Small kindnesses

This powerful poem has been doing the rounds this week. It reminds us that life can be better when we all do our bit, however small, to remind another they matter. 

It reminded me of a verse in the Old Testament from the prophet Zechariah.

Five centuries before Jesus was born, the Israelites returned from exile to find Jerusalem in ruins and the temple destroyed. With great enthusiasm they set about rebuilding it. However, Zerubbabel the governor, got little farther than laying the foundation before opposition set in. Neighbours fought the project tooth and nail, finally succeeding in getting a restraining order to halt construction.  Enemies mocked. Supporters became discouraged. For years the site stood silent.

Failure. Zerubbabel felt like a failure. There were plenty of other things to do. Zerubbabel set to work building his own wood-paneled home. But his grand dream had fizzled.

I like what this website has to say about him:

“He was probably like the rest of us when failure looms. What little self-confidence we have ebbs away. We seal ourselves from more pain by denial. We meet further effort with skepticism. We protect ourselves from getting our hopes too high again. We look at the ground rather than the sky, at the past rather than the future.

And then one day a man of God, Zechariah, began to speak words that pierced Zerubbabel to the heart and filled him with fresh hope: "This is the word of the Lord to Zerubbabel," came the message. "Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord Almighty." Zerubbabel could feel his heart pounding as the message continued. "What are you, O mighty mountain? Before Zerubbabel you will become level ground. Then he will bring out the capstone to shouts of 'God bless it! God bless it!' The hands of Zerubbabel have laid the foundation of this temple, his hands will also complete it" (Zechariah 4:6-7).

The project had seemed like an immovable mountain, Zerubbabel thought. But now with God at work he knew he could finish the temple.

The final words of the prophecy jolted him. "Do not despise the day of small things. Men will rejoice when they see the plumb line in the hand of Zerubbabel" (vs. 10). How weak, how insignificant, how naive he had been. Yet, in spite of all that, God had been in those beginnings.”

How often our efforts are mocked by those who think big is beautiful. We can get so discouraged we don't even want to try again. But God delights in taking the insignificant and making something out of it. Down through history we can see the pattern

• Five smooth stones that felled the giant Goliath (1 Samuel 17), 
• The handful of meal and a jar of oil that sustained a widow through years of famine (2 Kings 4:1-7), 
• Five barley loaves and a couple fish that fed a multitude (Matthew 14:13-21), and 
• The mustard seed Jesus said would become a great tree for birds to find shelter (Matthew 13:31-32). 

What little thing, what dream, what false start, have we despised? Our small church? 

"Not by might, not by power, but my Spirit says the Lord Almighty" (Zechariah 4:6).

I keep thinking about the small churches round here. I returned my books to the book cafe at Murrow yesterday. One of the folk from the church was worrying she had to be steward on Sunday because Eric is away. I think there might be only two of them there on Sunday. She told me it’s sad no one comes. I’m not their minister, I’m not the minister of anywhere (!) but if I was, I’d want to ask what do they do well and why don’t they do more of it. They let out their hall to a book cafe and a knitting group and they have a stall once a month to raise funds for the church to keep it going — but I can see without encouragement, they could get demoralised. What small thing do we build on? 

I think the key is to celebrate what we are and not worry what we are not. Hailsham Methodist Church does pastoral care through giving away Care Bears to those who need some support; some churches have found new life through community usage in the week. My former churches at Empingham and at Pett have found putting a post office in their hall has made a huge difference. Other little places are growing through doing the small things, small acts of kindness, well. We’ve decided to settle for the next year at the little chapel at Tydd St Giles because the six members there made us feel welcome. Doing the small basics well. 

Doing the basics well I believe will lead to growth. Our cats are demanding! Mrs Wife is sitting next to me pondering getting a fifth or sixth! Dear God!! If I feed them, love them, talk to them, they are fine. It’s the same with church: preachers present the Gospel so we can understand it; we are made to feel welcome; we are not ignored, the basics aren’t difficult! Small things like a “how are you?” or a smile or being given a hymn book, helps! I’m sad when churches burn out or yearn for the old days when everything was perfect. Get your small kindnesses right and you don’t know what might happen...

