Days of Future Passed (Past)

‘Days of Future Passed’ (sic) is the name of the 1967 concept album by the Moody Blues. I suspect that it should have been ‘Days of Future Past’... but who knows?

Either way it is an intriguing title and somehow I feel it relates to Advent with the focus of this season on preparation for the celebration of the coming of Christ as Babe of Bethlehem (past) and preparation to greet his coming as Lord of all (future).

How do we prepare for the remembrance of that past day and the coming of that future day?

A less personal reflection today.

But I will be returning to some of the themes already touched upon, not least the silence of God and the absence of God.

In my first Advent blog post I mentioned the concept of ‘inaugurated eschatology’. In spite of my saying that I tended towards this view, namely that there are both "already" and "not yet" aspects to the Kingdom of God, it does not fully or adequately represent all I believe on this matter. And (you will no doubt be relieved to hear) I don’t think a blog post is the best place to explore what I do believe! (well, not in detail at least).

But in these weeks of Advent preparation and anticipation, as we look towards both the celebration of  Christ’s coming in flesh as the Babe of Bethlehem and the eventual greeting of the One who is coming again in glory (however, we understand this awaited day) we are living in the ‘in-between’ times.

Something of that makes sense, for me, of the experience we have of answered prayer, and yet so many unanswered prayers; of the experience of comfort, and yet so much ongoing suffering; of evidence of healing, yet so many unhealed; of the committed struggle and prayer and work for justice and peace in our world, and yet the reality of continued injustice, violence, inequality and oppression... and so on.

If you are really interested in all of this the there are some good books... and you could also check out the internet, of course!

But my point is that in Advent we look back to the past, when God came amongst us in the flesh of a little baby, we look forward to the future when (in whatever way we understand it) history is finally brought to its conclusion and there will be a new heaven and a new earth, and meanwhile we live in these ‘in-between’ times, with all their confusion, frustration and challenge, and yet also with all the hope.

For the God who came, and who will come is also the one who comes in the present, who breaks into our world and our lives and our experience by the Spirit who blows where she wills like the wind in the trees.

The God who came, and who will come is also the one who comes in the present who breaks into our world and our lives and our experience in Word, Sacrament and Community.

The God who came, and who will come is also the one who comes in the present who breaks into our world and our lives and our experience in the prayers, the witness and the love of God’s people.

So, in good and bad, in light and dark, let us not give up being alert to and open to the breath of God’s Spirit, nor give up joining with God’s people in listening for the Word and sharing the Sacrament as we gather as God’s Community, nor give up praying and sharing and caring in Christ’s name that God’s Kingdom may come on earth as in heaven.

In these recent days I have faced the temptation to become so focussed on my own (and my family’s) struggles that I neglect these things I have mentioned.

But still we have to remain faithful.

I have to remain faithful.

Let’s keep on keeping on that the ‘days of future past’ may become the reality of our present day.

Instant Gratification?

Above all, trust in the slow work of God
We are quite naturally impatient in everything

to reach the end without delay.

We would like to skip the intermediate stages.

We are impatient of being

on the way to something unknown,

something new.

And yet it is the law of all progress

that it is made by passing through

some stages of instability-

and that may take a very long time

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

I have been rather overwhelmed by all the responses to yesterday’s post on my blog (the second in the Advent series). Thank you to all who responded in one way or another. And thanks to Maggie for offering the quote from Teilhard (above). Very apt.

In the light of comments and responses I have decided to continue the theme and look a bit more at patience, which is one of the ‘fruit of the Spirit’ described by Paul in his letter to the Galatians. But in contemporary society we seem to be more focussed on instant gratification than on patience and perseverance. Indeed, in spite of patience being traditionally regarded as a holy virtue, amongst people of faith, there can seem to be a lack of patience and a demand that God acts now. However, I do not mean to be over critical, for in the midst of all the ‘stuff’ that has been and is going on for me/us at the moment I/we too have been very aware of the frustration of waiting and of (apparently) unanswered prayer and (as yet) unfulfilled promises. I can recognise too that the darker it is the brighter shine these little lights of hope that we have from time to time experienced. And in spite of the frustration that I have to honestly own up to, I also find that in the long waiting for an answer to prayer, a sign of direction or a clear revelation of God’s presence, there is (when I choose to pause and be silent and open) a sense of peace and presence.

