Flexible and Fleet-of-Foot

 Reading through the Nativity Narratives in the Gospels, I am struck by how responsive and ready to change their minds and their direction the various main players were. Just a few examples will serve to illustrate this.

When he learned that Mary was pregnant, Joseph had a plan to quietly break off the engagement. But the message of an angel in a dream led to him very quickly changing the plan.

When the Wise Men (also in a dream) were warned not to return to Herod, they changed plans and left for home by another road.

And again, when Joseph was warned (and, yes, yet again in a dream!) about Herod’s murderous intent he and Mary and the infant Jesus were quick to flee to Egypt.

Plans are changed; decisions are made swiftly; quick action is undertaken; people are flexible and ‘fleet of foot’ when God speaks and prompts and warns.

Flexible and ‘fleet of foot’. Are these descriptions you would tend to associate with the church? As a Minister of the Church of Scotland I fear that we are more often somewhat sclerotic and slow, in danger of being captive to a ‘risk averse’ culture, and sometimes more concerned with law than with grace.

And I find it hurts me to have and to share these observation (with which you may – of course – disagree!) because I love the Church of Scotland. I have been truly blessed to serve in it for 40 years.

But it seems to me that sometimes we can get preoccupied by secondary matters, imprisoned by practice and procedure, and held back by structures and tradition that we seem to have lost the ability to be flexible and swift in our responses.

Or almost so…

…for it has been noticeable that this pandemic has forced us to be very flexible and very quick to respond and act, especially at a local level. There has been so much imagination and innovation! And even the procedures and structures have managed to just about keep pace! (And hats off to those who have worked so hard at the ‘centre’ to keep us swiftly informed, offer helpful guidance etc. That has been much appreciated!).

Of course, all of this flexibility, innovation and quick response has been born out of necessity.

But that begs the question as to why we have not viewed rapid change and the adopting of new ways and a flexible response as being necessary before this crisis hit us. There was (and is) a much bigger crisis challenging the church and it has been facing us for several decades now. Have we not heard the promptings of the Spirit, been alert to the voice of God, noticed the angels’ messages?

And when all of this pandemic has passed, will we learn from our experience and remain able to be flexible and ‘fleet of foot’, or will we (as I fear may be the case) revert to type and get bogged down in our slow and sclerotic ways as we gradually drift further towards irrelevance and ineffectiveness?

I do not fear for the future of Christ’s Church, for that is secure as he has himself promised. Even the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. But that promise holds no guarantee for future of the Church of Scotland as a denomination / organisation / structure.

I really hope that despite my observations, the Church might now have learned (at last) how to respond quickly and act decisively when required. That we might break out of our legalistic and structure bound ways and become flexible and ‘fleet of foot’.

Tough Times

These have been very difficult times.

When we first began to hear about this coronavirus we little imagined the severe impact it would have on all of our lives. When we initially entered into lockdown in March, who would have thought that we would still be facing the restrictions we are enduring all these months later? As we began to gently ease out of the tightest restrictions back in the summer, we did not envisage going backwards again, and certainly not so far backwards. And while some may have questioned the wisdom of the initial lifting of restrictions for Christmas, few would have been expecting that we would have been so suddenly slammed into reverse with Christmas plans seemingly snatched from us at the last moment.

And with a new lockdown so quickly following whatever restricted Christmas we can manage, these do indeed feel like tough times.

In our own family, our plans for Christmas Day have now been abandoned. There were tears in abundance on Saturday evening.

For many, the hope that they might not have to spend all of Christmas Day alone has been snatched away and they will have had a bleak few days contemplating that.

For some (such as those who work in hospitality or retail) there will be the deep anxiety about their future livelihood.

Tough times.

All of these things touch our own family in various ways and are never far from mind, not least in the wakeful night-time hours.

But many folks have much more to contend with, including months of isolation and living on their own (which will seem now to be far from ending). Inability to visit loved ones in hospital or give them a hug in the care home. The loss of a dear one because of COVID-19.

Tough times.

While acknowledging that others may be facing worse privations than we are does help to put our own difficulties into perspective and can help us to ‘count our blessings’, it does not take away from or lessen the difficulty of our own situation.

And whatever else is the case, simply saying to ourselves or others, ‘cheer up’, ‘look on the bright side’, ‘it could be worse’ or whatever, does not change the reality. Nor do pious platitudes. Please spare me these!

But for me it does bring a degree of comfort and hope to recall that Jesus was born into a difficult situation when many folks – including his own family - faced tough times. No room when he was born; laid in a manger; fleeing as a refugee from the violence of Herod, and so on.

He has faced darkness, difficulty and tough times. He has experienced and known such things. He understands. I find that helps me to feel hope and brings me a degree of comfort.

And, as I write this, it is 21^st December; the shortest day. From tomorrow the days get longer and the darkness recedes.

Good!

 

All I want for Christmas is...

Nowadays, what probably comes to mind for most people when they hear the words ‘All I want for Christmas is…’ will be Mariah Carey’s 1994 hit ‘All I want for Christmas is you’. (And now I’ll bet you are going to have that going around in your head all day!)