After all, the sacred truth is this. Jesus took small things and turned them into something sacramental. A piece of bread and a cup of wine; twelve ordinary men; a simple conversation on a road; a routine execution turned into God’s means of salvation. As the Dali Larma has said : 

“My religion is very simple. My religion is kindness.”

“In difficult times, it’s important to hold on to something sustaining, like a sparkling crystal in the darkness, like the sweetness of stroking a cat or a dog. Take every opportunity to make life easier, lighter.” So suggests Jordan B. Peterson in “12 rules for life, an antidote to chaos.” Perhaps doing something small reminds us of the preciousness of life. 

So tonight I guess I’m commending doing small things well: making people feel they are wanted, doing what we can, making a difference to our part of the world. One small act of kindness today can make a huge difference. One reminder by someone to us doing the basics of Christian care can undo so much damage. We are called to be kind - always.

Psalm 19 in Fenland

 

It was good to return home tonight after a long day. The skies in the Fens are amazing. Psalm 19 came to mind:

Psalm 19 King James Version (KJV)  The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork When God paints the sky, you are seeing the Master Designer in action, and for a moment in time, you are catching a glimpse of His glory. It’s right there before our very eyes. Day after day. One of the greatest defenses of the faith — God’s creation. David, the man after God’s own heart, found great solace in God at work in creation —  The heavens proclaim the glory of God. The skies display His craftsmanship. Day after day they continue to speak; night after night they make Him known. They speak without a sound or word; their voice is never heard. Yet their message has gone throughout the earth, and their words to all the world. God has made a home in the heavens for the sun. It bursts forth like a radiant bridegroom after his wedding. It rejoices like a great athlete eager to run the race. The sun rises at one end of the heavens and follows its course to the other end. Nothing can hide from its heat. Psalm 19:1-6 NLT

Travelling on

I’ve always loathed the hymn “One more step along the world I go” but we have travelled this week from “the old things to the new” and we’ve needed in finally laying down our previous life to know we don’t journey alone. 

I was sent this card today! I haven’t retired! It transpires that the church that sent it meant it for my former colleague who IS retiring a week on Sunday. She will probably get one which says “welcome to your new home” or something! But I think some people don’t quite get what being without appointment means. I haven’t retired nor have I left the church as someone on Saturday thought.

It was harder than I thought it would be to finally let go of the South East. We spent a week around hospital appointments and my farewell exploring the area for the last time. We enjoyed a sunny afternoon in Bexhill as Lis had never done the De La Warr Pavilion and we also enjoyed exploring Rudyard Kipling’s home at Batemans which has been on my list of “must go there” places for ages. Sometimes we neglect to enjoy what is on our doorstep.

My farewell on Saturday was a deeply moving and emotional occasion. People said some overwhelmingly lovely things which I did not deserve. It was lovely, after 11 months away to see people again. For a while, it felt like I was back to stay. The steward of one of my churches said after telling me stuff “oh sorry - we are talking to you like you are still our minister.” The feeling of wanting to stay was huge! But circumstances left me with no option but to go. It’s all been very sad. 

We’ve been really glad while down in Sussex for a safe space of retreat and peace as we needed down time in between difficult stressful stuff. This little annexe by a nursery and farm shop was a gift to us. When we travel through difficult waters, we need a safe place to come home to. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about pilgrimage and sudden journeys over the last few days. We are always on the move. I’m having to go to London on Mondays at the moment. After my meeting this week, I decided to do some walking and see what I might learn on the journey.

I called in on Wesley’s Chapel. There were people in there praying, others stopping to learn the story of how God’s grace was shared in a new and exciting way through John Wesley and early Methodism. People from all over the world on Monday afternoon pausing the journey to reflect.