And just maybe I am learning to be a little more patient.

As I have already suggested, waiting is not something we are used to in contemporary society where instant gratification, instant answers, instant access to information, instant entertainment are constantly and continually available to us.

If you pick something up from the supermarket for supper on your way home and pop it in the microwave, in the time it takes you to take off your coat, put on your slippers, set out the cutlery and open the wine, ‘PING’ it is ready. Then you can reach for your remote control, switch on the TV which instantly comes alive and choose a film from Netflix... all in a moment or two. It was not always like that!

Today almost everything seems instant and waiting is less a part of our daily lives than was once the case.

But not quite...

Expectant parents still wait 9 months for the birth of a child... just the same length of time as parents two hundred years ago... or two thousand years ago had to wait.

And whatever the perceptions as we get older, nonetheless the years do not actually pass any more quickly than they did before.

And we have to wait for the results of medical tests or exam results, for health to recover or for wounds to heal, for planted seeds to grow and relationships to develop.

There are many things for which we still have to wait... things for which it is worth waiting.

And it is worth waiting for Christmas. It is worth allowing this season of Advent to be what it is without having Christmas prematurely invade it. It is worth spending this time in anticipation and hope.

For in this waiting time of Advent we have a journey to undertake. As I said in an earlier post, on this journey of waiting we reflect upon the dark realities of our world, we ponder the as yet unfulfilled ancient promises of God’s Kingdom, we look and long and listen for the signs of the coming of this kingdom.

We wait for God’s purposes to prevail and for God’s promises to be fulfilled.

We wait for prayers to be answered and our longings satisfied.

We wait for justice in the earth and for peace between peoples.

We wait for the signs of dawn breaking, for the light of the Day of our redemption to penetrate the darkness.

In the waiting there can be anxiety and anguish, frustration and fear.

As I reflect upon the difficult experiences that have been faced by me and my family over recent months, I am constantly battling with all of this. Why have we had to wait to see a resolution to our difficulties?

Why are we not seeing the answers to prayer for which we long?

Why can we not find the guidance and assurance for which we have asked, and still ask, and go on asking?

I will confess (as I did in response to one friend who commented on yesterday’s post) that alongside all the other things (or because of?) I have been experiencing quite a deep crisis of faith... and yet I still have hope. No, I can’t explain that either. I am simply telling it as it is for me right now.

We wait and go on waiting for the promises to be fulfilled and God’s purpose to prevail... we wait in the midst of much that is distorted and dark in our world and in our lives... we wait knowing that in the waiting times, while there may be healing and growing, there can remain also anguish and pain. But we wait and we wait on... and even if faith is not always strong we can still (paradoxically?) wait with hope.

Advent is all about waiting.

Waiting with hope.

Not a distorted optimism, not superficial determination to always look on the bright side of life, not pretending that everything is alright… for everything (for me at least just now, and in the world around as I see it) is far from all right!

But we wait in hope that God’s purposes will finally prevail and God’s promise will finally be fulfilled.

Prayer, patience and perseverance.

Above all, trust in the slow work of God

Taking the waiting out of wanting?

Wait for the Lord,

his day is near

Wait for the Lord,

be strong take heart

(Taizé)

Those who are old enough will remember when credit cards were just being introduced. You may also recall a TV advert for one of these cards which promised to ‘take the waiting out of wanting’.

That concept always made me feel uncomfortable.

Is there not a place for longing? for patience? for perseverance? (not to mention saving up!)

In the past I have been accused of being a ‘liturgical fundamentalist’ due to my preference to observe Advent as Advent and not simply as ‘Christmas before Christmas’ as seems to be increasingly what happens. Christmas trees appear in November and carols get sung throughout December, and so on.

