Pause For Thought
Pause For Thought
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Some people find the stories of Easter Sunday hard to believe, despite the arguments that attempt to justify them. Yet a few weeks ago, I heard on the radio that a random sample of three thousand people had shown fifty-five percent believing that Jesus is alive, believing in some kind of resurrection. These were not particularly Christians, or people of any particular beliefs. Let's think about faith for a few moments.
Faith and reason are often considered to be in opposition, but this isn't true. We are expected to use our minds to think things out, as far as we can, and when reason has taken us as far as we can go, then we step on in faith. Our experience gives us good cause for faith, as we know the people or things we can trust, and build on them. What is more, our faith is a spur to action. Believing, we make the unreasonable happen. The Bible says we could move mountains into the depths of the sea, a wonderful picture.
I don't think my faith is great enough for that, but I do think my faith can help me to level the mountains of the misfortunes that come my way in life, till I can tackle them. I do think the times when life's hopes seem to end, can be turned by faith into new life, new vigour. I do think that weakness and frailty can be used to serve others with faith.
And faith helps us to accept that there are mysteries in creation that we do not understand and probably never will. The gospels tell us that our creator is not dead, but is very much alive and with us every day. Because of that we can face our future with confidence and serenity.
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Here we are, well into a very early Lent, with time to consider the choices and challenges that confronted Jesus as he journeyed to the cross, and also our own chosen life-style. It was once a lean time, when much of the food stored for winter had been eaten, a very suitable time for fasting. Today we eat plenty of whatever we like from all over the world. Times have changed.
But there is one event in the church calendar that reminds us of the world-wide Christian church. On the first Friday in March, women across the denominations meet to celebrate the Women's World Day of Prayer.
I regret that I will be away this year on that day. It is one of the dates that has meant a lot to me for forty or fifty years, and I remember one year in particular when Rolleston's celebration was attended by people from five different denominations, who came from Rolleston, Anslow or this side of Burton. Such ecumenical unity led to a great feeling of fellowship.
But though absent, I will think of the congregation gathering to sing and pray together and to learn a little about Guyana, whose Christian women have compiled this year's service. There will be a speaker, and several members of the congregation will take part. With women across the world they will join in the final hymn:
As o'er each continent and island
The dawn leads on another day,
The voice of prayer is never silent
Nor dies the strain of praise away.
You are invited to join them.
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"Wait twelve to fifteen weeks for the next signs of development." It seemed a very long time to me as I followed the instructions that came with two Christmas presents. There were packs from different people, one with crocus bulbs and one with irises, with pretty pots to put them into, and I had happily settled them into their compost as directed. Now, I must put them in a dark, cool place for twelve to fifteen weeks before bringing them out into light and warmth, to encourage growth and flowering. The packet explained that the time lag is essential for roots to grow and flower buds to form. Wonderful!
Sometimes we ask God for things to happen to ourselves or other people, and there is no immediate result. Perhaps he hasn't heard, or has he said "No?" Maybe we have in our minds a God who acts rather like a fairy godmother, waves a magic wand and all is changed, as we requested. Of course, sometimes he does say "No." But sometimes we just have to wait until the time is right, the roots and flowers have grown and developed, as I do with my bulbs. when all is ready in God's plan, the request may be seen to be granted.
When we pray, we need faith as we make our request, and then patience to wait until the gift comes.
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A young, unmarried girl who had just learned of her pregnancy but had no idea where her child would be born, or what his life might hold, could well not be filled with happiness. But Mary went straight to her cousin Elizabeth to pour out the joy which was filling her mind and soul. She couldn't keep quiet about God's greatness, and the favour that he had shown to her, a peasant girl, in a way that generations ahead would always remember.
Her song praised God for his great works of might and justice throughout time. As he promised, he had showed mercy to those who feared him, and helped the poor and oppressed rather than the rich and successful.
It is a song often used in church, one that has been set to music by numerous composers over the years. Its joyful praise of God carries us along, uplifting out hearts as we sing. It is good to join Mary in praise of God's work in our own lives for we are all special to him, loved by him. And we must never neglect to praise him for the acts of love and deliverance written in the Bible or told by many people. Mary overflowed into song because she knew that God had chosen her to give a human body to his Son. Jesus brings us hope that God will rescue us from the darkness of human failing, making our heart sing too.
Best wishes for a joyful Christmas to you all, and happy singing in the festive season!
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I noticed his name in the obituary column of the daily paper. There had been a car crash while he was on holiday abroad, and he had not survived.
He was a brilliant man, one of the best-known of his generation, and he devoted his genius to research into the relatively rare disease I suffer from, Myasthenia Gravis. He pioneered some forms of life-saving treatment, and led a team in Oxford which researches the understanding and treatment of Myasthenia and similar illnesses.
He became known world-wide and was given many appointments, too many to list here. One of his gifts was the ability to communicate complicated facts to students and ordinary people alike. I remember being in a meeting where he made such information crystal clear to folk like me. He also passed on his enthusiasm for his subject, the excitement of knowing how our bodies work.
A genius of great standing, lost in a moment's accident. Yet the article I read, and others since, have stressed not just his work, but the man himself: delightful, outgoing, generous and always youthful. He loved music, was a good cook, and was modest about his past experience as a pilot in the RAF. His sense of humour was lively, and the happiness of his family life, with his wife and married children and grandchildren, was mentioned as warmly as his devotion to the subject that was his great talent.
