Travelling back from Uganda recently I had the opportunity to watch the film, The Way, starring Martin Sheen. It tells the story of an American eye doctor, Tom (played by Sheen), whose estranged son dies while walking the El Camino de Santiago, an ancient pilgrimage from the French Pyrenees to Spain.
Tom travels to France to recover the body, but realises there is some unfinished business, and decides instead to have the body cremated and to scatter the ashes along the route of the pilgrim way. His intention is to travel alone but circumstances dictate otherwise, and he reluctantly teams up with three others: Joos, an overweight Dutchman who wants to lose weight; Sarah, a chain-smoking American who wants to quit; and Jack, an Irish author with writer’s block who wants to rediscover his creativity.
Their journey together becomes a journey of self-discovery, in some ways a modern day version of Pilgrim’s Progress. The dialogue between the four is sharp and amusing as they rub the rough edges off each other, and whilst not overly Christian, there is enough spiritual insight in the film to make it both enjoyable and thought-provoking. The DVD comes out on October, and I can highly recommend it.
Watching the film brought to mind a book which I had read earlier in the year and really enjoyed – Pilgrimage of a Soul by Phileena Heurtz (IVP). The connection is that it is her account of her real life pilgrimage along El Camino de Santiago.
Heurtz works as co-director for an international organisation that works amongst the poorest people of the world. In 2007 she and her husband were given a sabbatical, and as part of that period determined to make a literal pilgrimage. For 33 days they walked the El Camino, and the journey became a metaphor for her of her spiritual journey, with all its ups and downs.
“Pilgrimage is a metaphor for growth and transformation,” she writes. “To grow is to progress from one place to another; to be transformed is to transition from one form to another; to embark on pilgrimage is to leave where one is and to arrive where one is not yet.”
The trials of the journey, and having the time to think, enabled Heurtz to give attention to what was happening within her soul, in particular the movement away from her false self to the discovery of her true self in Christ. It is a moving and challenging account, and I would suggest essential reading for anyone who seriously wishes to find the union between contemplative spirituality and the active life.
Which brings us to the Psalm, and one of my favourites, Psalm 84. This is essentially a pilgrim Psalm, sung by Jewish believers as they made their way to Jerusalem for one of the tree annual sacred assemblies. I have often led retreats based on these beautiful verses under the heading ‘Pilgrims Making Progress’, but for now let me remind you of verse 5: “Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage.”
Here we have a reminder that each one of us is on a sacred journey or pilgrimage – the journey through life, the journey of discipleship, the inner journey of transformation. There is a path marked out for each of us, and as we walk along our particular road it is an opportunity for us to find God and our true selves.
Such a journey is never easy, and there are days when we are tempted to give up; but take heart from this film, and this book, and this verse. God will strengthen us so we can finish our journey, and bless us along the way.
Saturday, 24 September 2011
Sunday, 11 September 2011
The case of the headless Christ
This is a true story and was shared by an experienced missionary at a retreat I was leading recently.
The lady in question (a good Protestant) was going to a Catholic retreat Centre for a thirty day Ignatian retreat. Now anyone who puts themselves forward for such an experience is serious about following Jesus, and she most definitely is. She had geared herself up for what she expected would be a watershed experience in her Christian life, and travelled to the retreat centre in a state of high spiritual intensity.
When she arrived she was shown to the little bedroom that would be her home for the next month. As she unpacked she decided to re-arrange what little furniture there was to make it more homely. As she did so, she brushed passed a crucifix hanging on the wall above the bed, and it fell to ground with a thud. She stooped to pick it up, but was distressed to find that the head had broken off, and she was left holding a headless crucifix. Getting down on her hand and knees she saw the head had rolled like a miniature football under the bed, so she reached out and recovered it, but now she had a dilemma.
Should she replace the crucifix (now headless) on the wall, and hope that no-one noticed? Or should she hide it away in the drawer, and also hope that no-one noticed it was missing? Either way, she wondered how her Catholic friends would react to a broken crucifix, and just how serious a spiritual offence decapitating a figure of Jesus might be considered. What kind of penance might she be asked to perform?