But it is not simply a desire to adhere to liturgical correctness that leads me to prefer to reflect on Advent themes and sing Advent hymns during this season while waiting until Christmas itself to celebrate the birth of Jesus and sing the Christmas hymns (and continue to do so for the following 12 days of Christmas!).

As I suggested in my post yesterday, it is also to do with my wanting to spend these four weeks nurturing hope, looking for the dawning of light, anticipating the coming celebrations, but also pondering the important themes of patience, preparation and perseverance. This is (for me) a time to ask the pressing questions we all have regarding suffering, death and darkness; why prayers seem to go unanswered; why sometimes God seems absent or silent; why miracles seem few and far between. And it is a time to watch and wait, and to learn the value of waiting.

Of course, in reality we all have to wait. Christmas will not come any more quickly or early just because we are impatient for its arrival! As we read again the Gospel narratives over these weeks, we will be reminded of how God’s people had to wait for generation after generation for Messiah to come. ‘he has shown the mercy promised to our ancestors’ (Luke 1: 72).

As we sing the hymns looking forward to the coming of the Christ in glory, we will be aware that we are reflecting on promises made two thousand years ago... and still we wait!

But waiting time is not wasted time. We are shaped, changed, tested in our waiting... in our waiting and watching.

In the course of these recent months, I have prayed much and asked for much... and (in specific terms at least) I am still waiting for an answer. I have longed for miracles, but experienced none. I have sought clarity with regard to decisions and the way forward, and am still listening for a word from the Lord.

It has been frustrating, difficult and sometimes dispiriting.

But the waiting time has not been wasted time.

I believe that – with God – waiting time need never be wasted time.

Wait for the Lord,

his day is near

Wait for the Lord,

be strong take heart

(Taizé)

O Come, O Come Emmanuel

O come, Thou Dayspring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight

It has been a while since I last posted on my blog. This has not been an easy year – not by a long shot. Both Jane and I have vowed never again to casually apply the description ‘nightmare’ to any lesser times. These last few months have felt like a very horrific nightmare... a time of very deep darkness. There have been many reasons for this including health, family crises and a series of bereavements (some untimely and unexpected). I may allude to some of these in coming posts, but I will not go into detail here.

But the coming season of Incarnation speaks of the Light shining in the darkness, and this time of Advent, in particular, addresses human darkness but also speaks of hope.

And so, I have decided that the dawning of the (liturgical) New Year is a good time to re-engage with my blog. Indeed, during this season of Advent, I plan to post every day if I can.

Now, if you know me at all, or have read some of my previous blog posts, are a Facebook friend or have heard me preach at this time of year, then you will know how much I value the season of Advent.

There are many reasons for this, and to be honest, I suspect that part of it is simply linked to my personality. I am the type of person who gets a great deal of pleasure out of anticipation (and remembrance for that matter); sometimes even more than from the actual thing that is being anticipated (or remembered)!

But as I have also often said, there are theological reasons for my appreciation of Advent. Amongst the many is the fact that the scripture readings set by the Lectionary or traditionally associated with this season and, indeed, the very theme of the season, makes us face up to the fact (and the mystery... even perhaps the frustration!) that we live in the ‘in between’ time in between the First Advent (the Birth of Jesus) and the Second Advent (his Coming again, and please note that I am neither pressing nor suggesting only one possible interpretation of this awaited event!)

I tend towards the view (it is called ‘inaugurated eschatology’ if you are interested!) that there are both ‘already’ and ‘not yet’ aspects to the Kingdom of God. In other words, that in the birth, life, death and resurrection of Jesus the coming and promised Kingdom of God was ‘inaugurated’ and, indeed, continues to break into the here and now through the presence and activity of the Holy Spirit (so I suppose you might call my view ‘Pentecostal eschatology’??) but yet there remains an ‘age to come’ in which the Kingdom of God will be fully established.