Those of us of a somewhat older generation are more likely to remember ‘All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth’! And it is this second one that has been very much in my mind this last wee while. For I broke one of my front teeth in a DIY mishap and was very keen to get it fixed before Christmas. Not an easy ask with dentists restricted in what they can do at the moment and with appointments being somewhat less available. 

However, I am very pleased to say that yesterday I visited the dentist (or did the tooth fairy visit me??) and my broken front tooth has been repaired! I haven’t stopped smiling since (and smiling is something I have tried to avoid this last wee while… my family might say that smiling is something I have been avoiding for the last 64 years… but that’s another story!)

All of that has got me thinking about what we do really want for Christmas.

Most years I imagine that my fellow Ministers might say that what they most want is a rest! (This year it is not quite that simple.) I am very sure that this year a rest will be top of the list for many folks; teachers, retail workers (some at least), NHS frontline workers (if they can get a rest!), delivery drivers and so on.

As I write this it seems that we are still going to be allowed to have some limited family gathering at Christmas, although that seems to be subject to ongoing discussion and review. All I want for Christmas is the chance to be with some of my loved ones? Yes, I suppose that is what many of us will want for Christmas if it is possible.

However, given that Christmas is the celebration of the birth of Christ what do we want for Christmas that honours and reflects that central focus of this celebration?

‘Peace on earth and goodwill to all’? Well, yes, most of us would want to echo the angels’ message in this wish.

But this morning as I write this, what I would really wish for is the space to ponder, reflect upon, explore and share something of the deep wonder and meaning of the Incarnation, of what it means that ‘the Word become flesh and dwelt among us’. In church at this time of year, we tell and re-tell the story and we read and re-read the birth narratives, but I fear we do not really dig deeper as often or as fully as we might. And then, before you know it, it is all over until next year…

Perhaps this year I will get more of an opportunity for pondering and wondering, exploring and sharing. I hope so.

A Change of Direction

Yesterday evening I was travelling in the car towards the south side of Glasgow (on legitimate and necessary work related matters – just so you know!).

As usual, I had put on the Satnav system as there are some alternative routes available and if one of these gets congested then the Satnav tells me and directs me to another route. Useful when time is a bit squeezed… as it was!

At one point the Satnav took me in a slightly different way (due to road works I think). I got a little confused by the Satnav instructions and the road layout and took a wrong turn. Very quickly I was alerted to this error and told to make a U-turn when safe to do so! I did so, and proceeded on my way without further incident and arrived in time… just!

Of course, if you end up going in the wrong direction you need to change direction and turn around and go in the correct way. It is obvious and common sense. If you find yourself going in the wrong direction and you decide to persevere in that way then not only is it utter madness, but you will get ever further away from your destination.

So, then, why do ‘U-turns’ get such a bad press? Why do politicians seek to avoid them and protest that they have not made one (even when they clearly have)? Why do newspaper headlines gloat about ‘U-turns’ when a government changes a decision?

Why do we as individuals so often persist in some bloody-minded manner in  pursuing the wrong road rather than ‘lose face’ (as it is seen, for some reason) and change direction, turn around and go in the correct way towards our destination?

John the Baptist called people to ‘repent’ which really just means to turn around; to turn from going the wrong way towards going the right way; a change of direction; a U-turn, if you like.

Imagine if Joseph had not had a change of mind and changed direction when he had ‘planned to dismiss [Mary] quietly’ when he discovered she was pregnant? (Matthew 1: 19)

What if Mary and Joseph had stuck to what we presume were their original plans of returning from Bethlehem to Nazareth and had not ‘changed direction’ and fled to Egypt because they had been warned about Herod’s intentions?

There is nothing in the slightest sensible or honourable in being determined to pursue the wrong direction! If we are going the wrong way then it is time to change direction. And if that involves a ‘U-turn’ then so be it. That is surely not a bad thing!

 

 

Hopes and Fears

Life is full of hopes and fears, is it not? 

Recent vaccine developments in relation to COVID-19 have raised real hopes that we may at last be able to contain, control and perhaps ultimately conquer this virus. And yet this may be a way off yet and still there are fears for individuals and society, for health and livelihoods. Hopes and fears.

A few weeks ago one of our fears as a family was that we would not be able to gather for Christmas as usual. Indeed, we were fully prepared for that and ready to accommodate that eventuality and accept it, albeit with regret. Then the decision was taken to allow family gatherings within strict limits. Hope was re-born… until these last few days when doubts about this plan have again been raised. As I write this we await the further guidance as a result of ongoing consultations between the governments of the four nations. Again we are caught between hopes and fears. (Just for the record, while I was relieved and delighted that we could gather with two other households of our family to celebrate Christmas, I always had an uneasy feeling about that decision, and doubted that it was in fact the correct one. But I now think that it is likely too late for our governments to back off from it, and people will pay the price.) Hopes and fears.

