Two kinds of church

I was very glad that I was invited to join the Methodist Cities Network some time ago by Ian, the presbyter at Central Hall in Manchester. I guess I’m entitled to join as Ripon is a city. Today we met at the vast listed building which is Central Methodist Church in York and we heard stories of work out of that church in the city, refugee and homeless ministry, making the building greener, a bread church where people come as they are. Rachel Lampard was also with us as Methodism continues to grapple with the call to be a justice seeking Church. 

Before lunch we went on a prayer walk round the city centre remembering women of faith. That was very powerful. And over and over in presentations we heard of our work to be with people not do things for them or to them. The closing devotions led by Graham Jones from the Learning Network summed things up brilliantly. He reminded us that Sam Wells, vicar at St Martin in the Fields off Trafalgar Square says the most important word in the Bible is “with.” God is with us and therefore to live in the light of God is to be with people. People, as Wesley would have put it, who need us most. He then reminded us of Harry Williams who called the Church “agents of resurrection.” In which case, the Church may need to be disturbed and unsettled. Remember God is into rolling stones away and miracles beyond our comprehension. 

I came away inspired and with new friends. I reflected on my own ministry at the moment. The excitement is where we are in partnership with other bodies, where we meet people where they are, and where churches see they can’t do it all and work together either in a circuit or ecumenically to share resurrection hope with people. Simple isn’t it? 

Some of us get it but alas some do not!! 

I went to evening prayer in York Minster. Whilst our District Office is in York, I don’t get into the city centre very often so it was good to have a few hours in the sun dodging tourists with their cameras! Predictive text just wrote dodging Tories before I corrected it. Mind you the last meeting of the Network did a brainstorm on justice seeking and decided Methodists should be banned from reading the Daily Mail, according to a PowerPoint slide put up today! 

The Minster charges big money to get in but you can get in for free for services. But when you get in they watch you. “No photography!” says the sign and then a officious little man herded us into the pews like cattle and then he said to a group of us, “the Psalm is in the blue book but it is in old English so you won’t understand it!” The two clergy rattled through the liturgy like they’d left their dinner in the oven and it might burn and there was little atmosphere. 

So I came away thinking well, what is Church? Remember Archbishop Temple said “the Church is the only organisation that exists for the benefit of its non members.” Are we only going to exist if we meet people where they are and not expect them to magically come to some alien thing we really don’t want them at anyway? My city’s cathedral isn’t guilty of this. Evensong isn’t rushed and you don’t go away feeling you weren’t really welcome but there are bits of the Church that really don’t get where people are. Are we a movement or a museum? 

Today I’ve had two types of Church around me. I know which I find more attractive and inspiring. On my way home I was catching up with DJ Spoony on Radio 2. His programme at 10pm in the week is uplifting and optimistic. He played a classic by UB40 which was written about racial prejudice and apartheid in South Africa but tonight as I listened to the lyrics it could be about the future of the Church and God’s story:

We will no longer hear your command

We will seize the control from your hand

We will fan the flame of our anger and pain

And you’ll feel the shame for what you do in God’s name.

We will fight for the right to be free

And we will build our own society

And we will sing, we will sing our own song. 

People expect the Church to do something today to be credible. We have to be seen, to be with, to sing our own song, to be there for those we meet. I did some shopping in a large Tesco Extra off the York by pass earlier. I was dressed for work. A lady told me her taxi hadn’t come, almost asking me what was I doing to do about it! It was five minutes late. She was panicking. I did suggest it might come and later I saw her getting in it. The point is she wanted help! 

We need urgently to be a people who see a different thing happening that there is hope in a despairing world. I write tonight as Donald Trump gives his make America wealthy again tariffs speech. It’s scary. And it feels like history repeating. If he says his friends have been the problem we have trouble. So maybe agents of resurrection need to be an irritant and a presence to say what is cannot be. Where the Church has no intention to be incarnate, we have to question its future.

Don’t we??

Mothering Sunday

Can a mother forget her child –

One she weaned from her breast?

Even if she ever could

I could not, however pressed.

How I have longed to draw you close –

Hidden safe ‘neath my wing

Always, you say, ‘I will not’

And turn from love I would bring.

With arms outstretched I show my love –

Still so many turn away.

Yet I show my faithfulness

Won’t you turn to me today?

Always I am watching, waiting –

Longing to pour out grace.

Waiting still to see you turn

To my welcoming embrace.

Some biblical mothers… Who are they and what do they teach us about mothering? 

