Rev's Blog

Are you already tired of Christmas? Christmas films have been on the telly since October and some people have had Christmas trees up for nearly as long. There is always loads of expectation and yet I wonder if the actual day lives up to the hype that we give it. Family arguments and the realisation that some loved ones are no longer here to celebrate with us, bring the season sorrow and not the joy that we’d hoped for. 

Whether you’re religious or not, at this time of year we celebrate a baby entering into the world during a period of turmoil. The world’s superpower was in control of smaller weaker countries; oppression and hope for better days was on the lips of most. The question they would ask is ‘How long will this carry on for? When will there be peace?’ 

The questions they asked are in a way the same questions we ask today (with the exception of what will happen after Brexit), but we remember a baby born 2000 years ago who I believe brought salvation to the world and an opportunity to know The Creator. 

I have not always realised the benefit of being able to go to people for advice when needed. There have been too many times to count when I have made a decision without taking the time to seek the wisdom of others. And in all honesty, most of the time I’ve taken this approach, I have made big mistakes. 

We will keep making mistakes, but true growth comes when we learn from them and/or we seek advice from others. I would even go so far as to say that I believe God has spoken to me through the advice of others. I would rather make a decision based on my own experience and the advice of others than solely on what I think. 

If you look at the lives of those who are remembered for good, there are usually others involved in their lives that they learnt much from. I have recently read a biography of Martin Luther King Jr. I had never realised the number of solid mentors he had who helped to shape him into the person he became. 

Maybe we could even be so bold to hope that we (especially to those we know and care about) may strive to have the opportunity to give good counsel as well as to receive. The lessons we have learnt in life are made more valuable if it is not just us who learn from them.

The other day I came across some beautiful words written by Henri Nouwen. I cannot add to them to make them more powerful than they are. I encourage you to read them and let them sink down into your soul.

Last year I had the sad task of clearing my parents’ house after my mother had died. I hadn’t realised how much stuff I had left there, promising to pick it all up one day. 

One of the things that my parents had kept were my old school reports. As I flicked through the pages all sharing different teachers’ impressions of me as a boy, with the occasional prediction of what could happen to me, I stopped at a report written when I was in year 9 (13 years old) by my Religious Education teacher. In her comments she wrote: “Neil shows no aptitude for the subject and doesn’t really focus in class. This is obviously not his favourite time of the week. As he approaches choosing his GCSE, it might be best if he didn’t choose RE.”  

Thankfully, her remarks didn’t stay with me and while I may still show no aptitude for the subject, I must be doing something right as I managed to become a vicar! Sometimes when we put people into boxes, give them a label or justify our dislike of them by speaking of them unfairly, we don’t just hurt them in the present, but we can hurt them for years to come. Everyone has great potential; let’s try to make sure we don’t take that away by weighing people down with unfair judgments.

The first Church I led was a Church plant (a new church I was asked to start). We grew quickly and had lots of younger people in the congregation. Maybe because of the buzz that was around it, we would attract those who had had very negative experiences of Church before. None was so sad as the story of a young couple who came during the first few weeks of the Church starting. 

They had a little girl who, at a very young age, was diagnosed with terminal cancer. She and they had fought bravely, but the little girl had died. Now, you would think that this was something that could put you off faith for life, but it didn’t, in fact it had got them closer to each other and to faith. What became the issue, was Church. 

The Church they had attended before they came to the Church I was leading, tried to look for an answer as to why this little girl was ill; they came to the conclusion that it must be down to some unconfessed sin on the part of the parents. As hospital appointments gave increasingly worse news, the Church leaders put more and more emphasis on the need for Mum and Dad to repent. The conclusion was inevitable:  after their loss, Mum and Dad left the church hurt and broken. 

This is a very extreme example of a lack of love and empathy (and unfortunately it says a lot about some churches). For me however it shows the power of love; because it’s a story that has no love in it, I can see - by its absence - just how powerful love can be. It could have been a different story if the Church leaders had shown love. Love could have been shown just by journeying with the parents and being there for them, without needing to give answers or incorrect theology. 

Can I encourage you today to remember love; showing love and compassion is a fundamental part of faith.  Are you willing to show love today, even in a small way to someone you meet? If you do, it might just mean the world to them.