After some internal struggle she decided the best thing would be to conceal the broken crucifix, along with the head of Jesus, in her bedside cabinet, praying that her misdemeanour would go undetected. She resolved that at the first opportunity she would go into the nearby town, buy some superglue, and re-attached the head.
It was not until almost the end of the retreat that this was possible as the daily schedule was tight and retreatants were discouraged from leaving the centre so as not to interrupt the flow of their retreat. Eventually, having procured the superglue, and having performed some minor surgery, she re-attached the head to the body and the crucifix was returned to its place on the wall. There it remains to this day, with the head intact, and only the faintest of lines to be tell where the damage had been.
As she recounted this adventure to us, we rolled with laughter, and she did too. She told us that the most important word that came to her during the retreat was this: LIGHTEN UP! Her vulnerability in telling us this story brought healing to us all, for laughter does that. As Proverbs says: ‘A cheerful heart is a good medicine, but a broken spirit saps a person’s strength.’ (17:22)
It wasn’t Oswald Chambers who said, ‘Beware intensity in religion’, but it could have been for it is the kind of thing he would have said. Sometimes the more zealous we are for God the more serious we become, and intensity and grace don’t mix too well. When we get intense it is usually a sign that we have moved over into self-effort and are getting into religious mode. Grace frees us to be relaxed and natural, even in our seeking after God, and to enjoy what Sheila Walsh termed ‘the incredible lightness of grace.’
May you and I seek after God with all our hearts, but do so without the intensity that robs us of our joy or playfulness.
The lady in question (a good Protestant) was going to a Catholic retreat Centre for a thirty day Ignatian retreat. Now anyone who puts themselves forward for such an experience is serious about following Jesus, and she most definitely is. She had geared herself up for what she expected would be a watershed experience in her Christian life, and travelled to the retreat centre in a state of high spiritual intensity.
When she arrived she was shown to the little bedroom that would be her home for the next month. As she unpacked she decided to re-arrange what little furniture there was to make it more homely. As she did so, she brushed passed a crucifix hanging on the wall above the bed, and it fell to ground with a thud. She stooped to pick it up, but was distressed to find that the head had broken off, and she was left holding a headless crucifix. Getting down on her hand and knees she saw the head had rolled like a miniature football under the bed, so she reached out and recovered it, but now she had a dilemma.
Should she replace the crucifix (now headless) on the wall, and hope that no-one noticed? Or should she hide it away in the drawer, and also hope that no-one noticed it was missing? Either way, she wondered how her Catholic friends would react to a broken crucifix, and just how serious a spiritual offence decapitating a figure of Jesus might be considered. What kind of penance might she be asked to perform?
After some internal struggle she decided the best thing would be to conceal the broken crucifix, along with the head of Jesus, in her bedside cabinet, praying that her misdemeanour would go undetected. She resolved that at the first opportunity she would go into the nearby town, buy some superglue, and re-attached the head.
It was not until almost the end of the retreat that this was possible as the daily schedule was tight and retreatants were discouraged from leaving the centre so as not to interrupt the flow of their retreat. Eventually, having procured the superglue, and having performed some minor surgery, she re-attached the head to the body and the crucifix was returned to its place on the wall. There it remains to this day, with the head intact, and only the faintest of lines to be tell where the damage had been.
As she recounted this adventure to us, we rolled with laughter, and she did too. She told us that the most important word that came to her during the retreat was this: LIGHTEN UP! Her vulnerability in telling us this story brought healing to us all, for laughter does that. As Proverbs says: ‘A cheerful heart is a good medicine, but a broken spirit saps a person’s strength.’ (17:22)
It wasn’t Oswald Chambers who said, ‘Beware intensity in religion’, but it could have been for it is the kind of thing he would have said. Sometimes the more zealous we are for God the more serious we become, and intensity and grace don’t mix too well. When we get intense it is usually a sign that we have moved over into self-effort and are getting into religious mode. Grace frees us to be relaxed and natural, even in our seeking after God, and to enjoy what Sheila Walsh termed ‘the incredible lightness of grace.’
May you and I seek after God with all our hearts, but do so without the intensity that robs us of our joy or playfulness.
Monday, 29 August 2011
Too busy to blog?
