god's-lonely-man

1 Samuel 3:1-10 - A 7 minute sermon for a 9:30 service on Sunday.

2012-01-12T21:01:00.003Z

Hannah wasunable to become pregnant. And she was troubled by this, she carried a deephurt in her heart, like a scar. In one of her dark moments Hannah visited thetemple of the Lord and in her bitterness of soul, she prayed to God, “Lord,hear my sadness, feel my pain, remember me, be merciful to me. Give me a sonand I will give him back to you.”

As sheprayed, she prayed silently and her lips moved. A priest called Eli wanderedpast her and said, “stop your drinking”, thinking she was drunk. And Hannahexplained that she wasn’t drunk and she shared her story.

The priest,Eli, blessed Hannah and Hannah left.

In due timeshe conceived and gave birth to a boy, whom she called Samuel, because Samuelsounds like “heard of God”.

When Samuelhad grown up a few years she took him to the temple and saw Eli. And she said, “Rememberme, here’s the son that God has given me, and so I’m giving him back to God.”

And Hannahprayed a beautiful prayer about God’s faithfulness. And she left Samuel in Eli’scare. And Samuel learnt to minister before the Lord under Eli’s guidance.

Samuel grew up,and Eli grew older and older until he was very old and going blind.

And so wereach our reading.

In asituation where the word of God was rare, where there were few visions.

Where thepeople of God had got into a rut, and were not expecting God to speak.

Or perhaps.

Perhaps,rather than not expecting God to speak,

Perhaps,they just weren’t giving God any room to speak.

We have Eli,who has become a living, embodiment, a metaphor for the people’s relationshipwith God.

People weren’tpaying much attention to the word of God.

And Eli wasgoing blind, so he couldn’t read it.

And so thereis this perpetual situation of trying to learn how to live when God’s wordseems rare.

And oneevening Eli is lying down resting, with the temple’s light source, thesymbolic, lamp of God slowly burning down. Sometime in the night, the lightwould go out, and a new lamp would be prepared to be lit the next day.

And again,symbolism is powerful here, as the lamp starts to fade physically, it becomes ametaphor for the light of God. God’s public presence in the world.

The light isfading in the temple and soon it will be left in darkness.

And THEN.

Then, intothis context, this background of shadows and a growing sense of risingdarkness, God speaks.

But Goddoesn’t move a mountain, or send a firestorm or a flood.

God speaks,and to Samuel’s young ears, it sounds just like Eli.

This amazingsign from God, and it sounds like a voice in the night.

And itsounds like the voice of Eli.

Or maybe itdoesn’t, maybe it does sound like God, a real “God” sounding voice, but Samuelis just too humble to imagine that God would speak to him.

Samuel, whosleeps in the temple of the Lord, near the Ark of God.

The voice,calls Samuel by name. “Samuel”.

And Samuelresponds, he speaks into the silence and stillness, with the light flickeringdown.

“Here I am”

And Samuelgoes to see Eli, who says, “it wasn’t me.”

And the samething happens again. And again. But the third time.

When Samuelspeaks to Eli and says to him, “Here I am; you called me.” Something changesfor Eli.

It’s likescales falling off his nearly blind eyes.

It’s like thebooming voice of God in the near silence of the temple.

Eli remembers,he remembers that he used to know what it was like to hear God talk to him. Toread God’s word.

To actuallyexperience God as a reality for himself.

But not justto hear God’s voice, but to be called, as if by name.

And Elitells this to Samuel. It’s the Lord speaking to you.

Eli, thepriest of countless years, tells this young man Samuel, who we are told inverse 7, doesn’t even know God yet. And did not understand the word of God.

And Eli,knowing Samuel, and knowing how innocent and humble Samuel is to all that Godmight be saying to him. Tells him what to do.

And I wonderwhether as Eli was giving this advice to Samuel, whether he was thinking thatperhaps he should take some of his own medicine.

And soSamuel, the humble, the diligent, the quiet, goes back to his blankets and liesdown.

And the Lordcame and stood next to him and said, “Samuel! Samuel!”

The Lordmade himself known to Samuel in a profound way. Are we prepared to get thatclose to God, or rather, to let God get that close to us?

The Lordcame and stood next to Samuel.

And Samuelanswered, “Speak, for your servant is listening.”

Could we saythat?

“Speak Lord,I am listening.”

Or even beforethis, could we even say that we are listening in expectation of hearing God’s voice.

Bishop StephenCottrell, asks the same questions in a wonderful little book called, Do Nothing To Change Your Life. And Iwant to recommend it to you.

But I alsodon’t want to recommend any other voices, or inputs to add to the collectionthat clog up our lives already.

TV,telephones, newspapers, Twitter, the BBC website, long distance phone calls,BBM’s, iPods, iPlayer, Sky TV, or maybe even UCB Christian radio.

I used tohave an amazing spiritual breakfast every morning, four chapters of the Bible,and a time of prayer.

And then wehad a baby! And that pattern has continued in times and seasons, but the dailyspiritual diet has become more sporadic, piece meal, no more morning Biblebinges, but snacks of scripture throughout the day.

And in thebusy-ness of life, whether you have children or not, the pressures on our timeand on our senses mount up.

And the onlyanswer, is to actively, deliberately make space.

And that ishard.

To findsilence.

And so as Ifinish jabbering at you, we are going to pause for a minute.

Before wesing a marvellous hymn, all about listening for that still small voice.

And in thissilence, I want to encourage you to offer yourselves to God once more, as Hannahoffered Samuel.

and silentlysay the words that Samuel said, “Here I am.”

And thenlisten.

ONE MINUTEPAUSE

Father God, be to us the still smallvoice that whispers in the dark. Be to us the loud crash of cymbals that drownout the noise of the world. Be to us, the physical presence that draws closeand calls us each by name. AMEN.

2011-12-27T18:13:00.002Z

Travel With Me. My latest poem/post.

Luke 2:4-7 TARGUM

2011-12-22T16:18:00.000Z

So many people had journeys to make. And Mary and Josephalso had a journey to make. They travelled from Nazareth a town in Galilee,upwards to the village of Bethlehem in the hills of Judea. Whether or on adonkey, or by foot, the journey passed through lush olive groves and dry desertclimes. Bethlehem was widely known as the “town of David” and Mary and Joseph travelledto Bethlehem, secure in the knowledge that Joseph belonged to the house ofDavid, for Joseph was a descendent of King David himself. Joseph went with Maryto the village of Bethlehem, to register for Caesar Augustus’ census.

Mary was Joseph’s betrothed, his fiancé who he was to marry.She was pregnant with a child to be born of God. They arrived in Bethlehem inthe midst of busyness, people coming and going, travelling from far and wide toregister for Caesar Augustus’ census. They found hospitality with Joseph’sdistant family. The family already had guests in the guest room and so Josephand the heavily pregnant Mary found themselves sharing the family room with thecousins of a previous generation.

While they were staying with Joseph’s distant family Mary’slabour began. As her contractions grew more regular, women from theneighbourhood started to arrive at the house, they made their way through thestable and up the few steps into the family room with its assorted mangers. Asthe women arrived, the men of the household offered Mary encouragement and thenleft to await the news in a neighbour’s house. Then the nearest the village hadto a midwife arrived and with the women from the community helped to deliverthe baby. Mary’s first child, her son was born and swaddled in cloths andplaced into a sheep’s manger. The women from the neighbourhood dispersed andthe men returned. And so it was that the boy slept his first night in a roomwith Mary and Joseph, and some distant relatives as well.

Falling For Mary (an advent poem)

2011-12-13T17:42:00.001Z

Mary, I am sorry, for the way I’ve acted towards you.

For the silent disdain I’ve held in my tradition, without ever really knowing it.

Ten years ago those words and prayers about you confused me and I just couldn’t understand,

Your place and role in God’s Father plan.

I never quite got what it was you did, but have a kid,

A kid who was God, but there was much more to it than I gave you credit for.

And then three years ago I re-read those words you said.

Recorded in that book.

And I read them again and again nearly every day.

Words about how God sends the rich away without what they came for.

Those things you said about the humility of a servant.

And how God is merciful, forever.

And I grew to appreciate you more.

Found something in you like a revolution.

And realised that your words held a power that was beyond who you were.

That the song you sang in all its magnificence,

Was itself a miraculous event.

Last year I saw your face, painted with oils deep and rich.

On an island off the coast of Scotland.

You were dressed in blue, your head covered, your eyes deep and penetrating.

And I couldn’t look away.

From that gaze, that,

Felt like it held time together.

And then this Spring I spent so many days with other pictures of you.

Brush strokes trying to tell the story of that moment.

When the messenger of God visited you.

And I wondered.

How you felt.

Whether you were scared?

Or pious?

Or submissive?

Or strong?

Or both.

And I think I started to fall in love with you.

When I realised that,

Beyond the pictures in their gilded frames.

And white lilies.

And red needlework.

And doves.

And prayer books.

Was you.

Humble.

Brave.

And resilient.

So resilient.

And I realised that those words you sang in that song,

Were sung from your experience.

And that the eyes with which you looked.

Upon the messenger of God.

Were eyes, just like, the eyes of every other.

And before it all,

I began to see you, for who I’d never let you be.

And since July, I’ve seen those eyes again, nearly every single day,

Eyes shaped out of coloured glass and penetrating in power.

And another gilded frame, with its golds and reds and blues.

And the boy on your lap.

The boy, held close to your heart,

The very same heart to be pierced,

As Simeon said.

And in the darkness of this growing winter,

In the midst of this season of waiting.

I am slowly understanding.

Just what advent means.

And I’m slowly understanding,

Just who you were called to be.

