hopefulimagination

The Eve of Christmas... Waiting

2011-12-24T10:48:00.001+00:00

1 Earth was waiting, spent and restless,
with a mingled hope and fear;
and the faithful few were sighing,
'surely Lord the day is near;
the desire of all the nations,
it is time He should appear.'

2 Still the gods were in their temples,
but the ancient faith had fled;
and the priests stood by their altars
only for a piece of bread;
and the oracles were silent,
and the prophets all were dead.

3 In the sacred courts of Zion,
where the Lord had his abode,
there the money-changers trafficked,
and the sheep and oxen trod;
and the world, because of wisdom,
knew not either Lord or God.

4 Then the Spirit of the Highest
on a virgin meek came down,
and He burdened her with blessing,
and He pained her with renown;
For she bare the Lord's anointed,
for His cross and for His crown.

5 Earth for Him had groaned and travailed
since the ages first began;
for in Him was hid the secret
that through all the ages ran-
Son of Mary, Son of David,
Son of God, and Son of Man.

Walter C Smith (1824-1908)
8 7 8 7 8 7 Trochaic

Copied from HymnQuest 2011

Fourth Week in Advent: Love

2011-12-22T17:09:00.004+00:00

This week's Northumbria Community readings do include some familiar mentions of love, but I am opting to share three alternative ideas that emerged from my readings and pondering.

Firstly, Proverbs 15: 16 - 17
Better a little with the fear of the LORD than great wealth with turmoil. Better a meal of vegetables where there is love than a fattened calf with hatred.

I wonder how much fake jollity has been, or will be, expressed over groaning tables this Christmas... better the soup-run with love, beans on toast with a loved one, an apple halved with a friend...

Next, Matthew 13:31 - 32
Jesus told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field. Though it is the smallest of all your seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and perch in its branches.”

If love is a (the?) defining quality of the Kingdom of God, then is love like a mustard seed or a mustard plant? Shelter, shade, security... attributes of love

Lastly Psalm 1:1 -3 and Jeremiah 17:7-8
Happy are those who do not follow the advice of the wicked, or take the path that sinners tread, or sit in the seat of scoffers; but their delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law they meditate day and night. They are like trees planted by streams of water, which yield their fruit in its season, and their leaves do not wither. In all that they do, they prosper.

Blessed are those who trust in the LORD, whose trust is the LORD. They shall be like a tree planted by water, sending out its roots by the stream. It shall not fear when heat comes, and its leaves shall stay green; in the year of drought it is not anxious, and it does not cease to bear fruit.

Love as a stream - refreshing, cleansing, invigorating, leading to flourishing and blossoming to fruitfulness.

God of love
Shelter and sustain us
Cleanse and refresh us
And may we
Share with others
The love you give us
Amen

As advent nears its end, what does it mean for us to look at the world through the lens of love? What does it mean for love to become incarnate where we are? Come, Lord Jesus, be born in us today...

Imago Dei

2011-12-21T21:14:00.001+00:00

One morning, God was staring at the wall. Not a blank wall, but not patterned either. It was a wall of chaos: bright colours, dark colours, swirling patterns, eternally dark and infinitely bright both at the same time. God wondered what could be made of the wall, so he reached out a hand and swirled the colours around. Soon order and pattern began to emerge: luscious pastoral greens coalesced, deep aqua blues combined, and this new creation seemed very pleasing to God.

After contemplating the wall for a while longer, God began to wonder what to do next, so he spoke gently to the wall, and a lustrous sheen began to appear. The wall became shiny, as if a layer of glass had been laid over the top of it. As God continued to stare at the wall, he could now see his own reflection within it. He saw himself inside his creation. When he moved his hand, the image of God waved back. When God smiled, his image smiled back. When God blew at the wall, the image blew a kiss back. God loved the image in the wall, and was happy with all that he had made.

But then something unexpected happened. The image of God reached out and punched the wall from the inside, and the shiny surface of the wall now had a flaw in it, like a stone-chip on a car windscreen. Suddenly the image of God didn’t look quite so much like God anymore: the flaw in the surface had damaged the reflection. The order that God had brought to the wall was distorted, and God was very sad. But still he stood there, staring at the wall and not turning away. Then the image hit the wall again, this time harder and angrier, as if trying to get out, trying to get at God. God flinched, but still he stared at the wall. The surface was by now crazed with cracks, and the image continued to fragment into lots of tiny, sharp fragments. God contemplated walking away from the wall, but knew that if he did so his image would vanish from the wall forever. Distorted as it was, it was still his image; it was still the image he had loved, waved at, and blown kisses to.

