Here is not your forever place...

I have been yearning for a retreat day to help me focus. I’m still dealing with stuff from my recent past, and I’m needing to think about the future. I miss leading regular quiet days and some lucky Circuit will get these from me as part of my ministry from next September! 

Today I’ve been given an unexpected gift. I saw on the District Facebook page last weekend a labyrinth day and playing with fabrics and textiles to be held today in a church in our Circuit. I told Lis about it thinking it was her thing. I was persuaded to do the morning myself as it was walking the labyrinth then the plan was  I’d leave her for the afternoon bit to do painting and craft. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be there at all! 

But God gave me a big surprise. This morning, walking the vast labyrinth on the floor of our Marshland Church was a huge spiritual opening to an amazing day really... 

The two ministers who came to facilitate the day guided us into walking Isaiah 43 verses 1 and 2:

43 But now, this is what the Lord says—
    he who created you, Jacob,
    he who formed you, Israel:
“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
    I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
2 When you pass through the waters,
    I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
    they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
    you will not be burned;
    the flames will not set you ablaze.

I’ve always found these verses powerful at time of feeling vulnerable. The amazing fact is in deep water and blazing fire we walk through them safely. Why? Because we are God’s, who has created us and redeemed us and his power and care are more than the elements, which at the time we face them we feel will overwhelm us. 

I took nearly an hour to walk the labyrinth. It was moving to walk it in silence respecting my other companions on the journey going a different way: Jackie, Lesley, Wendy, Sally, Hilary and Lis. A phrase stayed with me as I went into the centre from the accompanying booklet:

“Here is not your forever place.”

“Here is not your forever place.” I’m struggling not being in full time active ministry, partly because early in this recuperative year, my recovery is somewhat better and faster than anyone could have imagined. But I’m grateful that hard work, really hard work to get better has brought me this far, and I’m so grateful to the staff and congregations of The Fens Circuit for giving me opportunity to be and regain confidence amongst them. But I’m yearning to be back doing more and today God said as I entered this walk: that will come, rejoice in the now, it isn’t forever. “Here is not your forever place” physically, mentally, spiritually, you’ve made a fab start. Be encouraged as you journey. 

I walked slowly to the centre and then out again into the world where water and fire are constant obstacles. Over the last eighteen months I’ve nearly drowned and I’ve been burnt through circumstances I at one point didn’t think I’d get through. I was a depressed, miserable sod, stuck in the manse in Hailsham towards the end of last year with no energy and no drive. And I had to be pulled out of that by good people. 

I came out of the labyrinth giving my worries to God who says “fear not.” Every day! 365 times in the Bible! What to do next? I had intended doing jobs this afternoon and returning to pick Lis up at 4pm, but there was a strong pull in me to go walking and chat to God a bit with space and while others painted and played with fabric, I might form some words. 

I found myself on the deserted beach beside The Wash at Snettisham. Just me on it. It was bracing. I used a walk to give my worries to the God who made some pretty big promises on the labyrinth walk! I wanted to say to this God “Okay then mate, what are you going to do with them?”

I’m petrified about entering the stationing process. This next Circuit needs to be right for so many reasons. I need to flourish and have fun in ministry again. 

I was expecting a difficult e mail in response to one I had to write and as I walked dreaded its consequences. 

I am in disbelief about our government and the bear pit we saw in the House of Commons on Wednesday evening. The hatred being whipped up over Brexit and extremism has now reached frightening levels. 

If “here is not your forever place” I need to be shown the possibilities of a new one that might be one of shalom, respect and laughter over lies and accusation. It feels the world just wants to pick a fight until you just give in if you are being got at. Or is that just me?

So I offered all this stuff to God on the beach...

Then three amazing things happened: 

I went for some lunch. While there one of my friends in ministry chatted to me on Messenger about the stationing process. Her words to me were an answer to my prayers in the labyrinth and on the beach: that I have much to offer a new church and a new church can care for us too. I needn’t be frightened. 