I walked past Parliament. What a mess we’re in at the moment. I still find it scary that in a weeks time Boris Johnson is highly likely to be our Prime 

Minister. Do politicians care or understand people’s journey? 

I walked past Churchill. In a time of uncertainty and dark forces, we need direction and hope. I imagine in war time hearing his rhetoric gave people listening round the radio great hope. We need when the travelling is hard someone who believes in the destination. 

I walked into Victoria station at the height of rush hour. People rushing to get their train to get home after a hard day’s work. People always on the move. I sat in a bar as my ticket didn’t let me get on a train until after 7. A homeless man from Manchester came and joined me. We shared stories of Manchester. He had had a rough time. He didn’t want anything from me but to be noticed. We spent 20 minutes together sharing our common experience of a city we love. He thanked me for my time and went on his way. When the journey is tough, we just need someone to recognise that we just might need some support to keep going.

So tonight I’m back in the Fens, back in my new home, back to begin to do some ministry in a new context, I haven’t retired nor have I been made to move. I’m adapting and grateful for the welcome we’ve received here so far.  It will all be okay. The cats’ story needs to be mine. They’ve had their first holiday in a new cattery and have had a lovely time. They look the most content they’ve ever looked. We have journied to this point. We name our hurt in losing stuff, we acknowledge what has been, we count our blessings as we look to the future. And we turn to God when it all feels too much...

I come back tonight to my favourite words of Thomas Merton which are a comfort and I look at my staircase wall with reminders given to me of Hastings and of Rye and I offer the journey ahead to God..

My Lord God,  I have no idea where I am going.  I do not see the road ahead of me.  I cannot know for certain  it will end.  Nor do I really know myself,  and the fact that I think that I am following  your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.  But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.  And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.  I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.  And I know that if I do this, you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.  Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me,  and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.   Amen.

 

A farewell sermon..

I’ve been asked to share the words I felt led to offer to my former Circuit as I bade farewell to them earlier. I shall never forget the kind words about my ministry and the fact lots of people didn’t want me to leave... 

I’m overwhelmed by the numbers of you who’ve come this afternoon. Thank you.

The last 11 months since I had any contact with most of you have been for both of us extremely difficult.

Both of us have been unwell with terrible breathing difficulties. For me, to have a long period unable to speak without coughing; unable to walk far without going violently hot, and unable to do anything without feeling shattered afterwards has been tough. We are both turning the corner - I’m now only under two hospital consultants - it was four. 

I remain deeply deeply sad I have to leave this Circuit - I don’t want to go, but circumstances meant I had no choice but to make that decision. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.  In 11 months away and even after curtailment I want you all to know we haven’t stopped caring about you.  

I don’t want this afternoon to be about me but about you. I want you to think about your call to be a Circuit, responding to God’s invitation to be faithful. 

Three invitations... 

First the invitation to be God’s people, God’s people building the Kingdom not merely the church..

When life gets you - those times of uncertainty and vulnerability all of us in this room have faced at some point when we’ve felt we cannot cope, we need the invitation to come to God with all of that stuff.

 We need direction as the answer to our prayers if we have the strength to pray at all...

The late Dave Allen used to tell this story: 

I was on my way to Limerick and I said to this fella do you know where this place is? And he said, “Ahh yes. Ahh yes. Oh God yes. Now go down the road, straight down the road just follow your nose. Ahh keep going straight and you’ll see a turn on the right-hand side. Now ignore that. And then there’s a second turn on the right-hand side and ignore that one as well. There’s two, three, four, five. Five turns on the right-hand side, ignore them. Then you see a house on the left-hand side, turn left there. That’s where you want to go.” And I said why did you tell me about all the right hand turns? Why didn’t you just say take the first on the left? And he said “Who’s giving these directions, me or you.”

The direction we are invited to share is less complicated than Dave Allen’s Irishman gave.

“O come, let us sing for joy to the Lord, let us shout joyfully to the rock of our salvation. Let us come before His presence with thanksgiving, let us shout joyfully to Him with psalms.” 