What counts most in our lives? Our achievements, great or small? Or the people we are? How does God see us when we come before him at last?
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There is a short column in our Saturday's paper with the heading: "Are you happy?". A wide variety of people have contributed to it, some saying "Yes," many not nearly so certain about it. Some who say "No" have unhappy relationships, boring jobs, not enough money or time with their family. Those who say "Yes" don't just say "Happiness is a warm puppy," or something similar, but feel fulfilment at work, have a stable family life, have been able to take opportunities in life and find pleasure in many things, or treasure memories of the past.
One impressed me very much. She is a musician, a solo harpist, who says that for her happiness is a spiritual thing. She doesn't get it from shopping, or eating things she specially likes. It depends on her relationship with God. She said: "I feel unhappy if I'm not speaking to or hearing from him. It's like a marriage. If you don't communicate, it falls apart. I believe the reason people get unhappy is because they break that connection with God."
Of course, there are times when sorrow comes to us, disappointment overwhelms us, or the way ahead seems dark. But if we maintain our connection with God, share it all with him because we know he cares about us, then we have the happiness of knowing that he is ours and we are his, and nothing can break that bond.
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Now that we have sadly said farewell to Mick Dilley, who has moved to Kirkby in Ashfield to continue his ministry there, we will have more Local Preachers on our preaching plan than we did before, since he is not being replaced at present. He took perhaps ten appointments each quarter, and sometimes we will have other ministers from the group of Methodist churches known as the Circuit. So, forward the Local Preachers!
They are in many ways similar to Lay Readers. When I first qualified, fifty years ago, I had spent some time helped by a more experienced preacher, taking services and being offered advice. I had also taken written exams after courses of study in four subjects: Old Testament, New Testament, Christian Doctrine and Worship and Preaching. When I had passed these, there was a Trial Service and an oral exam in front of all the Circuit's preachers, quite an ordeal. Then I became Fully Accredited and remain on the list for life. I take services locally and could go to other Circuits if I had time.
Today, people who are starting to train receive a Note to Preach from the Circuit and spend time helping someone else. If all goes well, they are put On Trial, and begin a rigorous course of study. Today, modern methods are used, with projects and a portfolio as well as a great deal of reading and discussion. If they stay the course and convince the circuit that they have a calling, they are well equipped to proclaim the gospel from the pulpit.
We will miss Mick sorely, but we will be well served by the Local Preachers in our Sunday services.
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Newspapers everywhere have been publishing photographs of four-year old Madeleine McCann, hoping to stir somebody's memory as the search for her continues. She personifies the innocence and vulnerability of all abducted children. (The average annual number who go missing in Scotland alone is around 275.)
Innocent, helpless but active is nine-year-old Saul Arellano, born in America to an illegal immigrant. She hopes to make a life in safety for her son, but is threatened with deportation. Saul emerges from the Chicago church which shelters them to plead quietly with influential groups: "Don't deport my mother." He represents a section of the world's children caught up in dealing with governments.
The media came closer home to publicise the plight of yet another group: children whose lives are limited by the duties of care they shoulder for parents with physical disabilities or addiction to drugs or alcohol. Before and after school they are needed at home, and often deprived of leisure activities most of their age-group share.
Most of our children don't fall into these categories, but a salutary warning came recently that we don't give them the same freedom to develop fully as previous generations have done, because we tend to over-protect them from imagined dangers. They need time to explore and find out for themselves.
During the coming school holidays, may our community's children find fun and relaxation, as well as happiness and happy relationships.
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There I was, one Monday in April, with a list of names, a sheet of instructions, a form for signatures, a box of keys and a frantic feeling.
The recent building work at the Methodist church included altering doors to comply with fire prevention regulations, and therefore putting in new locks. Everybody's old keys became useless, and without new ones nobody would be able to get into the building at all. The result was that keys had to be issued to all the groups who use the building regularly and to many members who need easy access.
Often we regret that churches can no longer be left open all the time because of vandalism and theft. Doors have to be locked to keep some people out. But keys open doors as well as close them, and churches are unlocked to let people come in. Maybe they come for community use, which is good. Maybe the unlocked door lets them in for personal prayer, or for a united act of worship. Maybe that key opens up to them a greater understanding of life, a greater awareness of God, a greater response to him. Maybe it opens up the kingdom of heaven to them.
That April day I was delivering small pieces of ordinary metal with great spiritual potential. Quite a responsibility!
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"Don't delay, do it today!"
1. Tidy the house, or do some decorating.
2. Pull up those weeds in the front garden.
3. Mow the lawn.
4. Sit down with a cup of coffee and a holiday brochure to dream.
5. Plan (and carry out) some exercise.
6. Negotiate yourself a bit of leisure, to spend on a hobby.
7. Send in your income tax return.
8. Pay your overdue bills.
9. Pass the time of day with someone you meet.
10. Catch up with the news on T.V. or in the paper
11. Write the letter you owe.
12. Phone the friend who is going through a bad patch.
13. Spare some money, or some time, for a charity.
14. Make a list of things you ought to do, and throw away the last one that's still on the sideboard.
15. Read a chapter of the Bible.
16. Have a conversation with God, listening as well as talking.
O.K., I know you can't do all that unless the day is stretched out to be much longer. but try doing the list from the bottom up. That might help.