On a considerably more trivial note, I took my car into the garage this morning for a service. As well as the regular service there are one or two things requiring some attention. Now I find myself awaiting the inevitable phone call and the possibility that the work required will be both extensive and expensive! I may be pleasantly surprised, however….! Hope and fears.

In the hymn, ‘O little town of Bethlehem’ that line appears ‘The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight’.

Someone commented that this is ‘one of the most beautiful and theologically pregnant lines in any hymn’.

I think that may be a bit of an overstatement, but I get the point and I agree that it is a rich and deep line.

As God’s people of old looked to the future, to a longed for new age and the coming of Messiah, they had hopes and fears aplenty. As we, in our turn and time, look forward to the dawning of a new age, to the new heaven and new earth promised in the Bible, there will be hopes and fears too.

This post is not really the place to explore what all of these may be nor their theological significance. I may write a book some time!

I simply want to acknowledge that hopes and fears are both part of our experience, in the trivial as well as in the more significant aspects of our lives and our living. As we look to the future hopes and fears may be inevitable and unavoidable.

But all of them are met in Jesus. He fulfils our hopes and confronts our fears. 

Past, Future and Present

This may come as a huge shock to… well, absolutely nobody! But I love this season of Advent. There are all kinds of reasons for this and over the years I have blogged during Advent I have mentioned many of these reasons time and again.

I suspect that part of it, though, is my personality. I enjoy anticipating things, and can sometimes get as much (or even more) enjoyment out of anticipation than out of the anticipated event itself!

But my personality oddities are not really what my blog is all about!

I also appreciate the way in which the bible readings and the themes of this Season cause us to focus on things we might otherwise avoid; the mystery of ‘unanswered prayer’, waiting and patience, suffering and darkness, and – of course – the Second Coming of the Lord (however, we understand that).

In other words, if we use this season to focus not simply on the fact that Christ came as the Babe of Bethlehem, Child in a Manger, but also on his still awaited return then we will have to think through some aspects of our faith and theology that we might otherwise be tempted to skirt around.

He came, but he will also come. Christ’s coming is past and is future.

I was struck anew by the words of one of the Advent collects; ‘…inspire the ministers and stewards of your truth to turn our disobedient hearts to you, that when Christ shall come again to be our judge we may stand with confidence before his glory…’.

But then that started me thinking that it is not just about past and future. It is about present too.

He came, he will come and he comes in the present too.

If I fail to discern and discover his coming in the present, if I do not hear or heed his coming each and every day, if I cannot recognise or receive him in the present, then will I really be ready to greet his eventual return or ‘stand with confidence before his glory’?

 

Fragile and Frail

I enjoy reading these ‘What if’ books that look at historical events and speculate on what might have happened had just one thing happened differently. One of the classic ‘what if’ scenarios is what would have happened had the assassination plot against Hitler been successful. How would things have changed? What are the various possible outcomes? And so on.

This is called ‘counterfactual history’ and has been defined as ‘the idea of conjecturing on what did not happen, or what might have happened, in order to understand what did happen’. Well, that’s what they say… or at least what some people say. Many historians regard it as no more than entertainment, and consider that its speculative approach adds little or nothing to real historical research.

So, take your pick!

But I still find it interesting and it helps me to think about how so often it is seemingly small things that make such a huge difference.

Think about the Birth of Jesus. I realise that behind what I am about to say lie enormous theological issues concerning the plan providence and protection of God, and issues of divine sovereignty and human free will and so forth.

But I have often found myself asking ‘what if’, when I hear or read the Nativity accounts in the Gospels. What if Mary had resisted and refused? What if Joseph had not been willing to take Mary as his wife? What if Herod had been ‘successful’ in his murderous intent and the infant Jesus had been killed?

 

That in turn has led me to go on and ponder still more ‘What if’ scenarios. I’ll leave it for you to think through what these might be!

As I say, I know we are dealing here with very big underlying theological issues. My mind goes there too and often wrestles with them.

However, that is not my point today. My observation is simply this; that it was not only the little baby Jesus, Emmanuel, God with us, the Word made Flesh, who was fragile and frail. The whole business of the Incarnation seems fragile and frail.

But that does seem to be God’s way. Fragility and frailty are evidenced in both the Crib and the Cross.

Yes, I am conscious too of the mighty works of God who reveals his power.

But we also need to ponder this frailty and fragility and reflect upon it and what it reveals to us about our God and his ways, and what it says to us about our own situation.

Why do we constantly pursue strength and security, regarding them as undeniably desirable, and regard fragility and frailty as necessarily negative things?

Answers on a postcard please to… ?!?

 

Wearied and Washed Out

 

Throughout these last few months, when I have chatted to friends on Zoom, or spoken to congregational members on the phone, or communicated with folks by text, email or WhatsApp etc, I have very often asked how people are doing in the current circumstances, and I – in turn – have been asked how I am doing.

In the various responses to these enquiries, one word has been used time and again; wearied.

People are feeling fed up and frustrated, wrung out and washed out. Wearied.

