Comings and Goings

Janus, from whom January gets its name, was the Roman god of comings and goings.  He had two faces, one that looked forward and the other back, and often his image would be found at a doorway.   It’s fitting at the turning of the year to look both ways, reflecting upon what has gone before and looking ahead to what is to come.

Didn’t we have a long lingering autumn?  I believe those beautiful leaf colours are due to the timing of wet and dry periods during the course of the year.  But the gales of the last week or two have finally removed the last of them, and all we see now is the bare branches.  As you look at those tree skeletons, share some reflections with me.

Those branches are the framework of the tree.   When the new leaves grow next spring, we shall see once more the trees with which we are familiar.  Their shape will be the same as it was in last summer’s photos, obscuring the same bits of the street scene, just as ever was.  It will look the same, fulfil exactly the same function, even though every one of those leaves will be new.

Isn’t life like that?  Our pattern of life next year will closely resemble that of last year, with the same family, friends, neighbours and work colleagues.  We’ll go to the same clubs and society meetings, enjoy the same hobbies and interests; life will carry on in the same general shape as always.

The New Year will have brought some changes, though, just as a close examination of those trees outside will reveal the growth of new twigs and the loss of the odd branch here and there.  People move in and out of the area, take up new challenges and adjust their activities accordingly.  Someone at work may have retired and have been replaced; perhaps a dear friend has died and is sadly missed.

There will be changes within us, too.  We will, inevitably, have a different outlook on 2014 from that which we had on 2013.  Our attitudes will still be based on our individual history and our reflections upon it, but they will have been adapted by the experiences of the last year, as these have become integrated into our personality.  Changes in our lives might be caused by, but can also make us more able to deal with, changes in the world around us.

Some churches have special services for the New Year, encouraging their members to invite God afresh into their lives and helping them to commit themselves anew in His service.  If you have been touched in a new way during the recent Christmas season, let me encourage you to pray these words as you enter a new year in a new relationship with God.  They come from the Covenant Prayer of the Methodist Church.

Let me be full,

Let me be empty,
Let me have all things,
Let me have nothing:
I freely and wholeheartedly yield all things to your pleasure and disposal,
Glorious and blessed God,
Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

... Whirr when it Stands Still

“Christmas is for children.”  

We’ve heard it so many times, haven't we?  Often it’s really an excuse.  When we allege that this is a season which is only relevant to children, we are attempting to explain why we, as adults, no longer take part in the festive celebrations.  You can hear it in your ears as you read these lines, can't you? "Oh, they're just children's games." "It's all right for the children, but ..."

I think the real reason for this reticence is likely to be that, having passed out of our own childhood (so long ago that we can no longer remember what it was really like!) we’ve lost any sense of mystery. For The story of Christmas is all about mystery.  Who can truly explain what it was like to have been in that stable, or on that hillside, and to discover that there is something very special, something unique, about this tiny new-born baby?

It's bad enough two milennia later trying to get our minds around it, but to have been there, to explain what actually happened - 'mystery' is the only word for it.  And the trouble is, the more we hear it, the more we try to fathom it out, the more familiar the story becomes, the less we really understand, because we've lost with our childhood the capacity to appreciate mystery.  In a way, it’s like reading the end of a detective novel.  It can only be a mystery once; as soon as we've read it, the key to the puzzle is known; the spell is broken.

Among the songs made popular a few years ago by the Irish singer Val Doonican, was a ditty about a Marvellous Toy.  It told of a toy that had been passed down from grandfather to father and from father to son.  This toy made a number of different noises, which were added to the refrain by the singer according to his ability: “It goes [ring] when it starts, and [click] when it stops, and [whirr] when it stands still; I never knew just what it was, and I guess I never will.”  The mystery of Christmas is a bit like that.  We can’t define precisely what it is, but perhaps the wide-open eyes of a child, seeing a new toy for the first time, is a good example of that same emotion.

In the oh-so-busy, 24/7 lifestyle of the twenty-first century, when our senses can embrace so much and treat it as commonplace, it is increasingly difficult to get our heads round the idea of something as unknown and awesome as the experience of the shepherds on the hillside that Luke tells us about.  How can we imagine the wonder, taste the mystery, and feel the tingle of excitement they must have felt as the angels told them that the full glory of God was on the point of becoming reality in their humble world?

A verse which doesn’t often feature in our Christmas readings is Mark 10:15: “anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.”  I believe it has a particular relevance in our present age, when childhood is so quickly extinguished and ‘teenage’ begins ever earlier.  Let us allow ourselves, if only at this one time of the year, to be taught by our children.  Let them show us, as only children can, something of the simple joy and wonder of Christmas.  Let our busy lives stand still for a moment, so that we can feel the ‘whirr’ of God’s tremendous love in our hearts.

May all my readers know the joy of a truly blessed Christmas.

The Dream Remedy

Along with much rubbish, it must be said, I find a lot of wisdom comes to me in dreams.  Now I've winnowed the wheat from the chaff, I feel this one is worthy of a wider audience.  The background was an upcoming school parents' meeting.  One of the teachers had handed me a draft of the speech he was preparing for this occasion, and invited my comments.  I told him, "It's too academic.  It's written by an academic, for other academics.  What parents need is reality.  Tell them how it relates to them, what it means to them, how it has changed your own life."

I've no idea what the subject was, and for this purpose it doesn't matter.  The kernel of wisdom that came from my dream was what followed - the need for a speech on any topic to be related to the real-life situation of its hearers.  It's a lesson that many politicians could profit by learning.  And while you might agree with that - or not - it's a lesson from which we could all benefit in our conversations.

Relating to real life is how Jesus spoke, too.  I'm going to finish this brief note by setting my readers some 'holiday homework' (sorry to pursue the school theme!)  With the festive season approaching, it's not beyond the bounds of possibility that you might at some point feel overcome with all that's going on around you, and need a little relief.

Let me suggest that you find a quiet corner, behind a curtain, or with an overcoat in the garden shed.  Take a Bible with you, and read through any of the four Gospels, from start to finish, like a novel.  Let the Evangelist's narrative flow over you, and soak up the story of Jesus' earthly life and ministry.  For a short while let Him take over your mind and enter your innermost being.  Emerge refreshed, and ready to re-join the party.

And if your friends should notice your refreshment, let your conversation relate to their real-life situation.  Tell them your secret - they might enjoy the remedy too!

