It's Spreading!

Just think how many times in an average week you spread something.  Most likely it's butter on bread or toast before applying jam or marmalade, or some other tasty sandwich filling.  A farmer in ages past would spread his seed 'broad-cast' from a basket strapped on his chest; nowadays there are great machines to do this for him.

Another spreading, less conscious, but more significant, is the spreading of disease.  Our awareness of that has been heightened recently with the advent of the corona virus, and a short while ago, ebola.  One of the ways adopted to stop the spread of either is to discourage people from touching each other.  In most societies touch is so important ... to touch someone, offering a hand of friendship or support, or the shaking of hands in greeting, is to many second nature and so instinctive that to stop it is very difficult.

In church this is something we do quite often as part of our liturgy ... and maybe take for granted.  It's known as 'sharing the peace'.  For non-church-goers I should explain that this is a semi-formal occasion when we get up and greet one another with a handshake, or a hug, or whatever seems appropriate, in the name of God.  It's also an opportunity for a quick apology, an enquiry about aches and pains or something more serious, or for a few words of catch-up with someone we haven't seen for a few weeks.

Someone pointed out in a recent conversation that, out of all the people she had greeted that morning, she knew the names of all but one, and could greet them personally.  It niggled her that there was one person with whom she had so far had neither a conversation nor the opportunity to discover his name, and she resolved to correct this at the earliest opportunity.  Our discussion moved on to the recognition that this 'semi-formal process' is - or can be, if looked at in the right way - an expression of our calling as people of God to spread His love to those around us.

One of the elements - indeed, the key element - of our Faith is Jesus' death and resurrection; on the night before He died He celebrated the Passover with his disciples and, after the meal, He prayed for them (a prayer that is summarised in chapter 17 of John's Gospel). "As You sent Me into the world," Jesus prayed, "I have sent them into the world. ... My prayer is not for them alone.  I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message." (John 17:18,20). Notice particularly those last few words.

Jesus sent His disciples into the world to spread far and wide the message of what he had taught them and of what He was about to do for the whole of mankind.  The same love that sent Him to the Cross is ours to share with those around us.  Earlier in His conversation with the disciples, Jesus had spoken of them being like the branches of a vine.  He told them, "I am the vine; you are the branches.  If you remain in Me and I in you, you will bear much fruit." (John 15:5).

In our turn, we share that mission, too.  It doesn't mean we all have to stand on street corners proclaiming to passers-by ... though some are called to do just that.  Often it's the small things done to or for someone close that sow the seeds of that fruit in their hearts.  In our prayers in church each week, and individually in our homes, we pray for many classes of people in need: victims of war; people burdened by guilt, filled with anxiety, sorrow or despair; those who are lonely or alone, whose homes have become a prison;  people living with difficult or broken relationships, who don't know where to turn or what to do.  All are victims, one way or another, of a lack of love.  If we keep our eyes and ears open, keeping aware of the names and needs around us, we can spread God's love to them.

Matthew concluded his Gospel with words often referred to as 'the Great Commission': "Go and make disciples of all nations" (Matt:28:19).  The most successful way to do this is by spreading God's love. 

I Told You So!

Confession, they say, is good for the soul.  This post is therefore by way of being a dose of soul-medicine.  It's far more personal than my usual offering, and I hope my readers will forgive that and bear with me as I begin with a fairly long explanatory narrative.

Every year about this time our church carries out a formal review of members' stewardship of their time and talents.  It goes under a variety of names and formats, but essentially gives people the opportunity to confirm that they will continue doing what they are already doing within the church community, to say that they would prefer to step down, or to say that they would like to take on a new role.

Three years ago, I ticked a box indicating that I was willing to be part of an initiative to produce - or at least consider the introduction of - a parish magazine.  I had no idea how demanding this would be of my time, nor who else - if anyone - would be interested.  I found myself one of a committee of three, and over the next six months we drew up a proposal and a budget, sought and obtained the approval of the church council, compiled and produced our first copy.  It thereafter appeared regularly, three times a year, until the end of last year.

Each of us had particular abilities and talents that we were able to contribute; we each live very busy lives with a number of other commitments and responsibilities and, occasionally, an issue had to be delayed, but never by more than a week.  The lady who compiled the actual copy on her computer and pressed the button to send the final layout to the printer gave due warning that she would like to step down after the January edition and efforts were made to secure a replacement.  When her personal circumstances suddenly became more demanding, and with a successor in the frame, she relinquished her duties more abruptly than had been foreseen ... before this latest edition had gone to press.

To cut a long story short, suffice it to say that the incomer soon found himself caught in a 'cross-fire' situation.  Unfortunately, instead of telling all concerned of the difficulties he faced and inviting an alternative solution, he struggled on and only partially revealed the problems, with the result that I, and others, had been 'kept in the dark' and I consequently decided that my time as one of the editorial team should come to an end.  When that 'commitment' form came round the other week, I ticked a different box!

The publication that has emerged was finally distributed last weekend and is completely different from those that preceded it.  While, objectively, I have to say that there is nothing wrong with it per se, I felt quite bitter to see certain pieces, which I had prepared, worked on or discussed for one purpose, presented in a totally different context and appearance ... and, in one instance, significantly changed from how it was originally planned and envisaged.

Invited the other morning to comment about this new magazine, I sounded off in the vein of the preceding paragraphs.  Instead of sympathy, my friend's response came in somewhat sharp tones, "We have to bear with one another in love, Brian"  I recognised words from Paul's letter to the Ephesians (Eph.4:2), and the exchange set me thinking.  It's only a few weeks since I read the book of Jonah and I now realise that I was heading into the same bind as he did.  The climax of the story is at Jonah 3:10-4:1.

Jonah didn't want the people of Nineveh to be forgiven; he wanted them destroyed.  He tried to avoid going there to preach God's message, fearful that they would turn from their ways and be forgiven ... which is exactly what happened.  He had forgotten how God forgave him, and rescued him from the great fish, but he was angry when God forgave the Ninevites.  Jonah just didn't understand the universality of God.

I was not only annoyed at seeing an end result that wasn't what I had aimed for but also angry that I had not been given the chance to help rescue the original publication: I felt shut out.   But who am I to blame someone for doing his best and failing?  And, after all, is my definition of failure the only one?  Another verse from Paul's writings comes to mind.  It's one that has stuck in my memory after seeing it in a TV western many years ago.  Romans 12:19 reminds us just whose is the responsibility of blame and punishment:  "'Vengeance is mine; I will repay,' says the Lord".

It's an object lesson for me - and others, too, perhaps - in anger management!