And I’m slowly getting a grip on,

What that is supposed to mean to me.

2011-11-10T13:15:00.002Z

to watch and to walk

occupy the Anglican five marks of mission

2011-10-31T20:15:00.001Z

The more news reportage we get about the UK capital focused media preferred OccupyLSX the more intriguing the reporting becomes.

First off, we had the simplistic (and frankly expected) anti-capitalist label being thrown about the place, with no time given to actually thinking thoroughly about whether the label fits. Sure, there is a banner about capitalism, but one that really points to capitalism being broken. While many in the camp may advocate the end of capitalism, there are many other voices.

The second was the media reportage about the goals of the protest. An absolutely fantastic example of polarising media miss-focusing.

There must always be a right and wrong.
A yes and no.
A left and right.
A good and bad.

A BINARY.

The binary-esque focus of the reporting was intriguing as the media tried to grasp what of this or that, the protesters wanted - wrong approach. - Not that kind of protest.

I think this was epitomised by the Bishop of London's invitation for the protesters to pack up and have a place at a debate in the cathedral. Not that kind of protest - not those rules - not that discussion.

So there has been a struggle to understand the point of the protest, who the protesters are, what they want as a resolution and what they stand for - not that kind of protest.

As my old hermeneutics tutor used to say, "the Bible isn't interested in answering those questions" - read that for the protest "the protest isn't interested in answering those questions".

So while the cathedral and media and politicians all implode in a bounty of hyperbole and the protesters chat Gramsci and Christ we are reaching an interesting moment.

A moment when it seems even the beeb website has recognised that the goals of the protesters and the church .... might actually be the same thing.....

In fact everyone seems to have recognised this...... maybe.

Last year I wrote a presentation about the Bible and Adbusters.

Adbusters is a magazine/website/movement that has really been a key player in the occupy movement, with its issues from earlier in the year encouraging/preparing folk for this November's action.

The Bible is a book that is full of words and prayers about the poor and the broken and injustice and love and hope and resurrection and salvation.

I'm hoping that two pictures will appear on this blog.

The first is the five marks of mission as seen by the Anglican church, the ppt slide suggests which of these marks of mission adbusters might well be achieving, and the same goes with occupy movement, though it may come to be that, "responding by loving service" is being met by the protest too.

Just a question: how many of those marks does an "average" parish church meet. hopefully all of them to some extent, but from my own observations, there's usually a leaning towards marks 1 and 2.

Bishop Graham Cray is a huge advocate of the concept of integral mission. You can't have the great commission without the great commandment (and vice versa). I'm with him, read some Rene Padilla and get your brain involved.

The second picture is a scan of the very first Adbusters I bought, back in Winter 2000 in Ontario Canada, in a Border's, with a Starbucks in my hand.

But the cover picture is fantastic, Christian friends at the time weren't keen, but I think it says something about the current occupy protests, and in particular about the current St. Paul's fiasco.

If we're not careful, we end up chucking Jesus out with all the rubbish of consumption.

How about we stand the cross up in the middle of that rubbish dump.

How about we recognise mission is wide and amazing.

And how about we recognise that people we might not expect are fulfilling parts of the mission of God. (and vice-versa-maybe).

a theology of post-place

2011-10-25T21:47:00.000+01:00

I'm aware that what I'm about to write, may say more about my age and stage of life than other things. And they're half written thoughts, or is that, half thought writes?Years ago when someone left a place: they left. Went. And they'd still be able to be contacted, phone, mail, visits.Think particularly of school friends. As sixteen year olds, hanging out, going through the whole "exam experience". A connection that is built and promises to last. But then school turns into three or four colleges, or numerous employers, and suddenly that connection is shut down (or maybe just paused).After 6th form with a whole new set of friends, experiences, moments, another layer of potential life connections arise: and then: and then: and then: shut down, or maybe just paused, again.Then off to uni, or employment,....And then postgrad....And then jobs elsewhere...etc etc etc etc etc.Maybe all the above apply, or maybe only some, or maybe none.But the theme seems to be same.But sometimes something changes.As an undergraduate in approximately 1999 Friends Reunited appeared on my radar and suddenly, a connection could be remade - or at least a one way connection (unless you wanted to pay a fiver for two way communication). You could read what those old connections were up to. See from their point of view, who they were.A few years later, along came a certain book of faces. It became easier to keep in touch with those old friends you'd made such a connection with. It was possible for two way communication and to not only see how those "friends" saw themselves but how other saw them, which others saw them, and where and when they saw them (even to the point of them being able to log which shoe shop they were now at!). It also, it became easier to connect with the kids with the long face who sat three rows back in French in year 9.The conecpt of "friend" changed (and a whole host of other things........)From pre-internet, to Friends Reunited to Facebook the leaps have got bigger.Communication, digital and all that.But these leaps. Huge.Communication. Place.With each step the change in nostalgia, in memory, in experience, in choice jumped too.And with the ever expanding opportunities to return to past places via live streaming - a new leap has occurred.Obviously a change has taken place in what I'm writing about: people of connection, or places of connection. Sometimes both occur simultaneously , for a time at least.It is now possible to not only know what stage of life someone is at as in where they are and connect that way. But also to communicate two way. And to know someone through others. Or to know a place through others experiences of it.It now becomes possible to know a place or experience in a way that is distant, but also somewhat more closely connected.And I'm left wondering about nostalgia and connection and place and all sorts.The field has changed, perhaps its time for an update to John Inge's A Christian Theology of Place, to A Christian Theology of Post Place.

Matthew 20:1-16

2011-09-18T14:10:00.003+01:00

A sermon I shared this morning at a 9:30 congregation.
The first half of the service is all-age.
The second half lasts about 20 minutes, with 5-8 minutes for the WORD section. Aimed at adults.
Not modelling this as 'good' sermon, but one I enjoyed writing and preaching.
=====================================================================================

PRAYER: Lord God, let my words be your words and our thoughts your thoughts. AMEN.

Page 987 in pew Bibles. Matthew 20:1-16

The Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard. That’s what my Bible calls this parable, a name that wasn’t given by Jesus as he was talking to his disciples, a later added name for the parable: but this parable could so easily be called,

The parable of the grumpy, whinging, grumbling workers.

Or the parable of the really, overtly generous landowner.

But my preferred title would be, “the parable of the two kingdoms”.

Because really, that is what this parable is about.

A choice.

A decision.

There are two kingdoms: which one will you align yourself with?

God’s Kingdom in all its unexpected, confusing, grace-filled, extravagant and yet humble glory.

Or.

Humanity’s kingdom in all its predictable mundanity.

Our reading opens with the words of Jesus.

“For the Kingdom of heaven is like....”

That’s a pretty big clue,

A big clue that what Jesus is going to talk about isn’t just about a particular situation relating to employment contracts and workers rights and the ethics of agricultural labour.

As it happens, it is about those things: but it’s also about so much more.

From the outset we the reader, and the disciples, the original hearers are given a choice.

“What is it going to be, God’s way, or another way?”

‘The kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out....’

The choice is really simple for us. Jesus makes it clear.

The kingdom of heaven is like a landowner.

Whatever the landowner is about to do.

That’s what the kingdom of heaven is like.

As it happens the landowner acts generously,

Not just to the people he hired at 5pm, an hour before work finished at 6pm.

But to ALL the workers.

The landowner is generous to the folk who have worked all day because he pays them that same day, something that didn’t always happen – often people had to wait until the next morning.

And the landowner is generous to the folk who have worked all day because he pays them what he promised to pay them, again, something that didn’t always happen.

The landowner pays them their one denarius – not a huge amount, but critically, enough to get by on.

Not enough to get rich.

But enough to live that day.

Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as in heaven, give us today our daily bread....

Is that generous?

To earn just enough to live on?

Is this parable saying pay people the bare minimum?

No!

It’s saying pay what is agreed and what is recognised as fair.

Because in Jesus’ times,

Just as now,

Day labouring is pretty tough.

Lines of people still queue up in Tanzania to work on farms for the day.

Or in South America, to mine for precious metals for a day.

Whether we get it or not,

In Jesus’ day, day labourers were worse off than slaves.

If you owned a slave you wanted to make sure they were fed and watered, that they stayed healthy.

But day labourers?

If they can’t afford food, or medicine, or shelter... and they get sick, or hungry,

You hired someone else.

So the landowner is generous to the folk who’ve worked all day.

And.

And the landowner is generous to the folk who have worked part of the day.

And.

And the landowner is generous to the folk who have only worked an hour.

And not just because they get paid a days wages.

But because they get paid at all.

The landowner is generous to these people in three ways.

The first way the landowner is generous is that he hires them at all. Typically the landowner hires the people he needs early in the morning. If he needs 30 labourers, he hires thirty labourers in the morning.

But this landowner keeps coming back to hire more.

And not because his vineyard has suddenly grown during the day.

Or because his work force weren’t coping.

But because he is generous.

The second way the landowner is generous is that he hires these people at all.

Who is normally left un-hired? Those who are unable to work.

The sick, the elderly.

In other words, the desperate.

And how can we know they were desperate?

Because they were still there waiting for work at five pm.

You have to be pretty desperate and seriously lacking in options to still be waiting for work when the vineyard is pretty much ready to shut down for the night.

Why are the workers who worked all day so annoyed that these late-comers get the same pay?

Because they didn’t do the same amount of work.

But more importantly, because the landowner treated these newcomers as the equals of those who worked all day.

Their equals.

These people.

The sick.

The elderly.

‘For the kingdom of heaven is like...’

The third way the landowner is generous is that the landowner goes to the market place to hire his own staff.

The landowner does this.

I’m pretty sure that when Richard Branson wants to hire some more train cleaners he doesn’t go down to the job centre himself.