Yes, I’m afraid that’s the case right now. The summer months are always very busy for me and one event seems to merge into another, with little time in-between.
This summer, for example, began with my taking seminars at new Horizon, a Bible Week in Northern Ireland. I was home for a week, then off again (with Evelyn) to Torquay in Devon where I did the Bible readings at a conference hosted by Marilyn Baker. The pattern continued with another week at home before heading to South Wales and a retreat at Nicholaston House. Now today, after another in-between week, I will drive down to Sussex for a retreat with a small group of mission partners.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not asking for sympathy, nor am I complaining. I love the ministry that God has given me, and I love meeting so many wonderful people. It is a joy to see God work deeply in people’s lives, and to have a small part to play in sustaining his servants; but sometimes it is busy, and often I can’t achieve all that I would want to.
Keeping up with my blog is a good example. Somewhere I read that for a blog to be effective it needs to be written regularly, say weekly or fortnightly. This encourages readers to keep following the posts. Since I began my own blog this has been an unofficial guideline which I have been able to keep to (more or less) until this summer... and now it’s weeks since I posted anything. Which means the ‘law’ (thou shalt post every week) has been nipping at my heels and biting me with guilt. Which is silly really, isn’t it, because it’s my own rule (not imposed by anyone else), and there has hardly been a public outcry at the lack of blogging activity. So why do I feel guilty?
But that’s exactly how the law works, isn’t it, and especially man-made, self-imposed religious rules. Like reading through the Bible in a year or five chapters every day; witnessing to one person each day; promising to pray for a friend overseas daily, and so on. You probably have your own favourites. These well-intentioned ideals either make us proud (because we kept them), or miserable (because we didn’t). The challenge is to live with a free conscience, doing what we know to be right to the best of our ability, but not getting screwed-up when we fail to live up to even our own expectations.
What this requires is that we know how to live under the rule of grace, not law, and that we learn how to be gracious towards ourselves. Indeed only if we are gracious towards ourselves will we be able to be gracious towards others and free of self-righteous judgementalism (is there such a word?).
So, I hope you have missed my blogs, and I hope to get into a better routine again soon as well since I love the process of writing and reflecting. But I wanted you to know that although it has been a struggle for me to not write for a while, it has been my own choice has I have had to weigh up my priorities pretty carefully, and my blog had to be sacrificed for the sake of sanity and well-being. I’m sure you understand.
PS It's been so long I couldn't remember how to make a post on my blog!
This summer, for example, began with my taking seminars at new Horizon, a Bible Week in Northern Ireland. I was home for a week, then off again (with Evelyn) to Torquay in Devon where I did the Bible readings at a conference hosted by Marilyn Baker. The pattern continued with another week at home before heading to South Wales and a retreat at Nicholaston House. Now today, after another in-between week, I will drive down to Sussex for a retreat with a small group of mission partners.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not asking for sympathy, nor am I complaining. I love the ministry that God has given me, and I love meeting so many wonderful people. It is a joy to see God work deeply in people’s lives, and to have a small part to play in sustaining his servants; but sometimes it is busy, and often I can’t achieve all that I would want to.
Keeping up with my blog is a good example. Somewhere I read that for a blog to be effective it needs to be written regularly, say weekly or fortnightly. This encourages readers to keep following the posts. Since I began my own blog this has been an unofficial guideline which I have been able to keep to (more or less) until this summer... and now it’s weeks since I posted anything. Which means the ‘law’ (thou shalt post every week) has been nipping at my heels and biting me with guilt. Which is silly really, isn’t it, because it’s my own rule (not imposed by anyone else), and there has hardly been a public outcry at the lack of blogging activity. So why do I feel guilty?
But that’s exactly how the law works, isn’t it, and especially man-made, self-imposed religious rules. Like reading through the Bible in a year or five chapters every day; witnessing to one person each day; promising to pray for a friend overseas daily, and so on. You probably have your own favourites. These well-intentioned ideals either make us proud (because we kept them), or miserable (because we didn’t). The challenge is to live with a free conscience, doing what we know to be right to the best of our ability, but not getting screwed-up when we fail to live up to even our own expectations.
