I read an end of year reflection by a young man this morning who is on a plane right now jetting off to my country of birth! A very good read indeed! I was wondering what I could possibly say that would reflect my own gratitude at this time.
The year has ended with the loss of a young man from our College. Trying to celebrate while sharing the enormous sense of community grief and shock is not an easy balancing act. As one whose trade is in words (I'm paid to use them, I've been told) - there are times when I too have no words. Just a deep groaning, the painful agony that we share. But then one more proficient in words once penned these: “Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break.” So I will dredge up some words in the midst of this deep sad space. So many people have extended such grace and care for me - and even the list of birthday wishes from so many is in inspiration and a huge help. Thank you!
There isn't a moment in our lives when people are not dying - where somewhere on this weary planet the painful tearing of loss does not rip loved ones from their lovers. And in the midst of these separations, tiny new hands reach out as wailing living bundles of joy are warmly welcomed by a mother's exhausted arms and caring soothing hands.
This is life. The loss of a young man - a child, son, brother, grandson and friend, is both tragic and terrible. We will yet move along this bumpy road of clumsy goodbyes and awkward questions laced with frail vulnerability. We will hold on to each other and hopefully - hold on to our gracious Lord and God of whom my many words over all these years have valiantly tried to redirect the thoughts and wills of very sharp minds and passionate hearts.
This is our life. How can we risk the agony of walking on this road alone? So as you share my birthday with me - take some time to share the deepest thoughts and feelings you have today with another traveller. There are many good people close at hand with compassion and listening hearts who will help you comprehend even your darkest days!
And shout out loud the celebrations - bold declarations that this life - so deep and wide and high and long - is full of loves and eager expectations, dreams and hopes which we yet will share together.
Shalom.
Monday, 13 December 2010
Friday, 3 December 2010
Advent
We remain people of the south. None of this wet white or sludgy Christmas with melting snow. For the last week we have had real southern summer - such a familiar feeling with real sunshine and warmth. I need a bigger hat! A-la the westerns of old, perhaps a cowboy version, having already had two sessions with our beloved doctor and her liquid nitrogen cylinder which reminds me of a shaving cream or instant whipped cream dispenser! The manifestations of actinic keratosis have been nuked! Of course its also termed senile keratosis which is a novel thought as my next 50-something birthday is next week! :-) Perhaps a larger bowling hat will help!
We have reached some milestones as I alluded to in my shorter earlier epistle. All three children are now post-secondary education. How we remember with exhaustion years of school trips. We are also in that peculiar state where we have indicated we are leaving Wellington but realise that there is still much to be done in the interim months - December to March! The waiting game? A time of preparation...
For this reason I have been reading again on parish/congregational ministry - the work of "pastor" with its peculiar demands. Appropriately I have begun with "Ministry Burnout" by John Sanford, interspersed with a newish biography on John Calvin! The first of these reminds me about what Gordon MacDonald termed "VDP's" - the very draining people termed by Kunkel (as quoted by Sanford) as "clinging vines." I am sure I will have lots of VIPs - very inspiring people!
My reading of the book on Calvin's life reveals a fascinating pattern which the reformer conformed to - he was hired as a chaplain and then hired a lesser mortal to do his job at a lower rate of pay. Thus he had time to study and research! An entirely acceptable practice, it seems, which I have sadly discovered too late in my work as chaplain here! Bother.
The Advent season here is not really adhered to by the bulk of shoppers - they are not waiting but shopping like crazy. The spending season has been rolling along. The anticipation of presents I am sure is exciting for the youngsters. We enjoy the Christmas traditions - they have a nurturing function in terms of the wonderful memories that are evoked.
Waiting on the Lord is another thing altogether. Tomorrow the bishop of Wellington is preaching at our local church. I am sure he will enlighten us all. We visited the Cathedral this morning and saw some amazing paintings by children of Gaza - which expose the raw pain of war and conflict and the hope of new life and peace. There must be much waiting for new beginnings in so many parts of the world.