And it’s the same principle 2000 years ago.

The landowner would normally have sent a servant down to the marketplace.

But the landowner himself goes down to the marketplace.

‘For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who...’

Where have we heard that before?

Of someone being so concerned about what is going on, that they go themselves.

Or perhaps they send their son.

And the Holy Spirit.

The Holy Spirit that remains with us, even now.

‘For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who...’

And so we’re left with a stark choice.

The kingdom of humanity.

Or.

Or the kingdom of God.

The kingdom of humanity where we really want to grumble at all the perceived injustices we encounter.

Where people around us seem to be treated the same.

Even late comers.

Even the broken. (mock shock)

How easily do we do this?

Or.

Or we chose the kingdom of God.

God is generous.

God always leans towards generosity.

Always.

It’s who God is.

So how will we respond when we see God’s generosity.

Will we grumble and be envious.

Or will we celebrate God’s generosity, in all its splendour?

‘For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who...’

Let’s Pray: Lord, let your generosity reign in our hearts, let us learn to love like you love, let us learn to give like you give. Let us learn to live as your son Jesus Christ lived. AMEN.

The Power of Words

2011-08-10T10:51:00.003+01:00

Words are important. The meaning of words are important, but equally important are the associations held in connection with words.

Take for example the current “rioting”, “looting”, “protesting” that is taking place around England at this time.

What makes something a riot?

What makes something a protest?

What makes something a criminal act of looting?

Can a riot be a legitimate form of protest?

Can looting be a legitimate form of protest?

Can a protest happen without looting?

Can public protest be justified?

Can public looting be justified?

Can public rioting be justified?

As citizens immersed in a social-media saturated culture, where news is forever updated (even if there are no updates to make), it is vital that we do not let words become unfairly associated with concepts, ideas, actions and values that are not directly part of the make-up of the word.

Whilst we may want to condemn the looting that has occurred on a grotesquely pornographic level and portrayed as such, we must make sure that we do not condemn the legitimate right to protest.

News media easily and often purposely associate words with other words. Sometimes these associations are accurate. Sometimes they are not.

Sometimes a ‘bridging’ word is used to carry a concept load – to change an agenda surreptitiously. This use of metonymy is often illicit and inaccurate. (As is my working-definition of metonymy)

Take for example, the word “riot”.

A “protest” can become a “riot”.

A “riot” can lead to “looting”.

A “protest” rarely leads to “looting”.

And never without becoming something other than a “protest”.

Why does this even matter?

It matters because we as citizens, must not let our right to protest be damaged, belittled, or denigrated because of the action of looters.

Looting is very rarely, if ever justifiable. Perhaps the only exception might be the looting of food and medical aid, or indeed, the looting of goods for sale to purchase immediate food or medical aid – but then, does the illicit taking of food or medicine on a personal scale become an act of “looting”, or “theft” – the power of meaning and the power of words – again.

A protest never immediately becomes a looting.

A protest must change from the act of protest to an act of violent conduct, perhaps, a riot, before it becomes looting.

Even if the protest is against an electrical corporation, or global brand, in a protest that is leaning towards becoming a riot, the consumer goods produced by that global brand, might be destroyed, in protest.

But never “stolen”.

A protest wouldn’t “steal” the consumer goods, it might eradicate them, destroy them, but never take them for personal gain.

Again the power of words – I’ve associated “looting” with “stealing” because that is what it is.

Stealing or looting can never be the natural end product of protest.

A protest that becomes a riot (or something other than a protest ) can lead to looting: but that is not the end-product of the protest: if anything, it is the end-product of a corruption of the protest.

Stealing and looting are not the natural end product of all riots.

The right to protest must be protected.

The right to riot – that is a much deeper question: and yet no!

As citizens, we must be wary and aware in the days to come.

We must not let “protest” and “looting” become synonymous with each other without the inclusion of the word “riot”.

Protest – looting = Not without riot.

We must hold on to our legitimate claims to protest. We must not let protest be quashed for illegitimate fear of “looting”.

Once the right to gather in groups and peacefully speak against perceived injustice is curtailed (protest) – it is at this point that people may decide to take things further (riot).

We must not let “protest” be muddied with “looting”.

PRAYER: Christ, keep us safe from the temptation to over-simplify. AMEN.

Jesus videos

2011-05-19T19:57:00.006+01:00

A Time To Talk and A Time To Listen

2011-05-17T19:26:00.008+01:00

This evening, I had the privilege of hearing Chris Howson speak at St. John's College in Durham. Chris gave a mission lecture three years ago, and it was a really memorable occasion. In March this year I got hold of a copy of his book, 'a Just Church: 21st century Liberation Theology in Action' which is a fantastic little book. But this isn't what I want to talk about.

If you don't know Chris, then you could do worse than to hear him speak at Greenbelt 2011 or to have a read of his book. Chris is into mission in a big way and sees liberation theology being a key expression of God's mission in the world. But this isn't what I want to talk about.

Chris spoke to us about things he's been involved with in Bradford, things he describes in his book. Chris would probably be the first to admit that there are some real complexities in the campaigns he is involved with, Us and Them doesn't quite cut it, though it's sometimes where things end up. But this isn't what I want to talk about.

Chris has a really interesting take on mission and in his conclusion he says somethings I've read elsewhere, but in a down-on-the-ground-PRAXIS way that I really love. But this isn't what I want to talk about.

Chris' argument is strong, even if there is one big-ish area I disagree with him on and would love to have a chat over a pint with him about. But this isn't what I want to talk about.

As Chris spoke there was a buzz, of some folks agreeing with somethings and some folks disagreeing with somethings. It was really good. But this isn't what I want to talk about.

Because what I want to talk about, is sometimes we need to PAUSE, take a breath, and hold in the question, the thought, the minuscule bubble of doubt that will soon dissipate and let things just go.

With the approach I've just outlined there is a real danger that too many things are let slip and before we know it, we're either living out a heresy, or being pastorally naive, or even break relationships and doing damage to the cause we are attempting to support.

But sometimes, we just need to stop. And listen, and pray.

Because, sometimes, we just have to say, "thank you for what you are doing"

Not, "thank you for what you are doing, but I think you're not realising the implications of liberation theology expanded to the nth degree"

Not, "hmm, I like your point but how would that suggestion manifest itself on a global scale"

Those aren't real questions raised in Chris' seminar, but the danger is we too quickly belittle what someone is doing.When at the very least they are doing.

And at the most, they are building a part of God's kingdom, most of us don't even second glance at.

I suppose, I've been affected by Stephen Cherry's Barefoot Disciple (which Clare and I read over lent).

In that great little book, Cherry talks about the difference between grumbling and prophecy. Grumbling, simply is when we moan about something that is bad, but don't do anything. Prophecy is when we see that something is bad, and want to speak against it, to transform it.

It would be easy to grumble about things we read, or hear, or things that people do with good intentions. It can be easy to belittle the efforts of others.

Instead of grumbling, let's try being prophetic.

Or as the old phrase goes,

"PUT UP, OR SHUT UP."

SECOND NATURE - PRAYER

2011-05-05T00:20:00.000+01:00

It's when prayer doesn't feel like "second nature"
that something needs addressing.

And what does that even mean, "second nature"?
Presumably it's some sort of second reaction, ingrained
like an instinct, too deeply embedded to be forced back
or repressed. It will happen no matter what.
In case of so and so happening, the physiological
entity in all it great complexities will respond in a certain
way, a particular fashion. Similar to fight or flight, perhaps.

When prayer isn't one of those first port of call options,
I wonder why. What is it that has taken its place.

Whatever the answer (and its usually grumbling or getting angry)
one thing is for sure. I would prefer that first instinct to be
to pray. Sometimes we need to pray for help to pray.
To pray for God to put on our hearts a hunger to pray.
So that, is what I think I need to do.
Goodnight to you all.

Rough Edge

2011-04-13T22:30:00.000+01:00

Quietly Charismatic

2011-02-07T16:53:00.003Z

The life of faith that the trinitarian God of creation and wonder calls us to is an ever-changing journey with (to coin a phrase courtesy of Margaret Silf and many more) many waymarks.

This journey at times is peaceful, at time chaotic. We walk, run, or crawl through varying degrees of opulence and tragedy, splendour and disdain. And in so many ways, our individual and collective walks with God bear the marks of our journeys.

Sometimes these marks are in a static symbiosis with the journey, sometimes they stand in a prophetic witness to our journeys.

More simply: at times of busyness, our spirituality can become busy with the buzzing of a thousand voices. In times of peace, our spirituality can echo still pools and thin-place ethereality.

And, on occasion, our spiritual journeys stand in deep contrast to our lived experience. This can be confusing, but also incredibly sustaining.

I find myself in this latter situation. Currently life spirals ever-deeper into a whirlpool of action and doing and busy-ness and work and life, where the different calls of family, work, preparation for ministry, creativity and devotions are muddling around in life's ever murkier waters.

Yet at this time, I find myself faced with an experience of God that is charismatic and at the same time stilling. For the past week, whenever I have turned to prayer, even simple, quiet prayer, I have experienced something of an enveloping charismatic experience of the Holy Spirit.

Not a charismatic Holy Spirit experience that has led to tongues, or being slain in the spirit, of prophecy or outward gifts, but instead, these charismatic experiences have been deeply quiet. With a warm, open stillness that has evaded me for much of my prayer life. As if something has just "clicked", I'm not sure what, or how, but I feel incredibly at peace in prayer in a way that I have rarely experienced before.

I believe that our walks with God cannot and must not be seen as individual expeditions, with each on their own quest, but rather a collective call to ramble towards the God of Creation and Wonder who calls us into a life of relationality, with Him and with each other. It comes as no surprise to me then, that the most profound of these experiences have been in times of community prayer.