The Numbers Game

In common with many models, if not all, my mobile phone has in its display an indicator that shows how ‘full’ the battery is.  I feel uneasy if this falls below 50% and each evening, when I return from work (or nearer bedtime, if I’ve forgotten), I plug it in to recharge.  In addition to the numerical display, mine also has a light that shines yellow while the phone is charging.  This changes to green when the charge level reaches 90%, so if I’m in a hurry I know that I can unplug it and go, confident that I shan’t be out of contact.

It’s strange how the difference between 90% and 100% seems far less than that between 10% and zero, while, arithmetically, they are the same.  I remember, many years ago, how I agonised over that brave step to begin tithing.  On the one hand, my conscience was telling me it was the right thing to do, that this was a Biblical precedent that I should follow, and so on; on the other, I felt that my income was so low that I would never manage if I were to give away a whole tenth of it.

One day, however, I looked one last time at a verse that had long been part of my dilemma, “Bring the entire tithe into the storehouse so that there may be food in my temple.  Test me in this matter,” says the Lord who rules over all, “to see if I will not open for you the windows of heaven and pour out for you a blessing until there is no room for it all.” (Malachi 3:10), and took the plunge.  As I look back now, over good times and bad, I realise that the effect - and indeed the effort! - of managing on 90% was quite small, and I just can’t think of anything that actually suffered.  I certainly never went hungry!  Today, with the financial constraints of a economic crisis, many people are having such a reduction of income – and far worse – forced upon them, and some have suffered so greatly that they do go hungry, if only so that their children can eat.  It’s not to them that this article is addressed, but to others.

One way in which these folks, and people in far worse conditions in the third world, can be helped is through Christian charity.  There are about 163,000 registered charities in this country, and many more that aren’t registered.  Some are Christian, some are not; most are genuine in their desire to help other people in one way or another; some are not – caveat donor!  At this time of year generosity is at its height, wearing a red coat with white fur trimmings.  It’s also the time of year when Resolutions are made.  May I suggest that, if you aren’t already tithing your income, it might be a good time to start, with some of that 10% going to the church, and the rest to a selection of worthy charities.

Believe me, it is possible to live – and to live well – on only 90%.  To someone else, that might be the difference between 10% and zero!

Wood ... or just Trees?

A few years ago I visited a tiny cottage in rural Lincolnshire that had been preserved as nearly as possible in the same state as it's last occupant had left it when she'd died in the 1970s or ’80s.  In a chest in the bedroom, I spotted a small item that I recognised.  The curator observed, 'I don't expect you know what that is,' and was quite surprised when I told him, 'It's a promise box!'  

For the benefit of the many of whom he thought I was one, let me explain that this little box was about five inches by four, and not more than two inches high.  It was made of either stiff card or thin wood, and was covered by paper bearing a tiny floral pattern reminiscent of the wallpaper of the early 20th century.  The slightly tapered lid could be removed to reveal lots of little scrolls; each one bore a verse of scripture that announced one of God’s many promises to mankind.  They were a source of reassurance of our Lord’s presence and provision, particularly in times of sorrow or hardship.  These boxes can still be obtained in many different forms, but their heyday was about 100 years ago; often they would be a parting gift for a sweetheart left behind when her young man went off to war.

In that context, the young man's thoughts would be focused on the girl's fidelity, and the box might be a tangible reminder of him.  It might inspire her to trust that he would return.  Trust is, too, a feature in our own twenty-first century lives.  We hear much these days about recycling, a topic that quickly broadens out to include abandoning the use of fossil fuels, organic farming, and everything that is ‘green’.  God has provided all that this world needs for the good of man – if only we could trust Him for that, and follow His guidance in organising its proper use.  To that end, one of the aims of conservation or recycling is to ensure that the provided resources are available to people who would otherwise be without.

Another parallel with the simple idea of the promise box is the fact that much of the world’s news is of an alarming nature, and it is easy to worry about our own safety.  I read some while ago that “worry is like a rocking chair: it gives you something to do, but gets you nowhere”.  I'm inclined to think that, whether we are fearful for safety or resources, it’s all a matter of perception, like the illustration of the glass that is either half full or half empty.  We need to be reassured that we can trust in God for the blessings that He has promised.

Let me finish with yet another illustration.  Those promise boxes were but one example of the versatility of wood.  Look around: do you see the wood, with its great potential … or simply trees?

Pushing the Envelope

In what is termed by some a post-Christian world, we are confronted on every side by pride, hypocrisy, and a lack of concern about anything hinting at God.  We see around us all kinds of publicly-accepted sin and idolatry, exhibited by people who have no idea that that’s what it is.  In the face of this, it’s easy for us to become tongue-tied; to feel we cannot respond, and to believe it impossible to turn the tide and bring God back into our world.

We are in great need of rescue from the destructive effects of these fears.  A number of Bible passages that have come my way recently have some bearing on this thorny problem.  If pushed to provide a simple summary of their message I think I would say, “Try to see the big picture.” One by one, they are these. 

Isaiah’s prophecies brought comfort to those enduring exile in Babylon; but his message wasn’t just for the exiles, or indeed just for all of the Israelites, but for the whole world.  “It is too light a thing that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to bring back the preserved of Israel; I will make you as a light for the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.” (Is. 49:6-7).   Simeon recognised this promise as being fulfilled in Jesus (Luke 2:30-32).

Zechariah was part of the first wave of Israelites to return to Jerusalem after the exile.  Their aim was to rebuild the city.  In one of his visions Zechariah saw a man with a plumb-line about to measure the city in order to assess the materials required to rebuild the walls.  But an angel delivered a message from God for the man, that Jerusalem would be a city without walls.  God said that He would be the fire wall, as well as the glory within the city; there would be no need for walls (Zech. 2:1-5).  In succeeding chapters the scene becomes far broader; God speaks of bringing people in from across the world (8:6-8), and suddenly there are things far more important than merely the walls of one city.

By the time of Jesus, the Jews were once more hidebound by tradition, rules and religious habits.  The Pharisees were outraged at one of His healing miracles.  This woman had suffered for eighteen years, ran their logic; why was there any need for her to be healed just then, on the Sabbath?    Jesus’ concern overruled any man-made rules.  He simply saw her need, and reacted in love (Luke 13:10-17).

And finally, I offer you Romans 12:17-19, where Paul encourages us not to be petty in our thinking.  Rather than reacting in our limited strength to something that offends us, we are encouraged to be at peace, and leave it to God to take appropriate action.