We remember those families of the 29 trapped miners at Pike river - who are now waiting only for the recovery of their remains. We remember those who are waiting for employment, for healing, for faith and hope to be restored. From tomorrow's readings:
Rom 15:13 May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
May you be blessed at this time as you wait on the Lord, and reflect on his first and second comings.
We have reached some milestones as I alluded to in my shorter earlier epistle. All three children are now post-secondary education. How we remember with exhaustion years of school trips. We are also in that peculiar state where we have indicated we are leaving Wellington but realise that there is still much to be done in the interim months - December to March! The waiting game? A time of preparation...
For this reason I have been reading again on parish/congregational ministry - the work of "pastor" with its peculiar demands. Appropriately I have begun with "Ministry Burnout" by John Sanford, interspersed with a newish biography on John Calvin! The first of these reminds me about what Gordon MacDonald termed "VDP's" - the very draining people termed by Kunkel (as quoted by Sanford) as "clinging vines." I am sure I will have lots of VIPs - very inspiring people!
My reading of the book on Calvin's life reveals a fascinating pattern which the reformer conformed to - he was hired as a chaplain and then hired a lesser mortal to do his job at a lower rate of pay. Thus he had time to study and research! An entirely acceptable practice, it seems, which I have sadly discovered too late in my work as chaplain here! Bother.
The Advent season here is not really adhered to by the bulk of shoppers - they are not waiting but shopping like crazy. The spending season has been rolling along. The anticipation of presents I am sure is exciting for the youngsters. We enjoy the Christmas traditions - they have a nurturing function in terms of the wonderful memories that are evoked.
Waiting on the Lord is another thing altogether. Tomorrow the bishop of Wellington is preaching at our local church. I am sure he will enlighten us all. We visited the Cathedral this morning and saw some amazing paintings by children of Gaza - which expose the raw pain of war and conflict and the hope of new life and peace. There must be much waiting for new beginnings in so many parts of the world.
We remember those families of the 29 trapped miners at Pike river - who are now waiting only for the recovery of their remains. We remember those who are waiting for employment, for healing, for faith and hope to be restored. From tomorrow's readings:
Rom 15:13 May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
May you be blessed at this time as you wait on the Lord, and reflect on his first and second comings.
Friday, 4 June 2010
Reflections on Queen's birthday weekend
It's been a while since I posted anything personal here. I thought I would say something about the Monarchy. Princess Elizabeth Alexandra Mary was born on April 21, 1926. Her birthday celebration here in New Zealand on an apparently unrelated date has given us a long weekend. Now amongst my many friends there are bound to be some raving republicans. I B sure that some of my work colleagues are thinking that the weekend is not long enough, although the boys at school get 5 days! I think that when this weekend break comes all of us are staunchly royalist in a most selfless manner.
My contention is that in a rapidly changing and chaotic world Queen Elizabeth II has been a rather nice and constant pillar of strength. She was born eight months after my mum. So their lives were lived in virtual parallel. She simply was. And she is, despite the amazing misfortunes that have beset her sometimes wayward family. She has exhibited a stoicism and resilience in the face of decades of very challenging human history. She has seen so many Prime Ministers come and go. And her nation has changed in its fabric and imperial influence through these busy years.
My mum died on the same day as Princess Diana, and on what would have been my parents' 40th wedding anniversary. My emotional ties with the royal family are peculiar on account of this. A young and deeply painful life ended, and people mourned in a way that Britain will no doubt not see again. But Elizabeth remains on the throne. And should she be as strong as her mother, we may find that she will outlive some of us. How steadfast that institution.
Is there some hidden message here? I could speak of the unchanging love of God as an ultimate bulwark and protection from the ravages of change. Greater than the notion of resilience of a human throne is the faithfulness of a heavenly lover, a God portrayed as immutable and steadfast, One who never lets us go.
In the words of the Psalmist - "Your love reaches to the heavens, and your faithfulness to the clouds."
