In my Bible readings recently, I've been directed to some verses in Luke ch.6 (there's a similar passage in Matthew, ch.5); they're known as 'Beatitudes', from the Latin for 'blessing'. You may be familiar with some of them, e.g. 'Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied.' (Luke 6:21). Verse 17 tells us that a large crowd had gathered, flocking in from near and far.
This was quite early in Jesus' earthly ministry. People had heard that here was someone who could heal sickness, drive away evil spirits and perform other wonderful miracles; they wanted to see for themselves and if possible benefit from what he offered. Certainly the things he promised were very attractive to people like the Jews, who were living under the rigours of Roman occupation. Then, just as nowadays, it was easy to be attracted by the apparent promise of something for nothing, the prospect of the hungry being fed, the poor inheriting this 'Kingdom of God' (whatever it might be in reality, it sounded like something worth having!), and what about those who weep suddenly laughing?
They heard His message in purely practical terms, food where there was none, wealth to replace poverty, and an end to sorrow. This Jesus was going to turn the world on its head! How right they were. The world would never be the same again after Jesus ... but not in the way they were expecting. And is that how we see God, why we say our prayers? Do we think of God, or Jesus, only as a heavenly magician, a purveyor of good fortune?
Jesus told a parable that we know as 'the Parable of the Sower' or 'the Parable of the Soils' (Matthew 13:1-23). In it the reaction of people to His preaching is illustrated by seed sown on a variety of soils. In particular, some seed fell on rocky soil and some among thorns. The seed that fell on rocky ground indicates people who receive the message with joy but quickly fall away in the face of trouble ... or when they don't get what they pray for.
Then there's the seed that fell among thorns. The thorns are all the worries of life, travelling through the snow, coping with the vagaries of a railway system undergoing a change of timetable, or the threat of queues and shortages following Brexit; things that people find pre-occupying, choking the Good News that Jesus brings.
So what happens when things don't go the way we expect, when darkness comes into our world but it seems that the answer to our prayers appears to be 'no' ... or else there's no answer at all? Prayer is not - as some people think - a way of controlling God, of getting Him to do what we need, or what would like. It's not a means of invoking what we read in the scriptures as 'His promises to everybody'. Instead it is a way of bringing us closer to Him, placing ourselves within His control. When He was speaking to his disciples shortly before His death, Jesus warned them, "A time is coming ... when you will be scattered, each to your own home. ... I have told you these things, so that you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." (John 16:32-33).
Life with Jesus is not one in which everything goes swimmingly all our way. He is with us, through the Holy Spirit, not to help us get around difficulties, but to show us the way through them, and to give us strength and encouragement to overcome them. There's a wonderful story of a man who looked back on his life and saw it in the form of footsteps through the desert. He was reassured to see two sets of footprints, his own and those of his Lord. Then he realised that when he was going through the darkest places, there was only one set of footprints. He asked, "Where were you, God, when I needed you most?" And the Lord said to him, "That was when I was carrying you."
Where are you on the path of life just now? Are there black clouds of misfortune - or worse, despair - overhead? Have you prayed without success for a new car, a job or an extra '0' on your bank balance? Try to share your worries with Someone who wants to be your Friend; ask Him how you can improve your own situation, or talk to someone who is already His friend. Prayer is only complicated if we make it so; it's not only Busby of the BT ad a few years ago who says, 'It's good to talk!'
Friday 15 February 2019
Friday 1 February 2019
Book-ends
I don't believe it's that uncommon for people to link a specific occurrence to an earlier one of which it is either a repeat or the reverse ... like the selling of a car, for example, linked to its original purchase. But, on such an occasion, do you reflect on all that the pages between those two 'book-end' events record?
Last Saturday, I finalised a short sequence that saw the disposal of the robes I had used when serving as a Reader in my village church in Norfolk. In a few months' time it will be 38 years since I was one of a party of young (mostly) men who were admitted and licensed in Norwich Cathedral; I obtained at that time a small suitcase that became home to those robes, and has remained so ever since. Now they have found a new home, and have taken the case with them ... leaving me a small free space in my bedroom.
At the time, my licensing provided useful support to a priest who had four parishes to look after. Another Reader and I (he was licensed the following year) were able, with the help of a retired Bishop who lived nearby, to keep things running a couple of years later when we were without a Rector, and then provided similar support to the next incumbent. After a few years my personal circumstances changed; I moved to Hertfordshire, and made a number of efforts to continue to support my church in a similar way, all to no avail. From the church's point of view, that phase of my ministry had come to an end.