What this requires is that we know how to live under the rule of grace, not law, and that we learn how to be gracious towards ourselves. Indeed only if we are gracious towards ourselves will we be able to be gracious towards others and free of self-righteous judgementalism (is there such a word?).
So, I hope you have missed my blogs, and I hope to get into a better routine again soon as well since I love the process of writing and reflecting. But I wanted you to know that although it has been a struggle for me to not write for a while, it has been my own choice has I have had to weigh up my priorities pretty carefully, and my blog had to be sacrificed for the sake of sanity and well-being. I’m sure you understand.
PS It's been so long I couldn't remember how to make a post on my blog!
Monday, 27 June 2011
What's your registration?
Following on from my last post (How am I driving?), I want to continue with a motorway theme, and ask the question, ‘What’s your registration’?
I have to confess that a little hobby of mine is ‘spotting’ interesting number plates while criss-crossing the motorways of Britain. It’s not quite as geeky as train-spotting and so far I haven’t taken to writing numbers down, or taking photos, both of which could be dangerous at 70mph. But I am tempted to start a collection of interesting number plates. We could call it the Book of Numbers...
Anyway, it is an interesting fact that many drivers like to have a ‘personalised’ number plate to help them stand out from the crowd. British drivers are not really superstitious about numbers (as for instance Chinese drivers are), but they do like to play with letters and numbers to make interesting combinations. Of course many settle for a low number with their initials – for example PAH 7 – whilst others with a short name can actually use their own name – such as YE48TOM (or JOY, SUE, TED, BOB etc).
The ones I really like, and are a good ‘spot’, are the ones with a bit more invention to them. These can be quite expensive to purchase and usually go with an expensive car. Some of my best ones recently have been:
ST55ARR (no lack of self-esteem with that lady)
A1BBA (not Bjorn, but definitely a fan)
1BEX (not David, but bags of money)
AL04MEL (think about that one)
JE55HUA (at a Christian Conference Centre – the guest speaker?)
T50COD (the owner of an angling shop)
Well, I know it’s sad, but it passes the time when I’m driving and I try not to get too distracted. I don’t have a personalised number plate myself as yet, although I do try to make something of my own registration YT03NSU (Young Tony...Not So Unusual). But I do wonder what makes people pay a lot of money (often thousands of pounds) to have their own unique registration.
It may be a simple case of vanity, it might be a bit of fun, it may be the need to be noticed, or the desire to stand out. It might just be an easy way of remembering which car is yours in the parking lot! All of us want to feel we are recognised and acknowledge in some way, and I guess have a unique registration can help with our sense of identity.
I wouldn’t say No to 7ONY if I came across it, but I’m glad my identity is built on a stronger foundation than my car’s make or registration. It’s grounded in Christ, and the fact that I am in him (2Corinthains 5:17). I have worth and value because I am God’s child and have been redeemed at great cost. I matter to God, whether or not other people notice, and nothing can change that.
I have to confess that a little hobby of mine is ‘spotting’ interesting number plates while criss-crossing the motorways of Britain. It’s not quite as geeky as train-spotting and so far I haven’t taken to writing numbers down, or taking photos, both of which could be dangerous at 70mph. But I am tempted to start a collection of interesting number plates. We could call it the Book of Numbers...
Anyway, it is an interesting fact that many drivers like to have a ‘personalised’ number plate to help them stand out from the crowd. British drivers are not really superstitious about numbers (as for instance Chinese drivers are), but they do like to play with letters and numbers to make interesting combinations. Of course many settle for a low number with their initials – for example PAH 7 – whilst others with a short name can actually use their own name – such as YE48TOM (or JOY, SUE, TED, BOB etc).
The ones I really like, and are a good ‘spot’, are the ones with a bit more invention to them. These can be quite expensive to purchase and usually go with an expensive car. Some of my best ones recently have been:
ST55ARR (no lack of self-esteem with that lady)
A1BBA (not Bjorn, but definitely a fan)
1BEX (not David, but bags of money)
AL04MEL (think about that one)
JE55HUA (at a Christian Conference Centre – the guest speaker?)