I could also speak of the One whose love for us paid a price for our adoption into the family of the Faithful One. The writer to the Hebrews puts it thus:
"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God."
It is to the one who is seated at the right hand of the throne of God that we turn for our ultimate assurance and sense of continuity - Jesus the same yesterday, today and forever.
Be loved, beloved, and filled with His life forever.
My contention is that in a rapidly changing and chaotic world Queen Elizabeth II has been a rather nice and constant pillar of strength. She was born eight months after my mum. So their lives were lived in virtual parallel. She simply was. And she is, despite the amazing misfortunes that have beset her sometimes wayward family. She has exhibited a stoicism and resilience in the face of decades of very challenging human history. She has seen so many Prime Ministers come and go. And her nation has changed in its fabric and imperial influence through these busy years.
My mum died on the same day as Princess Diana, and on what would have been my parents' 40th wedding anniversary. My emotional ties with the royal family are peculiar on account of this. A young and deeply painful life ended, and people mourned in a way that Britain will no doubt not see again. But Elizabeth remains on the throne. And should she be as strong as her mother, we may find that she will outlive some of us. How steadfast that institution.
Is there some hidden message here? I could speak of the unchanging love of God as an ultimate bulwark and protection from the ravages of change. Greater than the notion of resilience of a human throne is the faithfulness of a heavenly lover, a God portrayed as immutable and steadfast, One who never lets us go.
In the words of the Psalmist - "Your love reaches to the heavens, and your faithfulness to the clouds."
I could also speak of the One whose love for us paid a price for our adoption into the family of the Faithful One. The writer to the Hebrews puts it thus:
"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God."
It is to the one who is seated at the right hand of the throne of God that we turn for our ultimate assurance and sense of continuity - Jesus the same yesterday, today and forever.
Be loved, beloved, and filled with His life forever.
Saturday, 15 May 2010
Friday, 9 April 2010
Leaders and Followers
An article from an Educational Leadership magazine in recent months made me think seriously about our styles of leadership. The question raised was very simple – why do people follow you? And of course, why would they? There is an old maxim that appears in leadership journals occasionally: if you’re out there leading and nobody is following, then you’re really just out for a walk. Alone.
The seasons of Lent and Easter have made me reconsider the followers of Jesus and the tough decisions they had to make. It must have been exciting when Jesus was welcomed into town like a hero. It was probably amazing when large crowds gathered to hear him. There must have been unnerving moments when he was arrested – when the option of violence against the Roman authorities was tested. And then of course there were huge disappointments – Judas the betrayer possibly trying to force Jesus’ hand, and Peter the broken leader who denied knowing his leader three times. And most fascinating of all – the young John Mark who escaped the clutches of the arresting authorities by wriggling out of his clothes. They were heady times.
During the term in various classroom conversations we have examined a range of situations where people have made bad decisions - often mislead by bad leaders, or threatened or bullied by the kind of people you wouldn’t vote into power. It is a sobering thought that many of us, placed in similar tough circumstances, might also have found it difficult to do the right thing. We make wrong decisions even in peacetime, never mind situations challenged by war or oppression.
The story of Easter – the Christian tradition in its customary form - is about the apparent failure of a good man and beloved leader – who seems to allow himself to be cruelly tortured and executed without offering any real defence. The God-person Jesus bears intolerable pain and suffering, a punishment undeserved and probably meted out by corrupt and selfish religious and secular leaders.
The excitement of Easter – in this same Christian tradition – surpasses the thrills of Easter egg hunts and mandatory holidays. The gloom and darkness of a failed leadership campaign, and a gruesome execution, is eclipsed by a forty day period of resurrection encounters – where followers of Jesus, up to five hundred at one time – find that he is alive again.
Easter’s themes of new life, spring (in the northern hemisphere), and fresh beginnings are hopeful and invigorating glimpses of a better world, and the victory of love over hatred, and forgiveness over resentment and bitterness.