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While John and Charles Wesley were alive, before Methodism had been expelled from the Anglican church, the movement grew and flourished and, as often happens, differences of opinion led to splinter groups who wanted to pursue their own way of worship or use the laity more. The biggest of these was the Primitive Methodist group, which began with a meeting at a fair held at nearby Mow Cop in 1807.
A carpenter called Hugh Bourne, together with William Clowes, tried to reach people who would not usually be in a church, particularly a fashionable one, by preaching at this open-air event. It attracted a good number of working-class people and many more such meetings took place. The main Wesleyan Connexion did not welcome this, although between 1808 and 1810 Hugh Bourne and his brother directed new converts into the Wesleyans.
Anybody was eligible to hold office, and many women became "regular preachers", and eventually the Primitive Methodist Church came into being in 1810. Their first circuit in Burton began ten years later. So this year Methodism celebrates the 200th.anniversary of this foundation.
The third special anniversary this year is for a mere seventy-five years. In 1932 the separate branches of Methodism came together once more as United Methodists. A few churches chose not to join in this amalgamation, and many more kept pride in the traditions of the past. Traces of origin can often be found in the buildings like the inscription over the front door of the Rolleston chapel. But past rifts were healed and Methodism spoke with one voice again.
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Methodists are celebrating three special anniversaries this year, and the first of these is the birth of Charles Wesley three hundred years ago, in 1707. He was four years younger than his brother John, and together the two were responsible for the movement within the Church of England that later became Methodism. Sons of a vicar, both went to Oxford University, where Charles and two friends started a society nicknamed the Holy Club or Methodists because of its members' methodical lifestyle.
After graduating, both brothers were ordained and began ministry within the Anglican church, whose worship at the time was formal and somewhat impersonal. Both the Wesleys preached more lively sermons, which were not always welcomed in the church. Neither felt really satisfied with their faith until both had religious experiences described as “warming of the heart," and they began to travel around the country preaching and urging ordinary people to a closer relationship with God, and to a better way of life.
Charles was less given to emotional preaching than John was, but he too was excluded from some Anglican pulpits. He worked in Cornwall and Wales, and looked after many condemned criminals. He was less ambitious than John, simpler and gentler, but devoted to his brother. Unlike John, he had a happy marriage with musically talented children, and is best known as a hymn writer. It is estimated that he wrote more than six thousand hymns or devotional poems, many of which are used throughout the denominations. They include "Hark! the herald angels sing," "Love divine, all loves excelling" and "Jesus Christ is risen today." We give thanks for such a talented man.
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"Well, if the conversation has to be charitable, there won't be much of it!". So said Norah Batty in the Christmas edition of The Last Of The Summer Wine. That made me think.
One meaning of the word charitable is giving to good causes. Some people have very active consciences, realising how rich we are compared with many in this world, and they dig deep in their pockets in response to the many appeals we receive for the less fortunate. For them, charity rules O.K. Sadly, some still begrudge sharing their good fortune.
What about charity in our thoughts? Some people make irresponsible and selfish decisions, and it is hard to think charitably about them. Nevertheless, we should try to tolerate and understand people who have different ideas from our own, rather than condemning them. In the media we see reactions, often hysterical ones, to customs or cultures new to us in the world we now find on our doorstep.
And now for conversation! The newspapers and T.V. are full of uncharitable, even malicious, comment, and I imagine we have all joined in the chat that criticises or makes fun of someone else, finding it clever or good for a laugh. But that shows no charity. Conversation can be lively, interesting, amusing and charitable at the same time. Perhaps that should be a rather late resolution this year?
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I usually make our Christmas puddings early, well in advance of the Sunday before Advent begins. This is nicknamed "Stir-up Sunday," because the opening words of the collect for the day are: "Stir up, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy faithful people," and besides their spiritual meaning they also carried a message to the housewife to obtain her ingredients and start cooking!
There are so many ingredients to Christmas: the doors to open daily on the Advent calendar; cards to prepare, maybe with letters included, reminding us of people past and present who enrich our lives; shopping for presents which need to be chosen, wrapped and maybe posted; working out who is visiting who, and when. There is food to be made,bought, stored away; decorations; lights; the lovely tree; plays to watch, with small children looking angelic; carols to sing. And we need time, to stir all ingredients, to organise the perfect day, the perfect celebration, the memorable celebration. It never seems long enough.
But if all goes well, there comes that moment when the world is hushed, creation is still, a light shines in a stable, a star hangs overhead, the door of our heart stands open, and God is at the centre as love is born. Wishing you a very happy Christmas.
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One of the happiest tasks for new parents is choosing a name for the baby. Should they use names of parents or grandparents, or go trendy and modern? Will it be hard for the child to spell, aged five? Does it have a pleasant meaning? Is it likely to describe the child's character well? Do the initials make a silly nick-name? and so on.
In the Bible, names were connected with personality, and sometimes were changed part-way through life to reflect this, as was the case of Simon, renamed Peter. The two boys whose births are described at the beginning of Luke's gospel had names that reflected their calling: John, the gift of God to both Elisabeth and the Jewish nation, and Jesus, like Joshua, one who saves.
I wonder if you are content with your name? Would you like to change it? Do you think it suits you? Are you proud of it?