One of my most prized possessions is my bonsai tree. I’ve had it for nearly 15 years; I take it to a specialist every few years to get it re-potted. Every time I go for a bigger pot so that each year it gets bigger and bigger. 

Vickie isn’t that impressed with it, mainly because if I go away for something, the nurture of it falls into her hands and I think she’s terrified it might die on her watch. 

It’s been with me through some difficult times. I remember watering it and crying on the day we were told that Vickie had cancer again. I also remember looking at its beauty and being full of joy on the day we were told she was in remission. 

In a very real sense, it helps me to understand my faith: to be helpful, faith has to be a constant- it’s there in the good times and the bad; no matter how we are feeling, it’s good for it to be there. The constancy of faith helps us understand more about the world and about God’s plan for us within it.

Also, like my Bonsai, faith needs a bigger context in which to grow. We all need room to grow. Sometimes that means attempting things that make us fearful or it could mean stepping back and looking at the wider world. 

So, you may not share my love for Bonsai trees, but my prayer for you is that you have a faith that is constant and deep-rooted. 

For community to be important, we must be attuned to each other. Assumption can keep us from doing that. 

A man in an airport bought a packet of biscuits and sat down to read the newspaper. He heard a rustling noise and looked up to see the person next to him helping themselves to the biscuits. Not wanting to make a scene, he leaned over and took a biscuit himself hoping they would get the message. He heard more rustling; he couldn’t believe it - the person was helping themselves to another biscuit. When there was only one left, he watched in disbelief as the person broke the remaining biscuit in two and walked away. He was still angry when his flight was announced, but on looking in his bag to find his ticket he also found his packet of biscuits.

Too often we are guilty of making assumptions about people and once you have put them in a box, it’s hard to see them in any other way. 

Every time a good tailor sees a client, they take new measurements; they never assume they’re the same size as before. Never make assumptions about a person; once you do you are in danger of not seeing the potential they have.

Recently, I have been reflecting a lot on motivation. Why do we have the energy to complete some things, but feel demotivated with others? 

One student, who I used to mentor, was once going through a period of being unmotivated. He saw no point in studying and felt that it was far too much trouble to attend some of his lectures. He used words like ‘lost’ or ‘not in the right place’.

In an attempt to help him, I went back to the start when he used to come into my office all fired up all ready for the challenge. I reminded him of his father who had passed away suddenly a few years before, and how he would talk about doing well in memory of him. He seemed happier once he had motivation again - as far as I know it stayed that way.

In big challenges and small ones we all need motivation. Our verse this month tells us what that can be: believe that you are not alone in your challenge; have faith that ‘everything’ you face can be defeated. Having faith can give you ‘strength’ to achieve what may otherwise seem impossible. Why not have faith today to find the motivation you need?

I think that as I journey on, I’m beginning to realise more and more that life is about perspective. Sometimes we almost need to step out of our situation to see the truth. I suppose that’s the amazing thing about hope. Hope is (in a sense) just seeing things differently. 

A few years ago I was in Israel; I went with a friend and we spent some time in Jerusalem. It’s an amazing place. One day while we were having lunch near the Wailing Wall, I noticed a small child walking on the top of a huge set of steps. She was playing and skipping - basically just being a child. She then turned to face the steps and jumped. I nearly had a heart attack; these steps were big, crumbly, hard things. If you jumped and hit the ground you were in for a serious injury. It was only as I jumped up in shock that I saw her dad catch her at the bottom. 

You see, my view was limited. I could only see the little girl jumping; it wasn’t until I changed my perspective that hope was restored. I don’t know why bad things happen. I don’t know why pain and suffering can at times be all around us. I don’t know why there is cancer, divorce and war. I have many questions for God. But I’m beginning to know this - perspective gives us hope.

See your situation differently; try and see the hope that is in everything. In our verse today it feels to me like the writer has realised this. They are asking themselves why they feel like they do; why they are so sad; then they realise the beauty that even where discouragement and sadness is, hope still sits in the middle. They find the hope because instead of focusing on the negative, they change perspective and see the hope found in God.

I think that if I hadn’t studied theology, I would have wanted to study history. I have always loved learning about the past, and the events and people that shaped our lives today. 