The life and death of Jesus are inspirational. Easter is a celebration of that life and death. The resurrection brings new energy to discouraged people at every level. The same power (literally “spirit”) that raises Jesus from the dead is offered to us – transforming our frail physical and emotional lives with a new vitality and energy, an enlivening and joy-filling encounter.
We often find ourselves weary and stretched as school terms come to an end. And in our personal lives we face all manner of challenges both practically and spiritually. The hope of Easter is once again our mainstay. We have the promise that Jesus is still with us through his ever-present Holy Spirit – to strengthen us and give us peace.
May you be blessed at this Easter time with all that you need to inspire and guide you, and may you be a great leader in your field, both at home and at work or play – with followers who are inspired by you and from whom you also learn and grow.
(Written for the School Magazine before Easter)
The seasons of Lent and Easter have made me reconsider the followers of Jesus and the tough decisions they had to make. It must have been exciting when Jesus was welcomed into town like a hero. It was probably amazing when large crowds gathered to hear him. There must have been unnerving moments when he was arrested – when the option of violence against the Roman authorities was tested. And then of course there were huge disappointments – Judas the betrayer possibly trying to force Jesus’ hand, and Peter the broken leader who denied knowing his leader three times. And most fascinating of all – the young John Mark who escaped the clutches of the arresting authorities by wriggling out of his clothes. They were heady times.
During the term in various classroom conversations we have examined a range of situations where people have made bad decisions - often mislead by bad leaders, or threatened or bullied by the kind of people you wouldn’t vote into power. It is a sobering thought that many of us, placed in similar tough circumstances, might also have found it difficult to do the right thing. We make wrong decisions even in peacetime, never mind situations challenged by war or oppression.
The story of Easter – the Christian tradition in its customary form - is about the apparent failure of a good man and beloved leader – who seems to allow himself to be cruelly tortured and executed without offering any real defence. The God-person Jesus bears intolerable pain and suffering, a punishment undeserved and probably meted out by corrupt and selfish religious and secular leaders.
The excitement of Easter – in this same Christian tradition – surpasses the thrills of Easter egg hunts and mandatory holidays. The gloom and darkness of a failed leadership campaign, and a gruesome execution, is eclipsed by a forty day period of resurrection encounters – where followers of Jesus, up to five hundred at one time – find that he is alive again.
Easter’s themes of new life, spring (in the northern hemisphere), and fresh beginnings are hopeful and invigorating glimpses of a better world, and the victory of love over hatred, and forgiveness over resentment and bitterness.
The life and death of Jesus are inspirational. Easter is a celebration of that life and death. The resurrection brings new energy to discouraged people at every level. The same power (literally “spirit”) that raises Jesus from the dead is offered to us – transforming our frail physical and emotional lives with a new vitality and energy, an enlivening and joy-filling encounter.
We often find ourselves weary and stretched as school terms come to an end. And in our personal lives we face all manner of challenges both practically and spiritually. The hope of Easter is once again our mainstay. We have the promise that Jesus is still with us through his ever-present Holy Spirit – to strengthen us and give us peace.
May you be blessed at this Easter time with all that you need to inspire and guide you, and may you be a great leader in your field, both at home and at work or play – with followers who are inspired by you and from whom you also learn and grow.
(Written for the School Magazine before Easter)
Post Easter
Winter is on its way. The pleasant autumn sun today is deceptive, as the cold truth of a Wellington winter is very sobering. There have been these mean little southerly winds popping out of the meteorological woodwork.
We are in the middle of the so-called Easter break. The Easter weekend began with a typical holiday collapse of resistance to the local bugs, and necessitated a visit to the Doctor and week's supply of pills. Losing one's voice is not good for a preacher. The voice died after the Easter sunday message.
New Zealand life continues in its nondescript way. Occasional excitement is noted when particular rugby games are on. Cricket doesn't do the same, and it is unlikely that too many people can afford to go to South Africa for the Football world cup - the prices in NZD are insane. The All Whites will have to be content with an audience on line cheerfully yelling for them.