God wondered what to do next. And then had an idea. He took a few steps back, and threw himself violently at the wall. The force of the impact stunned him and shook the wall, and the millions of tiny sharp fragments ripped at his skin. Powered forward by the momentum of his run-up, God seemed for a moment to merge into the wall. His blood streaked the surface, and the mark of the impact was clear to see. But God himself had vanished.

After a while it was just possible to make out the faint image of God through the crazed, blood-stained, fragmented surface. God had gone into the wall. Gradually the image of God grew stronger and larger, as God walked up to the wall from the inside. He reached out his hand and carefully joined two broken shards together, and then two more, and then two more. Gradually, slowly, God began to repair the wall from within. As God repaired the wall, he looked at it very carefully, and started to see his own image reflected back.

The end.

Without warning

2011-12-19T12:56:00.002+00:00

Something I wrote for our 9 Lessons: One Story service last night at Belle Vue Baptist Church.

Without warning
no expectation
no anticipation
God speaks.
God speaks to Abraham
That he will be blessed.
This Abraham is
Without children
No reproduction
No future generation
But God speaks
God speaks you will be blessed
To be a blessing

With hope unswerving
With trust unfailing
Abraham believes.
Abraham believes
That like stars in the sky
And sand on the beach
Will his descendants be

This aged man and his wife
Past child-bearing years
Are promised a son
And the God who spoke blessing
The God who made a promise
Is faithful to his word
Is truthful to his word
A child is given
A son is born
Isaac
A one and only
A one and only and much loved
Son

Without warning
no expectation
no anticipation
God speaks.
God speaks to Abraham
Take your son, your only son
Up the mountain
and there give his life as a sacrifice.
Without reason
No explanation
No justification

Abraham does as he is told
And he takes his
One and only
One and only and much loved
Isaac
With him up the mountain

Without warning
no expectation
no anticipation
as Abraham is ready to strike
God speaks.
God speaks to Abraham
That he should refrain
And go no further
The one and only
The one and only and much loved
Son is spared

God speaks
God speaks again to Abraham
Because you have not withheld
Your one and only and much loved
Son
You will be blessed
With a family
More numerous than the stars in the sky
More numerous than the sand on the beach
You will be blessed
To be a blessing

Another child is given
Another son is born
One of Abraham's family
The Father's one and only
One and only and much loved
Son
Born to be a blessing

And God did not withhold
His one and only
But gave him up for all of us
God's love revealed:
He sent is
one and only and much loved
Son
Into the world
That we might have life
That we might be blessed
To be a blessing

Third Week in Advent: Joy

2011-12-15T10:12:00.003+00:00

My decision to follow the Northumbria Community readings during Advent has shown me, afresh, how mischievous God's spirit is... some of these readings are at best puzzling, and many of them present what I have come over the week to term 'unjoy'... the opposite of what I understand joy to be.

To me, joy is not an emotion or a feeling, it is something inner, more akin to an attitude or a state of mind, a kind of indefatigable positivity that recognises reality as it really is but refuses to be defined, constrained or restrained by it. Unlike Pollyanna's ridiculous glad game (I'm glad that bad thing happened because now....) joy has a sense of defiance (that which happened is frankly awful, but I will not allow it to destroy me) and even, I am discovering mischief.

Unjoy is manifest in bitterness, in unkindness, in lack of generosity, in resentment... as we spot hints of unjoy we seek to subvert them with joy.

One reading appeared twice this week (I am sure a transcription error... or was it divine mischief?) and, to me, illustrates how Jesus, tempted to an life of unjoy, chose instead joy in all its costly authenticity...

Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the desert, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing during those days, and at the end of them he was hungry. The devil said to him, "If you are the Son of God, tell this stone to become bread." Jesus answered, "It is written: ‘Man does not live on bread alone.’" The devil led him up to a high place and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. And he said to him, "I will give you all their authority and splendor, for it has been given to me, and I can give it to anyone I want to. So if you worship me, it will all be yours." Jesus answered, "It is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God and serve him only.’" The devil led him to Jerusalem and had him stand on the highest point of the temple. "If you are the Son of God," he said, "throw yourself down from here. For it is written: "‘He will command his angels concerning you to guard you carefully; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’" Jesus answered, "It says: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’" When the devil had finished all this tempting, he left him until an opportune time. (Luke 4: 1 - 13)

Unjoy... arising from a focus on material satisfaction, power or celebrity. I wonder what tempts us to unjoy rather than joy? I wonder what it means to look at the world through a lens of joy, spotting the hints of God's indefatigable positivity and gentle mischief?

God, grant us a fresh experience of inner joy
Remove from us the temptation to unjoy
And lead us in your mischievous path of unquenchable shalom
Amen

Hope...

2011-12-13T15:21:00.004+00:00

A few weeks ago I had a miscarriage. Not as awful as it sounds; I've been prepared for some time with the knowledge that I cannot bear children – I did my grieving long ago.

I mention it only because it did something very strange to me. It reminded me of the pain of hope. Advent hope is an oft spoken of theme; we talk of God’s people waiting for God’s promises to come true; we talk of a people waiting with expectation and hope for the time when their suffering would cease; we talk about Elizabeth and Zechariah, who were given a new hope for a child, long after they thought it was possible; we talk of the people walking in darkness who saw a great light. We talk of this wondrous feeling of hope that gets us through the dark and difficult days. Because at the end of all this waiting, there is a baby.

My own experience caused me to stop, and question for a moment. What about those for whom there isn’t a baby at the end of all the waiting? What about those waiting for that which will never come? What about those whose wait will end in bitter disappointment? Because it’s true, isn’t it, that as we celebrate the joy of Christmas, we often gloss over the bittersweet truth. The truth that for some, the lights will be taken down, the tree packed away and the wrapping recycled, and all that will be left is emptiness. The truth that the birth of Christ is a story not without tragedy, for as the baby was born, so a plot was being made to kill all the boys in Bethlehem under the age of two.

During Advent I cannot hide from the fact that at the end of my wait, there will never be a baby. Not for me. And so I think perhaps, as we work up to the joy of Christmas, I want to suggest that we don’t forget that sometimes hope is painful, hope leads to disappointment, and un-fulfilment. And perhaps sometimes it’s okay to voice that.

Counting Down the Days

2011-12-12T06:26:00.002+00:00

(From Phil Durrant)

We seem to be constantly at war with time here in the West, there’s so little of it in the day, and so few days in the ledger for our lives. At our backs we always hear, Time’s winged chariot hurrying near. We can’t decide if we love or loath it. But our obsession leads us to strap time gauges to our wrists and wave our filofaxes around as if they were the Good Book. We flood our bodies with caffeine and our environments with artificial light. Come on people! Squeeze out every drop!

I do think that if whoever it was that invented time were to show up, we’d say ‘well it’s all right for you, you’re impervious, you’re unimpeachable’, and if there was a glimmer for a split second that he weren’t, we’d rig a show trial; tick-tock his head; pin him to the clock face and nail down his hands. ‘Three, six, nine o’clock and time for bed’, we’d say. ‘Remind us of our mortality will you? Well try it on for size; try tasting the inside of a tomb’. But then time’s creator would never lay himself open to such an onslaught, surely? Never himself become vulnerable to time, to the curse of ‘your days are numbered’. Or would he? I suppose that’s what we’re waiting to find out during Advent.

But we don’t want to wait do we? That’s time wasted. And to wait is to accept we are powerless and to acknowledge our mortality. We are a breath; our days a passing shadow. And no one wants to square up to that old chestnut. Not to mention that to wait is also to accept that only God is truly powerful and eternal. For a thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it is past, or like a watch in the night. He is God and we most certainly are not.

But should we choose to force ourselves to wait, to grit our teeth and try on this discipline, perhaps we might experience God’s gracious ‘now’ which outstrips past, present, and future. Perhaps we’d experience in our persons the advent of his likeness in our members; a certain transparency to an everlasting glory.

Gaudete

2011-12-11T15:14:00.002+00:00

Gaudete in Domino semper

Today is the third Sunday of Advent, known as Gaudete Sunday in the western churches. The day marks a mid-point in the season and is, as such, a day of rejoicing. The name itself comes from the first words traditionally sung as the ministers and choir entered the church on this day ‘Gaudete in Domino semper’ or ‘Rejoice in the Lord always’.