1. Eve – the mother of Cain and Abel. What did she do? Easily led astray and we don’t know what she thought of what her sons got up to later on. She might have brought them up well but for one to turn on the other and say am I my brothers keeper and do him in was shocking. Eve though is the first mother in the world. We might think about mothers disappointed how their children turned out. 

 

2. Sarai – the mother of Isaac. What do we know about her? She was elderly and never dreamt she would have a child. She laughed when God sent messengers to tell her that. We might think about mothers who are surprised to be mothers at all. 

 

3. Hannah – the mother of Samuel. Hannah hurt deeply because she wanted to be a mother. In her pain she cried out to God.She promised if she had a child she would give him back to God. Please, my lord," she said, "as sure as you live, my lord, I am the woman who stood here beside you praying to the Lord. I prayed for this boy, and since the Lord gave me what I asked Him for, I now give the boy to the Lord. For as long as he lives, he is given to the Lord." Then he bowed and worshipped the Lord there. We might think about mothers who make sacrifices for their children and let them go. 

 

4. Elizabeth – the mother of John the Baptist. God had been silent for 400 years between the Old Testament and the New. And then, without the pomp and circumstance that the Israelites were expecting and waiting for, God slips into the world and selects several unexpected people to play significant roles in his plan.Nestled in this dramatic time in history is Elizabeth, the aging wife of a priest. And Elizabeth is full of joy about being a mother. When Mary visits her she tells her the baby in her womb leapt for joy. So we might think about the joy of parenthood this morning and those preparing for a birth. 

 

5.  Herodias – the mother of Salome. She probably spoilt her daughter and maybe she wasn’t a very good mother. She got John the Baptist’s head for her on a plate. Maybe – and this is the hard bit of Mothering Sunday – maybe we need to remember those who struggle with this day because their relationship with their mother wasn’t good and healthy and today is very painful as they remember. 

What about some famous mothers?

1. Anne Boleyn – mother of Elizabeth I. Anne did not have much chance to be a mother, that opportunity was taken away from her, and, as a mother, I can only imagine the fears and worries that must have eaten away at her during those days imprisoned in the Tower – fears for Elizabeth’s safety and future, worries about her child growing up without a mother, concern that Elizabeth would be told that her mother had committed treason and adultery, grief that she would never see her little girl grow up into a woman…But what was Anne like during the two years and eight months that she was a mother? Maybe we need to remember those who have lost mothers too early. And those who worry about the future for their children.

 2. Mother Julian of Norwich – who was a mystic in a cell in Norwich and thought deeply about what God was like. In May 1373, at 30 and a she lay dying. A local priest arrived to give her the last rites and held a crucifix in front of her. In that moment, however, the woman—Julian of Norwich— experienced a series of visions, ranging from graphic details of Christ’s passion to an image of a humble hazelnut. When she miraculously recovered from her illness, this experience formed the basis for Julian’s Revelations of Divine Love, the first book in English which is known to have been authored by a woman. This book continues to be studied and to challenge theologians today. In particular, Julian is famous for her extended comparison of God to a mother:

'When [a child] is hurt or frightened it runs to its mother for help as fast as it can; and [God] wants us to do the same, like a humble child, saying, "My kind Mother, my gracious Mother, my dearest Mother, take pity on me"

3. Mother Theresa – who ministered to the poor in Calcutta. There are some lovely quotes from her: If you judge people, you have no time to love them.” “Peace begins with a smile.” “We fear the future because we are wasting today.” “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.”

“Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin.”“Every time you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing.” “Kind words can be short and easy to speak, but their echoes are truly endless.” “Do not think that love in order to be genuine has to be extraordinary. What we need is to love without getting tired.” Maybe we think today about mothers who leave us an example who made a difference by just being who they were. 

4. The Mother Abbess or Rev Mother. I didn’t know until I listened to Scott Mills on Radio 2 on Thursday morning that Thursday was the 60thanniversary of the film Sound of Music. How it is we see it as if it were new every time we see it? I still find the bit hiding in the crypt from the Nazis scary! The Mother Abbess sees the novices in Salzburg through the process of becoming a nun, guiding and inspiring them as they weigh their decision. Firm and authoritative, but also warm and compassionate, Mother Abbess sends Maria to the von Trapp house, sensing that she would be a good fit in the role of governess. When Maria returns in a state to the convent and confesses that she has fallen in love with the Captain, the Mother Abbess assures her that love, marriage and motherhood can also be God’s will. She tells her to climb every mountain etc. Maybe we need to remember mothers who give wise counsel today. 

