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!