O come let us sing for joy to the Lord, an invitation to share joy. An invitation to remember our blessings and to say thank you. An invitation to put worship at the heart of the Hastings Bexhill and Rye Circuit agenda, thinking, and planning. Worship of God should be our priority and our motivation to keep going. 

What’s concerning you at the moment? Money, falling numbers, maintaining buildings?  

Some of you have called me naive over the last seven years for saying this but I’ll say it one last time and then go —- put worship, singing for joy to the Lord first then all your other problems will sort. I’ve been put back together through corporate worship. Lis will tell you over tea for several months last autumn I would make every excuse under the sun not to go to church on a Sunday morning. I couldn’t be bothered to go. She dragged me into the church at Hailsham one Sunday and denied being with you, that congregation let me be and gently encouraged me. Most of them never knew I was a minister, until I shared in a service in May there. I needed to come back. O come let us sing for joy to the Lord. 

Then secondly, the invitation to do our best. I chose as our Gospel reading Jesus invitation to ordinary folk like us to follow him. The disciples went as they were. Jesus saw huge potential in them. They didn’t always get it right. And sometimes Jesus got really miffed with them. I just want to say use your gifts and celebrate them. In our seven years together, you’ve worked hard on opening churches to serve your communities,  through new drop ins, book cafes, good quality well managed premises, wildlife gardens, Flower Festivals, engagement with schools and nursing homes:  the list is long.  Messy Churches have grown, ecumenical co operation where it works has grown, some of you have made brave decisions to do things differently, and we’ve done some good stuff studying missiology and spirituality together. We cannot do everything, else we burn out. We are called to do those things we do well, really well. We are called to do our best as a response to the amazing grace of God.

 I always use these words in my last service in a Circuit. You weren’t meant to hear them until 2022, they are words of Oscar Romero: 

It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view.

The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, 

it is even beyond our vision.

We accomplish in our lifetime

only a tiny fraction

of the magnificent enterprise

that is God's work.

Nothing we do is complete,

which is another way of saying

that the Kingdom always lies beyond us.

No statement says all that could be said.

No prayer fully expresses our faith.

No confession brings perfection.

No pastoral visit brings wholeness.

No programme

accomplishes the Church's mission.

No set of goals and objectives

includes everything.

That is what we are about.

We plant a seed that will one day grow.

We water seeds already planted,

knowing that they hold future promise.

We lay foundations

that will need further development.

We provide yeast that produces effects

far beyond our capabilities.

We cannot do everything,

and there is a sense of liberation

in realising that.

This enables us to do something,

and to do it very well.

It may be incomplete,

but it is a beginning,

a step along the way,

an opportunity for the Lord's grace

to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results,

but that is the difference

between the master builder and the worker.

We are workers, not master builders,

ministers, not messiahs.

We are prophets of a future not our own.

The invitation to do our best. What are you good at? Rejoice in it and keep doing it. If I in some way in this time have planted seeds or laid foundations then my being here, whatever difficulties there have been, will have been worth it.

Then finally the invitation to just be faithful. 

Psalm 95 has this warning to us: “Today, if you hear His voice, do not harden your hearts.” Part of the Psalm is an illustration of Israel in the wilderness as a people who hardened their hearts against God. 

It ends suddenly with God’s frightening warning  “Therefore I swore in My anger, truly they shall not enter into My rest.” God making it clear if we get our priorities wrong there are dire consequences. So friends keep being faithful, simply that. No matter what the future holds keep being faithful.

 In all your actions, conversations, and when things aren’t as you like, act like you are God’s people, let God’s love direct you.

I find myself after 22 years of circuit ministry without appointment. I have no churches to care for and I’m under the direction of others as I build myself up residing in The Fens Circuit for the next year. I need to be reminded I’m still a child of God, I have gifts to use and to do my best. Albeit in a place I never expected to be. We are getting used to The Fens - the pace of life is slow, the roads all look the same and have great ditches either side of them and a good congregation in some villages is four people! We’ve made them six! And I’ve had to get Hymns and psalms out again.   