 

5. Queen Elizabeth II – nothing against Camilla but when I see the words The Queen written down I still think about the late Queen. She gave her whole life to service and was there even when her children encountered huge difficulties mostly with marriage. King Charles words about her when she passed on sum her up. “And to my darling Mama, as you begin your last great journey to join my dear late Papa, I want simply to say this: thank you. Thank you for your love and devotion to our family and to the family of nations you have served so diligently all these years. May 'flights of Angels sing thee to thy rest'. Maybe this morning we remember mothers in heaven. 

 

What is Mothering Sunday for? Not just to remember the mothers and nurturers in life but  Mothering Sunday is about place – about knowing where we are rooted, what gives us life, how we are related to others. It’s a place for starting from and returning to, in ancient tradition peoplereturned to the church where they were baptised, where they grew in faith. The church that ‘mothered them” spiritually. Today many of us are disconnected from our roots, from our mother place. Lacking roots we now have to find ways to make a place of safety and welcome for other people at a difficult time. The temptation is to pull up the drawbridge and just look after ourselves. 

How do we find consolation when fear and alarm, or struggle and suffering strike us? Many people would say through our parents, often through our mothers. For plenty of others that is not true. Parenting is not simple. The one who bore us may be one who fails us, even betrays us. Or the one who has died, who has left us. Isuspect St Anselm, a long-ago Archbishop of Canterbury, knew much about love from his mother. He likens God to a mother in his song, and speaks so tenderly

of that relationship of love that he can only have learned it at home.

 

Jesus, like a mother you gather your people to you;
you are gentle with us as a mother with her children.

Despair turns to hope through your sweet goodness;
through your gentleness we find comfort in fear.

Your warmth gives life to the dead,
your touch makes sinners righteous.

Lord Jesus, in your mercy heal us;
in your love and tenderness remake us.

In your compassion bring grace and forgiveness,
for the beauty of heaven may your love prepare us.

 

Jesus, he says, like a mother you gather your people to you; you are gentle with

us as a mother with her children.

All love has its source in the immeasurable, wonderful love of God. All

consolation comes from God, through being loved, and it comes to us abundantly, so that we can give it to others.

Let’s consider Mary…

The great St. Bernard of Clairvaux once wrote, De Maria, numquam satis (One can never say enough about Mary).  He was right.What do we know about Mary? 

Mary, a young, unmarried woman, carries a reality she did not create alone. Her body becomes a site of scandal, suspicion, and divine promise. Her vocation is not simply to bear a child but to bear witness to God’s new order breaking through the old. 

Liberation is woven into this vocation. Mary’s calling is the calling of all who long for justice—her Magnificat in Luke 1 sings of the proud scattered, the hungry filled, the lowly lifted up. It is a calling into a new reality, where God’s presence transforms powerlessness into agency, fear into courage, exclusion into belonging. Mary is a radical disciple. And her parenting isn’t easy. 

Imagine being laughed at or spoken about in whispers in Nazareth after it’s discovered you are pregnant, and you can’t really explain whose baby it is. 

Imagine that journey to a tyrannical census on a donkey then nowhere to stay and birth in a barn.

Imagine being a refugee and political exile because of your child.

Imagine being at his presentation and an elderly priest tells you a sword will pierce your heart, again because of your child.

Imagine putting up with your child being quite rude to you. You lose him when he’s twelve going to Jerusalem and he says when he’s discovered in the Temple, “ didn’t you know I’d be here?” Then later you go with him to a wedding where they run out of wine. You make a few helpful suggestions. He says “mother, shut up, my time has not yet come.”

Imagine seeing your son die on a cross. We will think about that soon as we get near Good Friday. We’ve thought about mothers dying caring for their children, here Jesus cares for his mother and entrusts him to the care of his closest friend. Think about mothers who have tragically lost children, not least in the earthquake in Myanmar this week. 

But hear this about Mary. When the church is born in Acts, Mary is still there. Luke describes the prayer-meeting of the first Christians. What strikes the reader at the outset is that Mary is named explicitly, as the twelve are. All others are lumped together in one of Luke’s summary statements, “the women and the brethren of Jesus.” As we are told in the following verse, the number of “the brethren,” including the apostles and Mary, “was in all about a hundred and twenty.” Among this group, the only one outside the apostles who is mentioned by name is Mary. Is there any significance to this?

 

It would indicate, first of all, the importance of the Mother of Jesus within the early Christian community. She stands out. She is, in a special way, worthy of respect, of praise. She has endured the dark night of Good Friday, she has faithfully persevered. 