When we are confronted by the world’s standards, and wonder how to react, we have a clear instruction in the final verse of that chapter, “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good” (12:21).  We can also find encouragement in Jesus’ own words, “take heart - I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).

Great Expectations

Perry Stephens is a great young violinist.  In fact, he’s hopeful of a place in the National Children’s Orchestra.  But it wasn’t always so.  He practised faithfully, and had obvious talent but, despite his abilities, he showed no great enthusiasm for his weekly lessons, which took place during the school lunch hour, with a visiting teacher.  When the first term’s report arrived, his father read “Perry’s attention to this subject bears no relation to what I am convinced he can do – if only he would apply himself.”  He knew the time had come to step in.

Faced with the report, Perry said quite simply, “Yes, I like playing, but I’ve got such a useless teacher.”  Knowing the teacher’s excellent reputation, his father was surprised by this comment, and asked for more detail.  “It’s true,” said Perry, “even the other teachers think so.  They say ‘here’s Perry’s pathetic music teacher.’”  Light dawned and, suppressing a smile, his father took Perry aside with a large dictionary.  Once Perry understood that ‘peripatetic’ was a state of employment, and had nothing to do with the teacher’s ability, there was no holding him back.

How often do we make the mistake of setting our sights too low?  How often do we aim for a target far lower than we’re capable of?  The same short-sightedness can be observed in our prayers.  We often assume that our loving Heavenly Father is unwilling to grant what we want, because of our sinfulness.  We fail to take account of our Salvation, won by Jesus on the Cross.  That is an affront to the love that God has for us, but even worse, we insult His power when we under-estimate what He is able to give us.  These are mistakes that can be based on the strength of the most flimsy and unreliable evidence.  Remember that Jesus said, “Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you.  For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.” (Matt. 7:7-8).

Perry was fine once he had confidence in his teacher.  We’ll be fine too, if we can only find the confidence in God's love.  Once we do, we can be totally open and honest in our prayers.  We can tell our Lord absolutely everything: our hopes, our fears, our most intimate and secret desires.  And we can be certain that our confidences are secure, and that our prayers will be answered.

More about Words

Realising what a waste it is that many of the books on my shelves have never been read, I’ve started reading a few pages at breakfast time.  The other day I found a paragraph that followed on neatly from something I wrote recently about care in our use of words.  ‘Medieval Gentlewoman’ by ffiona Swabey is based on the life of a Suffolk heiress, Alice de Bryene (c.1360-1435), and this particular passage runs as follows:

“The gossip was an important figure in the later Middle Ages, from the word godsib (sibling) or godparent, denoting the spiritual affinity of the baptised and their sponsors.  More significantly a gossip was a woman who attended a close friend when she was in labour and often assisted at the birth.  Such women were part of the informal domestic webs of information and power, passing on their wisdom and experience with little respect for hierarchy, though at the same time they adhered to traditional and conservative concepts and their opinions must often have been prejudiced.  Many of their ‘old wives’ tales’ consisted of practical advice on sex, rearing animals, horticulture, cures and the interpretation of dreams and omens.  Predictably, ‘women’s tongues’ were usually conceived as being divisive, the ready butt of medieval misogyny, though it was not until the mid-sixteenth century that the gossip became a pejorative figure.”

Considering this development in the meaning and use of the word, I wasn’t surprised to find that my on-line Bible offers no mention of ‘gossip’ in the King James translation.  Its modern equivalent, however, lists eight occurrences.  Four of these are from Proverbs, notably ​​​​​​ “The words of a gossip are like choice morsels; they go down into the person’s innermost being.” (Prov. 18:8), and there is only one from the New Testament, where St Paul gives voice to his misgivings about the infant church in Corinth maintaining their standards of behaviour in his absence (2Cor. 12:20).  The King James version uses ‘whisperings’ for ‘gossip’ here, and for its purveyor in Proverbs, ‘talebearer’.

Both of these help us to distinguish between the virtuous ‘godsib’ of centuries past and the less worthy practices to which the word was later applied.  Those of us who have reached mature years may remember being told as children that ‘all whispers tell lies,’ or having the spreading of malicious falsehoods about our playmates being described as ‘telling tales’.  We don’t have to dig very deeply to find a Biblical source for many of the wise sayings of the older generation.

So what might these observations tell us today?  Firstly, I suggest, we should view changes in church and society in a balanced way, accepting with approval the benefits they bring, while not forgetting the good aspects of what has been replaced.  Secondly, when condemning tittle-tattle from the standpoint of virtue, we should also remember, and spare a thought of thanks and praise for siblings and friends – our own and those of others around us – as sources of comfort, encouragement and hope.

Ducks

“Two ducks in front of a duck,” said my father, “two ducks behind a duck, and a duck in the middle.  How many ducks?”  That little conundrum from nearly fifty years ago is as puzzling now as it was then.  The answer is, of course, three: but in order to fit, the ducks have to be swimming in a straight line.  To quote a favourite phrase of one of my former bosses, “all the ducks have to be in a row”.

It was to have been a farewell meal.  My friend had been planning to move to another part of the country, but now she explained that her plans had rather fallen apart.  She had a new job lined up, but suddenly her new employer wanted her to start in two weeks time instead of a month, in other words before she could make all the arrangements to move house.  Initially, she had difficulty finding a tenant for her flat, and then, when a likely occupant did arrive on her doorstep, he insisted on being able to move in within a week, which wouldn’t give her solicitor time to draw up a contract, let alone allow her to find and secure a new home some distance away.

In effect, my friend faced the daunting prospect of withdrawing from her new job, staying put for the time being, and starting the whole process again from scratch.  It was probably not over-helpful for me to recite to her, “You didn’t have all your ducks in a row.”  “My ducks,” she replied ruefully, “seem to be swimming all over the place!”

Life seems to be like that for some of us, doesn’t it?  I call it the 'polythene bag syndrome': you flatten one corner, only to discover that the air has formed an annoying bubble somewhere else.  No sooner do we get one bit of life sorted out, than something else goes wrong, or urgently distracts us from what we feel we ought to be doing.  There never seems to be a point where we can say that all is as it should be, and life can be lived ‘properly’.  What’s wrong, then?  Is life not meant to run smoothly? – or do we simply try to cram more into it than it is designed to accommodate?  I suspect that we see someone else’s achievement and think we can do the same, without appreciating the sacrifices he or she has had to make to get there; the problems that are being dealt with behind the scenes.  We think we can have the same success, and combine it with all of our existing interests, not realising that these other things don’t clutter the life of our idol.