And, yes, I certainly feel that too; wearied and washed out.

Spending so long within the same four walls, sitting at the same desk, day following day with monotonous similarity, phone calls to members and parishioners, Zoom meeting after Zoom meeting (and how draining are they?!)… it is all so very wearisome.

Over these last few weeks I have had a few legitimate reasons to venture out of my immediate area for both medical appointments and urgent work reasons. On these few days, just that trip and the (physically distanced!) face to face encounter with another has significantly and noticeably lifted my spirits.

And I know that I am in the fortunate position of not living on my own, and that I can step out of my door into the garden,  and I have good reason to get out most days to walk the dogs etc. How much more trying this time is for those who live on their own and have no reason to get out or lack the means for so doing. And single parents who may not have any family support close at hand must be climbing the walls and dreading the Christmas holidays.

Wearied… washed out…

I fear that sometimes we might feel guilty that we experience these feelings. Truth be told, I can feel a little guilty that I feel wearied. But, when I reflect upon that, I think that such guilt is inappropriate.

God’s people must have felt wearied when they spent generations in exile, or as they watched and waited year after year for the promised Messiah. The Psalmist tells us that he got weary crying out to God.

It is natural and normal to feel wearied in certain circumstances.

But also in the Bible there are promises to which we can turn and in which we can place our trust and our hope. Not least amongst these are the gracious words of Jesus ‘come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.’

We may feel wearied and washed out, but we also have a promise of rest and refreshment. 

Competition and Conflict

 

Just about everywhere you look at the moment there seems to be conflict and competition instead of cooperation. Maybe it’s always this way, but it does seem to me to all be at a ridiculous and unnecessary level right now.

 

Why are people disputing over who got the vaccine first or who authorised it most quickly? It’s not a race! People’s lives and the welfare of our society are at stake here!

 

Why is a defeated President not gracefully accepting that his opponent won and is instead making spurious claims and pursuing doomed lawsuits? The reputation of a nation and the good name of democracy are being threatened, and for what?

 

Why are the UK and the EU still engaged in a silly war dance which everyone knows will (sooner or later) have to end in some kind of agreement at some point? Livelihoods and economic stability are being jeopardised simply to avoid leaders appearing to ‘lose face’.  

 

It all looks like a pathetic game, and easily could be dismissed as such, were it not for the fact that all of these has the potential for such drastic and destructive consequences.

 

Winning, maintaining power, seeking position, not backing down…

 

The power games are played out between people and between parties and between nations (and – yes – sad to say, in the church too. I could wax eloquent about that, but I won’t…).

 

One day all this power play will pass and conflict and competition will be no more.

 

That is the ‘day’ foretold by the prophets; a time of ‘shalom’ - peace, harmony, health, wholeness...

 

The Day of the Lord will come.

Virus and Vaccine

I am writing this on the very day that the vaccine is being first administered in our country. It has been dubbed ‘V-Day’ by some of the media, and there is certainly a sense of hope beginning to emerge; hope that we may be beginning to turn a corner with regard to COVID-19.

 Of course, there has also been all the ludicrous and ridiculous campaigning by a motely crew of conspiracy theorists, anti-vaxxers and general nutters about how it is all just an evil plot by governments and/or some shady ‘international ruling cabal’ and/or aliens or whatever and whoever to manipulate and control us.

 Yeah, whatever…

 …but meanwhile, back in the real world V-Day – a bit like D-Day in the Second World War – does not mean that the battle is over or the struggle ended. But it does give hope that there is an end in sight and that eventually we will be able to control and contain (and perhaps ultimately even defeat) this nasty coronavirus.

Hope and promise… these are important Advent themes.

Advent is a time when we prepare to celebrate the coming of Christ as the Babe of Bethlehem. Hope and promise are fulfilled. And yet Advent is also a time when we recognise that hope has not yet been finally fulfilled and that the promise still awaits its day. We live in these ‘in-between’ times.

With regard to virus and vaccine, in terms of our every day experience for the time being, nothing in fact has changed. We are still living under considerable restrictions and need to follow particular guidance and are still in danger of catching or spreading this nasty virus. And yet with the vaccine, everything has changed – if only potentially at this stage. Hope is kindled and a promise held out of better days ahead.

Yes, it is a bit like Advent.

Words of Warning

For many Christians, the time of Advent is a season when the focus of Bible reading turns to the prophets in the Old Testament. After all ‘Prophets foretold him, infant of wonder’.

But the prophets also spoke words of judgement and warning.

In many ways John the Baptist was a successor to the Old Testament prophets. As well as his message of preparation (‘Prepare the way of the Lord’) and his call to repentance, he too issued words of warning (‘Bear fruit worthy of repentance…’, ‘every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down…’ and so on).

Of course, not everyone heeded the warnings of the prophets. Indeed, the tendency seems to have been to ignore their warnings. People listen to that to which they want to listen. People heed that to which they choose to pay heed. People believe what they want.

It is worth us pausing and asking ourselves to what extent we too can be guilty of dismissing those messages that do not suit us or sit well with us and to what extent we believe what we want to believe.