T50COD (the owner of an angling shop)
Well, I know it’s sad, but it passes the time when I’m driving and I try not to get too distracted. I don’t have a personalised number plate myself as yet, although I do try to make something of my own registration YT03NSU (Young Tony...Not So Unusual). But I do wonder what makes people pay a lot of money (often thousands of pounds) to have their own unique registration.
It may be a simple case of vanity, it might be a bit of fun, it may be the need to be noticed, or the desire to stand out. It might just be an easy way of remembering which car is yours in the parking lot! All of us want to feel we are recognised and acknowledge in some way, and I guess have a unique registration can help with our sense of identity.
I wouldn’t say No to 7ONY if I came across it, but I’m glad my identity is built on a stronger foundation than my car’s make or registration. It’s grounded in Christ, and the fact that I am in him (2Corinthains 5:17). I have worth and value because I am God’s child and have been redeemed at great cost. I matter to God, whether or not other people notice, and nothing can change that.
Monday, 6 June 2011
How's my driving?
I have spent a lot of time during the past few weeks driving up and down the motorways of Britain. This has given me a lot of time to reflect, and the next couple of blogs will have a ‘motorway’ theme!
Lorries and white vans are regarded by many motorists to be a menace, and often are. Occasionally you see one with a sign on the back that says ‘How am I driving?’, and gives a number to phone with feedback. It’s one way that companies can encourage their staff to drive safely. I don’t know if they get much feedback (positive or negative), and I’ve never called myself. It’s the ones without a phone number that I would like to call!
Anyway, it has made me ponder what I consider to be the worst driving offences, and I quickly compiled in my head a list of the most common. I wonder if you agree with me?
(1) Hogging the centre lane on motorways when the inside lane is clear for miles (not literally).
(2) Tailgating. Everyone hates it, but why do so many do it?
(3) Undertaking, that is overtaking on the inside. Increasingly common and still dangerous.
(4) Parking in disabled bays at motorway services when obviously fit, healthy and usually young.
(5) Driving on roundabouts without any kind of signalling. Are we supposed to guess?
(6) Driving on roundabouts without any kind of signalling whilst talking on the phone.
(7) Lorries that overtake other lorries on hills whilst travelling at only 1mph more.
I could go on, of course, but I don’t want to appear to be a grumpy old man...
Anyway, my meditation was not all negative. I began to think, what if Christian people had to wear a sign saying ‘How am I living?’, together with a number to call for feedback. That would be a challenge wouldn’t it?
Our lives are meant to be living epistles, known and read by all, but what do they say? Do we get into bad ways of behaving and speaking that annoy and irritate others and are a bad witness to our faith?
The apostle Paul recognised the power of a person’s life. He not only sought to set a good example himself, but encouraged his young disciple Timothy to do the same: ‘Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in life, in love, in faith and purity.’ (1Timothy 4:12)
There are five crucial areas of life:
Speech - how is my conversation?
Life - how is my behaviour?
Love - how is my concern for others?
Faith - how is my trust in God?
Purity - how is my thought life?
We are invited to examine our own lives and to reflect on our own behaviour, correcting anything that is amiss. But what if we invited a trusted friend, who knew us well and had our best interests at heart, to give us feedback and to hold us accountable in these five areas? Would our living improve?
Makes you think, doesn’t it?
And by the way, if you see me on the motorway, the number is ......
Lorries and white vans are regarded by many motorists to be a menace, and often are. Occasionally you see one with a sign on the back that says ‘How am I driving?’, and gives a number to phone with feedback. It’s one way that companies can encourage their staff to drive safely. I don’t know if they get much feedback (positive or negative), and I’ve never called myself. It’s the ones without a phone number that I would like to call!
Anyway, it has made me ponder what I consider to be the worst driving offences, and I quickly compiled in my head a list of the most common. I wonder if you agree with me?
(1) Hogging the centre lane on motorways when the inside lane is clear for miles (not literally).
(2) Tailgating. Everyone hates it, but why do so many do it?
(3) Undertaking, that is overtaking on the inside. Increasingly common and still dangerous.
(4) Parking in disabled bays at motorway services when obviously fit, healthy and usually young.
(5) Driving on roundabouts without any kind of signalling. Are we supposed to guess?
(6) Driving on roundabouts without any kind of signalling whilst talking on the phone.
