How will it end?

We have, after a very long and tiring journey arrived on Holy Island. After three months now of being laid aside from my ministry actively and another six weeks at least stlll signed off, I’ve realised how much this time has hit me mentally. I’m struggling and I need some time to have some space away from sorting our stuff in our temporary home and from endless medical appointments. There is no better place than here to do that especially when the tide is in and it goes amazingly quiet. 

Today is the last week of the church liturgical year when we are encouraged to think seriously about how things will end. Does a belief in Christ mean anything? 

“How is it going to end?” is a real question for many people today. 

“How is Brexit going to end?” We have a deal which now Mrs May needs to get through Parliament. How is it going to end if she is defeated? 

“How will a television programme I’ve invested time in trying to follow going to end?” I’ve tried to keep up with The Little Drummer Girl on a Sunday night. I don’t really understand it but I hang in there. 

“How will my current problems end?” Pastorally people wait for endings, a test result, a cry for relief in unspeakable pain, a letter from the DWP after a benefits assessment, there are many examples. I wonder how things will end up for me. I am physically not much better, I go for a walk and am shattered, I have conversations with people and am shattered. I am in the middle of tests and scans and hospital appointments and am now under the care unexpectedly of two consultants and await the results of the barrage of stuff they have called for urgently, to come. I don’t know the end. Where will we be living after the rental time on our temporary home in Hailsham comes to an end? I don’t know the end to that, either! 

Today, in church, we were reminded through readings from the apocalyptic parts of the Bible that the end with God will be a positive one. Christ will return in glory and his Kingdom will come. We sang mighty hymns like “Lo he comes with clouds descending” and “Rejoice the Lord is King” (No trump of God in the Anglican book and no mighty organ bit after the last verse - how I missed Clifford Foster today!) Words all about the end and no need to worry about it.

But we do worry about it!! I didn’t vote to come out of the EU and I am worried how it will end. I know people as I write this whose life circumstances mean they are paralysed in grief and fear and they don’t need Christian platitudes saying “pray harder it will all be okay, dear.” I am scared of the results of my scans because they may have long term implications for me health wise. I want to know where we wlll be living next year as the Central Sussex United Area need their manse back by June at the latest. How do we live not knowing our own personal ends but focussing on the end the preacher tells us about? How do we keep faith with the long term view? 

Kate, the preacher here on the Island this morning reminded us we make our own ends. If we believe the Kingdom has come and will come how we make it a reality in our world matters. If we believe the Kingdom might come we will be apathetic, but if we believe it will come and is come we live in the light of that reality, even in our uncertainty. 

This morning a small but devoted group of Christians became church and together here they heard the story and hopefully were encouraged through the liturgy to live positively this week as though they believe it! I was glad to be part of them. We’ve been coming here for many years now. This place puts us back together. A lady after the service told us she is tired in old age of being told to “take care” but rather she wants now to “take risks” and “have some fun!” I liked her a lot. It’s easy to wallow but even in hardship and uncertainty we hold on to what we know and we live in the light of that. 

I received communion this morning for the first time in three months. It was powerful to hold my hands out to take the elements in a church that is my spiritual home. I have prayed in it, I met my wife worshipping together in it, I have cried in it, we had our marriage blessing in it, and today I lit some candles for a friend who is in pain after losing her husband suddenly this week. In bread and wine today I seemed to be told even in your not knowing, you know more than you realise, the broken Christ is with you and gets it, and we hold on together for you know what, crucifixion doesn’t have the last word and nor does my illness, at least not having peace in it. I remember Cuthbert and his faith, even his time he needed to contemplate life away from the parish on his island and I remember the faithfulness of his followers who in persecution later carried his body to Durham where it now rests. 

So I don’t know the end but I do know the end! 

Yes I want to be able to do more physically, I want to be back in my churches, I can’t believe that I am unable to do Christmas, I don’t trust politicians and I ache for my fellow human beings today who hurt. But I live believing one day it wlll be different. Doing the liturgy, living faithfully, holding on to the certain, making a difference pastorally to people, and as Wesley found in uncertainty preaching faith until you have it are all vital. 

I nicked the liturgy from today and hold on to this prayer: 

God the Father, help us to hear the call of Christ the King and to follow in his service whose kingdom has no end, for he reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, one glory. Amen. 

Tonight I am hoping for a good end.