles, his loincloth and ... was there a third thing? Precious little else, anyway. How easy it is to be rich in things, and to be poor in soul at the same time!
One suspects that Christians and churches are very self-indulgent in the West, fretting about issues which are vanishingly small if you are at the rock face of persecution or deprivation. It is highly likely that I shall come out of this period of transition with a different perspective than the one I had when I started.
Meanwhile I just appreciate the kindness I have been receiving, kindness well above and beyond my basic needs. It is as though God is saying, "You may be in a position to live off reserves for a while, but I shall still keep giving you reminders that I am with you and equipping you for new service".
Last Sunday was a busy and positive one, spent at a church in Malvern where I preached twice and also took a rest home service. John Wesley begged the Lord that he would never live to be useless. He was contending for the faith up to a few days before his death and so, I hope, shall I be.
Saturday 21 August 2010
Living out of a suitcase
At the moment I'm living out of a suitcase. Hence no entry in this blog last weekend. I hope you're patiently sticking with me.
As a student, I was used to this sort of existence. However, you expect to be more settled after student days. Even if you experience a number of house moves, you hope and expect that certain things will remain familiar: your family, your network of friends, your profession, places that you call "home" wherever you happen to live at the time.
Whether this is God's intention for the human race is not so clear. He never allowed His people Israel to forget that they were once nomadic tent-dwellers, depending on Him to guide their every move. Jesus claimed that while foxes had holes and the birds of the air had nests, He had nowhere to lay His head.
Right now I feel as though I have well and truly joined the club. I am house-sitting for someone, which is great as it helps me avoid living next to a church whose pastorate I have left. Seventy miles away, my worldly goods fill endless mounds of storage bins. I have yet to move out of the Manse but it is clearly no longer home.
I've struggled to relax so far, because my mind is in self-preservation mode and working overtime. However, I calmed myself this evening by playing a very old hymn, "God be in my head". God is in every part of me, right now, and I must live life positively for Him. At the same time, the hymn comes from an age when journey's end, eternal life in the next world, loomed so much larger for people than it does today. From the ancient words I take quiet satisfaction that, when my day is done, God will be there still:
God be at mine end
and at my departing.
As a student, I was used to this sort of existence. However, you expect to be more settled after student days. Even if you experience a number of house moves, you hope and expect that certain things will remain familiar: your family, your network of friends, your profession, places that you call "home" wherever you happen to live at the time.
Whether this is God's intention for the human race is not so clear. He never allowed His people Israel to forget that they were once nomadic tent-dwellers, depending on Him to guide their every move. Jesus claimed that while foxes had holes and the birds of the air had nests, He had nowhere to lay His head.
Right now I feel as though I have well and truly joined the club. I am house-sitting for someone, which is great as it helps me avoid living next to a church whose pastorate I have left. Seventy miles away, my worldly goods fill endless mounds of storage bins. I have yet to move out of the Manse but it is clearly no longer home.
I've struggled to relax so far, because my mind is in self-preservation mode and working overtime. However, I calmed myself this evening by playing a very old hymn, "God be in my head". God is in every part of me, right now, and I must live life positively for Him. At the same time, the hymn comes from an age when journey's end, eternal life in the next world, loomed so much larger for people than it does today. From the ancient words I take quiet satisfaction that, when my day is done, God will be there still:
God be at mine end
and at my departing.
Sunday 8 August 2010
The leaving do
I've just been to my leaving do and survived.
To get leaving events right (assuming you are allowed a say in it) is a matter of experience and judgement. I had one once where there was a big garden party on the Saturday afternoon. The trouble was, everyone put the maximum effort in to make it work, and the two services on the Sunday had a terrible air of anticlimax as a result. Given that it was Pentecost Sunday, that was unfortunate in the extreme.
This time we did things differently. Everything was concentrated into one day. There was a service in the morning and a tea in the afternoon followed by a short act of worship. The mix worked. I had liberty of the Spirit in preaching and the day had a positive atmosphere.
And now? After a short spell of annual leave, I move into the position of being in between churches. That's my euphemism for pastoral unemployment. An unemployed actor is "resting"; an unemployed pastor is "in between churches". May that interval be short. At the same time, God in His wisdom will surely not supply a new pastorate until I am again ready to cope with one.