Advent is a sombre season and one in which penitence is called for. The liturgical colour for Advent is purple. Gaudete Sunday, however, is a time of rejoicing and anticipation for the coming of the Lord. Today the colour is rose, a colour not to be used at other times during this season (this is why one of the candles in an Advent wreath is pink rather than purple).

So today the invitation changes: today, we do not simply adore ‘The Lord who is to come’ but we also rejoice and hail ‘The Lord who is now nigh and close at hand.’

The nativity story

2011-12-08T08:29:00.000+00:00

This was something I wrote for our christingle service last year. When performed we had objects to lift up whenever certain words were said.

First there was Adam and Eve
and a long while later there was Abraham
and a long while after that there was David
and a long long while after that we get to our story

There was Mary
no more than 14
in love with Joseph
who made things from wood

There was Mary
and then there was an angel
saying DO NOT BE AFRAID
God has smiled on you and
you’re going to have a baby
Mary said ‘But …’ and then ‘Ok, if you say so’

There was Mary
getting bigger by the day
and there was Joseph
who was getting more and more
suspicious
until the truth could be hidden no more
Joseph was not best pleased
until he had a dream
in which there was an angel
saying DO NOT BE AFRAID
Mary's baby is from God
and he will be the saviour of the world
When Joseph woke up
he was well pleased
and took his Mary with baby inside
to be his wife

There was Mary
no more than 14
married to Joseph
and going to have a baby
5 months, 6, months, 7 months, 8
when the news was announced
that all the people had to go
back to where they were born to be counted

There was Mary
heavy with child
and Joseph on their way to Bethlehem
Mary was read to give birth
when they arrived
but there was no where to stay
apart from a stable

There was Mary
no more than 14
There was Joseph
who made things from wood
and then there was also Jesus
born in the night
and put to bed in an invented cot

There were shepherds
with their sheep
on a hillside
out in the cold night
and there was suddenly another angel
saying DO NOT BE AFRAID
great news to tell
a baby is born
who will save the world
and there were suddenly more angels
and they were all singing
happy songs of joy

There were shepherds
running down the hillside
all the way to Bethlehem
and found the baby
the little child Jesus
and crying he did make

There were wise men
who gazed at the stars
and one day spotted a bright one
which they followed
many miles by camel.
When finally the star stopped
and so they did too
and there they found
Mary
no more than 14
and very tired
with Joseph
who made things from wood
also very tired
with Jesus
who was very much awake

There were wise men
with gifts
gold for a king
frankincense - maybe to cover the smell
for we all know what babies do
and myrrh
a strange gift that one
not one you would expect
not one you or I would think to give
but it was used some years later
but that's another story
for another day

There was Mary
no more than 14
and Joseph
who made things from wood
and there were shepherds
and their sheep
and there were wise men
with presents to give
and there was Jesus
born in the night
a miracle of God
sent from above
to bring us God's love

Second Week in Advent - Peace

2011-12-07T09:32:00.005+00:00

Using the Northumbria Community readings and looking for hints and glimpses that pertain to peace has not been easy, not least as we are treated to some that most erotic (or is it metaphorical?) scripture in the Song of Songs. Peace is an elusive quality it seems, and I have found the need to hunt quite hard to get anything more than the most trite or twee of connections. However, here are the three texts that I have found most helpful so far, see what you make of them!

In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. (Mark 1: 35)

"In your anger do not sin": Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry... Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. (Ephesians 4: 26; 32)

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand. When I awake, I am still with you. Psalm 139: 13 - 18

What does it mean for us to read scripture through the lens of peace? What does it mean for us to view our world through the same lens?

Give peace in our minds, Oh Lord,
Give peace in our hearts, Oh Lord,
Give peace in our world, Oh Lord,
Amen

singing salvation songs

2011-12-05T08:00:00.001+00:00

Most of the country at the moment seems caught by the song Wherever You Are sung by the Military Wives Choir. Its testimony to the power of music and of song to connect with our souls – songs get inside us more than any other kind of speech … the oft repeated saying is that people learn what they think about God from their hymns and not the sermons they listen to. There is something about human beings that needs to make music, something that insists on song.