Now, in what I am about to say I am not drawing parallels between the biblical prophets and any of our national leaders or scientific advisors etc. Hardly!

But I do wonder if our apparent human default position of believing what suits us, dismissing that which is inconvenient and ignoring warnings that don’t fit with our preferred way of living is playing out in the present circumstances of pandemic restrictions.

Those who know me well will be aware that I am no apologist for either the Westminster or Holyrood governments or their respective leaders. What is more I tend to be a little bit of a libertarian and a critic of some ‘nanny state’ attitudes. I worry a lot about our increasingly surveillance oriented society and so on.

But I also  believe that I am called to love my fellow humans, to take all reasonable steps to protect others from harm, and to show community responsibility and solidarity. And given that I am not an expert in matters of virology, epidemiology or healthcare provision I therefore feel I have a duty to heed the words of warning and play by the rules, whether or not they make sense to me, whether or not they are convenient, whether or not I find it frustrating, whether or not it seems to me to be consistent or rational. Of course everyone in positions of responsibility must be held to account. But I am not in any expert position to opine.

But I am – as a Minister of the Church – in a position of a little influence and responsibility. And it worries me and bothers me when I read and hear comments by fellow Ministers (and others in positions of community leadership) casting doubts on or questioning the guidance we are being offered. After all, we know little about matters of epidemiology or so on. But we are supposed to know something about leadership and social responsibility and compassion towards and care for our fellow human beings.

And we know something too about how, through the generations, from the times of the prophets onwards, people have displayed a tendency not to heed the words of warning, and have ended up paying the price.

Just sayin’….

The Problem of Prayer

 To address the question of prayer, its nature and its purpose, would require a book… or several. Even to look more specifically at the mystery of what prayer is, the question of the relationship between our prayers and God’s will, or the challenge of unanswered prayer would take a lot of time and a lot of words… and we would still end up with a mystery at the end of it all!

But wrestling with these issues is not a new thing. In the Bible there is, on the one hand, repeated affirmations of the efficacy of prayer, and - on the other hand - also laments at unanswered prayer.

Perhaps ‘mystery’ is the right word!

This is something that I often find myself reflecting upon in this Advent Season.

For long generations, God’s people had been looking and longing for Messiah to come. They prayed for Messiah’s coming. And for generation after generation their prayer was seemingly unanswered.

And then, when the Messiah did come, the reality was so different from what they had looked and longed for, prayed and pleaded for that few even noticed, or imagined that their prayers had been answered.

That is an arresting thought, at least it is for me.

Their prayers were not answered for generations and then when they were they failed to recognise the answer to their prayers.

 

What does that teach us about prayer, patience and perception, I wonder?

What might it say to me about how prayers have been or may be answered in my life? Do I even notice when they are answered, or am I expecting something so different from the answer that has been offered, that I fail to recognise the answer God has given?

There is a lot to think about in all of this… and I do think a lot about it all!

And perhaps sometimes it is just a case of reflecting on it all and living with the questions rather then rushing for the answers.

A mystery indeed.

 

Childlike or Childish?

‘I get a bad press!’ This is a constant cry of mine in the family. My dear loved ones (bless them!) are always accusing me of being grumpy, bad-tempered, a killjoy, devoid of fun, and most certainly not in any way full of child-like joy, delight or anticipation. It is simply  not true! I am inexplicably misunderstood and unfairly maligned. I get a  bad press. Honest!

Just this morning there was a genuine leap of child-like joy and excitement when I looked out the window and saw that, during the night, snow had fallen and it was lying on the ground, the cars, and the branches.

It was (and is) beautiful. I am genuinely looking forward to venturing out with the dogs in a short while to enjoy the snow.

What I do struggle with is childishness… the pettiness, huffiness, and immature behaviour indulged in by some adults and even some world leaders.

 But I equally struggle with those who consider themselves mature grown ups who cannot embrace their inner child and refuse to set aside cynicism and weary ‘worldly-wisdom’.

 Our faith certainly does not encourage us to persist in childishness, but it most certainly does call us to adopt child-likeness. That does not mean we lay aside our maturity or even our critical facilities. Certainly not! But it does mean that, like children, there is a place for trust, anticipation, excitement, joy, and simple pleasures.

 ‘It is all about the children’ people often say of Christmas. And when they say it they are not always being cynical or dismissive.  Sometimes people seem to say it in a wistful but indulgent manner. It is almost as if they wish they could still hold onto the wonder and magic of Christmas, but they can do so no longer and can only enjoy the season by taking pleasure in the joy of children. And no harm in that. Children bring a special innocence, curiosity, longing, and wonder to Christmas.

But it is not ‘all about the children’ if by that we mean it is not about everyone. The birth of Jesus as Saviour was announced as good news of joy for the whole world! It is for all of us.

But it can only be truly appreciated, understood and received by those who are prepared to be child-like. Jesus said ‘unless you change and become like little children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven’. So perhaps it is all about the children if by that we mean all of us as children.