Perhaps it would help if we were to focus on the most important things, and let everything else just fall into place.  The writer to Hebrews advised ‘fix your thoughts on Jesus’ (Heb. 3:1); and in the Gospel we find Jesus himself teaching us to seek first the Kingdom of God (Matt. 6:33), and everything else would be given to us.  Or, as the Ned Miller song of the 1960’s almost put it, “Give [God] your love and all of your life, and do what you do do well.”

The Power of Words

 ‘The pen is mightier than the sword.’

attrib. Edward Bulwer-Lytton, 1803-1873

The words that a pen writes or that a mouth speaks are indeed powerful, but they are a gift from God.  As with all gifts, they bring with them responsibility in their use: St James, for example, charges us to be careful what we say (Jas. 3:1-6).  We should choose our words wisely, lest we cause offence or do unintended damage.

In the ‘Sermon on the Mount’ Jesus develops the thinking behind the Ten Commandments, and at Matt. 5:34-37 we find a comment about ‘You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain (Ex. 20:7)’.  Jesus warns us against making extravagant undertakings and sealing them by invoking God’s name.  If we do so, we have to keep those promises – if they prove to be things we can’t manage, the result is that we are guilty of sin.  It’s far safer, Jesus advises, not to make oaths at all, but simply say ‘yes’ or ‘no’.

Sometimes we say things because we’ve always done so, without appreciating exactly what they mean.  The origin of an expression can be lost behind the frequency and thoughtlessness of its use.  How often, I wonder, does an atheist take leave of someone by saying ‘goodbye’?  Does he really hope that God (in whom he doesn’t believe) will be with his friend? 

The meaning of words can change over the course of time, too.  Few churches nowadays use the sixteenth century phrases of the Apostles’ Creed, and express belief in a God who will come to judge the ‘quick and the dead’.  To us, ‘quick’ means swift in motion, fleet of foot, or perhaps capable of prompt reactions.  When it was first translated into English, ‘quick’ was simply the opposite to ‘dead’, and many people now prefer to replace it in this context by ‘living’.  I must mention too the dramatic increase in ‘issues’ these days.  Far from being confined to something that comes out, like blood or a magazine, today’s ‘issues’ seem to have extinguished ‘matters’, ‘topics’, ‘factors’, ‘contentions’, ‘difficulties ‘and, most of all, ‘problems’.  Have people just become too lazy to be specific about what it is they’re discussing?

I was at a Christian gathering earlier this year where someone told a story of conversion to faith, saying, ‘... and then he got saved.’  It grated at the time, and after a little thought I realised why.  It was the same form of words that would be used of a shopping expedition: ‘he got cereal and then he got butter and milk.’  The implication was that the man had done this himself, in his own power; to any non-believer present it would have suggested that this was actually something that a man could achieve for himself.  A better expression would have been ‘he was saved,’ correctly allowing credit elsewhere for the fact of his salvation. 

As the football season begins, I recall an apocryphal graffito that adorned a ‘Jesus Saves’ sign: ‘... but Satan nets the rebound!’  We must always be aware of the rebounds, those times where the Evil One is only too ready to take advantage of our mistakes.  So let’s resolve now to ‘engage brain before opening mouth’; remember that ‘CARELESS talk costs lives souls’

Not all Sea and Sunshine

Some years ago I worked for a short while for a Christian travel business.  It was an enjoyable time, and one thing I remember from the experience is the frequent use of what was said to be the only Biblical reference to holidays: “Because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, he said to them, ‘Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.’” (Mark 6:31, NIV).  Although it’s not in line with what most people these days would consider a holiday, this verse was commonly used when selling retreats at centres that offered a ‘contemplative experience’.

It confirms a need that each of us has from time to time to get away from the busy-ness of our lives, and to make time for refreshment.  We should re-align ourselves regularly with the natural world, listen afresh to God’s word and tune in again to His will in our lives.  Until recently, I had given this no further thought than that, but come with me now to St Mark’s gospel, and let’s re-visit this verse.

 

The disciples had been sent out two by two to preach repentance and to cast out demons (5:7-11).  The narrative is interrupted by the news of the death of John the Baptist, and then we hear of them coming back, filled with excitement, to report their experiences to Jesus.  No doubt there were achievements they wanted to share, but also problems they had encountered, uncertainties upon which they sought guidance.  But the crowds followed them all wherever they went, and it was difficult to get a word in edgeways, let alone some serious quiet time with their Lord.  So there was a definite need to get away by themselves.  It was only for a moment, though, because they were spotted leaving, chased around the lake, and the next thing we read is the familiar story of the feeding of the five thousand (6:35-44).

What does this tell us about holidays, then?  I suggest that the primary lesson is that their aim shouldn’t be to do nothing.  Secondly, there is a question in my mind about who holidays are for: the disciples saw Jesus teaching the crowds (as usual!) instead of spending time with them and, perhaps in frustration, wanted to send them away.  Jesus, however, calls them to a responsibility of care: ‘You give them something to eat’ (6:37).  Perhaps there is wisdom in the old saying ‘a change is as good as a rest’.  Maybe instead of thinking only of pleasing ourselves when we have a break from normal life, we should also consider ways in which we might enrich the life of other(s).  Who knows? – that might be even more enjoyable!

Love is ...

... more than a cartoon strip devised by Kim Casali and drawn by Bill Asprey.

But before I go any further, let me introduce a much-loved little girl, my friend Bethany.  She is just a few weeks short of her first birthday, and she already has a personality that makes her quite recognisable when seen apart from her mum or dad.  When I visited her mother a couple of months after her birth, her grandma was there to lend a hand, as grandmothers are often wont to do.  This was the only time that I had seen that lady, but a few weeks later I was chatting to the proud parents in church when a particular angle of Bethany’s head and her facial expression gave me an instant of recollection of her grandma’s features.  It was a ‘spitting image’ moment.

When was your last spitting image experience?  Or when did someone last observe that you were the very image of your parent?  The answer to these questions may depend on your own age and circumstances, but it’s commonly recognised that our inherited genes include a physical dimension.  That’s an idea that has Biblical precedent too.