For me, however, there was no going back to what had been before. There are different forms of ministry: some ordained, some lay; there are different forms of lay ministry: some licensed, some not. Not all Readers are in licensed positions ... for many years now I've been one of them and this blog is one way in which I serve the wider church ... service not confined to my own denomination and certainly not just to my own parish. I regard being a Reader as a way of life: as much so now as then when I wore the blue scarf. I recognise, though, that my parochial services are no longer going to be required; so it seems appropriate to pass on the paraphernalia of those times to someone with whom they can once more be put to use.
I also recognise the possibility of other challenges on the horizon. When I was admitted all those years ago, I was presented with a New Testament and a Service Book. In the front of the latter was a dedication, signed by both the Bishop and my Rector, referring to the Bible verse "The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor."(Luke 4:18). These were words that Jesus quoted from Isaiah's prophecy when he preached in the synagogue at Nazareth, his home town. They marked a turning point in His life, and on the occasion of my admission, they marked a turning point in my own.
Those same words were part of the readings in our service on Sunday, the day after I'd handed over my robes. It underlines last weekend as a book-end moment. Over the last year or so, there have been changes in my life, in my behaviour and in the things that I'm involved with; at the turn of the year I handed over the Health & Safety responsibilities that I held in my church for the last three years, and I find myself asking 'What now?' So far there is no sign of an answer to that question.
But what have my experiences to say to you, dear reader? What might be happening in your life - right now - that is a ending, matching something that began a while ago? The Holy Spirit speaks to us in a variety of ways and we must be careful not to read too much into what could be a coincidence. However, if we don't get the message the first time, there could well be a repeat and we have to be ready to respond.
Last Saturday, I finalised a short sequence that saw the disposal of the robes I had used when serving as a Reader in my village church in Norfolk. In a few months' time it will be 38 years since I was one of a party of young (mostly) men who were admitted and licensed in Norwich Cathedral; I obtained at that time a small suitcase that became home to those robes, and has remained so ever since. Now they have found a new home, and have taken the case with them ... leaving me a small free space in my bedroom.
At the time, my licensing provided useful support to a priest who had four parishes to look after. Another Reader and I (he was licensed the following year) were able, with the help of a retired Bishop who lived nearby, to keep things running a couple of years later when we were without a Rector, and then provided similar support to the next incumbent. After a few years my personal circumstances changed; I moved to Hertfordshire, and made a number of efforts to continue to support my church in a similar way, all to no avail. From the church's point of view, that phase of my ministry had come to an end.
For me, however, there was no going back to what had been before. There are different forms of ministry: some ordained, some lay; there are different forms of lay ministry: some licensed, some not. Not all Readers are in licensed positions ... for many years now I've been one of them and this blog is one way in which I serve the wider church ... service not confined to my own denomination and certainly not just to my own parish. I regard being a Reader as a way of life: as much so now as then when I wore the blue scarf. I recognise, though, that my parochial services are no longer going to be required; so it seems appropriate to pass on the paraphernalia of those times to someone with whom they can once more be put to use.
I also recognise the possibility of other challenges on the horizon. When I was admitted all those years ago, I was presented with a New Testament and a Service Book. In the front of the latter was a dedication, signed by both the Bishop and my Rector, referring to the Bible verse "The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor."(Luke 4:18). These were words that Jesus quoted from Isaiah's prophecy when he preached in the synagogue at Nazareth, his home town. They marked a turning point in His life, and on the occasion of my admission, they marked a turning point in my own.
Those same words were part of the readings in our service on Sunday, the day after I'd handed over my robes. It underlines last weekend as a book-end moment. Over the last year or so, there have been changes in my life, in my behaviour and in the things that I'm involved with; at the turn of the year I handed over the Health & Safety responsibilities that I held in my church for the last three years, and I find myself asking 'What now?' So far there is no sign of an answer to that question.
But what have my experiences to say to you, dear reader? What might be happening in your life - right now - that is a ending, matching something that began a while ago? The Holy Spirit speaks to us in a variety of ways and we must be careful not to read too much into what could be a coincidence. However, if we don't get the message the first time, there could well be a repeat and we have to be ready to respond.
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