You travel on here as a Circuit community, perhaps wondering where you’re going next. Please gather in a few weeks to celebrate Peggy’s eight years with you as she sits down, and as the new church year opens, will you do one thing for me? Will you look after Tricia, your next Superintendent. Thank you. 

As for me, it’s been a huge privilege to serve you. We will both remember you in our prayers. My first steward had a vestry prayer - we thank you for your servant Ian now blot him out. In the end it’s all about God in Christ. Remember the invitation. God bless you. 

Come, let us bow down in worship,

    let us kneel before the Lord our Maker; 

for he is our God

    and we are the people of his pasture,

    the flock under his care.

Thanks be to God.  

Transition: part of life

I’m writing this sitting in my late Mum’s lounge. This morning I was in the solicitor’s office in Harpenden signing the contract as we are close to a sale. In a couple of weeks, this house which has been in my life since birth, will no longer belong to me. 

It hit me as I walked through Harpenden earlier that soon I will have no reason to visit it. I guess we might pass through it or come to visit friends or perhaps be invited to lead worship somewhere but not to have to come will be strange. 

I don’t mind sharing that at the moment I’m having counselling every Monday in London with a lovely gentle man called Simon, to get my head round what has happened over the last year and to try and cope with vast changes professionally and personally. He’s really helping me see that each week I’m making progress as time moves on. Transition, losing home and work and slowly regaining health, or building new relationships takes time. Simon told me today to celebrate that after trauma, I’m doing really well. Every Monday shatters me as I share my story and how I feel. But it’s worth it! 

I’ve felt this past week I’ve made a huge step forward in accepting I’m without appointment and to see this next year and a bit as a gift to build ourselves up to be able to return to a full time post next year. I posted on

Facebook in the week that where we are now feels like home, which is a huge step forward. Like the man lost in Ireland seeking direction was told, “I wouldn’t start from here if I were you” here is where I start to rebuild and I’m very grateful to the folk in The Fens Circuit, who know our story for quietly making us feel welcome. I was told by a Circuit Steward yesterday people are appreciating us popping up at different churches. 

While I don’t have churches to care for this year and a bit, I’m content supporting the ministers in the Circuit and encouraging where I can. We’ve decided to settle at the tiny church at Tydd St Giles as our “home” church while we are here making a congregation of six, eight! 

Yesterday the Circuit held a Circuit Service. I’m really impressed that once a quarter one church stays open in

a morning and all the others close so everyone worships together. It was good to be part of the service yesterday. For the first time I felt I belonged to them. To be able to give people bread was a huge privilege. Communion is part of what makes me tick and to be denied giving it to people has hurt. The service yesterday was great fun. A hymn which had adapted the words to the Proclaimers “I would walk 1000 miles”; the Hollies “he’s not heavy he’s my brother” used as a prayer, the final hymn which I’ve not sung for years: “When the roll is called up yonder I’ll be there”, and the outgoing Superintendent, Sue, dancing round the church with a toy horse during “We are marching in the light of God” —- she had wanted a conga, but there wasn’t room! The service was a bit crazy but I felt good to be there. I guess this week I’ve accepted, however hard it is, we are where we are, and actually, it feels good to be where we are.

Transition is part of life. To stay where we are is boring. To be open to possibilities ahead of us even if we didn’t want to move is spiritually healthy. We can keep going on about the hurt of the past but we need to believe that we even if we want to move, God has more to show us ahead. I’m beginning, after a struggle to believe that.

On Saturday I return to Hastings for my farewell

as their Superintendent. Part of me is really scared about going back but I need to say thank you and acknowledge I’ve moved on. I’m still deeply sad I’ve had to go. I’ve written this to the folk:

“I’m grateful for this opportunity to send greetings to everyone through the pages of Spotlight. Lis and I are very slowly getting better after a horrendous few months since becoming unwell last August. To not be able to breathe without coughing, or speak in public without going violently hot or walk more than a few minutes without feeling absolutely shattered has been very frightening. To not know what the future holds when you find yourself away from all that is precious is not easy. 