 

Now the woman who “pondered” at the birth of her Divine Son is depicted once again as pondering, praying, at the birth of the Body of Her Son, the Church. Mary ever-faithful, Mary the early church called the ecclesia orang, the Church at prayer. Mary, the deep thinking, slightly scarred, obedient mother figure who can inspire us today how to be the Church. On Mothering Sunday, we remember her, as an inspiration to love lavishly as God has loved us.

Isaiah, centuries before Mary, wrote these words about GodCan a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! This is the kind of love that knows no end. It will go on and on and on and on!

May the Lord who brought us to birth by his Spirit,

strengthen us for the Christian life.

 

May the Lord who provides for all our needs

sustain us day by day.

 

May the Lord whose steadfast love is constant as a mother's care,

send us out to live and work for others.

The first Sunday of Lent - Relationships

One of the hardest things to do is to walk into a church you don’t know. I had a Sunday off yesterday and we had a day in Durham. In the morning we went to Elvet, now half of Durham City Methodist Church. We were last there three years ago when I was on sabbatical. 

As we got out of the car, a lady said “are you coming to church?” She sounded surprised we were! How is it we’ve stopped expecting new people to join us? Then folk by the door were very welcoming and made sure we got a seat (not difficult) and had hymn books and knew there was coffee afterwards and where it was to be served. The service was led by Rev Les Nevin who led us in thinking about Jesus in the wilderness and God being our refuge in Trump world. Afterwards, folk continued to be welcoming and I had a good conversation with a younger couple about how one church on two sites works (and where it doesn’t!) and they told me they are thinking about buildings and long term they can only sustain one due to lack of personnel. That story is becoming so familiar. I hope they work it out. Would I return? Yes. Because the worship was good and the welcome was genuine. 

We always like if we are in Durham on a Sunday to get to evensong at the cathedral. I still think Durham Cathedral is the most awesome spiritual building there is. I owe it a lot as it helped me keep grounded during a bit of an existential crisis while serving in the county and dealing with a bit of a situation! I know exactly where I was sitting in January 2007 when God told me to keep going when I wanted otherwise. How many prayers of desperation have been prayed in the place over the centuries? 

The liturgy yesterday was about hope in suffering. There was an especially powerful piece the choir sang by Thomas Morley. Then I read after the service this pilgrim’s prayer: 

God of the journey,
who inspired the northern saints
to walk in your way and to bear your light;
bless us on our pilgrimage in life,
that we may find companions on the road,
learn to travel with joyful and generous hearts,
and discover your welcome at our journey’s end,
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.

Before this break I’d been rather involved with conversations and worry about how we keep the church going administratively. I worry we are spending so much energy worrying about money at the moment and dwindling numbers of people able to take on responsibilities. We are going to do governance differently in my circuit from September with some burdens lifted from local people but we still need to work out what we can do and now what we cannot. I told two people at Elvet to try and discern what they are wanting to be when making decisions about the future. I strongly believe that while we might have to be a different shape of church, our future has to be about building relationships and being where people are. 

I sense my call in my final years of ministry will be to do more in community engagement and pilgrimage and prayer. I have no answers to where I find stewards and property secretaries in churches where people want to enjoy retirement and have grandchildren duties and sometimes aren’t well. We need to celebrate where it’s working. It’s working where people come together to find support and friendship, like coffee mornings and bereavement cafes and new expressions of worship in village halls and having focus with refurbishments and doing it ecumenically where that is life giving. It isn’t working where we are just miserable about it and it makes us ill and we’ve lost the joy. 

I look at places like Durham and Ripon cathedrals and suggest people need spaces of sanctuary and hope in what Les Nevin called Trump world today. I am writing this in one of the many Ripon cafes - the one that does the largest cup of coffee in the city! A huge friendship group of people who meet here regularly clearly has just left and another one has just come in. They are discussing last night’s Dancing on Ice final! But whatever the subject these people are finding support by being together. It was lovely coming out of the cathedral yesterday afternoon to be stopped by a group of people who asked if I was in the service at Elvet in the morning. I told them we are very drawn towards Durham. I told them my wife went to uni there and studied chemistry and natural sciences. He asked when she was there as he was a chemistry professor. He went off and happily had a conversation with her. Isn’t life better when we find companions or shared interests?  