For me, this understanding makes sense both of Scripture and of human experience; the fact that, in so many ways, we can see and know God’s action and presence in the here and now, and yet, there are other experienced realities too, including the apparent absence or silence of God; prayers are answered, but not all; we can see God work in marvellous ways, but only sometimes; and so on...

Advent offers us the opportunity for reflection on all of this.

And perhaps in this year I have had more reason to reflect on all of this than in many a year. As I say, it has been (and continues to be) a very dark time. And yet, hope remains. That hope may not always shine brightly, but even if it is but a flickering light, it is still there.

This morning as we attended worship for Advent Sunday I found myself in the very unusual position of sitting in a back pew rather than conducting worship from the chancel as would normally be the case on Advent Sunday. From that distance the first of the candles in the Advent wreath which was lit this morning looked very small, insignificant and vulnerable. Perhaps that is what hope is like. Fragile, tiny yet capable of piercing the darkness.

The Dayspring will yet come to dispel the gloomy clouds of night, and put death’s dark shadows to flight.

‘O come, O come, Emmanuel’!

Living and working with an untidy desk

It is often suggested that we work better in a tidy environment and – specifically – if our desk is tidy. Some companies and organisations operate a ‘clean desk policy’, partly for the purposes of ensuring compliance with data protection protocols, but also in the belief that it encourages better work practices and enhances productivity etc.

I believe that this is almost certainly correct.

I think I am much more focussed and work more effectively when my study is tidy and my desk is clutter free. There are fewer distractions, I know where things are (because they are in their correct place) and so I do not waste time and energy hunting for that one bit of paper with vital information on it, or wondering where I put that book I need to consult. They have all been put into their rightful place or filed appropriately and can therefore be easily accessed when required.

Excellent!

Except I cannot do it. I will tidy my desk, arrange my study, complete my filing, and put books back on their shelves. It lasts for a day and then it all begins to go awry.

Right at the moment my desk is not as bad as it has sometimes been, but it is a large desk and (apart from my laptop, a small shelf of commonly accessed books, and the usual phone, penholders and such like) has three piles of papers under paperweights, a coffee cup (empty) , my wallet and mobile phone, a couple of things that need to be put away, a not quite finished jigsaw and a pile of books I am reading or need to read. Actually, up until a few moments ago there was a second pile of books which I was about to consult in preparation for the services tomorrow... but that pile got accidently knocked off my desk, breaking my printer’s paper tray in the process...

I am full of good intentions. I can tidy everything up. I know where everything belongs. But it does not last. Why can I not maintain the tidy study and clear desk that I want to have?

But what is somewhat more alarming is that I have come to realise that my desk is a kind of metaphor for my life. I struggle to maintain order and things get very messy all too quickly.

So here’s the dilemma... do I keep trying to get – and keep- everything in order or do I learn to accept that I live with a messy desk... and – indeed – a messy life?

Life in the Echo Chamber

Much has been written and said about the negative effects of social media on our opinions and attitudes. As many have pointed out, these communication means can act as a kind of echo chamber in which we find our own views (and often our preconceptions and prejudices) reinforced and amplified until we can become convinced that we must be right and that everyone agrees or, if they don’t, then they are wrong as we think we – and those who share our views – are correct.

And then when opinion either collides with facts or is combined with facts, we can find so-called ‘fake news’ going viral or ‘real news’ being condemned as ‘fake news’.

To those of us (and I am one!) who values – perhaps over-values – ‘objective truth’ this is a disturbing and confusing world.

I was struck by something said to me the other day by a relative when we were discussing political and social views and the different perspectives people had on certain issues. He said that when he found himself instinctively espousing a strong opinion on matters political or social he deliberately set out to inwardly challenge his own views. He would seek out comment and opinion in newspapers which tended to hold a position very different from his own so he could check and test his views and opinions.

I doubt that many of us approach things with this kind of rigour! I wonder if it is ultimately effective in countering the ‘echo chamber’ effect. Is it? One would hope so!