Wonder, joy, trust, anticipation, excitement… lot’s to think about and ponder…

…but I must go now… the snow is still lying and I want to go and play in it!

Prepare

Preparations this year are – of necessity – taking a slightly different form. We cannot plan for parties. Christmas dinner will  be limited to a few. Services may be online and if there is a Nativity Play at all it will be on ‘Zoom’.

So much will be different and so the preparation has to be different.

The danger is that even with all the differences this year (and in some cases because of them) these weeks will once again become a time of hectic and frantic preparation. And will we find the time for that more significant and important preparation; the spiritual preparation to which John the Baptist called people. ‘Prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him’?

John was calling people to prepare the way of the Lord by turning their lives anew to God, receiving forgiveness for their sins and being alert to the coming of the One who was greater than him.

Turning our lives anew to God...

Receiving forgiveness for our sins...

Being alert to His coming...

And by being alert to his coming, I don’t mean simply being ready for the remembrance and celebration of his birth in Bethlehem,  nor even his coming again in glory (although these are surely important) but alert to his continual and persistent coming to us, every day, in all moments, in those we meet, in those in need, in the situations we encounter, in creation, in Scripture and so on.

In the daily office I use in my own devotions (inspired by so-called ‘Celtic Christianity’) there is a wee phrase in morning prayer on one day of the week which I particularly love : ‘God nods and beckons to us through every stone and star’.

God is revealed in Scripture, received in Sacrament, and resides in his Church, but God also  nods and beckons to us, not only through Creation, but through other people, through circumstances. How prepared are we to discern and detect his presence and promptings?

 

Kingdom Come

 

Pretty much every day I pray these words when I use the Lord’s Prayer in my own devotions. ‘Your kingdom come’. It is a prayer that God’s rule will be established and that his realm would arrive.

 

And here we return to a theme to which I often refer, which is a key part of my theology, faith and spirituality, and which is very much part of Advent reflection. The affirmation that God’s kingdom is here but also not yet.

 

Or to put it another way, we await the full arrival of God’s coming Kingdom, but nonetheless, that coming kingdom has already come in Christ and is constantly breaking into the here and now.

 

The Kingdom has come and the Kingdom will come and meanwhile we live in these ‘in-between’ times, with all their confusion, frustration and challenge, and yet also with all the hope, as even now the coming Kingdom is breaking in.

 

 

Reality

 

It has long been a concern and an irritation that Christmas arrives before November is finished! Possibly my main reason for being annoyed at the decorations, trees, advertisements and carols appearing so early is that it does not allow the deeper (and often more difficult and darker) themes of Advent to be explored. This is something I have said before, said often and in the saying have irritated many folks.

 

In passing, I perhaps should note that I feel a little different this year as the restrictions under which we are having to live due to this pandemic are making me feel that any fairy light I see and every Christmas song I hear is more likely to evoke a smile instead of a snarl! But don’t worry… I am fairly confident that by next year normal service will have resumed!

 

But I am also hopeful that this year’s very strange and difficult circumstances might bring about another inevitable change, and one that I would welcome.

 

I would hope that the many people who dread the ‘festive season’ with its demands, might feel less pressured this year. For we are all facing a very odd and (in many respects) unwelcome Christmas, and so perhaps we will not be demanding that everyone ‘enjoys themselves’ or adopts the outward 'enforced jollity’ that is so often required of us by others.

 

Parties will be cancelled, dinners will be small, gatherings will be limited, carol services will be physically distanced and silent, hugs will be few and kisses under the mistletoe will be banned. And I can imagine that there are many folks (the recently bereaved, the financially strapped, the emotionally fragile, those with mental health challenges, and those with relationship strains - to name but some) who will be a little relieved at not being forced to ‘put on a happy face’.

 

For me, part of the irritating irony of Christmas too soon invading Advent is that so many of the themes of this season deal with these very issues of loss and longing, of wondering and waiting, of darkness and difficulty and so on. But how little of this we get to hear above the continued blare of ‘Santa Claus is coming to town’.

 

So perhaps this year it will be different. And perhaps this year we will be able to be a little more sensitive to those who cannot so easily adopt the jollity normally demanded. And perhaps this year we will discover anew that the joy, peace and hope of which Christmas speaks is not always the same as the jollity and festivity which usually prevails.

 

For many there is a different reality, and maybe this year we will have the space and the context in which to see that.

Seasons

 From a meteorological perspective, autumn ends tomorrow and winter begins on Tuesday.

 

For me the end of autumn marks the end of what has long been my favourite season. That is in part due to the beauty of the colours, the crisp mornings, and the harvest of fruits etc. It also has to do with good memories associated with autumn, especially from my days at university.

 

But the seasons come and go, and we can do nothing to stop that cycle. And I like winter too with the white of the frost and the dark of the nights. And when winter passes I will be ready for spring…

 

‘For everything there is a season…’ says the Preacher-Philosopher (Ecclesiastes 3: 1).

 

And in life too.