I don't know how long this quietly charismatic revolution will be running on tip-toes through my heart, but I am grateful for it.

Saturday

2011-01-11T11:36:00.000Z

Land of unspoken hurt,
Carrier of broken, discordant dreams,
What sorrows lie beneath your veiled shadows?
What tyranny is evoked in your proximity?
The day after and the day before,
Where time runs by a different clock,
And hope dances darkly with despair,
A moving slow waltz to and fro,
With glazed eyes staring pointedly ahead,

You barren land of unspent potential,
Broken bastion of revelry and concern in equal measure,
Who gave you this place of power over eternity?
Do you know the potency in your grasp?
Night becomes day becomes night,
Dull grey mourning, hopelessly pained afternoon,
Anticipatory fear at all that may happen,
Hushed voices and raised swords,
Or simply nothing, deathly quiet,

Pock-marked unease,
No foot-sure place to stand,
Will the brightness of this world arise again?
Can the light break through seemingly impenetrable darkness?
Gathering together dreams with friends and neighbours,
Tall tales shyly spoken in a whisper,
Hands gripped tight for all the will and want,
In the great slumber of one is found the heavy restlessness of another,
Prepare to awake O sleeper, for your day is nearly at hand.

Melancholy and the finger poke that never was.

2010-12-15T20:00:00.003Z

Tonight I was listening to the fifteen year old classic that is The Smashing Pumpkin's, Melancholy And The Infinite Sadness. A fantastic album full of themes of rejection and love, of faith and doubt. My love for the album was recently rekindled by Walsh and Keesmaat's discussion of it in Colossians Re:mixed. It is a truly superb and like a fine wine, it has aged really well.

There are so many good songs on the album but tonight I discovered a new one, one I'd never really listened to before; I had heard it, but never listened. Thirty Three. Full to the brim of evocative imagery, superb, slippery descriptions that have an overt religiosity, as well as playing n some key Christian symbols. (Check it out yourself!)
I want to use the song in Discipleship worship next term, it is so utterly beautiful and fragile.

Searching on the web I found so many different websites talking about whether Billy Corgan from the Smashing Pumpkins has a faith, or a spiritual belief, or more precisely, "has Billy Corgan made a public declaration of Christian faith?"

Now, I'm not saying that this isn't an important question. I'm pretty conservative with my evangelicalism, but I have to admit, sometimes I think we miss something.

Christians struggle with ambiguity. Christians of all theological persuasions.

In my tradition, at Easter we rush from Good Friday to Easter Sunday. We have a cross and we have a risen Christ. If you are a protestant you may have the emphasis on the cross, if you are Orthodox, you may have the emphasis on the empty tomb.

Not many folk like to linger in the hushed, tearful and fearful rooms of Easter/Holy Saturday. Not many of us like to hover in such dark and terrifying ambiguity.

At a Church House Party this summer I preached on this theme for a good forty minutes: part of the Gospel we have to share, but too easily forget to share, is that within the salvation Gospel narrative lies a day when heaven and earth are held in something beyond expression. Something speaks powerfully to the broken in this world.

Maybe its because its beyond expression, or maybe it's because we want to preach the cross and resurrection before people get bored, but we rush from Friday to Sunday.

As far as I can tell, Melancholy and the Infinite Sadness sits well on Easter Saturday. Perhaps that's why we don't really get it.

The apostle Thomas, one of the true heroes of John's Gospel, the apostle who isn't afraid to ask Jesus the big questions, is forever semi-slandered, for his daring to doubt.

And to add to Thomas' infamy, in his painting, The Incredulity of St. Thomas, Caravaggio painted Thomas with his finger plunged deep into Jesus' side, as if to make clear that there is no grey area here, no room for doubt, never mind the fact that the Gospel of John doesn't record Thomas pushing his finger into Jesus' side, only asking for proof.

John 20 (NIV) records, (from www.biblegateway.com)
-----------------------------
24 Now Thomas (also known as Didymus), one of the Twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus came. 25 So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord!”
But he said to them, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”

26 A week later his disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” 27 Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.”

28 Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!”

29 Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

----------------------------------
Upon seeing Jesus Thomas proclaims, "My Lord and my God".
Upon seeing Jesus, not on actually putting his hand into Jesus' side.
What Thomas originally says, and what Thomas actually experiences are different.

Why is it that Christians are so scared to admit that questions, and doubts, and grey areas, and Easter Saturday, are all part of a life-long walk with Christ.

Its for this reason that Nickel Creek's song Doubting Thomas, is just about the only decent discussion of what it means to be Thomas.

So this ramble is coming to an end, drawing to a close, perhaps its best that it ends with ambiguity, with questions still to be answered, with half-chewed-over images and analogies.

There is too much going on to want to get straight from A - B.

An over-simplified poetic rant written in 550 seconds about the nature of mission in a post-christendom society

2010-12-14T19:48:00.001Z

Here is the church,
But where are the people?
Hiding in shops,
Not sat in pews,
Under the steeple,
Where is the meaning and where is the truth?
In bottles of vodka at 40% proof?
Look to the streets,
And look to the parks,
But keep out of sight,
If you’re out after dark,
Long-lost are the hopes,
We had for our kids,
If they don’t end up on drugs,
We’ll be out of our heads.....,
....With joy,
But who is to blame for this general malaise?
Who took the plug out and turned off the lights?
Too fast, too fast to self blame!
“Maybe it’s the culture,
You see, it’s just not the same,”
Tell that to the church in South Korea,
Of the lack of faith, around churches near here,
Where is the hope of the coming of the Kingdom?
“As long as it happens after the reality show’s final?”
Just hang fire with the wild cultural accusations!
Perhaps the problem,
Is more about us,
By “us”, what I meant,
Was quite plainly “I”,
The European Enlightenment,
And its focus on ‘me’.
That I am an individual,
Look can’t you see?
That I have my wants,
My hopes and my desires,
Because what is important,
Is the way that I’m wired,
But step back, surely history’s not to blame?
“Yeah, but what you’re saying,
Is from your individualistic brain,”
Perhaps it’s our ethics,
Because they truly suck,
If we lived out the words,
That Jesus actually said,
Maybe the church wouldn’t just end up dead.

virtue - without virtue

2010-12-12T13:26:00.005Z

"Virtue", it is on the move,
There is a growing desire to express,
Something of profound importance,
That has been hidden and dormant,
Forgotten, shut tight,
Lost to the index pages of dank old books,
Whose library catalogue issue numbers have faded,
Buried at the back and beyond of theological journals,
Volume 1, number 5,
Pages held together more by mould than binding glue,

This "virtue" that could so easily liberate,
Could transform the lived life of faith,
Is under threat again,
But this time not from the stagnant despondency,
And lack of loving interest of many a potential imbiber,
Long forgotten and lost,
Not this time,
"Virtue" is under threat,
From gowns and hoods and conferences,
From beards and pens and PCs,
From tweed jackets and commentaries and symposiums,

This targeted 'topic' (sic),
which has the power to break bonds of slavery,
To mental anguish and the perils of flesh and blood,
That offers a new vision of life,
Life in fullness,
Life in togetherness,
Life in growing,
Faces a threat,
So potentially insidious that it will once more be lost,
Lost to silence,
Lost to noise,
Lost to many,
Lost to those hoping for transformation,

And indeed, this very act of typing,
Of laying bare, is open to this same corruption,
Of distortion and reduction,
Deconstruction and re-calculation,
"Do you even mean what you think you mean?"
"Do you even know what you think you know?"
"Can you even define what you think you can define?"
"Where is the solid ground of evidence on which your convictions balance?"
But this dialogue is to be refused,
This dialogue must meet a turned cheek and graceful hope,
Of willingness to sacrifice the wills and wants,
The instincts of snapping back,

For if those instincts are followed,
What is the worth of wondering in the ethereal realm...
And so, to find some conclusion,
We must,
We must take "virtue" and we must unmask it,
We must wipe clean the residues and decaying decadent dusts,
We must start a fresh,
Crack open the original pages of the original book,
And we must be originally formed,
Open and expectant,

We must open our mouths wide and eat the scroll before us,
We must lie on one side 390 days,
and 40 on the other,
We must be open to the Divine inspiration,
Open to service,
Open to the Divine's opulence and power,
We must seek the Spirit's revelation,
We must move away from abstraction,
For abstraction tends to lead to distraction,
And distraction can miss the point,

And so we must save "Virtue" from itself,
We must not discuss it in abstract terms,
We must pray for it in object terms,
We must seek to live lives of utter dependence on the Divine,
We must hope through prayer and reading to be formed,
Into a likeness,
The likeness,
Not for the sake of academy,
Not for the sake of success,
But for the sake of wholeness,
But for the sake of the entirety of creation,

Let us not name "virtue",
Let us not rationalise it,
Let us not try to define it,
Let us not re-brand it - 'faithful following',
Let us not cultural-ise it, - 'sixty-six steps to.....'
Let us not rhetorical-ise it,
Let us not prove it,
Let us not remove it's mystery,
Let us not sell it,

Let us not even seek it,

Instead let us read the word,
Instead let us pray with hopeful hearts,
Instead let us ask for the Divine's insight,
Instead let us live out charity,
Instead let us live out transformation,

Shall we move, 'After After Virtue' to the bargain bin?
YES!

"Virtue" is dead!
Long live something indefinable!