We went to the cinema on Friday night and saw Conclave, a masterpiece of a film about the carryings on in electing a new Pope. I won’t give any spoilers here but one of the cardinals who gets frustrated at the behaviour of some of his colleagues says this “the church is what it does next.” The news this morning is all about what decisions are taken which will determine the future in a fragmented and dangerous world. People keep asking me where the church will be when I retire - whenever that will be. I don’t know but I still think we will be about. But we need to break rules, listen to people, get involved, stop being silly when people say we can’t do things, laugh more, and wait on God more and most of all remember we are a gathering and on a journey rather than having it all sorted.

Maybe what we do next is really crucial…

Mountain top experiences

Here’s what I preached at Boroughbridge this morning on Transfiguration Sunday…

The modern curse of society is the addiction to social media and the need to always be accessible. I talked to some children the other week about telephones in the 1970’s. We didn’t have a landline at home until 1977 when I was ten. The novelty of going over the road to my aunties before that who had a phone was a huge excitement! Do you remember the call box? The pips would come too soon and you’d scrabble around for more change to keep the conversation going. The thing I hate is people who walk along the street staring at their phone. They bump into you not seeing you, concentrating on the device not what is around them.

 

Spiritually we need to look up a lot more. There was excitement this week that the Red Arrows were flying over Ripon. People had read what time they could be seen. I’d forgotten all about them and I was in the cathedral shop buying a Lent book and we heard them but we didn’t see them. We often treat God like that. We intend to look for him but we get so bogged down in the demands and the minutiae of life, we miss him being about. Often looking up gives us a new sense of joy and blessing. There was a lovely rainbow on Wednesday. Doesn’t a rainbow excite you and lift your spirits? It’s a sign despite the horror and pain of the world; God will not abandon us.

 

Don’t we need that sort of message this morning? We spend a lot of time looking down. We are having our covenant service two months late because on the first Sunday of January it snowed heavily and in the days afterwards when the temperature plummeted to minus seven degrees the ice on the pavements was treacherous so we had to watch our every step. We look down at the pain of the world and wonder what to do about it. And even when we find hope looking up, the problems down around us can overwhelm us. On Friday night Lis and I went for a drive to catch the sunset and orange skies and then look at the stars and the planets on a really clear night. The road between Pateley Bridge and Grassington was peaceful and calming. As we drove along the news headline was the shouting match in the Oval Office. We worry about the state of the world every day at the moment. I wasn’t going to mention President  Trump today, I really wasn’t. A clergy group said yesterday any of us leading worship today who don’t mention Ukraine should consider our position. It’s hard to look up and be hopeful. But it was good for President Zelensky to hear cheering crowds as he arrived in Downing Street to meet the Prime Minister yesterday. He got quite emotional after his verbal battering the day before. 

 

When it all gets too much, we need to stop watching the news so much, put the phone down because it’s no good for our mental health. Growing up we watched the news once a day, a generation before you went and watched pathe news at the cinema. Now it can be in your face twenty four hours a day and it’s exhausting. Lis was trying to find Bach’s St John’s Passion on you tube yesterday afternoon for me to hear a bit of it as I was pondering going to hear it. On the screen it showed other things you might like to watch – one was Trump in the Oval Office! There’s no escaping but maybe we need to. 

 

This Sunday is the last Sunday before Lent when we go up a mountain to see Jesus transfigured. Jesus takes us up a mountain to see a different perspective. 

 

To see God is to be changed. For the last several weeks, during this season following the Epiphany, we have journeyed alongside those who first came to the realisation that Jesus might actually be the Messiah for whom they had waited.

They watched as heaven opened and heard a voice proclaiming, “This is my Son,” standing on the banks of the Jordan River. They tasted the water that had become “good wine” at a wedding in Cana. They listened as he taught in the synagogue and heard him profess that in him, that day, the scripture had been fulfilled. They watched—or possibly even participated in—the angry crowd which drove him out of the synagogue but could not destroy him. They pressed in on him to hear him teach. They obeyed him when he told them, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.” They witnessed signs and believed. They heard him and felt hope as he declared, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.” They wrestled as he taught them to love their enemies and to “Do to others as you would have them do to you.”

Some were amazed, others became angry, multitudes found hope, and a handful left everything and followed him.

But all were forever changed.

How could they not be? How could we not be?

Peter, James, and John had already given up everything to follow Jesus. They had heard his teaching, they had asked questions, and they had witnessed the miraculous. 

Yet it wasn’t until this time and place that their eyes were opened to see Jesus the Christ in his true appearance, flanked by two of the greatest prophets of their faith.

“They saw his glory and the two men who stood with him.”