When I became a Christian, that love carried on. Whilst training, I used to look forward to hearing the accounts of the early Church as well as those who are more recent but still lived centuries ago. The accounts of C. H. Spurgeon and others filled me with interest and a little bit of dread (could any Church leader live up to the standard of people like that?). The stories of how these people started Churches and had them full in a matter of months were astounding. How Spurgeon would preach on average 12 times a week (and this was Baptist sermons of 40+ minutes) and still have time to see many people for pastoral care is really intimidating when you’re training. 

Sometimes that intimidation can affect us all; it might be someone who used to work in the job you now do or maybe your partner’s ex. What you hear about how good they were can make you feel a little inadequate and unable to achieve the same standard. 

Let’s get some perspective in this: God has been at work since the beginning. God was present before you, is present now and will be when we are gone; that should fill us with hope. The generations before us had weaknesses and strengths just as we do and yet God was present in the rhythm of life. 

Take heart, you have all the ability you need to fulfil your calling. If God got those before us through what life threw at them, then he will not forsake you. 

There is something I still find very annoying when those who profess to have no faith tell me that I have taken the easy way in life by believing in God. It’s like they believe faith acts like some sort of opt-out clause in a contract: no need to worry about the big questions in life, because now (even though you don’t have the answers) you have decided not to search anymore. I’m afraid they couldn’t be further from the truth. 

I don’t know about you, but having faith is not easy and I still have huge questions. In our verses today, Jesus states that faith is not the easy road to take. Taking up your cross is not nice language which suggests your life will now be easy and all your questions will be answered - it’s actually the opposite. 

As we try to understand and make sense of all the bad things that happen in the world, it is up to us - no matter how hard - to seek peace and find the better way. I wonder if God despairs of humanity at times: things are done in God’s name and then revenge is taken in God’s name. War is declared in the name of truth and God and yet more people are displaced, harmed and killed. 

In the midst of this, all people of faith (not just Christians) are called to follow the more difficult way of reconciliation and peace. My prayer for you and me this Christmas time is, whether we’re struggling to understand what’s going on in our world or what’s going on in our lives, that we would still have the strength to carry on the road of faith. 

From my experience of pastoral care, I would say that eventually if you’re pretending at something then you will be caught out. I remember a few years ago when I was running a youth group, we had a lad who would tell us every week he was excellent at guitar. He claimed to be in a band that had performed in front of talent scouts and were on the verge of hitting the big time. One week another youth leader brought in her guitar to see if anyone wanted to play- the lad in question confessed he couldn’t actually play a single chord! 

I think it’s the same with love and affection: you can pretend for a while, but after time the pretence fades. In my experience, love shown in huge ways so that everyone sees, is often a pretence - it’s the quiet care and love for others that expects no reward that seems to me to be more genuine. 

I once had the privilege of leading a wedding blessing for a couple that had been married for 60 years. They still held hands and did everything together; at home, their chairs were next to each other and they would hold hands. Sadly the husband died a few weeks after the service. When visiting his widow, she would still sit with her hand resting on the arm of his chair- as if they were still holding hands. 

That’s genuine love; there was no pretence; nothing that would earn reward, just genuine love. When I was a College Chaplain, I used to worry about some of my students who seemed to have relationship after relationship. When I spoke to them, it was obvious what they were looking for: they wanted to be genuinely loved. 

Genuine love and care are at times not rewarded with anything. What matters most is if we are capable of genuine love, kindness and of doing good- a reward is just an added bonus. If we don’t see that our main purpose for life is to serve others, then I worry about the future of the world.

Whilst at Theological College, I used to get a little worried at times. Many of my contemporaries never seemed to have to wrestle with anything we were being taught. I don’t mean they just accepted doctrines because the lecturers told us they were correct, it just seemed to me that, unlike in my case, belief seemed very straight forward. 

In some ways, I was jealous; it seemed that every idea and concept was something I had to ‘chew over’ and wrestle with, and even now, years on, there are still things I struggle with. My other memory is my Tutor giving me the advice that when I preach make sure you’ve taken the collection up before- it might be good advice. 

I have always loved Matthew 28; the resurrected Jesus gives a final message to his closest friends. His words are a challenge to share this Gospel message with the world, a world that may have looked intimidating and frightening. He entrusts this sacred work to a small group of individuals.