At the centre of our two readings this mornings are two songs, sung also by women – two women in response to the grace of God … Hannah sings in response of the gift of Samuel, Mary sings in response to the gift who will be Jesus …

... Hannah and Mary sing about a new God-transforming world that will unsettle … Israel are also good at the protest song, songs that sing about justice and politics … These women are not pristine, meek and mild … no Hannah and Mary are feisty, stubborn and unashamed, they are gospel singers … singers of God’s good news … they are singers of a deep and dangerous hope that God – the Mighty One, the Rock, the Holy Incomparable Untameable God of Israel who will not be opposed, who is faithful to the promises made to Abraham – this God is acting to save, to judge and make right all of creation … now that is something to sing about …

As Walter Bruggemann writes 'when people can no longer believe the promises of the rulers of this age, when the gifts of well-being are no longer given through the established channels, these songs voice an alternative to which the desperate faithful cling' (1 and 2 Samuel, WJK, 1990) … God is on the move … Mary’s song sets the whole tone for Luke’s gospel … we see this song made concrete in the words and actions of Jesus … this is a song that is both a promise of God who is acting, and a call to respond (HT to Maggi Dawn's Beginnings and Endings, BRF 2007) … Jesus is that promise and response, and for those of us who call him Lord, we receive both the promise that God is making the world right and at the same time the call to be those who live as those who are part of that new world … the first words of Jesus’ ministry pick up the song of his mother in the words of Isaiah 61 …

These songs are salvations songs, songs that re-imagine the world, songs that redefine our vision of life … in God’s world the poor are lifted high, the hungry are blessed … and these are our songs … the question then is what does it mean for us to sing them?

Hannah and Mary are our Advent voices, they are singing to us and how will we respond? … will we say, thanks Hannah and Mary a nice sentiment, a wonderful dream, but come on be real … will we say, Hannah and Mary I’m not sure its appropriate singing about God and singing about politics … will we say Hannah and Mary, its great you’re singing this song, but it’s a bit risky, a bit dangerous to be singing songs like that, so we wish you well … or will we say Hannah and Mary, is there a part for me, can you help me learn this song, I can’t keep silent any longer, let us sing salvation songs together …

Bread of Life

2011-12-04T10:01:00.001+00:00

Often when I was younger, many of our church youth leaders would tell us that ‘if Jesus had lived today, he would have had the last supper with a Big Mac and a Coke.’ I can understand why they may have said this, to reinforce the transformation of the mundane into the holy. But I wish they hadn’t.

There are, of course, many problems with the image of a ‘McEucharist’, but I want to take particular issue with the idea of the Eucharist as ‘fast food’.

It is easy to think of bread as a fast food in our culture. Bread is often a mass-produced, long-life commodity which we buy in and consume largely as a useful container for whatever lies between two slices. We don’t think about the bread much, it’s just always there.

Recently, though, I have started to play around with making my own bread. One thing which instantly struck me about the process is that it takes a lot of time. It’s not like baking a cake, where you mix some stuff up, and pop it in the oven. To make bread, you have to mix, knead (beat it about for 10-15 minutes) and then… wait.

To get a good loaf of bread takes time. You have to wait for the dough to rise. Then you knock all the air out and let it rise again. You may even knock it back and let it rise once more before you put it in the oven to cook. Even using fast-action yeast, you’re looking at at least 2 hours of waiting where you are not doing anything else at all. If you make sourdough (I haven’t yet!) it could be some days between you starting out and getting your first loaf.

I don’t make my own bread anything like every day – I don’t have time (or so I say). But I have learned something. The bread I do make is so much nicer than any I buy in Sainsbury’s. It’s more flavoursome and has more body to it. Good things, they say, come to those who wait.

Which brings us back to Advent, and to Jesus, who we remember through the breaking of bread, and who called himself the ‘bread of life’. All of that, though, comes later. Because in Advent, we wait for a while as we hope that the dough will rise…

Waiting as a way of life

2011-12-02T08:56:00.001+00:00

(From Miriam Pugh)

Life in our village in the mountains of northern Tanzania is all about waiting. Most fundamentally, we wait for our visitors to sit in silence before we greet lest they should feel rushed and unwelcome in our houses. We wait for the food to be prepared and eaten together before we can take our leave in a house we visit. We wait for the rains before we can plough; we wait for the donkeys to complete their trek up the mountain before we can drink. We wait for the groom before the weddings can start, we wait for the village before meetings begin. We wait and begin to learn the discipling of just sitting, just being with people. Asla'am, asla'am naemamit - slowly does it, and you will achieve much.