In many stories in the Old Testament, God spoke to people directly, using their name. Moses heard God's voice naming him as he gazed at the burning bush. The boy Samuel thought the priest was calling his name, but it was God. Jeremiah the prophet, too, heard himself named, and others.
This very personal conversation with people is continued right into New Testament teaching, where we are told that the Good Shepherd knows his sheep by name, calls them and leads them.
Your name, your character, are known to God. Don't miss his loving call to you, personally.
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We watched a youth drama group performing "Dracula Spectacular" with gusto. Count Dracula was a menacing figure: jet-black hair, white face, long black cloak, commanding voice, evil manner.
We knew him in another guise, as an auburn-haired, freckled 16 year old, tall, affectionate, peaceable, kind-hearted, but for the performance he appeared entirely different.
Of course, that was a deliberate disguise, but it reminded me once again that we can't judge by outward appearance, and often it is not pretence but a genuine difference that misleads us. Not all criminals look evil and threatening, not all possible friends are attractive and pleasant at first sight. It's important to look beneath the surface of, for example, the many "celebrities" in our society.
Do you remember what happened when David was anointed king? All Jesse's sons were called before God's prophet, Samuel, and a fine, upstanding lot of young men they were, but the prophet didn't feel God's choice fall on any of them.
Finally, David was called in from shepherding his father's sheep, and God said: "That's the one!" God looked on David's heart, his potential, in spite of his human failings. God looks at the human heart, not the appearance or attainment of the person. He looks beyond the front that person presents, and we are wise to do the same in all our relationships.
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At the end of July the two churches in Rolleston got together to run a holiday club, "Seaside Rock," for primary school children in the village. We were joined by James from the Riverside Church, and a team of about fifteen of us planned and prepared ourselves over several weeks to occupy thirty-two children for five mornings. There were songs, drama, aerobics, jokes, crafts, games on the field and the essential drinks and biscuits. Bible stories formed part of the programme, told by the disciple Peter, who said how important it is to build our lives on solid foundations, like the man who built his house on rock, not sand.
The children seemed to enjoy it immensely, as did the parents on the Thursday evening, and they asked for more next year!
Not one of us could have done that on our own. Its success depended on contributing our own abilities and strengths, planning and preparation, and being willing to join in with others who had similar aims. We wanted to give the children a good time and to share with them some of our own beliefs. We worked together and helped each other out, accepted the work of the co-ordinator, who kept us on the right track. And though we willingly gave all we personally could, we also received a lot ourselves, not least the satisfaction of working with like-minded people.
Many parts of life depend on this sort of teamwork. Community activities of all kinds--- clubs, sports teams, societies, choirs, orchestras and so on --- all depend on willing participation of the members, self-giving and the acceptance of a leader, a conductor, a co-ordinator.
Above all, in our churches we commit ourselves to working with like-minded people under the leadership of God, to tell others about our faith and to bring his kingdom in the place where we live, among people we meet daily.
We can do so much more together than we can do on our own, as the "Seaside Rock" helpers found, to their delight. The breath of sea air did us all good!
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I expect you have noticed the growing number of plump people around today, including children, who run the risk of all kinds of illnesses later in life, we are told. So we are bombarded with advice about healthy living, exercise and diet. What we eat is very important.
It's just as important to be careful what we fill our minds with, if we are to remain healthy. I can't believe that a diet of violent films and video games has no effect on a child's mind (though I must admit that Tom and Jerry don't seem to lead young people into violent behaviour. Perhaps they are simply too removed from reality to be taken seriously!) Equally damaging can be the absence of good role models, a slapdash approach to work, a tit-for-tat approach.
Sometimes children are encouraged to put themselves in the centre of their thoughts. Recently, I saw a small boy making life miserable for his parents and grandparents by having the final word on every decision. Eventually he said: "It's MY holiday!" I hate to think what sort of adult he will grow into with that attitude of mind.
For our own health as grown people we, too, need to be careful of our mental diet. Of course we mustn't ignore the world's dark side, but we can set aside gossip, grudges, suspicion, thoughts of revenge, and promote peace. We can enjoy books, music or TV of a good standard without accepting rubbish. The world is full of marvellous things for our delight.
Do you remember St. Paul's words? "Whatever is true, honourable, just, pure, lovely and gracious, think about these things."
And have a lovely summer!
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What an array of things is to be found in the Bargain Basement of the Burton Mail! "Swimming pool, never used;" "Wedding dress, worn once;" "Three piece suite, as new;" "Child's swing, v.g.c.;" "Washing machine, refurbished, runs smooth;" "Babydan stroller, needs quick wipe-over." All second-hand bargains, waiting to catch the eye of the reader who would welcome something different to add to their life, perhaps help them as they make a new start.
At this time of year we sample the renewing of the world, with fresh growth that reminds us of God's continuing care for his creation, and our hearts are cheered by the changing seasons, longer, warmer days, flowers and young creatures, crops growing to fruition.
Easter often comes as the daffodils arrive, bringing its message of resurrection life and speaking of the new life Jesus gives to each one of us who believes in him. This new life doesn't depend on the changing seasons. It isn't a second-hand life, merely refurbished, an "as new" life, in very good condition, certainly not needing a quick wipe-over.