But living in the ‘echo chamber’ is not only a problem in social media or with political or social positions. It is a problem in the church. We join groups, form factions, align ourselves with theological ‘tribes’ and read books where too often our views (and prejudices) are bolstered and reinforced rather than challenged. This is no less ‘life in the echo chamber’!

And those who put their heads above the parapet to question some cherished view, belief or attitude of the tribe can end up being fiercely attacked.

In the public sphere this has been seen more on one ‘wing’ of the church (see, for example, reactions to Tony Campolo or Steve Chalke or Vicky Beeching or Bishop Paul Bayes etc). However, the disapproval of one of our ‘tribe’ who questions the received views or orthodoxies of our group is not confined to one wing.

While in recent years I have had conversations in private with a number of self-identified evangelicals who have serious doubts regarding the predominant conservative views on (for example) the atonement or sexuality, I have also had conversations with many who would certainly not identify as ‘conservative’ but find themselves facing criticism or confusion when, in spite of their more ‘progressive’ views on certain matters they affirm orthodox, biblical and creedal Christianity with regards to those matters that are generally regarded as most central to historic Christian belief. In some cases they find that their 'liberal' or 'progressive' friends mock their orthodoxy!

We really need to provide, seek out, even demand conversations (not ‘debates’ in assemblies or synods!)  that allow us to openly and safely explore our various views and shades of opinion. We need to speak to and share with one another gently, humbly, and with provisionality and openness.

We need to get out of our echo chambers.

Broken

It seems to me that there is a lot that is broken at the moment.

Our world seems very broken, in terms of the environmental challenges and changes we are witnessing, the endless terror and violence, the asylum seekers and refugees, the hunger and homelessness, our messed up politics, our strained international and intra-national relations and so on and on.

These are worrying times.

And not just the world; the church seems to me to be very broken. There have always been fault lines between denominations and within denominations, but now these fault lines seem to be lying in different places than before; they cut across the traditional denominational distinctions and increasingly seem also to be deviating from the theological tensions which once seemed to be a major cause of division.

It is very natural that when things are broken we want to fix them. But sometimes our attempts to ‘fix’ things ends up worse than what we consider to be broken. (I invite you to think of examples in contemporary international affairs, politics and church matters!)

Of course, part of the problem is that humans are all broken too. Traditionally Christians have agreed on that and called it ‘sin’ (or ‘original sin’). The whole of the world is broken (‘fallen’ to use traditional language).

Now it is not my intention to get into a sterile theological discussion over terms and concepts related to ‘sin’, ‘The Fall’, ‘original sin’, ‘redemption’ and so on. Personally I can affirm the significance of all of these concepts without any difficulty and – for that matter – without resorting to fundamentalism to describe my thinking on these matters.

Nor do I want any of that to stand in opposition to an affirmation of ‘original blessing’ and the essential goodness and beauty of humanity and human beings. I very much believe that we are made in the image of God, although we far from perfectly reflect that image.

I could go on to discuss what I think redemption and salvation mean. But I am not going to do that.

I want to be a little more personal.

I am simply going to say that I have once again become acutely aware of how broken I am, in so many ways.

I am grateful that my health is nothing like as bad as it has sometimes been, but neither is it great at the moment. I am going through a bit of a rough patch in terms of my MS, with energy reserves very low and one or two slightly worrying wee physical symptoms.

And I am going through a spiritually tough patch too, inasmuch as it feels like I have been in a dry desert for a long, long time.

And (perhaps because of the above, at least to some extent) I also feel very flawed and inadequate in so many areas of my life...too many to mention. (now, don’t get me wrong... I am not in any ‘slough of despond’ nor am I denying the good things I may have achieved...). So, don’t panic and don’t rush round to comfort me. It is not a crisis! (And if it ever happens that a crisis comes then I will seek out help and support if required).

My thought is simply that I (we?) seem to always want to fix things when they seem broken... especially if I feel I have broken them!

But I do not think I can ‘fix’ many of the things that feel broken for me at the moment.

And so, once more, I am pushed back onto the grace of God... grace alone.

And perhaps that is no bad thing.