(7) Lorries that overtake other lorries on hills whilst travelling at only 1mph more.
I could go on, of course, but I don’t want to appear to be a grumpy old man...
Anyway, my meditation was not all negative. I began to think, what if Christian people had to wear a sign saying ‘How am I living?’, together with a number to call for feedback. That would be a challenge wouldn’t it?
Our lives are meant to be living epistles, known and read by all, but what do they say? Do we get into bad ways of behaving and speaking that annoy and irritate others and are a bad witness to our faith?
The apostle Paul recognised the power of a person’s life. He not only sought to set a good example himself, but encouraged his young disciple Timothy to do the same: ‘Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in life, in love, in faith and purity.’ (1Timothy 4:12)
There are five crucial areas of life:
Speech - how is my conversation?
Life - how is my behaviour?
Love - how is my concern for others?
Faith - how is my trust in God?
Purity - how is my thought life?
We are invited to examine our own lives and to reflect on our own behaviour, correcting anything that is amiss. But what if we invited a trusted friend, who knew us well and had our best interests at heart, to give us feedback and to hold us accountable in these five areas? Would our living improve?
Makes you think, doesn’t it?
And by the way, if you see me on the motorway, the number is ......
Friday, 13 May 2011
My rucksack means everything to me
My rucksack means everything to me. It is my mobile office, and accompanies me everywhere. I am never without it, home or away; it contains my whole life: laptop, ipod, mobile phone, camera, Bible, teaching materials, diary, key information and so on. Think ‘handbag’, but many times more.
So how could I forget it last week when Evelyn and I made the long five hour drive down to Ashburnham in Sussex to lead a retreat? It is inexplicable. All I can say is that after greeting the retreatants, and as I began to prepare for the welcome session, a dark cloud descended upon me as the terrible realisation dawned – my beloved rucksack was still in Yorkshire. No teaching notes, no music, no computer, no Bible... and no way to get hold of it. I have forgotten socks before, even my shirts, but never ever my rucksack.
It meant a quick prayer to the Sovereign Lord, reminding him that he is supposed to be in control of these situations, and a somewhat bumbling start to the retreat. After that I was able to borrow an antiquated CD player (what a come down after advancing to the sophistication of an ipod touch and JBL sound dock!), find a Gideon’s Bible in my room, and take up an offering of assorted CDs from the assembled group. At least we had some music to sing to, even though a bit dated and without the words. And since I had remembered the notes for the participants, I had a basis for my talks and could at least give the appearance of knowing what I was going on about.
With a great deal of goodwill and understanding from the group we got underway, and it actually proved to be a very rewarding time despite the shaky start. God was still in our 80s style worship, and the teaching seemed helpful. But a nagging thought persisted in my mind. Why had I forgotten such a vital component of the retreat? Was God trying to teach me something?
Various thoughts came to mind as the week went on. Perhaps I had made an idol out of my ipod Touch (another example of an apple leading to a fall?) Maybe I was too dependent on technology and needing to rely more on the Holy Spirit? Maybe the music I had chosen wasn’t what God wanted us to use? It was really only on the last morning that I think I got the point.
The final session (we had based the retreat on the book of Nehemiah) was about dealing with anger. In the final chapter (13), Nehemiah rather loses his cool with those who had gone back on the reforms he had introduced, and starts laying hands on people and pulling out their hair. He had obviously not seen the film Anger Management (although it was released ages ago).
As well as looking at the causes of our anger, I had planned to share a little about how often the person we are most angry with is our self. I know from personal experience that I get very frustrated with myself sometimes, and berate myself for every fault and failing. I am kind to others, but harsh with myself. It is a tendency I have been more aware of recently, and realising it is not healthy. How can we be compassionate to others if we are not first compassionate to ourselves?
As I shared with the group I had a sudden realisation. Forgetting my rucksack had provided a perfect opportunity for some top-drawer self-flagellation, some fully justified beating up of myself for such folly. ‘You stupid boy’ I could have screamed at my Inner Child with scorn and disdain. ‘Why don’t you take more care!’ And yet I had not. I was panicked for a moment, but I hadn’t blamed myself, or even my wife, or the neighbours, or even Nick Clegg. And I had refused to play the blame game, realising that it was a mistake, and another reminder of my frail humanity (and getting older?).