It is completely new, as if we were born again. We are given a life as perfect as the new baby who lives next door to us, completely innocent, full of potential. At first the new spark of life is small and needs careful protection, nurturing. But it is God's free gift to us, and brings with it joy and fulfilment.
We must be careful to recognise, value and tend it with care, thanking God for his great gift.
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Sometimes events leave us feeling as though our world is shattered. We can't visualise how life will go on, what we should do, how we can summon up enough courage and strength to face the future.
After the events of Easter the disciples must have been in a state of utter confusion. The shock and terror of the crucifixion and the growing certainty that Jesus had conquered death left them in a state of chaos. What on earth should they do now? Their old life was over, and they couldn't go back to it.
Before Jesus left them for the last time he told them that they had a mission, to tell everybody what he had told them about God his Father, and about his life gladly given for love of them. But that seemed too much to expect of them, and they had no confidence in themselves. Besides, they still feared the authorities.
They remembered an instruction Jesus gave them: "Wait in the city until I have given you power from on high." So they retreated to a quiet life centred on the upper room, meeting for fellowship and prayer, doing as they were told: waiting. And when the time was right, God gave them the gift of the Holy Spirit. They knew what to do and had the strength to do it.
The Bible gives us many of the commands of God. If we do as he tells us, he will keep his promises to us, and shower us with his gifts.
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The gospels tell us that Jesus went by himself into the hills to pray. Not on this occasion the well-loved pattern of synagogue prayers, nor the fellowship of his close friends, which must have been a bit like a traditional Prayer Meeting.
No, instead time spent on his own enjoying the presence of his heavenly Father, talking to him and listening as well.
There is great depth to prayer and many different aspects of it: telling God how much he means to us, asking for his help with our lives, asking his blessing on other people and so on. And it isn't always a question of bombarding him with words. It is important to take time just to be alone with him.
Methodists are observing 2006 as a year of prayer. During this time there will always be prayer somewhere in the Methodist Connexion, and the churches in or around Burton are taking part from 6 p.m. on Good Friday until 6 a.m. on Easter Day.
You are invited into the Methodist Church in Rolleston between noon and 2 p.m. on Saturday 15th. April. Come for as long as you like, two minutes or two hours! There will not be a service, but you are invited to relax with God and to follow some of the suggested starting-points for prayer.
Perhaps you would like to stop by the list of streets in the village, and pray for people who live there, or make a bead prayer bracelet, or write some of your thoughts down. Or perhaps just sit, and let God speak peace to you.
We hope you will share this exploration of prayer with us.
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It's the time of year when people begin to plan a holiday, a change of scene. Now, some of us like change, and some resist it, much preferring familiar things and places, but whether we like it or not, change is built into our lives, and comes to us without being invited.
Jesus faced change in his life, and brought change. After years in the carpenter's workshop he realised that God had other plans for him, too, and he asked his cousin John to baptise him as a token of a new beginning, before giving himself entirely to teaching, healing and walking the road that eventually led to Calvary.
To help him, he asked friends to go along, bringing change to their lives also. The first thing he did with one of the first of these was to change his name from Simon to Peter, a symbol of the changed life-style of the fisherman, used to battling with the elements in order to earn a living but now meeting the needs of the many folk who came to Jesus for help.
I don't suppose it was easy for those disciples to leave their homes and work to go with this itinerant preacher. I sometimes wonder what Peter's wife and mother-in-law said when the regular supply of fish wasn't there any more, or what the father of James and John said when his sons left him managing the family fishing business on his own. Jesus brought a change of work, a change of thinking, of priorities and of attitudes.
Jesus still brings changes to people even today. We need to listen for his voice telling us what he wants us to do. And although some of us have followed him for many years of our lives, there may still be new paths he would like us to tread, new friends he would like us to make. It isn't likely that we have to leave everything in quite the way his first friends did, but we must be prepared for him to alter us, make us kinder, less selfish, more loving.
In the weeks before Easter let's try to accept gladly the changes he brings in our lives, as we follow once again his path to the cross.
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On February 2nd. some churches will dedicate all the candles they will use in the coming year. It is Candlemas Day, the final celebration of Christmas, when we remember the presentation of Jesus in the Temple.
As the law of Moses instructed, Mary and Joseph brought their offering of two turtle doves and carried their infant firstborn son to present him to the Lord. Perhaps in their mind was that night almost six weeks before when his impromptu cradle was a manger, and shepherds from the hills, surprised by an angelic messenger as they worked, had hurried to see the new baby. As for the Wise Men, the Bible isn't clear when they travelled, seeking their King. Maybe they had already come to present their gifts.
Now in the Temple other people recognized who their baby was, people who had spent a lifetime in faithful prayer and worship. Anna apparently never left the Temple, and wise Simeon was moved by the spirit of God to come on that day. Much to the parents' surprise he knew that here was the Messiah, and he spoke words we still use in our worship today. For Mary and Joseph it confirmed what they already really knew about Jesus.
With faithful, patient Simeon, we can say that our eyes have seen God's salvation, and his description of Jesus as a light to lighten the nations matches our picture of him as the Light of the world. His light kindles the flame of all those who believe in him, like many candles in the darkness of our world.