Why wait?

In instant societies where a meal can be conveniently prepared in three minutes, and an entire weeks shop ordered on line in ten or fifteen, waiting is an inconvenience. Making someone else wait is the height of rudeness and shows real lack of consideration. Time is money.

But what if...what if waiting had a value in and of itself? What if learning to wait allowed a still peace to settle on your soul? What if waiting helped you develop ears to listen to the world around you? What if you had to wait so long on a regular basis that you found beyond the cultural pain threshhold of waiting, a suprisingly good thing was waiting for you?

Isaiah tells us that those who wait on God will renew their strength. Waiting on God brings us strength and expresses our dependence on him. Waiting on God can fill us with peace-that-passes-understanding as we know the one we are waiting on is completely faithful. Waiting on God means that we cannot and do not have to be the solution to all our problems. Waiting on God takes the focus away from busy tasks and towards the Giver of all life and love and truth.

Let us wait for Christ, our Messiah with a thirsty soul and a humble heart, knowing that He is the answer and we are not. Let us be ready to wait for a long time... and in the waiting find the peace that passes all our understanding.

Exhausted from sorrow

2011-12-01T08:28:00.001+00:00

(by David Kerrigan)

On Friday morning last week our staff met for prayer, this time led by our mission department. I was tired, and I had a huge amount to do, but I went. I didn’t seriously consider not going but I know the difference between “I ought to go” and “I really want to go.” This was an ought, but don’t tell anyone!

Least of all Sarah, who had organised different stations around the room, with verses that picked up on the prayers of Jesus in Luke’s gospel. We were encouraged to spend the time quietly and move around the different parts of the room. I went to the first one, sat down and read these words: “When he rose from prayer and went back to the disciples, he found them asleep, exhausted from sorrow.” (Luke 22:45) I didn’t move on. This was where I needed to be.

Now, this is the advent season, so why am I taking us to the scenes that belong more to Holy Week? Well, let’s make a connection. You see, I had never ‘seen’ those words before. Of course, I have read this passage many times. I know the story well, and I knew they fell asleep because they couldn’t stay awake. But I had never seen that they were exhausted from sorrow.

Fast forward a couple of millennia, and arguably much of the world today is what the disciples were then – exhausted from sorrow. That may not be your experience, but it is the experience of many who long to live their lives in peace and tranquillity, with a reasonable dollop of hope, yet circumstances mean they cannot do so.

They long to live in such a way that they feel secure, that their kids can get a half-decent education, or see a doctor reasonably easy when they’re sick. They long to see jobs out there that their children can aim for. They’re fearful lest their pension, if they have one at all, isn't enough to live on.

They want to know how they can be free from the sin that niggles away from their conscience and the despair that sucks the joy out of their very marrow.

They may want to know what life is about, and given half the chance they may even want to know if there is a God at all, let alone one that loves them.

And that’s the link to Advent because the primary response to these feelings, yearnings, hopes and frustrations is not a philosophy, and certainly not a political agenda nor a development programme.

The answer is a person, one who enters the human story the way we enter the story, as a babe. And the significance is that from that starting point as an infant he embodies (good word in this context) all our stories.

So if we want to know how to start, then start at Christmas for it’s the part of the divine story that almost all people understand. That’s why Carol services and once-in-a-year church attendance are OK. People come – drawn by something they can’t quite name.

Ordinary people. Exhausted people. People exhausted from sorrow.

First Week in Advent.... Hope

2011-11-30T08:10:00.004+00:00

This year I have set myself a challenge for Advent... to read the scriptures for each day listed in the Northumbria Community order for morning prayer and to seek within them a glimpse of the 'attribute' for the week and to post them on my own blog. The first week in Advent is 'hope'.

Rather than repeat my reflections here, I have chosen simply to repeat some texts that have struck me, and to offer them for you own consideration. What hints, glimpses of hope do you see?

"I will give you the treasures of darkness, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the LORD, the God of Israel, who summons you by name." Isaiah 45:3

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit herself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. Romans 8:26 (emended)

"Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me." Isaiah 49: 15 - 16

What does it mean for us to read scripture through the lens of hope? What does it mean for us to view our world through the same lens?