As a South African living "abroad" the current reports on the state of affairs in the old country are disturbing. I have vivid memories of our two years (and a bit) in Rustenburg, the heart of Afrikaner country. Standing in the queue to use a public phone on the corner I was amazed to see a white male attack a black man who was sitting on the pavement. I have no idea why. But it made sense that Eugene Terblanche was prepared to stand for the Rustenburg constituency in the National elections. There were plenty of enthusiasts. "ET go home" was on a poster that appeared on the streets. It seemed that there were plenty of white right wing parties there anyway who didn't want the man in black on his large horse galloping through the town.
ET is home now I suppose. One can only hope that there is no outbreak of violence. The Farmers Unions seem to be mobilising in their own way. The violence, whichever way you look at it and whatever side you take, is horrible and endless.
We have begun our 5th year here officially. It seems like we have been here forever. The connections to South Africa are still very strong, and the Palmer children have some mixed feelings about living here to say the least. In the meantime we continue to do what we do as faithfully as we can. I was reminded by an old friend by email this week that the battle is not ours, and that faithfulness to the task we know is the most important thing.
This week we will be at Foxton Beach. Not being the largest place on the coast, few will know much about it. The "Bach" - the local word for a holiday cottage - has been kindly loaned to us by a colleague Presbyterian minister. A good opportunity to recuperate and prepare for the new term. School begins on the 19th with a College chapel service - one must be prepared for these things.
The Easter message of resurrection and hope has to be foundational in our lives - may you be inspired to see things from that point of view.
As always, yours truly
Robin
We are in the middle of the so-called Easter break. The Easter weekend began with a typical holiday collapse of resistance to the local bugs, and necessitated a visit to the Doctor and week's supply of pills. Losing one's voice is not good for a preacher. The voice died after the Easter sunday message.
New Zealand life continues in its nondescript way. Occasional excitement is noted when particular rugby games are on. Cricket doesn't do the same, and it is unlikely that too many people can afford to go to South Africa for the Football world cup - the prices in NZD are insane. The All Whites will have to be content with an audience on line cheerfully yelling for them.
As a South African living "abroad" the current reports on the state of affairs in the old country are disturbing. I have vivid memories of our two years (and a bit) in Rustenburg, the heart of Afrikaner country. Standing in the queue to use a public phone on the corner I was amazed to see a white male attack a black man who was sitting on the pavement. I have no idea why. But it made sense that Eugene Terblanche was prepared to stand for the Rustenburg constituency in the National elections. There were plenty of enthusiasts. "ET go home" was on a poster that appeared on the streets. It seemed that there were plenty of white right wing parties there anyway who didn't want the man in black on his large horse galloping through the town.
ET is home now I suppose. One can only hope that there is no outbreak of violence. The Farmers Unions seem to be mobilising in their own way. The violence, whichever way you look at it and whatever side you take, is horrible and endless.
We have begun our 5th year here officially. It seems like we have been here forever. The connections to South Africa are still very strong, and the Palmer children have some mixed feelings about living here to say the least. In the meantime we continue to do what we do as faithfully as we can. I was reminded by an old friend by email this week that the battle is not ours, and that faithfulness to the task we know is the most important thing.
This week we will be at Foxton Beach. Not being the largest place on the coast, few will know much about it. The "Bach" - the local word for a holiday cottage - has been kindly loaned to us by a colleague Presbyterian minister. A good opportunity to recuperate and prepare for the new term. School begins on the 19th with a College chapel service - one must be prepared for these things.
The Easter message of resurrection and hope has to be foundational in our lives - may you be inspired to see things from that point of view.
As always, yours truly
Robin
Wednesday, 6 January 2010
New Year – New Decade
School holidays are supposed to be fun. The kiwi response is the laconic “yeah right”, an economical statement which incorporates a bit of cynicism and a realism that characterises the New Zealand way. The weather in Wellington has been shocking. Windy and miserable in the extreme, the capital city has been virtually abandoned through the high season, and rightly so. Now that work has started again in the commercial world, the roads are not that deserted as they were. My own children spent the New Year in various locations. I guess we are getting ourselves ready to some extent for the empty nest phase. There is some ambivalence in this position of course. So much of what we are and what we have done has focussed on our offspring.