To leave an appointment I loved so much has been very painful. I want to say a huge thank you for the privilege of sharing ministry with you for the last seven years, the last five as your Superintendent. We have made real progress together in spirituality, contextual mission and building relationships. You are a Circuit with rich possibility, plenty of resources and with much to celebrate. I’m sad circumstances meant I couldn’t carry on celebrating with you but I will remember you in my prayers as you build on what I’ve tried to do with you alongside Peggy and Tricia over the last few years. 

I now find myself being without appointment for the next year and a bit to build myself up, stationed to The Fens Circuit around the towns of Wisbech and March. Most of this Circuit is very rural and the churches have very small congregations but they keep the faith and as I get better I hope to help them a bit.

Please remember us in your prayers as we promise to remember you.”

I take comfort tonight with mother’s house about to sell and returning to a Circuit I never wanted to leave and still don’t, in the words of the Psalmist, who knew all about transition:

I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.

My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.

He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee will not slumber.

Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.

The Lord is thy keeper: the Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand.

The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night.

The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul.

The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.

In all the transitions of life, we hold on to what we know... 

  

A culture of fear

We live in fearful times. The picture above says it all! I don’t trust Boris Johnson, but I don’t want Jeremy Hunt! The Labour Party is no better - I don’t think Mr Corbyn is PM material. I was heartened by a newspaper article at the weekend which suggested he might be replaced by the autumn by Rebecca Long Bailey. I’ve always liked her, but it may be fake news. The Liberal Democrat Party has a leadership change soon. I’ve nothing against Jo Swinson or Ed Davey but they will always be a small force in a large unattractive scenario. Then there’s the USA! I watch the Democrat candidates with interest: Kamala Harris seems the most switched on, but we seem destined for another Trump term, especially as he smooches North Korea. Lord, have mercy.

I am in London writing this watching people go home after a busy and perhaps stressful working day. Politics aside ordinary people are fearful. Fearful of the future, fearful relationships will end, fearful of the world collapsing through climate change and human selfishness, fearful that they might not have a job soon, one of our potential PMs suggests some businesses going under is a sacrifice we have to make if we have to have a no deal Brexit. People are fearful about health and hope and are getting through each day as best they can but it isn’t rich and full and free really. 

Then there’s the Church! The Methodist Conference is meeting this week in Birmingham. My bugbear with Conference has always been does it really know the story and fear of ordinary congregations who are doing their best to keep going but finding it a struggle? I keep thinking about Murrow Methodist Church, a congregation we met a week on Sunday. There were four in the congregation beside us. They have a sale once a month to raise funds to keep going. The premises are used by community groups like a book cafe and a knit and natter group but the influence of the church is very little. The building needs desparate work doing to it. One of the ladies said to me “ how do we get more people to come?” I hope to help them a bit and two other little churches in our part of the Circuit in my 14 months without appointment. I guess you start healing the fear by thinking what you are strong at. 

I think the answer to fear is to bring love into it. The healing has to began by a reminder of the power of healthy relationships. Yesterday, we were invited to share in the Benefice service in the village in which we are living which was followed by a barbecue and some scrummy puddings. It was really good to meet people, to hear some of the history of the village and to begin to form relationships. I ended the afternoon offering to speak at a ladies group and being invited to a monthly men’s breakfast in the village hall. While we are only in the village until a year in August, we are determined to form relationships. 