Lord of all hopefulness, Lord of all joy... be there in our living and give us, we pray, your peace in our hearts, Lord, through all of our days. Amen

Happy Advent 2011

2011-11-27T08:50:00.001+00:00

Today is advent Sunday. So I'd like to wish a happy new year to all my readers. Here's what I have just posted at my blog

Advent is the beginning of the Christian year year because it's the time when we get ready for the coming of Jesus, bringer of the Kingdom of God

There's a great post on a blog I hadn't come across before but will be checking out now. You can find it here. It's by an American writer and reflects on whose calendar we live our lives by - Caesar's or God's? The Christian calendar reminds us that we live our lives by a different story, the story of the coming of our king, his crucifixion and call to live our ordinary time as his disciples rather than as followers of some other value system.

I have often pondered shifting our church year from the three-term academic treadmill we currently follow to the ebb and flow of Christian year, beginning today with a period of reflection and preparation before the celebrations of Christmas, proclaiming through our programme the Lord whose values shape our lives.

Advent gives shape to the longing for change we see all around us at the moment - in the occupy movement, in the conversations with people talking about their daily struggles, in the dreaming of young people for a life that matters. Advent is the time when we reflect on what life is about and how God has promised to come and deliver us from the sins and chains that prevent us from experiencing lives of justice and hope.

Advent reminds us that God has heard and seen, that he is responding to the cries of his people by sending a saviour, a redeemer, a liberator, one who will fulfil the great prophetic hope that God will come to set things right. Advent reminds us that there is an alternative that flows from the heart of our creating, coming God.

And for Christians, advent gives shape to the story we live by, a story dreamed in the heart of God and told in a baby in Bethlehem; a story embodied and articulated in the life and teaching of Jesus; a story realised through the cross that breaks the power of injustice and inequity and in the resurrection that announces new creation starts here: see, says your God, I am making all things new.

As we mark advent, we are preparing ourselves to be part of that game-changing story. What a great to start the year.

Thank You!

2011-01-01T14:11:00.002+00:00

Can I usurp my position as a mere contributor and thank Andy for organising what I feel has been the best set of reflections yet? Somehow we seem to have found a new depth and breadth which has been inspiring, encouraging, challenging and uplifting. It is good to know that people with Hopeful Imaginations are alive and well and blessing the churches.

Blessings one and all for 2011

Pause for Thought - Radio 2

2010-12-25T06:30:00.025+00:00

This is Simon Woodman's Pause for Thought from today's Roger Royle programme on Radio 2. Reproduced on the Hopeful Imagination blog with kind permission from the BBC. You can listen again here, 30 minutes into the show.

Good morning, and happy Christmas.

It’s a strange day, Christmas day, isn’t it? I mean, at one level it’s a day like any other, falling rather predictably between the 24th and 26th days of the 12th month. But at another level it’s a day like no other.

We’ve been building up to it for weeks, months even, and the sense of anticipation has been mounting inexorably. From garish grottos in garden centres, to cheesy canned Christmas music round every corner, there has been no escaping the increasingly imminent arrival of Christmas day itself.

And now it’s here, it’s arrived. So happy Christmas.

And what, I wonder, will today hold? Giving? Receiving?; Eating? Drinking?; Family? Loneliness?; Happiness? Sadness? For each of us, today will bring a unique mixture of emotions and activities. But then, as quickly as it began, it’ll all be over. The day passes, and we wonder where on earth it went.

And also, we might wonder, what on earth it meant? Dinah Washington famously sang ‘What a difference a day makes’, and we might well ask this as a question of Christmas day. Just what difference does this one day make?

Within the Christian tradition, Christmas is a day of celebration, but it’s also a day of remembrance. It points back in time to another day, long past, when a young woman gave birth to a child. Just another day, just another birth. And yet Christians believe that that day, that that birth, in some way changed everything. The birth-day of Jesus, one moment in history, one day among many, is celebrated as the moment history changed, the moment God became human.

The Canadian singer Bruce Cockburn puts it beautifully in his song Cry of a tiny babe: Like a stone on the surface of a still river, Driving the ripples on forever, Redemption rips through the surface of time in the cry of a tiny babe.

So, as I said, happy Christmas.