To get leaving events right (assuming you are allowed a say in it) is a matter of experience and judgement. I had one once where there was a big garden party on the Saturday afternoon. The trouble was, everyone put the maximum effort in to make it work, and the two services on the Sunday had a terrible air of anticlimax as a result. Given that it was Pentecost Sunday, that was unfortunate in the extreme.
This time we did things differently. Everything was concentrated into one day. There was a service in the morning and a tea in the afternoon followed by a short act of worship. The mix worked. I had liberty of the Spirit in preaching and the day had a positive atmosphere.
And now? After a short spell of annual leave, I move into the position of being in between churches. That's my euphemism for pastoral unemployment. An unemployed actor is "resting"; an unemployed pastor is "in between churches". May that interval be short. At the same time, God in His wisdom will surely not supply a new pastorate until I am again ready to cope with one.
Sunday 1 August 2010
Asking for help
It's a spiritual leap forward when you have to go to complete strangers and ask for help. It's another spiritual leap forward when help arrives without you even having to ask for it.
Until my Dad died in 1983 I used to think of myself as normally "muddling through". I lived on my own but felt quite self-sufficient. When Dad passed away I had to travel 250 miles to where Mum was and sort out matters that were completely outside my experience. I had no choice but to turn to strangers whom my parents' friends had recommended and plead, "We are bereaved and I need your expertise quickly. Can you help?" It was a great feeling when willing and timely help arrived.
This is a powerful symbol of God's free grace. Even the most capable of us is helpless to reach heaven, but Jesus helped me when a stranger.
It is even more humbling when the help comes without you even asking for it. As I enter my last month as minister at my current church, a difficult house move looms as well as unemployment. Yet many friendly offers have come in unbidden to make that move look manageable now. I see God's hand in it and am hugely thankful.
I am not normally a Prayer Book man, but the prayer for wisdom comes to mind: "Almighty God, the fountain of all wisdom, who knowest our necessities before we ask, and our ignorance in asking …" I feel embarrassed but enormously thankful when God gives me answers to prayers which I have never even prayed.
My last Sunday at the church is a week away. I face the ordeal with a growing sense that God's grace is preparing me for something worthwhile beyond that.
Until my Dad died in 1983 I used to think of myself as normally "muddling through". I lived on my own but felt quite self-sufficient. When Dad passed away I had to travel 250 miles to where Mum was and sort out matters that were completely outside my experience. I had no choice but to turn to strangers whom my parents' friends had recommended and plead, "We are bereaved and I need your expertise quickly. Can you help?" It was a great feeling when willing and timely help arrived.
This is a powerful symbol of God's free grace. Even the most capable of us is helpless to reach heaven, but Jesus helped me when a stranger.
It is even more humbling when the help comes without you even asking for it. As I enter my last month as minister at my current church, a difficult house move looms as well as unemployment. Yet many friendly offers have come in unbidden to make that move look manageable now. I see God's hand in it and am hugely thankful.
I am not normally a Prayer Book man, but the prayer for wisdom comes to mind: "Almighty God, the fountain of all wisdom, who knowest our necessities before we ask, and our ignorance in asking …" I feel embarrassed but enormously thankful when God gives me answers to prayers which I have never even prayed.
My last Sunday at the church is a week away. I face the ordeal with a growing sense that God's grace is preparing me for something worthwhile beyond that.
Monday 26 July 2010
Waiting
One day I pondered what a big part waiting plays in our lives. In industry there is endless "down time" while machines are standing idle awaiting repair, or deliveries of raw materials are awaited. I think of security service personnel waiting long hours, perhaps in bad weather, for a suspect to show up. Waiting is part of the job; it's what you are paid for.
Some amateur enthusiasts willingly wait as part of their hobby. There is the nature photographer waiting endlessly for the perfect shot of an alighting bird, or the metal detectorist spending years hoping to stumble across a priceless hoard of buried treasure in a field.
Both these sorts of waiting have an obvious point to them. Someone who wishes to serve God awaits His timing. You have a call to serve, and you wait for God to confirm that call when a church or an organisation invites you to serve among them.
Humanly speaking it is frustrating when the waiting is long. It can feel pointless. But, as I keep reminding myself, it should also be seen as a positive experience. As I wait, I learn to depend upon God and view each day as an opportunity to prepare for service.
Signs of God's grace keep coming, brightening the waiting time. But I remain human, and the author of the book of Proverbs was writing to human beings when he penned the words, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick" (Proverbs 3:12). May the signs soon turn into the fulness.