I am due to begin my fifth year at the College where I work in April. A wise man I know said recently that there is probably only room for one Chaplaincy in a ministry. The word “ministry” here only makes sense for those who are ministers – pastors in the biblical sense. Most of my work has been spent in church communities – “congregations” is what we used to call them. Here the Presbyterians use the word “parish” which is a dated and outmoded word really, as the concept of parish borders has long died (together with Mr Plod and the local Vicar visiting people in a specific area on a bicycle). The four years of full time school work have been very different, driven by bells and programmes in the extreme, and the desire to please the paying people, the parents of a private school who expect results. Church work is different – the customers are volunteers - and how does one keep volunteers focussed? There are no exams, no career plans at stake, no obsession with results and image. In the local church one can only hope that vision, passion, and enthusiasm will drive people along.
The truth is that the local churches in the traditional churches in New Zealand – certainly in the Presbyterian family – seem to be fading. A brief look at the statistics recently published show many smaller congregations fading away. The most glaring absence – children. And in many cases people under 60! The kiwi way, fiercely independent, has also become seriously secular. Whatever we say about post-modern manifestations of worship, with their DIY manifestations and new definitions of traditional terms (which may in fact manifest post-Christian tendencies but at least are an attempt to be more relevant), people are not that committed to institutions, and have not been for some decades. In Presbyterian terms, people resent a top-heavy system and the paying of any kinds of fees into a centralised black hole. The denomination in which I serve is trying to refocus its mission, and restructure its regional bodies in order to face the future. The changes are not being well received as people are naturally resistant to change where no benefit is offered. Consumers….
The truth is that without a vision for reaching others with the good news, the Church will stagnate and die away. It remains one of the few, or only, organisations that exists for its “not-yet” members. And here, at the beginning of the New Year, I find myself reflecting on choices and options for my future. Should I carry on working in a place where I don’t really fit (the mandatory or obligatory and “token” Presbyterian) – or should I more into “parish” ministry again? The local church, where it works, is the most wonderful place of hope and renewal. Where it doesn’t work, the local church can be a very dreary and sad place, where people hold on too tight to what they have, not realising that the boat is in fact sinking, or the tide is rising (if they prefer a landlubber’s metaphor).
My hope in the local church has been revitalised by our membership of a local church that does work. It’s not a perfect church – there is none. But it is a place where difference is accommodated – while Jesus remains at the centre. “All Saints” is a good place to be. There is a sense of God’s presence – and expectation, and a meeting with the Divine. That openness to renewal and to the power of the Holy Spirit is key to this life. That’s what I miss in chapel at school. There are moments few and far between where there is that sense of Presence.
“Presence” has to be redefined in the context of the school where I work. My own presence, and that of other Christians, has to remind people of a different way of seeing the world. This presence can be an isolating experience, especially where one is the sole prophetic voice at times. That ministry of “presence” of course is not the pre-requisite of paid ministers. It is the ministry of the “laity” (an unfortunate term implying lack of knowledge) – the ministry of every Christian.
The new decade is a time of grace – in a sense each day is a day of grace in which we are allowed to start again. New beginnings are great – we can offload the rubbish we have collected along the way, and ask God to help us re-frame the story of our lives. I have enjoyed a brief time of Epiphany – the celebration of the light of Christ shining into the hearts of the gentiles (which incorporates most of us - unless of course you are Jewish). May we be wise to seek the child Jesus – who confounded the powerful by surrender of all that he was to become one of us.
I will wait for the Lord. Wait on the Lord if you like, but I prefer the former as it is the Lord who acts. At best we respond to His working in our lives, in prayer and in praise; in worship – in the full sense of service.
May the new decade be a new beginning of some sorts for you – perhaps the best beginning would be the risk of an invitation to God to enter your world again – to shine new light on your circumstances, your thoughts, your hopes and your dreams.