I then went to look round Terrington St John Church. While in there, it struck me that for centuries people have been coming into little churches in villages like this and offering their lives to God. 

When we come to worship together we are saying to God move us from this place to another: from fear to confidence, and from despair to hope. 

I felt in the silence of this place surrounded by many who have gone before and have been faithful. The saints of God called by name. I laughed as even negotiating the way to the toilet was an illustration that sometimes the journey is through dark places!!

But God had even more to show me as my day of quiet ended. I am finding the Fen skies quite overwhelming. As I drove through Tilney Fen End (what a great name) the sky in the distance got darker and darker. In these parts, you can see the weather coming. I parked on a bridge and took some amazing pictures:

And then, well, arriving back in Marshland St James, it pelted with rain and then came the most amazing rainbow. 

Remember on the arduous journey Noah and his family and assorted animals took, on a smelly ark that they never thought they’d get off, the rainbow was a sign of God’s covenant that the earth would never again be destroyed. 

Despite what we do to ourselves this is God’s promise: when planet church doesn’t live up to her calling, when we face uncertainty on all fronts; when we face the Methodist dating agency of stationing where job, home, life, everything we know is up in the air for a while; when we are intimidated and bullied by people who are in the wrong but won’t climb down; when politics becomes unfunny and deeply dangerous; when we just don’t think we can cope... God says “Here is not your forever place.” Look and see and trust.

And well, let God have the last word. Where did I see the rainbow? Look!!!

I went this morning like John Wesley “very unwillingly” to a labyrinth thing. I felt peace and calm, I was given space, I took some time, I met albeit only on social media but I met with a friend I trust who had the right words, I encountered God in an ancient church and on a beach and I ended up on Hope Lane. How about that for a day of surprises. 

“Here is not your forever place.” If you are reading this and where you are isn’t good or you are struggling, then just take time, live a day at a time, keep prayer alive and companions with you, God will come as you walk to him and take him from the centre of your being out wherever you are meant to be. Fear not! You matter! I have called you by name you are mine...

God of the journey, thank you for the things you invite us to which we think we won’t really enjoy but then when we try them you come and surprise us. 

God of the twists and turns of life, help us to keep going when we face indescribable difficulty and we don’t think we can do this anymore. 

God of the bigger picture, thank you for places which help us refocus: for deserted beaches, the sound of birdsong, the gentle ebb and flow of waves, churches that are open for us to connect to a long story of your faithfulness.

God who calls, we give you our uncertainty. We share with you our difficult stuff, the places we would rather not be in, the madness of the world and this flipping Brexit mess which is causing much damage. 

God of reassurance, move us on, finding you, let us travel with you, abiding in you, let us be more certain, seeing the rainbow, may we know you have all things under control and we will not be destroyed. Here is not, with you, our forever place. 

In Jesus name, Amen.

 

Struggling together

What do husbands do when the wife has her colours done and they have three hours to spare?

Pay 50p for the King’s Lynn Maritime Trail and have a fab time walking back into history. It struck me as I went back into maritime stories here how the community would have been important. There was clearly a lot of wealth here in Nelson’s day, and I imagine the poor were very poor. I imagine the rich merchants kicking the poor hard or ignoring them. The poor would have needed each other to survive. 

For some reason, I’m led to put together a service of worship for next Sunday on encouragement. When times are hard we need to encourage each other; when community celebrates it celebrates together, when we are feeling rough, we need someone to stand by us to remind us we matter. 

I love this which someone posted earlier today: 

Today was a Difficult Day," said Pooh.

There was a pause.

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Piglet.

"No," said Pooh after a bit. "No, I don't think I do."

"That's okay," said Piglet, and he came and sat beside his friend.

"What are you doing?" asked Pooh.

"Nothing, really," said Piglet. "Only, I know what Difficult Days are like. I quite often don't feel like talking about it on my Difficult Days either.

"But goodness," continued Piglet, "Difficult Days are so much easier when you know you've got someone there for you. And I'll always be here for you, Pooh."