Jonah - a poetic paraphrase

2010-12-07T09:31:00.003Z

JONAH

THE FIRST
The word of the True Divine came powerfully to Jonah, Amittai’s son. The word shouted to him,
“Jonah, make haste, get up and go, stand before me, then move. Go to Nineveh, that bulging metropolis of sinful wickedness and indecent indulgence, that bolt hole of bilious bad thought. Go there and shout it down, shout out against it for the stink of their sin is too disgusting.”
Instead, Jonah got up and went, but not toward Nineveh, but Tarshish. He began his journey by fleeing from the True Divine’s presence.
Jonah went to Joppa and found a cargo ship heading for Tarshish. He bought a ticket and got on board, to go with the crew to Tarshish; away from the presence of the True Divine.
But the True Divine thrust down on to the waters of the sea a powerful wind, so powerful that the boat began to creak, as if to crack apart. The sailors were terrified and each of them prayed to their own ‘divine’ deity. Yet the storm continued and so their cargo they set to sea. Crates and boxes were thrown down into the waters, so as to make the ship lighter, and more likely not to break up.
Yet Jonah, had left the deck and headed deep, down into the boat, curled up in comfort and fallen into a deep, down sleep.
The captain of the boat found him and shouted out,
“What’s going on with you? How is it that you can get some shut eye in this chaos? Get up and call out to your own ‘divine’ deity. Maybe your ‘divine’ deity will actually hear us and do something to stop us being smashed upon the rocks! Perhaps your ‘divine’ deity will listen and we might live!”
And the sailors all got together in a panic, they shouted,
“Let’s play short straws to show us who’s to blame for this catastrophe.”
They drew straws and the shortest fell to Jonah.
The sailors urgently asked him,
“Tell us, here and now, who are you that this catastrophe has come to us? What is it that you do? Where do you come from? Which country? Where is home? What people are you from?”
Jonah replied, heart in mouth,
“I am a Hebrew, my God is the True Divine, that is who I fear. My God is the True Divine who made the land and the heavens and the deep, down sea.”
Terror go to work in the guts of the sailors and they snarled at Jonah,
“What is with you? What have you done?”
They were full of terror because they knew, from what Jonah had said, that he was running from God, the True Divine, no sham ‘divine’ deity, but the True Divine.
The True Divine.
The sailors turned in terror towards each other and then to Jonah,
“What should we do to you so that the sea would not totally tear us to tatters?”
The sea was growing ever more dangerous and ever more chaotic.
Jonah replied,
“Pick me up and throw me overboard, into the sea. If you do this the sea will soon settle and you will be safe. It’s my fault; it’s on my account that the sea has become this wild, foaming beast.”
But instead the sailors trusting in their own strength and experience began to row towards the land.
But they got nowhere fast, stuck stationary in the sea, battling with the winds and the waves. So the sailors shouted out to God, the True Divine,
“True Divine, no false ‘divine’ deity, don’t let us die for this! Not for Jonah’s life, and don’t make us guilty of spilling an innocent man’s blood! For you, the True Divine have done what you wanted to do.”
With that they picked Jonah up and heartily heaved and hurled him into the foaming face of the deep, down sea.
The sea calmed.
A new fear settled heavily on the sailors.
They offered a sacrifice to the True Divine and made many promises.
And the True Divine gave purpose to a giant fish to scoop Jonah into its mouth and to swallow him whole.
Jonah was in the deep, down belly of the great fish for three full days and three full nights.
Seventy-two hours in the fish, deep, down.

THE SECOND
At this Jonah called out in prayer to the True Divine and shouted out,
“At my lowest ebb, in my deepest, deep, down distress I screamed out to the True Divine, and he did not ignore me, but brought an answer. Out of the very pitted, fetid stomach of the deep, down dead, I screamed, and you, you the True Divine above all false idols and ‘divine’ deities, you heard my pitiful, raw and terrorized cry. It was you who plunged me into the deep, down depths of the ocean, to its very core, amid the flood of your waters. Waves broke over me, ripples and currents were over my head.”
“And I called out, “I’ve been pushed away from your presence, from the centre of your focus, but I will, with my eyes, see your temple, in its magnificent glory.” The wild and unending oceans surrounded me on all sides, above and below, as if to push out all the air within me and to leave me dead. Weeds tangled themselves around my weak and weary head, way below the mountains, at the fractious rock roots of their foundations, I descended further to the place of no-dwelling, whose prison bars slammed shut above me, leaving me stuck in the deepest deep, down despair, for all eternity I was to be trapped.”
“But you reached down into the deepest deep, down depths, to the darkest pit, you reached down and pulled me up.”
“The True Divine, I remembered you, when every ounce of me was ready for death, when into a pale, weary and languid slumber my immortal soul was descending, slipping over, I remembered you and you heard my prayer, even in the glorious majesty of your temple my prayer was heard.”
“The people who give all their prime attention to the things of vanity and humanity, to the human-made shiny, tactile pleasures, lose sight of the true hope of never-ending, unconditional, all-surpassing, whole-life encompassing love of the True Divine.”
“But as for me, with a heart full of gratitude I will shout out loud in awesome praise and wonder to you, the True Divine. I will thank you with my words and what I say and with my sacrifices, what I offer to you and what I do.”
“What I have said I will do; I will do.”
“You are the True Divine, the True Divine of all and salvation is in your hands. You are salvation!”
And with that the True Divine whispered into the ear of the mighty fish and it retched and vomited Jonah up, so that he came to rest upon the land, laid out, on dry sand.

THE THIRD
The True Divine again spoke to Jonah and said,
“Jonah, get up and go, go to Nineveh, that vast and bulging metropolis, full to the brim of people. Go there and shout out aloud the words I give you to speak.”
So Jonah got up. He got up and made his way to Nineveh, just as the True Divine had told him to. Nineveh was a bustling metropolis, grand in size and population. To take it all in would take days.
As Jonah entered the city he didn’t stop on the periphery of the city, but walked for a full day, into the heart of the city. Once there he, with shout out loud a voice proclaimed,
“Forty days from now and this mighty metropolis, Nineveh, will be brought to downfall.”
When the people of Nineveh heard this prophetic word, they listened and believed the True Divine. The crowds dressed themselves in the sack cloth of repentance and shouted out to all to fast. From the lowest of the low to the mighty and powerful, they all did these things.
The king of Nineveh heard about what was happening in the city and stepped down from his throne, took off his majestic royal robe and dressed himself in sackcloth. He went and sat in a pile of ashes.
While sat in sackcloth and ashes the king spoke a word to be obeyed. His words were spread throughout Nineveh; the message read,
“This law is from the king and his nobles. No human, no animal, no sheep, no bird; is to taste a thing. None are to eat and none are to drink water. But instead all of you, humans and animals, must be dressed up in sackcloth, from head to foot. And all are to shout out aloud to the True Divine.”
“All people are to do a one-eighty degree turn, from evil to good, from the violent intentions in your hands.”
“There is a chance, that the True Divine might show mercy, turn away from his angry show of power so that we all might yet live.”
The True Divine saw the people of Nineveh and their longing for forgiveness, their utter one-eighty degree reverse of behaviour, belief and thoughts. The True Divine saw and showed mercy to the people of Nineveh. The True Divine did not bring the city and its people down.

THE FOURTH
When Jonah saw this he was furious and frustrated. He turned to the True Divine and prayed out,
“The True Divine, above, beyond, below and behind, isn’t this what I said would happen, back before the fish and the boat, when I was in my own land?”
“That’s why I tried to run away to Tarshish.”
“Because every instinct in my guts told me that you are the True Divine, full to the brim, of grace and mercy. That you, the True Divine don’t get angry quickly and are full to the bursting brim, of ever-present L-O-V-E.”
“That you, the True Divine, won’t lay out disasters. And now, at this point, in this place, I find myself in this position and I ask you to remove my life from my feeble frame. Take it from me. It’s much better that I fall down dirty dead than to live on!”
The True Divine responded,
“And Jonah, how is that anger working out for you?”
Jonah walked away.
He walked for a full day and left the city, that vast sprawling and bustling metropolis of Nineveh.
Beyond the edge of the city, to the east, Jonah sat down and made for himself a place to shelter in and just be.
He sat under it, in shade and gazed back at the bustling metropolis Nineveh. He watched to see what would happen to that vast mass of people and animals and buildings.
The True Divine gave purpose to a plant to grow up and over Jonah’s head to bring shade and to release him from the hot glare of the sun. So Jonah basked gratefully in the dull shade of the plant’s bountiful foliage.
The next morning, at dawn, the True Divine gave purpose to a worm to eat at the plant so that it withered.
As the sun rose high in the sky, the True Divine gave purpose to a molten east wind. The wind blew and the sun shone fiercely onto Jonah’s head so that he felt weak and close to unconsciousness.
And Jonah called out a request for death,
“I’d rather die than live!”
But the True Divine responded to Jonah,
“And Jonah, how is that anger about the plant working out for you?”
Jonah shouted back,
“My anger is working out well enough to be consumed by death!”
And the True Divine spoke to Jonah,
“You have so much consideration, mercy and commiseration for a plant that you did not plant, or cultivate, or nurture, or water. A plant which sprung up one night while you slept. And then died one night while you slept.”
“And with that in your head, why should I, the True Divine, not show mercy to that vast, bulging metropolis, Nineveh?”
“Nineveh, where one-hundred-and-twenty-thousand live among many cattle, rich in possessions, but living without a clue, not knowing right from left and up from down?”

Trains and tracks

2010-11-24T10:03:00.000Z

What is it with trains that is so exciting? Is it the sense of adventure? Or of passively travelling (as a passenger) but in such a way as to see and recognise landmarks? On a plane travel is too quick and nothing identifiable is ever really seen except for huge landmarks.

