Certainties when we need them

How do you find certainties when not very much is certain? I’ve not blogged for a few weeks because I’ve not had anything to say. The last few weeks have been hard as this illness drags on and on and questions I have remain unanswered about the future. 

I miss being part of my churches and yearn to be with them again. But for now it is a blessing to me to be part of the people called Methodist at Hailsham, who have welcomed us and are gently caring for us. My wife donated them a box of peppermint tea for her the other week as she has in all my churches. Yesterday a cup was poured for her without her asking! We are part of them! Yesterday was communion and I felt a strong urge in me to receive. I’ve not been part of a church receiving at length since before I went to college 25 years ago. I told someone last night that Hailsham as a temporary home, a vibrant community and the welcome of its church is a gift from God at the moment as life is tough. 

Communion for me is a comfort and a renewing to live life again in the light of being loved held in the overwhelming love of Christ for me. I’ve been feeling rough and yesterday it really helped. I’m aware as a presbyter how when my congregations kneel in front of me there is there a mixture of pastoral need. Everybody comes as they are wanting help. 

Roger, the minister at Hailsham, reminded us of the late Rev John Munsey Turner, his liturgy tutor in college. John was also my Methodist history tutor at Hartley, an eccentric man you will never forget! He said all you need to know about the mystery of the Eucharist is to be found in two verses of Charles Wesley’s hymn:

Come, Holy Ghost, your influence shed,
and realise the sign;
your life infuse into the bread,
your pwer into the wine.

Effectual let the tokens prove
and made, by heavenly art,
fit channels to convey your love
to every faithful heart.

Where do you find certainty when all feels uncertain? By holding on to the promises you know. The 2nd of February was Candlemas, a lovely festival ending the Epiphany season. The elderly Simeon had waited for ages, believing that God would one day break into the world in a way that would bless everyone. He wasn’t expecting a baby, but on seeing the promise, he was able to find that peace he had yearned for all his life. I love his prayer is sung at evensong every night. The light has come. We hold on to that light especially when it feels dark. We reach out for certainty when we aren’t sure which way to go.

So much as I write this is uncertain. I don’t understand Brexit. Sad individual I am I bought myself a book on Saturday! Are we really going to leave the EU on March 29 with no deal? This week I see the thoracic consultant at Eastbourne hospital to get the results of all his tests and scans and hopefully plan where we are going. I’m frightened! I want answers.

 It’s easy to think I’m uncared for and alone when I forget wallowing in my lot, the certainties around me, the love when I’m a horrible pain of my lovely wife, without who these last five months and a bit would have been even more hellish, the care of friends who send me notes, words in a Circuit magazine really kind about what I give they are missing, a visit from my colleagues last Friday enabling me to laugh, and a safe space in Hailsham to restore my confidence in the Church after a really damaging time. 

How do we find certainty in uncertainty? We went to the Parish Church last night. They were having an informal service on what we know about God when we suffer. Rory, the assistant priest, in his prayers asked that the promises we know might marinate in us. I liked that phrase a lot. Let what we know marinate in us. Hold on tight to what is certain. I don’t know what the consultant will say on Tuesday, I don’t know how long my GP will say I’m not fit for work when I see her on Thursday, I don’t know where we will be moving to when we have to leave Hailsham in May. But I believe whatever we will be alright because God has a bigger picture for our good. So perhaps remembering love and communion and fellowship I need to know those things and not fret so much about what as yet I don’t know.  Like Jasper who lies in the sun, I just have to enjoy wherever it is good and trust the rest will be sorted in time. 

I cannot tell how He will win the nations,
  How He will claim His earthly heritage,
How satisfy the needs and aspirations
  Of east and west, of sinner and of sage.
But this I know, all flesh shall see His glory,
  And He shall reap the harvest He has sown,
And some glad day His sun shall shine in splendour 
  When He the Saviour, Saviour of the world, is known.

What do you know that is certain? Hold on to it!