 

As I begin the slow countdown of months until I retire, I find myself very content with this season of my life, and looking forward to the new season soon to begin. Indeed, I am content too with the realisation that the season that lies ahead will be one of necessary slowing down (both chosen and enforced) and that this season will have its eventual and inevitable end. All of which is just fine.

 

Today is the beginning of a new season in the Christian Year: Advent.

 

I love Advent with its sense of preparation and anticipation, and also the great themes of waiting, watching, patience, and the reflection on the mysteries of God’s here but not-here realm, the now but not-yet of his rule.

 

And (as I have so often said) the celebration of Christmas is all the more special for me when I allow Advent to be Advent and as I seek to hold off the intrusive Christmas that seeks to invade this season. Contrary to the accusations that are often made against me, this is not because I am a Scrooge or a Grinch – I love Christmas! Nor is it because I am some kind of ‘liturgical fundamentalist’  (yes, that was a serious criticism of me!).

 

But I appreciate seasons, each in their time and turn, and each speaks to me in different ways and I savour and value the worth of each.

 

 

Acknowledging and Accepting

 

In my previous post which referenced my laptop disaster I made mention of the fact that I can no longer keep up with technology and this has been part of what has led to a conclusion that my days as a full-time active Minister are now numbered.  

And in an earlier post I acknowledged that (like many others) I am experiencing a bit of what I termed ‘COVID-malaise’.

I am putting both of these things down as ‘markers’ of a kind; a way of acknowledging that my current feelings may in part be affected by this malaise and may also have been triggered a bit by some technological failures. But, even taking these into account, I have spent some time in fairly sober and level-headed reflection in these pandemic months.

Now, in truth, I was always likely to be looking towards retirement at this stage. I have reached that age where one begins to count in terms of months and not years until retirement. However, before the virus hit us, I had been wondering about going on for a few years beyond retirement age, weighing up the pros and cons and so forth. At no point was I imagining that I might not be the right kind of Minister for the future or for the church that now needs to emerge. On the contrary, I thought I still had my finger on the pulse, still understood the issues, still had a vision for the new kind of church that will come to birth in the years to come.  

I no longer think that.

This is not simply about technology (although that plays a part). It is also about creativity and imagination. I observe my younger colleagues coming up with excellent and innovative ideas and effectively implementing these even in these restricted times and I realise that while I can readily see that their ideas are very good, I can also see that I was nowhere near even beginning to come up with such creative ideas. Indeed, I no longer have any clear vision as to what the future of mission , worship, pastoral care and so on will look like. The game has changed, the rules have been re-written and I – who think I have been and continue to be very creative in approach – no longer fully grasp what is going on.

 

That thought came to me as I was watching rugby this past weekend. I was listening to what the commentators were saying about the game, the tactics, the rules infringements and so on, and remembering that there was a time when I played rugby as a schoolboy. The difference between school rugby and international rugby is, of course, immense! But it is not simply that. The rules have changed, the scoring has changed and the strategy and tactics have changed too… beyond all recognition really. A few years ago I was in conversation with someone who had been a Scotland International player back in the day and he said that he struggled to understand the contemporary game.

That’s how I am feeling about Ministry – or at least, how I feel at the prospect of Ministry in the kind of church that I think needs to emerge.

One friend and colleague who has recently retired and who has been thinking similar thoughts to mine, put it this way ‘one of the major reasons for my retirement was the realisation that never mind the answers, I didn't even know what the questions are…’!

Quite.

Added to which I have read too many comments on social media etc by retired colleagues offering advice (usually unsolicited) on how to take the church forward, some of which has made me cringe. (and, just for clarity, there have also been some excellent contributions to debates and resources from retired colleagues! But usually these have been by way of support and encouragement rather than ‘advice’!)

I do not wish to be one of these self-appointed ‘wise people’ telling my younger colleagues how to do it.

This does not mean that I feel I have little to offer in Ministry. Far from it! I will be pleased to offer my support, my prayers, my care… and I hope I will long be able to lead worship and preach etc. But full-time Ministry involves more than that. It involves leadership and vision and more besides, and these now must be the responsibility of the next generation.

So I am now counting the months to retirement and to offering what I can without imagining that I can offer what I can’t!

When earlier this year I began to acknowledge the reality that I have just described it was a bit unnerving and disconcerting. But over these last few months I have come to accommodate this thought and accept it. I feel quite comfortable with recognising that the time is drawing near when I should pass over the baton and start cheering from the side-lines.

 

Blessing and Curse

 It is long been observed that technology can be both a blessing and a curse. We know that there are huge benefits that are ours because of the technological advances of recent decades. But we equally know that there are also many downsides. Before the present pandemic hit, it was widely suggested that amongst the negative impacts of technological developments was the fact that there was so much more physical distancing of people; people were relating with others less face to face and more online.

Now - in these strange days of restrictions on our meeting with others - that assessment seems rather ironic! We are required to keep physical distance and are restricted from actually meeting too many others. And so the internet has become a lifeline for us. Just imagine if this pandemic had hit 20 years ago... how would we have kept in touch, conducted worship, held meetings and so on?