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It's a bitterly cold day in the picture, and the Flemish town is deep in snow. Warmly wrapped against the cold wind, people are making their way from the church towards their homes. Some are breaking the ice in the frozen river and carrying buckets of water to the bank, while several are chopping and gathering firewood. A man heaves a heavy sack, a youth manhandles a large empty jar towards the pub.
Few pay much attention to the three merchants' wagons in the middle distance, still fewer to the small procession of people passing a crowded building where a fire blazes merrily. In the bottom left-hand corner of the picture, almost out of sight, two figures kneel on the snowy threshold of a shack, where we can partially see a man and woman with a tiny child.
The town is too busy with its own daily chores to be aware of the birth of the son of God, and it doesn't really care anyway. Only the travellers from afar see, believe and worship.
It is so easy in our modern world to be just as preoccupied. Life gets busier all the time, they say. Yet whether we notice or not, God comes, and is there, in our lives. He doesn't wait for us to be ready. But if we see, and believe, then we too worship him, and bring him away from the edge of the picture into the centre of our lives.
Happy Christmas!
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When I was three, my father made a dolls' house for me for Christmas, and the following year he and my older brother installed lighting in it. I was thrilled to be able to switch on the tiny lights in each room, to shut the front of the house and see the lights shining in the windows, and the small inhabitants cosily getting tea or putting the baby to bed behind the curtains my mother had carefully stitched.
Some of that delight still remains with me. On a dreary night I love to see a street with lighted windows, curtains carefully drawn against the dark, unwelcoming evening. Inside I imagine warm rooms, probably food and friends or family, chat and laughter, music or T.V. to entertain, and it all makes me feel comfortable and cheerful despite the wintry weather.
Our homes become even more important to us as the days grow shorter. They don't have to be grand places, just the spot where we have the things we value, where we can do as we like and truly be ourselves. They are the places we long to come back to when life take us far away.
At the end of this month comes Advent Sunday, reminding us that the Son of God willingly left his home in heaven to live a human life, so that he might take us back with him to be at home with God for ever. During Advent we try to make our hearts fit places for him to live in, so that we can say: "Welcome, Lord Jesus!" when we celebrate his coming at Christmas.
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During June, the Methodist churches in Burton considered a booklet called "Presence," which deals with some of the problems and potential of the Christian church in the countryside today. Its emphasis is ecumenical, not denominational, and we thought about the part the congregation could play in the community, representing as it does the presence of God among his people.
It was suggested that we have a priestly part to play, bringing to God prayers for the people and things that concern them. We know the needs of individuals and understand the issues that matter to them, and decisions that will affect their quality of life. It is our privilege to speak to God on behalf of the school, the Luncheon Club, the Parish Council, and all who live in Rolleston.
We also have a prophetic part to play. Prophets of old gave God's word to his people, making plain the wrongs and injustices that were not what he wants in his world. Part of our function today is to have an opinion on issues of importance. We don't have to be negative about everything, or fail to listen to other voices, but in an increasingly secular world we should be prepared to speak out for justice and truth.
Thirdly, we are an evangelising presence in the community. Our worship should reflect our own awe and wonder, and our joy, hoping to attract others into it to share our way of life, and to try to bring them to a meeting with Jesus.
Quite a task, all of this, but we have God's presence with us as we tackle it together.
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At the beginning of the war, my family moved from the east end of London into Essex, for safety. For me, it was a different world. There was no schooling, so mornings were spent learning to ride my bike in the big garden, or harvesting lavender to go among our clothes. In the afternoons, I scrambled through the hedge at the bottom of the garden to the village common, edged with bramble bushes. My mother and I carried many baskets of blackberries back to the house to be cooked, bottled or turned into jelly, then stored in the dark larder which was lined with shelf upon shelf of jams and pickles for the coming winter, a place that spoke comfort and security.
Sometimes we went by bus to the nearest small town to buy rainbow wool for my first efforts at knitting. There, I had a marvellous time wading through deep piles of leaves in the Square, delighting in crunching them beneath my feet. Once I got used to them, the branches of the apple tree tapping my bedroom window at night, and the hooting of the hunting owl, ceased to be frightening. I felt it could all go on for ever.
Perhaps I was specially aware of all these things because they were new to me, but I know that the brightness of that autumn, speaking as it did to all my senses, has left a lasting mark upon me. September never fails to fill my heart with joy and gladness, and cause me to sing and praise your God and mine.
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Sometimes I watch the Antiques Roadshow. I like to see people bringing possessions they treasure from their living rooms, or items that they dislike and store in the attic. Of course, they hope to hear something interesting about them, not least that they are very valuable!
Recently a miniature book appeared, the smallest that the expert had ever seen, perhaps the size of a postage stamp. The workmanship was exquisite, and with a very strong magnifying glass it was possible to decipher the words of the Lord’s Prayer inside. It was worth a lot of money.
Another man brought a gift set of toy cars, each still carefully boxed. When the expert said how carefully he must have played with them as a child, he said he had never actually PLAYED with them. He was told that this is the way to increase the worth of toys: keep them unused and in perfect condition.
What strange ways we have of valuing things. Beautiful though it was, nobody could read that tiny book. As for the toys, never played with, they hardly gave the child the pleasure that the donor intended.
We have been given so many things that enrich our faith, but a shabby well read Bible is surely worth far more than that little volume. And the chance to share conversations, ideas, and experience is there to be explored, not marked in a box marked “Christian Fellowship” because it is so precious.