They had walked with Jesus, but it wasn’t until this very moment that their eyes were transformed to see Christ transfigured before them. They heard the voice of God: “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”

They couldn’t un-see what they had witnessed—reality peeled back to give a glimpse of the Kingdom of God. They were changed. How could they not be?

When they descended the mountain, they kept silent and told no one of what they had seen and experienced. They were immediately confronted by a man whose son had been seized by an evil spirit. The demon dramatically dashed the boy against the ground, but Jesus was unfazed. He rebuked the spirit, healed the young boy, and returned him to his father.

“And all were astounded at the greatness of God.”

They had seen God and their lives were changed. How could they not be?

The moment was beyond their ability to detail. Something happened to Jesus as they stood there and he was transformed beyond understanding and description. John’s Gospel doesn’t have this story but, in 1:14, we hear: the Word became flesh and made his dwelling place with us and we beheld his glory.

Here, for a few moments, the glory is visible. And we need those moments to cope with the looking down we have to do. 

If we could talk to Peter, the Transfiguration would be an event he would go back to as one of the defining moments of his life. In fact, he did go back to it in his second letter:

“For we did not follow cleverly devised stories when we told you about the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ in power, but we were eyewitnesses of his majesty.

He received honour and glory from God the Father when the voice came to him from the Majestic Glory, saying, ‘This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.’  We ourselves heard this voice that came from heaven when we were with him on the sacred mountain. We also have the prophetic message as something completely reliable, and you will do well to pay attention to it.”

Peter doesn’t try to explain the mystery of the Transfiguration. Later in life, it is enough for him to tell his listeners that he was an eyewitness: he saw Jesus in majesty and heard the voice of God.

It’s easy for a preacher to say we are all witnesses, but what are we witnessing to. What appearance of Jesus is there for us to testify about?

Well, there are always what we might call the small stories of hope – moments when people have encountered the Grace of God through everyday Christians like you. The gentle encouragement, the act of generosity, sitting quietly with someone while they grieve.

But occasionally there are remarkable stories that capture the attention. What’s your decisive moment, your remarkable story? I was at a service of prayer for Ukraine on Tuesday in the little church at Wilsill. I always like to take a church magazine when I visit churches to read what they are up to and borrow ideas. The vicar in the current one writes about ordination as his remarkable story. He writes “ I remember a friend of mine, Nicki, telling me about her ordination in Edinburgh Cathedral. As the Bishop laid hands on her, there was a huge clap of thunder. I thought then, and still do, that was so cool. Myordination was only a week or so later, and I couldn't wait for my own dramatic moment. The day came, and I knelt in front of the Bishop, thinking, "Here we go, what have you got for me, Lord?" The Bishop’shands rested on my head. I waited. And... nothing. No thunderclap ,no celestial drumroll. Just a quiet stillness. At first, I was a little confused. Where was my moment of divine theatrics? But then I feltsomething, an unexpected warmth, a deep sense of love flowing.through me from head to toe. It may have been only for me to experience, and some might argue that it was all in my head. But I know different.”

 

We need mountain top experiences to resource us to live in the world. Where’s your mountain? Your church? 

Do you go away from here changed having encountered a bit of the glory of God? Fellowship with others? The power of creation? That’s notdifficult to experience in this area. Silence? We might use Lent which begins on Wednesday to climb a mountain in order to get on with the demands of life. We need to take time to notice God again and be surprised and excited again at where God can be found. We need to behold his glory. Because that glory is all about us. We need to look up! And we need to help each other look up. Part of the call of the Church is to support each other with heights! Rather like this risk assessment: in accordance with the risks identified in our health and safety risk assessment and the solutions to be implemented, step ladders should only be used when another person is present!  

 

Go from this service today encouraged. Can I remind you how we learnt this story in Sunday School? 

Climb, climb up sunshine mountain
Heavenly breezes blow;
Climb, climb up sunshine mountain
Faces all aglow.
Turn, turn from sin and doubting,
Look to God on high,
Climb, climb up sunshine mountain
You and I.

 

Church here was busy on Wednesday. The larder was open, I had a meeting with Liam, our builder, and a young couple came in. One of the larder folk introduced me as the vicar. I got excited as I thought they might want a wedding! I’ve not had a wedding since I came here. Alas not, they were relatives of the Hawking family of Chatsworth House along the road and they’d never seen the stained glass at the back of church only a picture of it. They enjoyed looking up at it and went away happy. Friends that is how an encounter with Jesus just before Lent should leave us. We are forever changed when we see and encounter God.

How could we not be?