With trains you travel at a speed where all things are viible but at a different speed and from a new perspective. Slightly aloft and different from the road but somehow remaining similar but yet different.

As the train passes through known and unknown places a glimpse can be had, but it is fleeting and all too quickly its gone again. There is no way to resist the sheer power and speed of locomotion.

Even if you wanted to linger, you can't and all too quickly you are moved on in your passive observation to whatever lies ahead.

Perhaps part of the mystery of the experience of travelling on trains is that a train can only go along a particular route. A route actively chosen by someone else to move people efficiently to some place else.

Looks like i'm staying.

2010-11-21T08:09:00.000Z

Recently i registered a blog at a different blogging site, but it turns out that my little mobile phone isn't supported by that site. So it looks like my online identity will remain confused. God's lonely man, psalm 62 and the beat liturgist all rolled into one.

Its morning and i am drinking coffee while my amazing daughter sings and squeals with delight at a praise baby dvd while we have our "morning prayer" together. Who needs common worship?

Books to reflect on:

2010-11-18T20:31:00.004Z

In my training so far, I have encountered a good few hundred books: I've read great chunks out of some of them and snatched at the purse strings of others, never really getting to know the book, just stealing quotations and the odd bit of inspiration. Over the course of a number of reading weeks I've touched down on the fertile ground of some incredible books and then had to swiftly lift off again to pick up the threads of other books that have needed to be read for assignments. On rare occasions I have been able to read a book from cover to cover for an assignment, such as the magnificent Colossians Re:mixed (which I'd wanted to read for about three years!) for a Biblical Literacy In A Digital Age course I am on. But these occasions are rare. With my undergraduate dissertation I managed to read some fantastic things, but not cover to cover.
I love reading theology books; I'm enthusiastic about it, but I am also a really slow reader: what I read isn't easily retained. So I often find myself having to highlight, underline and make notes on, if I want to have any chance of not having to do an immediate re-read.
It looks like the course load has provided a lot of opportunities to encounter a wide variety of texts of all academic levels: but less time to really digest them thoroughly. It is to this venture that this blog is pointing.
I'm really keen not to forget what books I've encountered that I want to read cover to cover; to scrawl on, highlight, underline and get to know. This may need to be done in curacy, or over the next ten years: but either way, the ever growing list can be found below:

John Howard Yoder, The Politics Of Jesus
Michael Frost, Exiles
Stuart Murray, Post-Christendom
Stuart Murray, Church After Christendom
Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination
Walter Brueggemann, Hopeful Imagination
Walter Brueggemann, The Word That Redescribes The World
Kenneth Bailey, Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes
Stanley Hauerwas, A Community of Character
Stanley Hauerwas, Resident Aliens
Phyllis Tickle, The Great Emergence
Bruxy Cavey, the End Of Religion
Capes, Reeves and Richards, Rediscovering Paul
Tom & Christine Sine, Living On Purpose
Stephan Bevans, Models of Contextual Theology
Jurgen Moltmann, the Crucified God
Alan Mann, Sin In A Sinless Society
Nancy Eisland, The Disabled God
Walter moberley, Prophecy and Discernment
David Platt, radical
John Kavanaugh, Following Christ In A Consumer Society
Avery Dulles, Models of Church
David Augsburger, Dissident Discipleship
Gustavo Gutierrez, A Theology of Liberation

The flow of life

2010-05-18T12:27:00.002+01:00

This last weekend I visited the Isle of Bute for a friend's 30th birthday. We stayed in a fabulous castle/manor house and had a fantastic time. The local pun really is true, Bute is beautiful.

On the drive up to Glasgow, we headed past forest after forest of well maintained pine (or fir) trees. Though seen from a distance it was possible to see the formation in which they had been planted, the space between each tree being pretty much the same. Gaps of perhaps, 10 metres flowed down the hill where no planting had been done, presumably to allow access to the uniformly growing forest.

Elsewhere, seedlings had been planted, thousands of them, in long rows. Amongst the seedlings were rotting branches, leaf litter, stumps, all there to slowly return to the ground, allowing the nutrients to support the next generation.

Elsewhere still, were empty barren patches, left as fallow, resting in preparation for the next planting.

I was fascinated; theologically interesting, but also personally. When I was fifteen I was keen to be a forestry worker, I very nearly applied to Askham Bryn(?) to do 'forestry studies', but rather comically, I had hay fever that reacted badly to rotten trees and leaves.

Which got me thinking about the situation I find myself in today. Not to get into too much of the old, "if a butterfly dies in Hong Kong....." cause and effect thing, but it's interesting, how a relatively small situation or issue can change a life direction.

This is obvious, this is known.

But sometimes it's more noticeable than at others.

Right now I could have been a number of things, including:

A forestry worker in Scotland.
A translator in Germany.
A teacher for the visually impaired in Manchester.
A community worker in a Methodist church in Darlington.
A missionary in Kosova.

But I'm here, and it's where I am, where God has called me to be, doing what God has called me to do. And I find it all vvery interesting.

Democracy in action.

2010-05-06T10:32:00.002+01:00

So today is election day, (and oddly enough our TV reception has gone down the pan!)

In Durham the build up to the election has been rife with negative campaigning. I have voted Liberal Democrat all my life and was frustrated by the choice I faced today, their local campaign being marred by so much negative campaigning.

It's not often I'll start a sentence the following way, but here goes..... As a Christian, I really struggle with the whole negative campaigning thing. It frustrates me; it's like gossiping through letterboxes. Wave after wave of ridiculous bumpf has made its way through our letterbox since the election was announced.

The bumpf has been saying things along the lines of, 'the Tories can't win here' (which actually they could, it's very very unlikely, but they could, if everyone voted tory, they'd win... wouldn't they?)

Alongside this there have been the 'what have they achieved since they have been in power' argument (rather than the more positive "what I'd like to achieve if I was in power...")

Where are the policies?

And so at a local level the candidate for the Lib Dems has alienated me as a voter (and four others I know of, some from different communities within the constituency.)

So who can I vote for? My choices are to vote more centrally or vote more to the fringe. Sadly the fringe in Durham appears to be made up of UKIP and the BNP so that wasn't an option. The Green Party didn't have a candidate so I couldn't vote for them (don't get me started about "tactical voting", how tactical voting plays out across a democracy like ours is more complicated than just making sure the lesser of two evils wins.)

Nationally the candidates for PM add a further layer of confusion. Locally, no, I can't vote Lib Dem, my own scruples about negative campaigning and reinforcing negative patterns of behaviour stop me. Nationally, I'd like the Greens to have a reasonable showing (an encouragement to them and a sign of national agenda change). I'd like the Lib Dems to gain more seats (but maybe not Durham). I would like the Conservatives to lose badly (negative campaigning and where are the policies? and quite frankly, just no!)

So who do I vote for?

Who did I vote for?

When I went to the poling booth I stood for quite a long time with pencil in hand, praying to God that my vote would be one of integrity and a genuine desire for kingdom values to take their place in the political agenda. I prayed that I would not live to regret my decision about who to vote for and who not to vote for. I prayed to God for some insight as to how best hold in tension my hopes for Durham and my hopes for the UK.

I prayed for a few minutes and I did then wonder how long you had to take before they removed you from the premises.

And then I voted.

Spring Harvest - new ......

2010-04-17T23:10:00.002+01:00

On my return from Spring Harvest a few things stand out to me:
1. I have missed the sense of expectation of Christian festivals.
2. I haven't really learnt many 'facts' or increased my 'knowledge'.
3. I have met with God and been challenged in ways I could not expect. These last months it has been easy to let discipleship slip and my own spirituality to amount to dry crusts, but I've been refreshed and challenged and I pray to God that he would give me the strength and endurance to step up and follow him with renewed vigour and passion.

We

2010-03-24T21:40:00.003Z

I've been reading Yevgeny Zamyatin's wonderful, 'We'. The book is a fantastic otherworldly, vision of a future planet where the laws of nature, God and love have been replaced by equations and mathematical laws. The book apparently inspired George Orwell to write, 1984 and Aldous Huxley to write, Brave New World.

In it the central character, D-503, begins to rediscover what life is meant to be. Through a series of experiences his horizons are broadened and what he once took for granted becomes confusing and meaningless.

There is a section of the book where a seemingly great rebellious act has taken place against the Benefactor (the ruler of the land). D-503's world is thrown into further turmoil as he struggles to know who to identify with. At one point he writes in his journal,

"I'd long ago lost track of who was they and who was we."

D-503's dilemma speaks into questions I have about identity, about what it means to be church, about what it means to be in community. I need to spend some time dealing with this, but not yet. I need to finish reading the novel first.

Apt liturgy, simplicity, complexity and the life of faith

2010-03-11T21:37:00.002Z

Not got much time now, need family time, but will have to write more on this tomorrow, but just to say, this evening was fantastic. John's college, Durham hosted the annual Michael Vasey lecture where Bishop Steven Croft spoke about the role of liturgy in the life of a mixed economy church.

It was exciting to hear an Anglican bishop speak about what Ann Morisy calls apt liturgies and their place within the ever-evolving mixed economy of the Anglican church. It was also very exciting to hear Bishop Steven speak about five roles of liturgy.

There was much to think about from this lecture. Very engaging.

As more than just an aside, tonight I bumped into my old vicar at Holy Trinity Ripon, Revd. David Mann. We've not seen each other since I left Ripon in 2001, but it was great to see him again. He led the Alpha course in 1999 where I first encountered Jesus and started my faith journey as a Christian. When I left Ripon in 2001 I was still incredibly spiritually immature (even more so than now) and to see him was great as it some how connected some dots, helped to build up a picture of faith as a journey, and the encounters we have on that journey. Last time I saw him I was preparing to leave college and was not deeply rooted in my faith. This time, I'm training for ministry.