And as Pooh sat there, working through in his head his Difficult Day, while the solid, reliable Piglet sat next to him quietly, swinging his little legs...he thought that his best friend had never been more right.

I offer four pictures that led me to reflect on our need to encourage each other and struggle together and laugh together...

The first, above, is from last Sunday at the community centre in Tydd St Giles. The little community we’ve attached ourselves to for this time in The Fens Circuit, found out the other week their chapel cannot be used anymore. They met on Sunday in the community centre but they’ve been encouraged as the Parish Church have told them they can have the lady chapel as their new home. They’ve been encouraged as people have been so kind in an hour of need. We spoke to the vicar on Saturday. She is very happy for this arrangement to flourish. I was struck as we shared Harvest by the verse in a frame brought from the chapel: “Wherever two or three are gathered...” An example of building each other up.

I felt included in this little community as I shared in a Last of the Summer Wine sketch as our wives wouldn’t hurry up:

Man 1 (me): “Do you find you wait for ages to your wife to come?”

Man 2: “Yes, and I find when it isn’t my fault,it is my fault.”

Man 1: “I’ve learnt that!”

Man 3: “My wife can talk for England and for Wales!” 

At which point this male banter ended as one of the wives approached! 

How does our faith encourage us? On Sunday night we took the opportunity to see the Gaia  earth before it was taken down. Canon Sarah led us in a powerful reflection on the cross and the world. The crucifix at the heart of the cathedral reminds us that while the earth turns, the cross stands, through inhumanity, through Brexit, through things I don’t get. The Christ who suffers, encourages me to keep going. I am never alone! 

We need to be encouraged rather than put down in life. We need to know it will be okay to go forward. We have three new rescue cats living with us. Velvet needs to know it is safe to come out of the study; Bella, dumped and deprived of love, needs to know security.

We need to encourage more before we put down. After reading this, who will you say one word of encouragement to today? It could make a huge difference. So I’ll end these random early morning thoughts with Marianne Williamson: 

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

 

Seeking the lost

I love this picture. I took it while on sabbatical in Shetland in 2016. Sheep out for a walk! I’m putting a service together for Sunday morning and the bible passages are all about getting lost and helping lost things be found. Sheep are notorious for running off and getting lost and it takes the owner of the sheep a long, painful search to find the one who has gone astray. 

I’m leading worship for the third time in The Fens Circuit on Sunday morning, this time a communion service in a church where the congregation will be probably four people, in a vast Victorian building and two of them will be sitting on the back row in the corner! I thought we’d have a reflective table of things we lose and I’d write a liturgy about seeking and finding. We will see what emerges as my thoughts develop. 

What sort of things do we lose? Here’s my list:

Keys - why don’t I just put keys in a box rather than throw them down somewhere? 

My winter coat - today is rather autumnal and I couldn’t find my warmer coat this morning so I ended up buying another one at lunchtime being so cold.

Clerical collars - I throw them off then get in a state when I can’t find any half an hour before I need to leave the house on a Sunday morning. 

The way - why do the roads in the Fens all look the same? It’s easy to get lost without the sat nav on.

Important things from the Circuit I’ve just left - my study is still full of boxes and I need to find stuff that needs returning. The deeds to a manse were missing. I’ve found them but I’m still searching for a baptismal register! 

Glasses - I can never find my glasses. I need glasses on to find my glasses!

Socks - why is it you put two socks of the same colour in the washing machine and one of them then disappears? 

Bic biros - why is it you buy a new pack of Bic biros and then can’t find any of them a week later? 

Cats - we have three new rescue cats who are all youngsters. They are fast on their feet. The room with the fire escape in had the door to the fire escape open the other day and little Alice went out to explore then started wailing as she didn’t know where she was. 

The Bible in Luke chapter 15 talks of lost coins and lost sheep. One little coin, perhaps worth a fortune to the woman desperately searching for it;  one little sheep lost out in the cold, breaking the heart of the one who is responsible for its care as it has got away. Like we get stressed when that key we need now or that pair of glasses we need now can’t be found, we aren’t at peace until the lost is found.