The President of Conference, Barbara Glasson shared this story on Saturday:

There was a little church whose membership had got down to single figures. This church had an emergency meeting and began to talk about closure. They decided that they would have one last push at keeping going. They didn’t feel that in the circumstances there was much point writing a huge mission plan, but they made a resolution that they would be ‘welcoming and kind’. The next Sunday, when they arrived for church they found a tent in the graveyard. It was clear that a homeless person had decided to pitch up there and spend the night. Hmmph, thought the Church Steward, this had to be stopped: but before he asked the man to up sticks and move on, he remembered that he was supposed to be welcoming and kind .... so he invited him into the church for a cup of tea.

The very next Sunday was communion, and the small congregation was in the middle of the service, when a strange woman arrived accompanied by her dog. When bread and wine were shared, she came forward for the elements, and so did the dog. This was clearly rather odd and unconventional, but before they took offense they remembered they were supposed to be ‘welcoming and kind’.  Over the next few weeks the homeless man and the woman and the dog all attended worship, to be honest they were a bit of a nuisance and a bit smelly and disruptive. But in time, the church people got to know them and to find out about the hostel that was just across the way ...... and last I heard, some of those church people were popping across the road and getting to know some of the other residents and things were beginning to change. I’m not sure whether that little church kept going, it’s not really the point of the story. The point is that the world changes, lives change when we get back to the simple, costly mandate of faith to love our neighbours and our enemies with the open arms of unconditional love.

The answer to fear has to be relationship!

I am fearful of the future. I don’t want a Boris Johnson government!! I am still struggling having to let go of what was precious to me in my calling. I have a plan dates request form from my Superintendent - a few months ago I was making the plan. I have this morning received stationing information from the lay stationing rep in the East Anglia District for September 2020.... I’m still adapting to being without appointment. And what if the next appointment isn’t right? 

It’s easy to find answers to fear in the wrong places: I’ve had a nice glass of red but some people drink the whole bottle. We lash out when we are under pressure. I’m very aware over the last few months I’ve become not a very nice person. I’m not kind to those closest to me and I’m sorry. I need healing after a period of trauma. I’m grateful to Simon who is helping me each Monday to move on...

I have Joanne Cox-Darling’s book “Finding God in a Culture of Fear” on the go at the moment. It’s really good! She suggests a new way of living beyond our pain of today :

“Hopeful resistance lives gracefully, beautifully, patiently in the present, while striving towards, and actively building, a renewed future. It encourages action, where the world lives in apathy. It challenges meaninglessness with purpose. When the temptation is to live small, cynical, despairing lives, Christian hope is a vocation to speak up, act up, listen up and get up.”

So in fear we hold on! God’s future is more secure then Boris or Trump or the failing church  or even our petty views over who might not be included. The Methodist Conference meeting this week is discussing the Dignity and Worth report on marriage and relationships. I hope we find in our hearts a realisation that God’s way is fully inclusive; Sometimes, the Church causes intense pain. 

Yesterday far away from Church I caught a glimpse of how we might together enjoy life beyond our troubles and seek positivity beyond our pain: I saw it in Kylie at Glastonbury! Kylie is an icon of positivity! The crowd and millions watching at home were joined in for a while thinking life is better; the fear diminished.

We need to focus more on what might be possible and what deep down we know to be true. As the first letter of John reminds us:

“There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.”

Perhaps Joanne Cox Darling’s book has it right: as we look to the future and Boris Johnson, empty churches, uncertainty and crippling worry, all we can do is give all of our “stuff” to the God who knows us, gets it and whose love is all sufficient...

“Hope has nothing to do with us; it has everything to do with God, the life giver, pain bearer, the love maker.” 

I’m finding as I sit on Peterborough station finishing this, waiting for my train to March, a prayer Micky Youngson shared with a Dignity and Worth gathering really helpful:

For the day that has passed:


We give thanks.

For the times when we have been less than loving:


We ask for mercy.

For the things we regret:


We ask for healing.

For the Church that we love:


We ask for transformation.

For all that we hope for:


We ask for the Spirit’s assurance.

Glory to the Father and to the Son


and to the Holy Spirit;


as it was in the beginning is now


and shall be for ever. Amen.

And now, I’m off to buy the new Kylie CD!