I take it to be an indicator of a little progress in at least one part of my life. I am learning to be a more gracious and forgiving to myself, and as I accept my own imperfections and shortcomings it will perhaps make me more understanding and less critical of the mistakes and failures of others.
So the ‘forgotten rucksack’ turned out to be a visual sermon for us all (even though it wasn’t present!), and when I finally got home at the end of the week, there it was, exactly where I had left it, all packed up and waiting to go....
And no, I didn’t kick it.
So how could I forget it last week when Evelyn and I made the long five hour drive down to Ashburnham in Sussex to lead a retreat? It is inexplicable. All I can say is that after greeting the retreatants, and as I began to prepare for the welcome session, a dark cloud descended upon me as the terrible realisation dawned – my beloved rucksack was still in Yorkshire. No teaching notes, no music, no computer, no Bible... and no way to get hold of it. I have forgotten socks before, even my shirts, but never ever my rucksack.
It meant a quick prayer to the Sovereign Lord, reminding him that he is supposed to be in control of these situations, and a somewhat bumbling start to the retreat. After that I was able to borrow an antiquated CD player (what a come down after advancing to the sophistication of an ipod touch and JBL sound dock!), find a Gideon’s Bible in my room, and take up an offering of assorted CDs from the assembled group. At least we had some music to sing to, even though a bit dated and without the words. And since I had remembered the notes for the participants, I had a basis for my talks and could at least give the appearance of knowing what I was going on about.
With a great deal of goodwill and understanding from the group we got underway, and it actually proved to be a very rewarding time despite the shaky start. God was still in our 80s style worship, and the teaching seemed helpful. But a nagging thought persisted in my mind. Why had I forgotten such a vital component of the retreat? Was God trying to teach me something?
Various thoughts came to mind as the week went on. Perhaps I had made an idol out of my ipod Touch (another example of an apple leading to a fall?) Maybe I was too dependent on technology and needing to rely more on the Holy Spirit? Maybe the music I had chosen wasn’t what God wanted us to use? It was really only on the last morning that I think I got the point.
The final session (we had based the retreat on the book of Nehemiah) was about dealing with anger. In the final chapter (13), Nehemiah rather loses his cool with those who had gone back on the reforms he had introduced, and starts laying hands on people and pulling out their hair. He had obviously not seen the film Anger Management (although it was released ages ago).
As well as looking at the causes of our anger, I had planned to share a little about how often the person we are most angry with is our self. I know from personal experience that I get very frustrated with myself sometimes, and berate myself for every fault and failing. I am kind to others, but harsh with myself. It is a tendency I have been more aware of recently, and realising it is not healthy. How can we be compassionate to others if we are not first compassionate to ourselves?
As I shared with the group I had a sudden realisation. Forgetting my rucksack had provided a perfect opportunity for some top-drawer self-flagellation, some fully justified beating up of myself for such folly. ‘You stupid boy’ I could have screamed at my Inner Child with scorn and disdain. ‘Why don’t you take more care!’ And yet I had not. I was panicked for a moment, but I hadn’t blamed myself, or even my wife, or the neighbours, or even Nick Clegg. And I had refused to play the blame game, realising that it was a mistake, and another reminder of my frail humanity (and getting older?).
I take it to be an indicator of a little progress in at least one part of my life. I am learning to be a more gracious and forgiving to myself, and as I accept my own imperfections and shortcomings it will perhaps make me more understanding and less critical of the mistakes and failures of others.
So the ‘forgotten rucksack’ turned out to be a visual sermon for us all (even though it wasn’t present!), and when I finally got home at the end of the week, there it was, exactly where I had left it, all packed up and waiting to go....
And no, I didn’t kick it.
Thursday, 14 April 2011
The great Easter Egg offer
I received a voucher today by email for a ‘free treat egg’ from Thorntons, the famous chocolate makers here in England. Since I am partial to chocolate, and this particular brand, it seemed like too good an offer to miss, so I followed the instructions and printed off my personalised voucher entitling me to a free egg. I’m looking forward to collecting it later today.