Jesus claimed resemblance to his Heavenly Father.  “Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father,” He said (John 14:9); and one manifestation of this was the way He showed His Father’s love to those around him.  He healed people left, right and centre, raised some from death, and he wept with love along with Mary and the others over Lazarus’ death (John 11:33-36.)  This was how Jesus wanted his followers to behave, too.  In that remarkable illustration of the vine and its branches, He said, “Love each other, as I have loved you.  Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:12-13.)  And that was, literally, what Jesus did of course, as Paul reported and explained (Rom. 5:6-8.)

As well as his narration of these matters, John was also so impressed by Jesus’ love that he seems to have filled his pastoral letters with it.  In one example, he says that we should show that we’re Jesus’ followers by walking as He did (I John 2:6.)  In effect, he’s reminding us of Jesus’ very words, to pass on to others the love that we have received; and if you are uncertain just what that involves and need Paul’s blueprint, you’ll find it at Romans 12:9-21

So, let’s think back to those ‘spitting images.’  It’s not just the genes that are passed down from one generation to the next that cause them to resemble their parents and grandparents.  If you saw Bethany with her mum and dad, you would instantly realise what a loving and happy family they are.  They enjoy love in their lives, from each other and from their parents and friends; but also from the church where we all worship.  We are privileged to be part of a loving community where Jesus’ command to love one another is fulfilled widely and often.  How about you?  Is there someone to whom you should be showing God’s love – to whom you should appear the spitting image of your heavenly Father?

A Good Ending

So much in the news lately seems to fly in the face of our Christian beliefs; as I’ve pondered why this should be, and what might be done about it, I’ve been thinking a lot about three words: ‘back to basics.’  I believe it was Prime Minister John Major who brought currency to the term not all that long ago.  Among the ‘basics’ that have crossed my mind has been the basic premise upon which this series of articles was founded many years ago.  That premise was the idea that links can be observed, or without too much effort contrived, between aspects of our faith and everyday things or happenings, so that the one can be seen as a pointer to the other.  I realise that my articles have sometimes drifted away from that basic aim and, as it’s good once in a while for any of us to stand back, reflect and re-affirm what it is we’re doing, so now is as good a time as any for The Gospel Around Us to do the same.

One of the everyday ‘things’ that is basic and very important to each of us is our body, and I’d like to focus this article on ten little parts of it that are almost constantly visible and perhaps most frequently taken for granted – our fingernails.  Apart from being at one extreme a convenient surface for the application of coloured varnish, and at the other a fragile substitute for a screwdriver, what use are they?  They can be easily chipped or broken (especially if used as screwdrivers!) and are then, if not painful, at least most irritating.  If assaulted by a heavy article, e.g. a car door, then they are most definitely painful, and it takes months for the resulting unsightly black part to grow out.  Oh, and we shouldn’t forget that terrible grating sound that could be produced by scraping them on a blackboard!

Maybe these incidents are precise examples of one of the main functions of the fingernail – to protect the finger; and if you ask a comedian what they’re for, he might reply, ‘to stop your fingers fraying at the ends!’ – which, even if it seems a silly idea, is quite true.  So, what have fingernails to do with our faith?  Instead of looking at them in bewilderment, take a look at Hebrews 12:2: “Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith ... .”  It was through Jesus, the Word, that God made us: body soul and all (John 1:3.)  He made us perfect, right down to our fingernails. 

That word ‘perfector’ is vital.  It’s not just that we were made without blemish; we were made complete ... even down to fastening the ends of our fingers – we were properly finished off.  Doesn’t that deserve, if not inspire, our praise?  No detail was overlooked in the marvel of our creation.  Then, after we’ve exercised our freewill and messed up our lives, that same Jesus “by one offering ... has perfected [us] for all time” (Heb. 10:14.)

When in thoughtful mood, we are likely to drop our eyes and gaze reflectively at our fingernails.  Next time you find yourself doing that, I pray you will recall these paragraphs, and call to mind our amazing faith, and the incredible gift of life that God has given us.

Too Common by Half

Just before the recent Eurovision Song Contest, a radio presenter spoke of “the unthinkable having become commonplace”.  He referred to the transformation of the former Soviet republics, in that they now exhibit a feverish enthusiasm to take part in something that once would have been deplored in their culture.

Those words can be lifted from their context and re-applied in precisely the opposite direction.  How much of what is around us ought to be deplored instead of being welcomed with enthusiasm?  Such deplorable facets of society include so-called ‘reality’ TV programmes that stop little short of pornography.  Profanity or blasphemy (or both) are heard all too often on our streets.  Self-discipline and respect for those in authority – and indeed behaviour by such people that is deserving of respect – have plummeted to such a depth that successive governments have seen fit from time to time to mount positive campaigns to attempt their revival.  And that’s before we even consider the field of professional sport, and the recent Respect campaign that has been seen on our football fields.

Jesus took the Pharisees to task about their hypocrisy: “You have a fine way of setting aside the commands of God in order to observe your own traditions,” (Mk 7:9, NIV).  He gave a list of unworthy priorities and bad character traits (vv. 21-22) that identify man’s lower nature.  It’s the work of only a few moments to check these off against the values and lifestyles of people we know.  Even more worrying is the way that, if we dare, we can find some of them in our own behaviour!

 

Join me, if you will, in a ‘Summer Resolution’ to root these out and destroy them, and to encourage those close to us to do the same … with the help of the Holy Spirit.

Shoving Annie - the Postscript

The company of bell-ringers in my home town have a long-standing practice of going away for a weekend in the spring, to visit and ring the bells at churches in a selected area and enjoy each other’s company in a comfortable hotel.  Sometimes the support for this expedition is greater than at others.  This year we struggled to make the minimum requirements for the group rate at the hotel; we needed just one more to qualify.  I think it was the husband of Dianne, our social secretary, who pointed out that the cheapest strategy to overcome the problem would be to double-up one of the single bookings and share the small addition to the overall cost.  This we did, and thus had an ‘empty bed’.

Two weeks before the event, at our regular practice evening, an informal draw was made to see who should occupy the double room instead of a single: a draw which I was lucky enough to win.  The next day, Dianne had to submit the rooming list to the hotel; she texted me as I was driving to ask what name I would prefer for my 'room-mate'. As I wondered about this, the situation became more real and I considered the possible problem of explaining this person's absence.  I replied, ‘call my wife Hilary – I can easily say she couldn’t make it’.

At that time the text for the blog here called 'Shoving Annie' was already almost complete; that same evening, having been ‘married on the motorway’, as it were, I opened the file to review what I’d written.  As you will see, that blog attacked people who are playing a part, trying to appear something they're not... involved in essence, in deception.  As I read through it again, it hit me that what I had engaged in here, however harmless it might have been, was ... in essence, deception.