A pertinent reminder that sometimes we don't see what happens to the seeds we sow in ministry. Exciting stuff.

I'm sorry but....

2010-03-03T23:26:00.003Z

This evening I attended a memorial service for those who have had miscarriages or still births in the recent past. The service was led by the chaplaincy team from the University Hospital of North Durham. A Catholic chaplain and an Anglican chaplain led a single service that carried the weight of many tensions and was a vehicle for the expression of grief. An incredibly powerful service; so much so that to analyse the service would be to do it an injustice.

What I will say is that I was immensely privileged to be at a service, I grieved with the other members of the congregation and I took great comfort in seeing two ordained priests bearing the tension, pain and integrity of the occasion on their shoulders.

The Anglican chaplain's homily followed the reading of 1 Corinthians 13 and began with words something like, ""I'm sorry but......", "I'm sorry but........", where ever and however we heard that phrase, it changed everything, whether we'd had an inkling that something was wrong, or that everything seemed to be going well, after hearing those words, everything changed."

I was broken by the sermon delivered beautifully and eloquently by Rev. Kevin Tromans, and from his opening words I was taken back to the scan room where Clare and I were told we'd miscarried. For all the pain, the grief and woe Christ was there. Christ was with us and our little one and Christ was with those who attended the memorial service.

What services like these do to the concept of 'mission' is twist it to breaking and stamp all over it. From special care baby units to mumblings in a lonely chapel 'mission' speaks more loudly for itself than can be imagined. I am being challenged in ways I hadn't expected to be. I have been convicted by the Holy Spirit to pray for the work of maternity wards and special care baby units and I intend to do so.

180 seconds

2010-02-25T13:34:00.002Z

At one of the places where I attend worship I have been asked to preach and so am preaching again on Sunday, as I have done twice before. The worshipping community there is transient and services are conducted with great efficiency. A Eucharistic service will take 30 minutes.

In the past, in other places, with other communities I have preached for up to 40 minutes. My preferred time is 20-25 minutes (if necessary). In the past I have also preached homilies of about 5-7 minutes. For the service I am preaching at on Sunday I have three minutes. A twentieth of an hour. 180 seconds. A short amount of time that brings its own exciting challenges.

What can I say in three minutes? What should I be able to say in three minutes? What is there to say in three minutes?

To say, 'repent' takes about a second, but to consider what that means in our context and in other contexts.... How long does that take?

To say 'The kingdom is here' takes only two seconds, but to draw anything out of such a phrase, how long does that take?

When preaching for three minutes the danger for myself is that I round everything down, smooth the edges, fill in gaping cracks and preach a word that has become all the more pleasant to swallow in such a short time. Another danger is that I don't saying anything at all.

But, how do I give a significant message, what can the Holy Spirit express through me in three minutes? Is it enough to leave people with a thought for the day? Is it too much to try to give them more than that...? To either give a soluble gospel that freely disperses into the everyday existence of life? Or a heavy tablet of challenge and cost, with no water to wash it down?

Let Jesus be my guide as I try in the Spirit's strength to find an honest, heart-felt, Spirit-led word for Sunday that doesn't just flatter or make laugh, that doesn't offend for no reason and that doesn't confuse.

Perhaps I should preach Jesus?

Politiking Jesus

2010-02-18T11:22:00.002Z

Have been trying to prepare a seminar for Church History but my mind (and hands and eyes) keep drifting back to some classic Yoder, The Politics of Jesus. In particular his sparse exegesis of Luke's gospel. A community focused reading of the gospel that challenges assumptions.

I'm currently thinking through what Yoder has to say about the arrest, prosecution and execution of Jesus. In the evangelical circles in which my life and faith have lingered I've been relentlessly taught that the arrest, prosecution, trial and execution of Jesus was illegitimate and that as he was without sin, it must surely be unjust for him to be arrested.

It seems, if my tired brain gets this, that Yoder makes a different point. That Jesus was indeed without sin, but that his arrest could be legitimised by the Roman and religious leaders. Yoder's exegesis continually plucks out elements of the gospel narrative and extracts from them points that from the Roman view of the time could well have been seditious or incendiary; in total amassing to political insurrection.

Indeed I'll not read the cleansing of the temple in the same light again, the weight of the events in the eyes of the society leave a lasting mark. Nor will I look at Pilate's advocacy for the freeing of Jesus in the same way!

(p.s. not sure of the blogging etiquette regarding references to books, but basically the first 60 pages should do it!)

Valentines Service In The Lakes

2010-02-16T21:41:00.002Z

On Sunday morning I attended the 10:30am service at Holy Trinity, Chapel Stile. A beautiful church in the Lake District.

The service was attended by approximately 40 people, mostly in middle-age or later and it was one of the most profound church experiences I've had in years. The service was mainstream yet contemporary, aimed at an older generation yet relevant to most people present. Care and attention had gone into the preparation of the service and what could have been a mundane Sunday morning was transformed into beautiful and articulate worship. The Priest in charge, George Wrigley led the service beautifully and the warmth between him and the congregation was clear.

The service challenged my understandings of alternative worship and contemporary worship. It's easy to presume that contemporary worship must mean 'contemporary' to those in the 15-25 age group and not 'contemporary' to those in the 50-85 age group. It's also easy to presume that alternative worship only has a place at a festival, a fresh expression or a church reaching those in the 15-30 age group. The Valentine's Day Service at Holy Trinity showed such notions to be false.

The service made use of The Seekers, Turn Turn Turn whilst those who had lost spouses (unfortunately not partners) were able to take flowers and lay them before the cross.

The service also included intercessions that were beautifully led and cut to the heart of so many issues.

Thom Meredith, a singer from Harrogate sang a beautiful version of Love Changes Everything that was incredibly appropriate to the congregation.

After this there was 'An Act Of Recommitment To All Our Relationships' which addressed husbands and wives, parents and children and spoke more of commitment to each other than any liturgy I have heard in a long time.

The whole service spoke of community; of a priest who knows his congregation and their needs and interests; of a priest who was taking the opportunity to turn what could have been an everyday act of worship and push forward something that was really challenging.

An incredible service and an incredible privilege to worship with a community longing to meet God.

A Parish Nightmare

2009-06-02T21:48:00.004+01:00

Early on Saturday morning, whilst asleep, my wife Clare pushed me, I awoke, surprised. She told me that in my sleep I'd been unsettled. She asked me if everything was okay. I grunted something about having a nightmare. She asked me what my nightmare was about and I replied.
My reply as written below was my reply. I'm not lying. Seriously.

Clare asked, "what was your nightmare about?"
I replied, "the Church of England were thinking about abolisihing the parish system."

I was serious, at 5:00AM. This was a nightmare and would be a nightmare.

Later that morning, at a more reasonable hour, it became clear to me. I.... AM..... AN.... ANGLICAN.....

I mean, I had known this for some time, but there's knowing something, and something invading your night hours and giving you nightmares.

I am an anglican.

I love the Parish system!

Just thought I'd share that.

A new era

2009-03-26T15:47:00.001Z

Grammy winning lyrics from B.Y.O.B. by System of a Down. Still have a haunting feeling in the back of my mind that whilst the president has changed and the future is temporarily optimistic regarding that situation, there is a numbness of inevitability that these prophetic music lyrics will be repeated time and time again.... and it's not just presidents either.

Why don’t presidents fight the war?
Why do they always send the poor?
Why don’t presidents fight the war?
Why do they always send the poor?
Why do they always send the poor?
Why do they always send the poor?
Why, do, they always send the poor?
Why, do, they always send the poor?
Why, do, they always send the poor?
They always send the poor
They always send the poor

Still to be seen

principle and foundation: following on from Ignatius

2009-03-10T22:51:00.001Z

Humanity, in all its complexity and originality,
Was crafted in the image of divinity,
Created to worship the Trinity,
To fill the world with progeny,
And to be stewards of earth, sky and sea,

Through Christianity, humanity,
Is to stand in times of adversity,
To live alongside absurdity and anxiety,
In a world of profanity,
And in a culture of perversity,

To live in ways the world sees as insanity,
To be open about faith and not live in exclusivity,
But to live out faith collaboratively,
In community, with accountability, for all to see,
To preach Christ in his divine humility,
And to preach the Godhead as trinity,
To share the wonder of God’s infinity,
And his salvation for eternity, through his approachability,

Made distinct from manatee,
With the potential for apostolicity,
With an inner Holy Spirit shaped cavity,
With discipleship as a central capability,
Whether employed in book entry security
Or living in Carson City,
To live lives free from sins captivity,

To worship the Lord throughout history
In awe of the glory of God’s mystery,
To hold tightly to the hem of the garment of his deity,
To with our lives seek after his majesty,
And to struggle conceptually to yearn for his orthodoxy,
Through prayer and meditative sensitivity,

To look to his eternal city,
And then to humanity, and see the pity,
And be moved to activity, with tenacity,
In the knowledge that God has no temerity,
Or irrationality, but that essentially,
By Christ’s death and resurrection he has set us free.

Pro-activation of the blog

2009-03-05T21:02:00.002Z

I feel that after seeing Bezzer's lastest blog, I too should be blogging. I have been blogged off for far too long. But all that is in the past now, a new sunny dawn of blogging is about to begin, 1..... , 2...... , 3.......

One week of college done

2008-10-03T18:14:00.001+01:00

Wow, what an exciting week. I have been incredibly fortunate and blessed to be able to spend the last week studying at college. I'm having the time of my life, enjoying my lectures, my chapel worship and all the wonderful things in between. My lecturers are incredibly godly people and incredibly wise.

It's wonderful! Wonderful!