For many Easter is associated with chocolate, and especially with Easter eggs – from the small creamy ones made by Cadbury’s, to the larger shell like eggs that contain a few chocolates as well. But of course the true meaning of Easter is to be found not in confectionery, but in the more serious matter of the death and resurrection of Jesus - and the truly amazing offer of forgiveness and eternal life that results from that momentous event. I know chocolate makes us feel good, but nothing compares with the knowledge that your sins are forgiven, your conscience is clear, and you are restored to relationship with God.
As I read the small print on my Easter egg offer I began to ponder the difference between that made by the chocolate manufacturers and that made by God. Thorntons were very careful to protect themselves with two important caveats.
(1) The free eggs are ‘subject to availability’ and only available ‘while stocks last’. There is no guarantee that all of their shops will stock them, or that they will be able to meet the demand following their generous offer. How different that is to the gospel of grace, that is freely available to all people at all times. There is no fear that the supply of God’s mercy and forgiveness will be exhausted.
(2) The manufacturer ‘reserves the right to withdraw the offer at any time’. Since it is only on for two days anyway, it makes me feel I need to get down there in a hurry before they change their minds. Such a clause doesn’t communicate a sincere desire to be generous, does it? Again, what a contrast to the offer of salvation. God’s invitation will never be withdrawn. It is for all time, and available to any who want to receive it. The generosity of God knows no limits and is without reservation.
Listen to God’s gracious offer as expressed by the prophet Isaiah:
‘Come now, let us reason together,’ says the Lord. ‘Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall be like wool.’ (Isaiah 1:18)
Here is a straightforward offer of forgiveness and cleansing. No ifs or buts, no provisos or qualifications, no limitations or restrictions. An offer freely available to all who will receive, at any time and in any place.
Well, since starting this blog I have been into town and collected my egg. Yes, they still had stocks, and yes, the offer was still good. It was only a small egg, worth about 30p, but an egg is an egg and I’ll certainly enjoy it this evening. But I know which offer gladdens my heart the most, and this Easter I will be asking the Holy Spirit to remind me once again just how blessed I am to know the real meaning of Easter.
For many Easter is associated with chocolate, and especially with Easter eggs – from the small creamy ones made by Cadbury’s, to the larger shell like eggs that contain a few chocolates as well. But of course the true meaning of Easter is to be found not in confectionery, but in the more serious matter of the death and resurrection of Jesus - and the truly amazing offer of forgiveness and eternal life that results from that momentous event. I know chocolate makes us feel good, but nothing compares with the knowledge that your sins are forgiven, your conscience is clear, and you are restored to relationship with God.
As I read the small print on my Easter egg offer I began to ponder the difference between that made by the chocolate manufacturers and that made by God. Thorntons were very careful to protect themselves with two important caveats.
(1) The free eggs are ‘subject to availability’ and only available ‘while stocks last’. There is no guarantee that all of their shops will stock them, or that they will be able to meet the demand following their generous offer. How different that is to the gospel of grace, that is freely available to all people at all times. There is no fear that the supply of God’s mercy and forgiveness will be exhausted.
(2) The manufacturer ‘reserves the right to withdraw the offer at any time’. Since it is only on for two days anyway, it makes me feel I need to get down there in a hurry before they change their minds. Such a clause doesn’t communicate a sincere desire to be generous, does it? Again, what a contrast to the offer of salvation. God’s invitation will never be withdrawn. It is for all time, and available to any who want to receive it. The generosity of God knows no limits and is without reservation.
Listen to God’s gracious offer as expressed by the prophet Isaiah:
‘Come now, let us reason together,’ says the Lord. ‘Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall be like wool.’ (Isaiah 1:18)
Here is a straightforward offer of forgiveness and cleansing. No ifs or buts, no provisos or qualifications, no limitations or restrictions. An offer freely available to all who will receive, at any time and in any place.
Well, since starting this blog I have been into town and collected my egg. Yes, they still had stocks, and yes, the offer was still good. It was only a small egg, worth about 30p, but an egg is an egg and I’ll certainly enjoy it this evening. But I know which offer gladdens my heart the most, and this Easter I will be asking the Holy Spirit to remind me once again just how blessed I am to know the real meaning of Easter.
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