But 'we have the technology' (for those of you old enough to remember, that is a quote from the seventies TV show ‘The Six Million Dollar Man’). And so we who are Ministers can record our services and people can share in worship via the internet or we can stream our actual services from church and so on.

And so it was that last Thursday I was recording Sunday’s worship in the empty church building when my laptop fell off the stand on which it was perched as it was acting as my 'tele-prompter'. Disaster! My laptop was pronounced dead at the scene.

And suddenly I discovered just how much of a 'necessity' having this laptop is in my ministry! Of course, there are other computers in the house and most of my work was backed up in the cloud (or physically). But nonetheless, this is a major inconvenience.

Technology? I love it and I loathe it... but I can't live without it.

But nor do I co-exist with it very easily or naturally. I remain a wee bit of a technological dinosaur, and one thing I have concluded during this pandemic time is that the church of tomorrow will need to be much more tech savvy than it is now or than I suspect I can be. That is but one small example of why it is that the emerging church that must surely come to birth in days to come will not be best served by the likes of me.

I must begin to plan to step aside and make way for a new generation whom I will support and for whom I will pray. But we are now in a new world, and it will not be my world.

 But all of that ‘stepping aside’ is for another post.

 For the moment, whether you love or loathe technology (or – like me – sometimes one and sometimes the other!) I invite you to ponder what life would have been like during this pandemic had it not been for computers, social media, the internet etc. If all this had happened in 1990 and not 2020, what would our lives have been like these last nine months?

 That very thought leads me to give thanks for technology!

COVID Malaise

  It is ages since I last posted on my blog.

 As I looked back in my blog folder I realised that I had planned some posts in August, but I never got the length of completing or publishing them….

 …just as well. There were three of them as part of a series ‘Emerging from Lockdown’!

 Except of course we did not quite emerge and have not properly emerged and may be some considerable time away from fully emerging!

 The whole thing has been fragile, staggered, uncertain and frustrating, and it is having a negative effect on so many of us. Not that I am criticising the governments… not at all. I think that it is very important to seek to contain and control this virus and I do not think that the decisions our politicians have to take are at all easy.

 I am simply reflecting on the fact that this ongoing situation is causing many people to experience weariness, low mood, loss of motivation, irritability etc etc. (and for some people the effect on mental health is far more severe).

 In conversation after conversation people mention these same feelings.

 I feel them all too, sometimes more and sometimes less. But this general sense of ‘COVID-malaise’ is rarely far away.

 So how do we cope with this? What are the strategies for dealing with it? Where do we find strength and positive coping mechanisms? How do we build resilience?

 I am asking the questions not providing the answers! I really don’t know. I think some of my ways of coping may be healthier than some of my other ways of coping! For me, trying to maintain a routine, a pattern of spiritual devotion, making sure I get out and about every day, exercise and so forth definitely helps. I also think I need to plan to do creative things (music, writing etc) as the few times I have engaged with these it has definitely helped.

 But the big thing is, I am missing people. I am missing spending time with people pastorally, in meetings, socially and so on. I am missing handshakes, hugs and the like. I am missing ‘normal’ worship (ie without physical distancing and face coverings and with singing!)

 It is interesting (and instructive) to realise that I miss all of that. And perhaps more than anything it is this absence that causes COVID-malaise?

 

Seasons

Returning to Glasgow has been an interesting, if somewhat strange, experience.

Not only have I returned to Glasgow where I was born and raised and where my Ministry began, to (probably) end my Ministry, or at least the full-time paid part of it.

But I have also returned to the very place, congregation and building where I was nurtured in faith.

So much to reflect upon, process and come to terms with in all of this.

One thing I have been thinking a lot about is the seasons of life.

When I was first called to Ministry, trained for Ministry and ordained to Ministry all these years ago, I was full of hope and expectation. I was always looking forward to what might yet be, to the Minister I may yet become, to what the Church might become.

Now not so much.

I suspect that this may be in part because I fear and expect that the Church in Scotland has yet to travel a still more difficult road in the years to come.

But it is also because, whatever path the Church may take, while I will remain part of it, in a couple of years or so I will no longer be so involved in shaping it. That task will be for others.

Which is in itself a sobering thought. But the baton must be passed on; the torch handed over.

For a while this disturbed and disconcerted me. But not so much now.

In this more mature part of my life there are different gifts I can offer. And I will.

Experience and wisdom do not give me the right to interfere or keep an inappropriate hand on the levers of power (if there are such, and if there are, was it ever appropriate to think we had control??)

But they remain gifts to offer by way of encouragement, counsel and prayer when such things may be sought.

After a period of confusion as I sought to come to terms with all of this, I now find myself at peace, and looking forward to the next chapter which (after the couple of years of final activity) will be less active, involved or hectic, but may yet be more fruitful in ways I cannot yet see.

After all, the spring and summer of my Ministry may now have passed. But autumn is the season of fruitfulness, is it not?