I felt a bit like King David confronted by Nathan, post-Bathsheba. I'm sure you’re familiar with the story, but if not you'll find it in II Samuel ch. 12. David got annoyed with the man Nathan told him about; then Nathan pointed out that he had, in effect, condemned himself over his treatment of Uriah.  My draft article now condemned me.

In my subsequent prayers I asked for wisdom concerning what I should do or say. First, how was I to explain the absence of the wife I'd created to occupy the half-empty double room – a challenge that, in the event, was never posed – then, how should I deal with the spiritual situation in which I now found myself?  I decided that to honour my forgiving Lord, I must use this incident as a basis for teaching.  Phase one was a leaflet that I hastily prepared, and handed to all my colleagues at the start of the weekend containing, basically, what you are reading here; this is phase two.

The lesson I’ve learned here is straightforward. We should all be aware just how easy it can be to drift into sin.

Idle Talk that Teaches us

I like watching football, if it’s the local, ‘non-league’ sort, rather than the professional game, but when it comes to other sports, I tend to be quite indifferent.  If it’s on TV when I walk into a room, I’ll watch it, but I wouldn’t scour the schedules and switch on specially to watch an event.  I certainly have no real interest in horse-racing. Nevertheless, a few years ago I found myself in front of a TV set at the time of the Cheltenham Gold Cup.  Amidst the shouts of encouragement from my fellow-watchers (futile, of course, apart from giving vent to their desire for the profitable maturity of the investments they had made with the bookmaker), I sat quietly intrigued by one small detail.

At the fifth fence, one of the horses, Idle Talk, was nudged, and fell, unseating his rider.  Once the remainder of the field had cleared, the jockey got up and walked away unscathed, but the horse continued in the race.  On and on they went, for another lap of the course and more.  Idle Talk was still up with the leaders at the finish and, I believe, crossed the line in second place.

The horse had been well-schooled, and clearly knew what was expected of him.  However, so far as the race itself and the TV commentators were concerned, it was as if he didn’t exist.  Indeed, to the winning jockey he was a definite nuisance, getting in the way of his triumphant run-in to the finish.  Idle Talk certainly didn’t merit a place in the official results, and those who were unfortunate enough to bet on him had seen the last of their money.  And all because of one little slip, as a result of which he arrived at the finish without one essential – his rider.

As I mused on this incident in the succeeding days, I called to mind two verses of Scripture.  In his first letter to the Corinthians, St Paul compared our path through life to running a race.  Pointing out that, in a race, only one competitor wins the prize, he encourages us not to run the race of life aimlessly, but to run it so as not to be disqualified from winning that imperishable wreath, eternal life (I Cor 9:24-27.)  And we see that same need to aim carefully for success illustrated by one of our Lord’s parables.  Jesus spoke of a man who accepted an unexpected invitation to attend a wedding feast (Matt. 22:9ff.)  The king came in to see the guests, and noticed that this man didn’t have the appropriate dress.  The man’s fate was to be ejected ignominiously.  He had reached the winning post, but was found not to qualify – the very thing that Paul advises us to avoid.

 

So, how do we qualify in the race for eternal life?  Simply, in the words of the baptism service, to 'believe and trust in' our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.  It really is as simple as that; He has done the hard work - all we have to do is trust Him.

When you next see a horse and rider on the roads (not an uncommon sight even in this age of the universal motor car), join me in thinking of yourself as the horse.  Let’s take great care not to unseat Jesus the Jockey, lest we should arrive at the winning post without a rider, like Idle Talk in the Gold Cup!

Shoving Annie

From time to time as I travel I enjoy a refreshing alternative to the good old BBC on the radio; I turn to my store of podcasts, and listen to programs from the Irish national radio service, RTÉ.  An amusing snippet that has lingered in my memory from a few years ago came from a programme broadcast on the day of a key international soccer  match.  The presenter had expressed a hope that all her listeners would be supporting the home team that afternoon, and asked by way of interest whether they would join in the singing of the national anthem, “or will you be shoving Annie?”

As a proud Irish-speaker herself, she then explained this expression.  It referred to those Irishmen in the crowd who either didn’t speak Irish, or didn’t know the words of the national anthem, or both.  Their habit, she alleged, was to mumble along with the tune until the rousing final line, when they would raise their voices (their actual words being disguised by the overall volume of the singing) and bellow, “Shoving Annie around the green!”  This is a convenient piece of meaningless English doggerel that sounds roughly like the final words of the original, “Seo libh canaig amhrán na bhFiann.”  Its use was an attempt, she said, to appear as one with the whole body of supporters, despite their personal linguistic shortcomings. 

So, the term ‘shoving Annie’ would refer to mimics, imitators, people trying to be something they are not.  Does this strike a chord with you?  Do you prickle with embarrassment as you recall some way in which you try to cover up your inadequacies, hoping that others won’t notice as you seek benefits to which you aren’t entitled?  The Bible condemns all falsehood, and this is no exception.  We can see from his letters that Paul was on the case.  “If anyone thinks he is something when he is nothing, he deceives himself,” he told his readers in Galatia (Gal. 6:3.)  In another letter the apostle cautioned, “Be careful not to allow anyone to captivate you through an empty, deceitful philosophy that is according to human traditions and the elemental spirits of the world, and not according to Christ. (Col. 2:8.)”

Many of the frailties of the church’s rank and file are exposed in the ‘Letters to the Churches’ that St John shares in his Revelation.  It was those in Thyatira who were told, “I know your deeds: your love, faith, service, and steadfast endurance.  In fact, your more recent deeds are greater than your earlier ones.”  Yes, they were very active, but beneath the surface they were far from pure: “I am the one who searches minds and hearts. I will repay each one of you what your deeds deserve.” (Rev. 2:19, 23b.)

The question that faces each of us is this: how open are we to our Lord’s scrutiny?  To what extent are we trying to be something we’re not?  Or put another way, are you a true believer (supporter), or simply shoving Annie?

What it Says on the Tin

Do you have an embarrassing incident that lingers down the years - something that makes you cringe every time you recall it, and yet you still think of it from time to time?  Here's one of mine.