We can’t put money value on our greatest treasures: love, happiness, closeness to God and each other. Let’s use them to the full.
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At the spring meeting of the district Methodist synod, four people spoke about their Christian faith, how they had heard God calling them to serve him as full-time ministers in his church, and how they had responded to that call. All of them are just completing the practical part of their training, finishing the studies they began in college while having responsibility in a ministerial post in this part of the country.
They will join others from all over the country to be ordained at the end of the annual Methodist Conference in June, in the Exeter area. With hard study behind him and full ministry before him, our minister Mick Dilley will be there, with his own family and many of his church family to support him.
Each of the four had different stories to tell, each was inspiring. All came from different backgrounds, with special gifts to offer. All had heard God's voice and known that he had work for them to do.
It was good to know that even in this secular age, God calls people to continue his work, and good to know that, despite all the personal sacrifice this may entail, people are willing to equip themselves for the task and follow where they are called to go.
Give thanks for our ministers, God's pastors and voices for his word, and pray that for all of them it may happen, as one of the four said, that "the CALL of God becomes the GIFT of God."
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Are you fed up with the word "manifesto"? This is not a party political article!
But Jesus, too, had a manifesto, one endorsed by his followers down the ages, including us. When he first became known in Galilee, he went back to his home town of Nazareth, where everybody must have heard of the local lad making a name for himself further afield. They flocked to the synagogue on the Sabbath, agog to see him.
He was invited to read the lesson, well-known words from Isaiah about good news for the poor, release for prisoners, sight for the blind, freedom for broken victims and the favour of the Lord. Finally, he said those words were fulfilled that day. It was a proclamation of his mission, a manifesto.
We know he did preach news of God's love to the poor and give sight to the blind, though I don't remember him opening prison doors and letting exultant prisoners out! His meaning was much wider. He was no warrior-king but the Servant of God, enlightening those who were blind to God's goodness, giving them a different view of life. He released those imprisoned by sickness, sin, poverty or oppression into a new relationship with God.
He was concerned with the well-being of all who came to him, whether that was physical, mental or spiritual, and his manifesto applies to his followers today. Party politics don't come into it. We must care for all who come into contact with us, working to enrich their lives, because we too are servants of God.
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"Are you going to church tomorrow? We Buddhists pray at home. There's our shrine," and our neighbour pointed to a special corner of their living room.
I thought, we Christians pray at home too. In fact, we are taught that we can pray anywhere, at any time.
But worshipping together is a vital part of our way of life, and the worshipping community is an extended family. Some members may be special personal friends, but all are part of the body of Christ, so we respect, honour, love and care for them.
After the crucifixion, the friends of Jesus clung to each other, devastated with grief at the loss of their Master, probably filled with guilt because they had deserted Jesus when he most needed them, and afraid the Romans would come for them next. Gradually they realised that death had not kept him, and he appeared among them as they met together in the upper room or by the Sea of Galilee. When he finally left them and went back to his Father, they continued to share their prayers together, and so our tradition of meeting as Christians was born.
In our church family we share our church worship and our mission. We encourage each other, learn together and comfort each other when times are hard.
Though I respect my neighbour's way of life and beliefs, I am very glad to belong to the household of faith, and pray with them.
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Each of us takes a different path through life, and we have many companions along the way.
I remember a toddler who tugged at my hand to draw my attention to every flower, pretty pebble, friendly dog or cat, and so reminded me of many things I had ceased to regard as wonderful.
Then there was the guide on a walking holiday in Norway who took us to the top of the hills for a breathtaking view of the fiords, bringing us down again at break-neck speed when thunder and lighting suddenly developed. He first inspired us, then delivered us from danger, and he sticks in my memory.
And my father in very old age, stick in one hand, leaning heavily on my arm with the other, warmed by the autumn sunshine as we strolled slowly in the garden. He was solitary now and dependent both physically and emotionally, but he still gave me a great deal. I remember all these, and many more, as we shared life's journey for a while.
In the book of Genesis a man is mentioned so briefly that we know nothing about him except that he was the father of Methuselah and that he "walked with God." That must have been a life full of blessing, and in the end "God took him."
We, too, can share life's road with God. In fact, during Lent we try to make it a closer walk, following in the footsteps of Jesus as he set his face steadfastly to go to Jerusalem. We make space to reflect on his life and death, and each year we understand more about the love that drove him to give up his life, to bring the human race close to his heavenly father once more. Perhaps we are able to make a fuller response to that love too.
There is no better travelling companion than God, and no more satisfying life than one walked with him.
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Vital Statistics, 2005.
From an advertisement in the local press, about a sale in late December:
“ Kitchen Essentials”.
* Assorted wine glasses- £3.99
* 2 Slice Toaster----£4.99
* Frying Pan Cover------£2.49.
* Sandwich toaster-----£8.95
* Bread Maker------£24.99
* Le Creuset heavy gauge casserole------£89.00
From the list of possible contents of an Aquabox, to be filled and sent for the Tsunami Disaster Relief programme:
* Survival bags
* water filters & purification tablets
* plastic bucket
* 4 cups, 4 bowls
* soap, toilet roll
* 6 candles, torch, string
* safety pins, scissors
* needle & cotton
* brush and comb
* usable clothing for adults & children.