Some amateur enthusiasts willingly wait as part of their hobby. There is the nature photographer waiting endlessly for the perfect shot of an alighting bird, or the metal detectorist spending years hoping to stumble across a priceless hoard of buried treasure in a field.
Both these sorts of waiting have an obvious point to them. Someone who wishes to serve God awaits His timing. You have a call to serve, and you wait for God to confirm that call when a church or an organisation invites you to serve among them.
Humanly speaking it is frustrating when the waiting is long. It can feel pointless. But, as I keep reminding myself, it should also be seen as a positive experience. As I wait, I learn to depend upon God and view each day as an opportunity to prepare for service.
Signs of God's grace keep coming, brightening the waiting time. But I remain human, and the author of the book of Proverbs was writing to human beings when he penned the words, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick" (Proverbs 3:12). May the signs soon turn into the fulness.
Sunday 18 July 2010
Blogging - my new venture
Hi! Welcome to my new venture, blogging, and to my first post ever. It is Sunday 18 July and in just over 6 weeks time everything goes pear-shaped. In the present economic climate I should be extremely scared but in fact my emotions are on hold. Either that or God is giving me grace to rise above them.
What is causing this drama that doesn't feel like a drama? My present church pastorate, in Worcester UK, is coming to an end after 4 and a half years. Communications have broken down, the decision to leave has been taken, a slightly unreal air of relative normality prevails, and preparations for my last Sunday on active duty, 8 August, are being made.
Perhaps the most distressing feature of the whole thing is having people constantly ask me, "But what will you go on to next?" And the answer each time is, "I don't know". It comes hard to my lips, because my counselling training tells me to try for well-rounded endings, no unfinished business, no loose ends. Yet here I am, having to leave people behind with a gnawing uncertainty hanging in the air.
It's not for want of trying to get a new pastorate. For some time I've been following up all the leads I can, but my face never seems to fit anywhere. If you want to be schooled in humility, try contacting churches as a wannabe pastor. There is nothing like it for making you feel very small.
In one way this uncertainty is a very biblical position to be in. My late mother once told me how she felt about trying to walk when she could not feel the weight she was putting on her limbs because of stroke illness. "It's like the Bible says: we walk by faith, not by sight."
I'm afraid I'm very risk averse. But I know full well that risk aversion is not the way of faith. I trust Jesus Christ to save me from the most horrendous risk there is, the risk of eternity in hell. If I can do that, surely I can trust lesser things into His hands?
Meanwhile, people are proving to be kind. It is kind of you to read thus far. Two households have opened up their homes to me. A church has offered me at least some scope for following my lifelong calling as a pastor. These are hints and pointers rather than long-term solutions, but they indicate that God is working something out. This is an adventure I would like to share with you as it unfolds. I invite you to watch this space.
What is causing this drama that doesn't feel like a drama? My present church pastorate, in Worcester UK, is coming to an end after 4 and a half years. Communications have broken down, the decision to leave has been taken, a slightly unreal air of relative normality prevails, and preparations for my last Sunday on active duty, 8 August, are being made.
Perhaps the most distressing feature of the whole thing is having people constantly ask me, "But what will you go on to next?" And the answer each time is, "I don't know". It comes hard to my lips, because my counselling training tells me to try for well-rounded endings, no unfinished business, no loose ends. Yet here I am, having to leave people behind with a gnawing uncertainty hanging in the air.
It's not for want of trying to get a new pastorate. For some time I've been following up all the leads I can, but my face never seems to fit anywhere. If you want to be schooled in humility, try contacting churches as a wannabe pastor. There is nothing like it for making you feel very small.
In one way this uncertainty is a very biblical position to be in. My late mother once told me how she felt about trying to walk when she could not feel the weight she was putting on her limbs because of stroke illness. "It's like the Bible says: we walk by faith, not by sight."
I'm afraid I'm very risk averse. But I know full well that risk aversion is not the way of faith. I trust Jesus Christ to save me from the most horrendous risk there is, the risk of eternity in hell. If I can do that, surely I can trust lesser things into His hands?
Meanwhile, people are proving to be kind. It is kind of you to read thus far. Two households have opened up their homes to me. A church has offered me at least some scope for following my lifelong calling as a pastor. These are hints and pointers rather than long-term solutions, but they indicate that God is working something out. This is an adventure I would like to share with you as it unfolds. I invite you to watch this space.
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