How does it feel to be lost? Perhaps we get frightened, paralysed, feel totally alone, we cannot function, we go into a panic because what we need to function, either a thing, or a way out, is not there. We cannot save ourselves so we need help. The coin is lost without help, the sheep is lost without help. The sat nav on the phone gets me out of trouble when I’m over confident I can find the way to the doctor in Parson Drove without  help. We need when searching for something, a calm, systematic search rather than a mad panic!! That’s how I’m looking for things my former colleague Tricia, now Superintendent of the Circuit, needs like yesterday. 

There are lost people in the world tonight. I’m in London writing this watching people trudge home after work. Many feel lifeless, lost, directionless, life is one big stress. The journey is wayward rather than easy. And what about our government? Those who disagree with Boris are booted out, we may have an election, we may be leaving the EU on October 31 or not, no deal appears to be against the law now, there is little trust, whether you voted leave or remain, in our government. And today the speaker has resigned. It’s a directionless mess. Parliament has been perrouged tonight with a lot of important stuff lost now.   We need strong leadership, but not a dictator. Not that I’m allowed to call the present shambles that! 

We need a God who keeps searching until we are found. The coin in the dark recesses and the silly sheep stuck in bramble need pastoral care now. The people in our society who need “finding” are an urgent call on our time and priorities. Those with depression, abused, the lonely, the ones no one gets, have to be at the top of our priorities if the Church really says she cares. The service of  ordination for ministers includes the charge to seek the lost. The charge of the Church should be the heart of the Gospel following the example of Jesus, with the likes of the blind man by the side of the road, a despised tax collector shunned by everyone who he’d wronged and a woman ostracised as she was riddled with bleeding, a Jesus who seeks and saves the lost. 

The Church today, in my opinion, seems to be spending endless energy on keeping going with little energy to reach out to the lost who are desperate. I learnt some time ago of a church where a homeless man slept on their steps by the front door overnight prior to a Sunday morning service thinking he might find help when people arrived. Alas many of the good Christian people arrived, saw him, avoided the front door and used the back door, hoping he might just go away. Lord, have mercy.

To be lost is a horrific experience. I’ve been there. To lose what I cherished has been the worst trauma of my life. To be so unwell has been so difficult. Today I’ve finished three months of counselling with the fabulous Simon in Islington who has helped me journey from feeling totally lost and bereft to being found and with a purpose again. The Fens Circuit have also helped me enormously as we’ve got amongst them over the last three months. 

I walked past St Paul’s Cathedral this afternoon. It is a fact that people are wandering into sacred space to find some direction. They aren’t, in the main, interested in commitment of planet Church, but there is a searching within them to find something more. We need to open our churches more! Not with helter skelters or crazy golf courses, like some cathedrals recently, but to simply offer sacred space and silence to think

about direction. Peterborough has had the Gaia earth in it over recent weeks. I’ve found it powerful. While the earth turns (lost) the cross stands.

The Son of Man came to seek and save that what was lost. The call on us today. The most urgent pastoral need round our isolated churches is in people who simply need to know they are in the fold. If we are spending our energy on anything else, then we fail. We need to change the world today! 

 Are we lost for ever? That isn’t the Christian message! I usually take a book with me on a Monday on the train and today’s is by one of my spiritual heroines Barbara Brown Taylor:

“ On her deathbed about six hundred years ago, Dame Julian of Norwich received a series of visits from her crucified Lord. He stood at the foot of her bed and consoled her, saying, “All shall we well, and all manner of things shall be well. “

“ That is, in the end, the message that the cross calls us to believe without knowing how or why: that come hell or high water; come affliction and hardship; persecution, hunger, nakedness, peril or sword, come whatever may; nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord, who has promised us that everything, finally, all shall be well.”

(God in Pain,  Barbara Brown Taylor, Canterbury Press, 2018)