What really speaks to me is that this commission is given to a group where some of its members are still doubting what they are seeing (verse 17). This huge responsibility is given to those who struggle and wrestle and aren’t sure. Maybe that’s what I find so appealing about faith: that in some very spiritual way, we find faith in the doubts and fears and questioning. It makes me think maybe I’m okay, maybe a faith achieved by a long journey of searching is actually not a bad faith to have.

I pride myself in being up to speed with most developments in theology and have been influenced by some important theological works; however, I have been influenced by other wisdom as well. 

My youngest son loves the film ‘Cars’. If you haven’t seen it, I don’t want to spoil it for you, but the story is about a race car who believes he doesn’t need anyone’s help in order to succeed. The film takes him through certain mishaps and eventually he realises that he needs others around him (He also realises that winning isn’t actually everything). It’s a refreshing story in the midst of many children’s films that seem to portray a sense of self-dependence rather than community cohesion.

I believe that there is something incredibly important to God about community and unity. I have seen many amazing projects being undertaken when a body of people commit to each other and stand united. Peaceful unity is often at the heart of the most peaceful movements that have changed the world for the better. When we stop valuing those around us; when we stop hearing the views of others and when we start to think we are the only ones who are right, we are in danger of losing that special connection with others and achieving so much. 

Complicated as it sounds, even God - in Christian doctrine - is in community by being Father, Son and Spirit. So if God dwells in unity and community, then I don’t think it’s a bad idea that we do. It’s at times of great distress and hardship that we truly see the benefit of community unity. 

I challenge us all at the start of this new season, to value each other’s diversity and to work together. We may not always agree with each other - we might not even always like each other -  but community is still so important for us to adhere to.

I have sat with many people who have lost loved ones. It isn’t always because they’ve died; sometimes I have sat with parents whose children have left home or with people who have just got divorced. In all these types of bereavement, there is a similar sense of life not being the same and of loneliness. 

The realisation that your loved one is no longer with you can be devastating for some. I think loneliness is something many of us fear the most. I feel that I can cope with much of what life throws at me if I have loved ones around, but if I didn’t have those people, then I don’t know how I would be. 

One of the greatest promises of the Christian faith is simply that you will never be alone. Life is lived more fully when we are in connection with others, and I would say is lived to its fullest when we are in connection with God. The Christian promise is that God will not leave. No matter what you face, the promise is that you will not be alone.

People, throughout the ages, have taken comfort from this and have experienced a renewal of strength and hope because of this. Many of those who have stood up against injustice - such as William Wilberforce - truly believed that they were not standing alone; it was God who was with them. 

You have come too far in your life to give up now; God stands with you and will not let you down. You may not see God; you may not be able to audibly hear God, but trust that God is there even when others are not. 

The village that I grew up in has a really beautiful parish church on the edge of it; the archway of the main entrance is huge. At the bottom of it is the cornerstone, the stone which all the others were built to follow. On this you can see little crosses carved into the stone. Some are complete crosses, whereas others have only the vertical line carved into the stone. 

The story is that many centuries ago, the Lord of the manor rallied his troops, along with others, to rise up against the King. Some of his army came from the village. Now people aren’t sure why, but some of the soldiers (before the battle) carved the vertical line of the cross onto the stone, then if they survived the battle (and many didn’t), they put the horizontal line onto the stone to complete their cross. 

There is something sombre when you look at the many crosses that aren’t finished. Maybe the soldiers carved the crosses because of a hope and trust they had, or maybe one did it and others hoped, in doing the same, that God would protect them. Whatever the reason, the image it gave me has stayed with me for many years. 

The church is not only based around this one stone, but so are - in deeper ways - the people who have lived in the Parish. This cornerstone is not just really important for the structure of the church building, but in a very real way, it’s important for the community. This stone has had villagers’ hopes and fears put on it also. 

In the same way, you could see Jesus as this person locked into a past time, someone who gave some good moral teaching; was just called for that purpose; or you could see him as someone who relevant and important to our lives today. Not just a great teacher, but the resurrected Son of God who allows us to put all our sorrow, all our worries and all our hopes and dreams on to him - He is our cornerstone.