 

One day my daughter, paying a visit, decided she was hungry and asked if I minded if she made a sandwich.  A few moments later, a sharp squeal sent me dashing into the kitchen.  She had picked up a margarine carton from the fridge and was surprised and not a little embarrassed when the apricots and syrup that it contained spilled onto the kitchen floor.  She told me off soundly about not putting labels on containers when I re-use them for a different purpose.

I realised recently how little parents learn from their children!  I have three matching canisters in my present kitchen, labelled ‘tea’, ‘coffee’ and ‘sugar’.  I always find it difficult to remember whether it is ‘tea’ or ‘coffee’ that contains the rice!

These are simple domestic arrangements, perhaps but, if nothing else, they illustrate the way that one person’s idiosyncratic habits, while normal to him, are not always what someone else might expect.  But had you ever considered that our very lives are a bit like that?  What is an acceptable way of life for us – whether as individuals or as a family – might not be so for other people.  This general consideration applies to wide ranges of behaviour: from domestic violence to offering food to guests and ladies first; from saying grace before meals to whether or not we cover our bodies in the presence of family members.

Far more importantly, these personal habits might not be acceptable to God.  In the Old Testament we learn that God has called each of us by our name – we are His (Isaiah 43:1).  He has given us that label which says ‘Mine’.  We belong to Him, and He cares for us and protects us.  We are made in the image of God, and St. Paul tells us more about this in I Corinthians 6:19-20.  The apostle reminds us of the price that was paid for us, the sacrifice that won for us eternal life.  Because of this, we have a responsibility to act properly, to use our lives wisely, and to treat our bodies in a manner fitting for a holy temple.

Some people wear a cross all the time.  For some it is merely a piece of jewellery and, if it causes trouble with our employers, it can be removed with no deep consideration.  For others, however, it signifies their deep faith and presents a constant challenge to live up to its meaning.  They find it a constant reminder of the target, of how life should be lived.  For these people, in a very practical way, the cross is a kind of label.  Whether visibly expressed or not, it’s a label that applies to all who have chosen to follow Him. 

‘Temple of the Holy Spirit’ - that’s what the label says.  How closely does your life ‘do what it says on the tin’?

Joyful Response

Especially after the harsh winter from which we are slowly recovering, it’s easy to think during Lent of the natural world.  The name Lent comes simply from the Old English ‘lenten’, referring to the days getting longer as winter moves into spring.  My abiding memories of Easters past are of daffodils and the occasional walk in the countryside, where the woods and fields show signs of nature’s colour returning.

Isaiah writes of ​​​​​​​the rain and snow coming down from heaven.  ​​​​​​‘[They] do not return,’ he says, ‘but instead water the earth and make it produce and yield crops, and provide seed for the planter and food for those who must eat.’ (Isaiah 55:10 – Net Bible.)  Check out the rest of that chapter, and you’ll see that its aim is not a lesson in physical and economic geography.  It tells instead of God’s provision, and the great rewards that will come to those who abandon their own (wicked) lifestyle and (sinful) plans, and return to Him (v. 7.)  Nature itself will lead the responding celebrations of joy (vv.12-13.)

Another recollection of a spring walk in the countryside is the early lambs gambolling in the meadows.  Here, too, Isaiah provides a divine perspective and, if your musical background is anything like mine, you have to pinch yourself to remember that it wasn’t Isaiah copying Handel but vice versa, as we read that ‘all we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way.’  There’s no getting away from the truth of Easter, for the verse continues, ‘and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.’ (Isaiah 53:6 – KJV.)

So, as we gradually appreciate the magnitude of this promise, and the sacrifice it involves, how are we to respond?  My suggestion is this.  Just as in the Old Testament the Israelites were encouraged to pay an eye for an eye, etc. (Exodus 21:24-5,) so we should trade sacrifice for sacrifice.  This idea isn’t an original one.  Look at Romans 12:1 and you’ll see what I mean.  Paul encourages us to offer our bodies ‘as a sacrifice, alive, holy and pleasing to God, which is your reasonable service.’  A preacher I heard recently explained that the Greek word that appears here as ‘reasonable’ can also mean ‘logical’; i.e. it is logical that we should respond in this way to the sacrifice that Jesus made on the Cross to win forgiveness for us from the consequences of our sins.

Having set the thought before you, dear reader, I will now leave it to mature.  Read on in this chapter of Romans, and you will find one of Paul’s many lists of the gifts and attributes of the Christian.  He also offers practical ways in which they may be employed.  Each idea he presents is a possible expression of the Joy which is ours at Easter.

Thankful Response

Life had started to get hard for Joan.  Now in her mid-seventies, she found more and more that she couldn’t do for herself, and it was sometimes quite painful even to walk to the corner shop.  She was very glad to have almost daily visits from Pina.  Pina had arrived in the town several years ago from the Balkans.  Her husband had been killed in the fighting there, and she had sought safety with her two young children.

Pina enjoyed calling on Joan, and would dust and hoover, collect shopping for her, make tea and chat, and she learned much about her adopted country in the process.  Her presence in the house lightened the lonely burden of Joan’s life beyond measure.  Then one day Joan discovered that, in order to make time for these visits, Pina had stopped going to a special class where she had been learning business English and computer skills so that, when the children were old enough, she could get herself a job.

Joan didn’t know how to deal with this news.  She couldn’t understand why Pina should make that sacrifice just to spend time with her.  After all, they had little in common except widowhood, and the circumstances of that condition were totally different for each of them.  Pina occasionally noticed a little awkwardness in Joan’s behaviour that she couldn’t account for.  Joan was far more worried about the situation than this little sign revealed.  Then one day she remembered some clothes that were stored away having been outgrown by her grandchildren.  She passed them to Pina for her youngest.  Although she couldn’t get around very well, Joan still enjoyed cooking, and made all her own cakes.  It was about then that, inspired by Pina’s gratitude for the clothes, she began to make larger batches of buns and biscuits, packing up more than half of them into bags which she passed on to her young friend when she called.

This sort of exchange probably happens here and there across most towns.  Is it just a story of two lonely women, or can we learn something more from it?  Pina gave up something which was important to her in order to provide a lifeline to someone to whom she owed nothing.  From the Manger to the Cross, God did the same for us.  He gave His only-begotten Son to save us from the consequences of our sins.  For her part Joan thought it out and, although she couldn’t replace those lost lessons, by practical gifts she found a way to respond to Pina’s generosity.  We can never hope to deserve God’s love or to repay the sacrifice of the Cross, but we are prompted to respond to these blessings.  We do so by giving our time and skills in service to God through the Church or other charities.  Many people also give a proportion of their income as well - based on the Biblical practice of tithing (see Deuteronomy 14:22).  The Church has a ‘shorthand’ name for this response to God by giving our time, talents and treasure: Stewardship.