Come, Lord Jesus.
I am due to begin my fifth year at the College where I work in April. A wise man I know said recently that there is probably only room for one Chaplaincy in a ministry. The word “ministry” here only makes sense for those who are ministers – pastors in the biblical sense. Most of my work has been spent in church communities – “congregations” is what we used to call them. Here the Presbyterians use the word “parish” which is a dated and outmoded word really, as the concept of parish borders has long died (together with Mr Plod and the local Vicar visiting people in a specific area on a bicycle). The four years of full time school work have been very different, driven by bells and programmes in the extreme, and the desire to please the paying people, the parents of a private school who expect results. Church work is different – the customers are volunteers - and how does one keep volunteers focussed? There are no exams, no career plans at stake, no obsession with results and image. In the local church one can only hope that vision, passion, and enthusiasm will drive people along.
The truth is that the local churches in the traditional churches in New Zealand – certainly in the Presbyterian family – seem to be fading. A brief look at the statistics recently published show many smaller congregations fading away. The most glaring absence – children. And in many cases people under 60! The kiwi way, fiercely independent, has also become seriously secular. Whatever we say about post-modern manifestations of worship, with their DIY manifestations and new definitions of traditional terms (which may in fact manifest post-Christian tendencies but at least are an attempt to be more relevant), people are not that committed to institutions, and have not been for some decades. In Presbyterian terms, people resent a top-heavy system and the paying of any kinds of fees into a centralised black hole. The denomination in which I serve is trying to refocus its mission, and restructure its regional bodies in order to face the future. The changes are not being well received as people are naturally resistant to change where no benefit is offered. Consumers….
The truth is that without a vision for reaching others with the good news, the Church will stagnate and die away. It remains one of the few, or only, organisations that exists for its “not-yet” members. And here, at the beginning of the New Year, I find myself reflecting on choices and options for my future. Should I carry on working in a place where I don’t really fit (the mandatory or obligatory and “token” Presbyterian) – or should I more into “parish” ministry again? The local church, where it works, is the most wonderful place of hope and renewal. Where it doesn’t work, the local church can be a very dreary and sad place, where people hold on too tight to what they have, not realising that the boat is in fact sinking, or the tide is rising (if they prefer a landlubber’s metaphor).
My hope in the local church has been revitalised by our membership of a local church that does work. It’s not a perfect church – there is none. But it is a place where difference is accommodated – while Jesus remains at the centre. “All Saints” is a good place to be. There is a sense of God’s presence – and expectation, and a meeting with the Divine. That openness to renewal and to the power of the Holy Spirit is key to this life. That’s what I miss in chapel at school. There are moments few and far between where there is that sense of Presence.
“Presence” has to be redefined in the context of the school where I work. My own presence, and that of other Christians, has to remind people of a different way of seeing the world. This presence can be an isolating experience, especially where one is the sole prophetic voice at times. That ministry of “presence” of course is not the pre-requisite of paid ministers. It is the ministry of the “laity” (an unfortunate term implying lack of knowledge) – the ministry of every Christian.
The new decade is a time of grace – in a sense each day is a day of grace in which we are allowed to start again. New beginnings are great – we can offload the rubbish we have collected along the way, and ask God to help us re-frame the story of our lives. I have enjoyed a brief time of Epiphany – the celebration of the light of Christ shining into the hearts of the gentiles (which incorporates most of us - unless of course you are Jewish). May we be wise to seek the child Jesus – who confounded the powerful by surrender of all that he was to become one of us.
I will wait for the Lord. Wait on the Lord if you like, but I prefer the former as it is the Lord who acts. At best we respond to His working in our lives, in prayer and in praise; in worship – in the full sense of service.
May the new decade be a new beginning of some sorts for you – perhaps the best beginning would be the risk of an invitation to God to enter your world again – to shine new light on your circumstances, your thoughts, your hopes and your dreams.
Come, Lord Jesus.
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