The response of ordinary people to the crisis in the Indian Ocean has been tremendous and heart-warming, and it must continue for months or even years until people's lives are rebuilt, as must the aid given to the many other needy communities round the world. We wealthy folk must learn to give to those who have nothing. Remember the words in Luke's gospel chapter three: "He who has two coats, let him share with those who have none: and he who has food, let him do likewise."
May God bless our generosity.
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The advertisement declared in large letters: "We've lowered the cost of Christmas," and went on to itemise goods which would make "ideal presents". On the first page, none cost less than £199. It didn't take me long to bin it all.
For some people, Christmas is an ordeal. Pestered by children, whom they love and want to please, they are tempted to spend far more than they can afford, while others run up enormous debts by spending lavishly on food, drink, even new furniture. For them the cost of Christmas is indeed high, not just in financial terms but often in their human relationships, strained by such lavishness.
If you can't, or won't, follow such foolish paths, Christmas can be costly in other ways. It takes time to search for affordable presents that will nevertheless please (but they are available if we look). Planning for, and preparing, happy gatherings for family and friends, and perhaps a stranger or two, cost time and effort as well. However we tackle it, Christmas is expensive, either in terms of money or effort, often both.
And what was the cost of Christmas to God?
In Jesus his son he forsook the splendour that belonged to the creator of the universe, restricted himself to a human body, and accepted as his home a simple stable, probably shared with animals, possibly none too clean.
The Word that was present in the beginning became a speechless infant, helpless and utterly dependent.
Christina Rossetti captures it so beautifully in her carol when she says:
"Enough for him, whom cherubim worship night and day,
A breastful of milk and a mangerful of hay."
For God, the cost of Christmas was not too high, because his gift of himself came out of his love for us. And he completed the payment for it all some thirty years later, on a hilltop outside a city wall.
What can I give him? Give my heart.
Happy Christmas!
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In this month of remembering I find myself remembering my grandfather.
When I was a very small girl, my family lived with my grandparents because he was an invalid and needed care. He was not physically very big but he had considerable influence on me.
To begin with, Christmas puddings were always mixed on his birthday at the beginning of December, and that marked the beginning of our preparations for the celebrations. These were very different from today's, simpler but full of fun and enjoyment with our extended family. Grandpa's birthday was exciting because of what was to come.
I associate him, too, with winter skies, because one of my earliest memories is of him carrying me out of doors on a crisp winter's night , saying:"Look up!" I can still feel my sense of surprise as I saw the dark London sky sparkling with specks of starry light.
Summer was as delightful as winter.He had a greenhouse, where I loved to watch him sow seeds and help him prick out tiny plants.He showed me and my brother how to look after our tortoises, even though they rewarded him by raiding his strawberry plants. I loved him dearly, and accepted his gentleness and care for plants and living creatures as the right way to behave.
When he died, nobody broke the news to me, but I knew. We were very close, and he gave me so much, in values and attitudes.
I hope my children and grandchildren remember me in the same way.
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Some people reading this would know straight away but we didn't. Were they weeds or potential flowers? So we removed some, left a few and now have a splendid display of evening primroses!
Last year the garden took second place to the house because we moved, but now we have a small greenhouse and more flower beds, and I've enjoyed planting, watering and feeding, then watching the never-ending miracle of growth. Best of all has been bringing indoors lettuces, tomatoes, beans and handfuls of sweet peas. There is nothing quite like the satisfaction of harvest, even on that small scale.
As we celebrate Harvest Festival and give thanks for God's provision for us, we remember too sowing, nurture and harvest in the spiritual realm. Sometimes in our personal lives and in the community things grow whose origin we can't explain, like our evening primroses, but often we have to do the planting with care ourselves.
It's no good expecting to find love and peace flourishing unless we sow the seeds of love and peace and tend them, weeding out the growths of hatred and discord when they appear. With care, we hope for a rich harvest.
Of course, as in the natural world, things don't always work out as we hope. Conditions have to be favourable for love and peace to grow, as for beans and tomatoes and grain. But if we don't try and aren't prepared to do the work, we certainly can't expect the right crop.
Then, as we work with God to keep his creation good, we thank him that his mercies still endure, ever faithful, ever sure.
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Twenty years ago this month, my life changed.
Strange symptoms rapidly worsened until I was diagnosed with an incurable disease I had never heard of, and the search began for treatment I would respond to. During these years I've learnt a lot, which I want to share with you.
Firstly, in hospital you meet hundreds of people battling against illness of all kinds, many with great courage and determination. I can always find someone worse than me.
Secondly, support from family and friends is incredibly helpful, specially when days are bad and long. What would I do without them?
What would I do, too, without the medical profession who try to secure for me as good a quality of life as possible? I try to live my life to the full as a thank you to them for their commitment to me.
My faith has strengthened and supported me. Feeling God's presence with me through the worst times, I'm sure he doesn't want his children to suffer. He doesn't deal out illness as punishment, and fighting it is, for me, part of the fight between good and evil.
For many people, suffering doesn't enrich their faith but poses deep questions, or almost overwhelms them as they struggle for survival. I respect them, and cherish the strong bond of shared experience and understanding between all who suffer.
Finally, life is often hard and can be very fragile, sometimes hanging by a mere thread. It is a most precious gift, to be treasured with care.
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© Richard Bush
Last updated: 9 May 2008