5 years married and more in love everyday?

2008-08-09T20:11:00.004+01:00

Yesterday Clare and I celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary.
The day broke down as below:

* Opened "wood" themed presents for each other

* Went to the Chill Factor(e) where Clare had bought me a snowboarding taster session. I loved it and never fell off!

* Home for a shower!

* La Tasca for lunch, mmmmm.

* The DIY shop for all those last minute DIY needs

* The Red Cinema for a walk around the Lowry, popcorn and Wall-E (amazing)

* Home to sleep

(not the most amazing blog post ever, but sometimes you've just got to enjoy the good things that happen around you!)

The Dark-est Knight

2008-08-01T17:51:00.005+01:00

Last night a friend and I swooped down to a cinema in the modern heart of Latvia's capital city, Riga. We went to the shiny new multiplex cinema to see the new Christopher Nolan Batman movie: The Dark Knight.

I'm not going to give any of the plot away; no spoilers here so it's safe to read on. I don't want to ruin the film for you and I don't want to get sued so it makes sense to steer clear! The movie is a blast. a fantastic follow up to the first Christopher Nolan Batman movie, Batman Begins.

It's a movie that raises questions and is constantly trying to answer those questions whilst posing further and further questions. It's no surprise that a non-official book about Batman and philosophy has been released in 2008. There are so many questions about good, identity, morality, faith, hope, justice, tolerance, etc, etc, etc, the list just keeps going....

One theme that follows on from the last movie into this film is the question of who the Batman actually is.... We, the audience know it's Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale), but most of the inhabitants of Gotham city have no clue.

That's a fascinating concept, an intriguing suggestion; doing all the hard work for none of the glory. Like serving meals on wheels, or being the cashier's assistant at a local community finance initiative, or being one of those people who pray for the persecuted Christian's they hear about in books and at conferences.

A not so recent phenomena is that of the celebrity endorsement for a charity or for a certain work. It's fantastic. When we see a footballer from the Premiership doing a street workshop with some inner-city youth, or when we see a movie actress visiting a small school in Ethiopia. They are raising awareness for the charity, I'm not interested in hearing about the positive impact on their celebrity status, let's not detract from good work for the sake of cynicism.

What is better though, is the millions slipping their pennies into the charity envelopes, the countless people who will never get to visit that school, or who can't teach kids positive footballing skills.

And it's worth remembering (when we're drained from effort, or frustration, or lack of thanks, or emptiness) that Batman wears a mask. The people of Gotham don't know who he is but they know he's there. Those who strive to keep community organisations going, or who support charities in everyday ways may not get much recognition, but the charities and the community organisations know who they are!

Besides all that; the movie is fabulous, terrifying at times, but fabulous.

Up on a mountain, alone

2008-07-08T19:24:00.002+01:00

This morning, as with yesterday morning, in my morning quiet time I was re-reading John 6, paying particular attention to verse 15. Jesus has just fed 5,000 people and he's getting caught up in people's expectations.

Verse 15 reads, "Jesus realized that they would try to force him to be their king. So he went up on a mountain, where he could be alone." After doing some amazing things the crowds were growing and their expectations were growing too, all things were building up, it appears, to the apparently inevitable conclusion that Jesus was their day-to-day earthly king. There must have been an awful lot of worldly expectation to go with such a projected outcome. Maybe Jesus realized that they would try to force Him to be their king. So He went up on a mountain, where He could be alone. Expectations regarding Jesus freeing Jerusalem from the Romans, expectations about uniting God's people, dealing with foreigners, sorting out taxes, criminal cases, petty arguments in the street, about who was more important. So much expectation...

The people didn't have God's picture, His insight into what Jesus was to accomplish. I love that Jesus went up a mountain to be alone, He took a step back from people's expectations, He took a step back from the pressures of His public life. What did He do? I imagine He prayed, like He prayed whenever He went somewhere to be alone. But not totally alone. Alone with His Father.

People's expectations can be too much; they can weigh us down, positively drown us, stifle us, snuff out creativity and imprison freedom and expression. What is Jesus expecting of us? Forget what the crowd thinks or expects? What about God? Maybe we need to retreat to a mountain to be alone. But not totally alone. Alone with God, our Father.

Mud

2008-07-01T19:39:00.003+01:00

For my fifteenth birthday my mum and dad bought me a red mountain bike. I've still got it. I love my red mountain bike, except when it's raining and I have to get to work on it! From the age of 15 until I was 18 I rode it constantly. Between the ages of 18-22 I never rode it. From the age of 23 onwards I've used it very regularly. Usually everyday.

It's a great bike, though I have noticed that in the last few months I've been getting a bit fed up with it. The problem is, my red bike is a mountain bike and Sale and the surrounding area are... quite flat. So my bike hasn't really been used very efficiently. I see people riding to work on road bikes and racing bikes and they go like the wind. My old bike, well, it chugs along the road, with me puffing away at the peddles. It's an 18 gear bike, though it's now only really got 12!

Today I took my bike on the Transpennine Trail. It was fantastic, rocks, puddles, mud, puddles, mud, rocks, scree, incredible speeds, darting in and out, absolutely brilliant.

My poor red bike would have loved it if it wasn't just a slowly rotting, rusting object. It was fit for the purpose it was used for. It's not the best bike on a road or as a commuter vehicle, but shove it on a hill, or a trail and it's transformed. It changes from being a reasonably okay bike, to a glorious colossus capable of flattening mountains.... Well maybe not, but there is a point.

Made for a purpose, the bike is excellent. Sometimes, in my life I forget what purpose I was made for. I struggle along doing things I was never created to do. Knowing what I have been made to do is difficult. We could all have been made for all sorts of reasons. The struggle, then, is accepting the fact that we might be better suited to a different course!

Why God's Lonely Man?

2008-06-30T16:47:00.002+01:00

My use of the name 'God's Lonely Man' is a response to a famous quotation by Thomas Wolfe (1900-1938) from an essay he wrote called, 'God's Lonely Man'. In his essay he says,

"The whole conviction of my life now rests upon the belief that loneliness, far from being a rare and curious phenomenon, peculiar to myself and to a few other solitary men, is the central and inevitable fact of human existence."

In my earlier days I related to this quotation heavily. I sensed that for myself, loneliness and solitary introversion could well some up my very being! Though I was a lively young man growing up, the hours spent reading books, walking on the moors, playing computer games, watching movies, writing poetry or staring at the stars were where I felt most at home. This melancholic loneliness wasn't depressive nor overtly dark, but it was certainly introspective.

Since becoming a follower of Christ my life has changed so radically. Not that I am no longer an introvert or someone who loves to be alone! What has changed is that I no longer feel that sense of "aloneness" as I know that the maker of heaven and earth is with me through everything I experience and every place I go. Whether that is a Psalm 23 "shadow of death" thing or more an experience of being aware of the presence of God. There is no place that a follower of Christ can go to be lost and separated from God. He is with me in all places, in all my travels, my work, my sleeping, my washing up and my praying.

Wonderfully God makes himself known more explicitly in unexpected places. At times and in places where you can't help but see God's kingdom shining through the cracks and weeds of the world around us.

Psalm 62:5-8

2008-06-27T17:20:00.000+01:00

5 Find rest, O my soul, in God alone;
my hope comes from him.
6 He alone is my rock and my salvation;
he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.
7 My salvation and my honor depend on God;
he is my mighty rock, my refuge.
8 Trust in him at all times, O people;
pour out your hearts to him,
for God is our refuge.
Selah

I've given my blog the address http://psalm62v5-8.blogspot.com because of the place that Psalm 62 has in my life. I was going to think of a cool name, something like 'emergent pilgrim' or 'agape peace brother' or something along those lines! Trying to be relevent and still honest, to have integrity and wit. But the more I thought about it, the more I thought, "I need to just return to where I'm from."

Almost ten years ago Psalm 62:5-8 were given to me when I was in a difficult place. The person who told me those verses could have said something else, some sort of home-brew wisdom, but it was the God inspired wisdom of David, a man who's been there and done that, that was most useful for me. In a round-about Psalm 62 answered a lot of my spiritual questions, it brought me closer to the truth of who God is and how much I can rely on him. The verses in Psalm 62 still resonate with me and continue to transform and shape who I am as a follower of Christ.

As such I thought they made quite a good waymark of my walk of faith. They cement together to create a picture of a God who is beyond all the rubbish, who won't get washed away in the storms of life, a God who is unshakeable in his love, his mercy and his grace.

Next time in my blog, I'll try to put into words where the God's Lonely Man thing came from. I'll then actually get down to the business of what this blog is about.

Follower Of The Way

2008-06-27T13:40:00.000+01:00

I had started writing a blog elsewhere on this global network "the internet" but it fell to pieces. So I've moved. I'll explain the name of the blog and my user name in the next blog.

So a recap... Follower Of The Way? Because people are called to follow. I love Rob Bell's book, Velvet Elvis. In his chapter, Torah, he speaks about the way Jesus called his followers. I love it. In Matthew 4 Jesus is walking along by the lake of Galilee. He calls out to Andrew and Simon (Peter) and says "come follow me!" Later on he does the same with James and John, who leave their father's business and their careers behind.

I love the imagery, the concept that there is a calling, there is an option, to step out of the race, like one of the rocks orbiting Saturn, doing a 180 and orbitting in the other direction.Following? Because it's all about following, trying to make sense of where we are, where we are going and where we are being led. Knowing that infront of us is a way, a direction that is pure and spotless and good, and knowing that we can veer to the left, to the right, but still know that the 'way' will still be ahead of us. That's not an excuse to do whatever we want, instead it's an opportunity to see God's grace.Enough said.