When did you last review your response to what God has given you?

Freedom

Hooray!  The snow and ice have gone.  No more time wasted scraping windscreens, clearing paths and coping with winter; we can look forward to spring.  During the quiet period that always follows Christmas in the courier industry, I’ve been watching a number of documentaries about World War II, and my mind has drifted towards the return of demobbed servicemen to their families.  Meanwhile the news programmes have told of the Algerian hostage crisis, the war in Mali and the general problems posed by militant Islamists.

These three thoughts may seem unconnected, but ... we are free now from the extra disciplines forced on us by winter; the returning servicemen were free from the military disciplines needed to defeat the enemy; and, after overturning the Taliban regime, the countries making up the coalition in Afghanistan were similarly free either to bring their forces home or to build on that freedom (in the words of the ISAF Mission statement, “in order to provide a secure environment for sustainable stability that is observable to the population.”)

In each case, this freedom is not only freedom from something; it is also freedom to return to normality, which is sometimes easier said than done.  After six years of war, for example, the necessary re-adjustment to married life was sometimes more than man and wife could stand; after a few months of trying, many formerly happy marriages foundered and became a late casualty of the war. 

Let’s relate these examples to our thoughts in Lent.  The purpose of Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross was to free mankind from the consequences of our sinfulness.  That freedom is available to everyone, and all we have to do is repent of our sins and accept God’s forgiveness, because the penalty has already been paid by Jesus.  But the same question arises here about the resulting freedom.  Does it just offer a return to what went before?  Surely, Jesus’ wonderful gift has to be more than simply ‘paying off the bill we’ve incurred up to now.’  How far-reaching is the freedom it brings? 

We need to take heed of the warning to be found in the Gospel at Luke 11:24-26.  In its simplest application, we might relate that forgiveness to a particular aspect of our behaviour and allow the Holy Spirit to eliminate that habit from our lives.  This probably creates more time for us: how do we use that time – to do good, or to acquire other bad habits? 

You might like to think about this passage as part of your own spiritual spring-clean this Lent.

Do You Need a Bath?

Some years ago there was a TV advert – you may recall it – that posed the question, “would you tell your best friend?”  I’m not for one moment suggesting that there are unpleasant odours in our churches, nor am I attempting to promote additional personal hygiene amongst our worshippers, but had you ever considered the many functions of the bathroom?

Naturally, it is a place for cleansing.  Little can be more refreshing than a morning shower, or so relaxing as a foaming bath after a hard day in the garden.  But is there another, less obvious, use for the bathroom?  How many homes these days - at least those below the status of ‘mansion’ - can boast their own private chapel?

Listen, if you will, to the excuses put forward why people find it difficult for what we euphemistically call a ‘quiet time’: a daily opportunity for Bible reading and prayer, a time to draw close to God on a regular basis.  Maybe you use them yourself: “I can’t find the time.”  “My life is so irregular, shifts and so on.”  “There is always someone else around.”  And to those who say these things, each one is true, and each one is apparently insurmountable.  For those who would dearly love to introduce this important habit into their lives, it is an increasing source of frustration, too.

Of course, we’d all like to be able to find time for Bible reading and prayer, and these are very important.  But there is another dimension to our spiritual life, one that even the most devout is liable to overlook: listening to God.  Which of us would face the day without at least a quick splash?  In all but the most overcrowded homes, our time in the bathroom is - and I use the word deliberately - sacrosanct.  We are fairly confident of being alone and, hopefully, unlikely to be disturbed.  So, how about next time you step into the bath or shower (we shouldn’t be embarrassed about standing naked before the Almighty - that’s how he made us, after all!) saying, in full and sincere expectation of an answer, “Hi, God, what have you got to say to me today?”

I love the story of the little girl who, in all innocence, told her teacher that she had found out where God lives.  “And where’s that, dear?” asked the teacher, expecting some deep theological wisdom far beyond the infant’s tender years.  “He lives in our bathroom,” came the reply.  “My daddy was standing outside the bathroom door this morning, shouting ‘God!  Are you still in there?’”

 

So, in all seriousness, do you need a bath?

 

Down Memory Lane

From time to time in my work, I go somewhere completely new, only to arrive at my destination and recognise the building or the location of the loading yard.  I don’t remember the journey, but I now realise that I have been there before, albeit several years ago.  Many more are regular jobs where, if told just the name of our customer and the destination town, I know exactly where I’ll be going, even down to the face or name of the person I’ll see when I get there.

Repetition doesn’t actually add to knowledge but it does embed it firmly in the memory.  This is true of relationships, too.  If you meet someone daily or weekly, you can pick up where you left off; you’re both part of the same ongoing story.  You know what is happening in your friend’s life, and they in yours.  By contrast, consider the experience of a friend who told me a few weeks ago of his visit to a primary school reunion.  He met people there whom he’d not seen for over fifty years.  ‘After a few minutes, learning what trade or profession each other has followed and how many grand-children we have,’ he told me, ‘there’s nothing more to be said, and you move on to the next former fellow-pupil.’

In his ministry, St Paul naturally developed close ties with the churches he established.  But these ties had to be nourished by communication.  When he wasn’t still with a community, he wanted to know how they were getting on; if he heard nothing for a while, he sent one of his colleagues to find out and report back (I Thessalonians 2:17-3:10.)

We can be just as close or distant with our Maker, too.  There is no doubt about His love for each one of us: “I have called you by your name, you are mine” (Isaiah 43:1), and His concern for the minutiae of our existence “Even the very hairs of your head are numbered.” (Matt. 10:30.)  The uncertainty comes in the fickleness of our regard for Him.  Our attentions are often a matter of convenience, but I’d like to suggest two key disciplines that can enrich and boost our devotion.  One of these is a regular pattern of prayer and worship which, once established, can be adapted and strengthened at any time!

The other is to use a prayer remembered from childhood.  One I recall is a bedtime prayer: Lord, keep us safe this night / secure from all our fears / May angels guard us while we sleep / till morning light appears.  Because it’s so deep-rooted, once a key word is said, the remainder flows effortlessly from memory.  So, thinking caps on ... what’s hidden away in the depths of your memory?

Once pronounced, these unforgotten prayers can become living reminders of God’s presence and His love.