Christmas Eve

2010-12-24T12:02:00.002+00:00

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old familiar carols play.
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of Peace on earth, good will to men.

Peace on earth, good will to men.

I thought how as the day had come
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of Peace on earth, good will to men.

Peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair, I bowed my head:
'There is no peace on earth,' I said,
'For hate is strong and mocks the song,
Of Peace on earth, good will to men.'

Peace on earth, good will to men.

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep;
'God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
With Peace on earth, good will to men'.

Peace on earth, good will to men.

For so long now my default “go to” carol over advent has been “O come o come Emmanuel”. I’ve appreciated its element of lament, the great theology in it, the cry of the hurting human heart “O come!”, and the reply of heaven, “Rejoice, Emmanuel shall come”.

However, just recently I’ve been turning to this HW Longfellow poem that has been set to a variety of tunes, but I first encountered performed by John Gorka.

Longfellow wrote this on Christmas Day 1864, a few years after the tragic death of his much beloved wife, Frances, and a few months after the terrible maiming of his son, Charles, who fought in the American civil war.

On first reading it can seem quite simplistic, with its pithy response that the wrong shall fail and the right prevail. That sounds a lot like the kind of things I tell my five year old son, to reassure him, to shelter him from the harsher realities of life as it’s experienced.

And yet, as simple as it sounds, it’s the truth. And for Longfellow, writing in the midst of pain and loss, it speaks of the hope that we’re looking forward to receiving afresh at Christmas, even though sometimes we receive that hope as if from a distance. It’s a declaration of faith. It’s part of the meaning and message that we’re celebrating tomorrow.

Because of this baby, justice will be done; because of this baby, peace becomes a possibility; because even though this baby gently sleeps, God never sleeps.

This Christmas eve, we’re waiting. Waiting for news, waiting for the celebration, waiting for it all to be over, waiting to finish work finally, waiting to see friends, waiting to see if we can make it through, waiting for a clear sound from a pealing bell that will preach the message again. God is not dead, nor doth he sleep.

However this waiting day finds you, I pray that when you hear the bells, you’ll hear the angel afresh, Peace on earth, good will to all people.

Another Kind of Waiting

2010-12-23T07:50:00.000+00:00

“When angry, count to 10 before you speak.”

“Think before you speak.”

“Look before you leap.”

Wise words from wise people: stop and think before you act, perhaps to prevent an action which you might regret. My favourite ‘stop and think’ advice has to be “Before you criticise someone, try walking a mile in their shoes. That way you'll be a mile away and have their shoes!”

Advent is a powerful time for reminding us what we are waiting for. But as these sayings remind us, there are more reasons to wait than just waiting for something; sometimes we wait because of something, holding back from something... “Before you set out just check the forecast will you?” This might only involve waiting a minute, or even ten seconds – just to make sure we’re not making a mistake. This waiting is just long enough to show us that everything might not be as it seemed, and allows us to act from a more thought through or informed position.

We find Joseph receiving his own ‘wait a minute’ call in Matthew:

When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, "Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins." (2.18b-21)

In general the sayings collected above are good common sense advice that might be plastered round any anger-management course or self-help manual, but Joseph could have followed every good piece of advice given on prudence and would probably still have resolved to dismiss his pregnant fiancée. The angel’s words however are tailored just for this man whose world has just taken a battering. Joseph was asked to hear a higher perspective on what was happening to him, to stay from his course of action: “stop, wait, know what God is doing.” For Joseph it was an angel, for others it has been different. For me it has been scripture, the preacher, the songwriter, the friend or the silence, all of them carrying the voice of Christ. It is Christ who knows our hearts and our ways.

Anyone can ask us to stop and think, but only those with an extra perspective on our lives will be able to tell us why. Advent reminds us, as we consider both Jesus’ coming and return, that God indeed has that all-embracing perspective. In Advent we hear the voice of the one who is the beginning and the end – might that voice, this Advent, be saying ‘wait a minute!’?

A perilous journey

2010-12-22T00:01:00.004+00:00

“The call of God is essentially a question to which you need to respond, expose yourself, and kneel before. You don't want an answer you can put in a box. You want a question that will become a chariot to carry you across the breadth of your life.” (Greg Levoy, Callings)

This is all Van Div-s’ idea. With all the wide-eyed enthusiasm of the newly initiated priest he had suggested this preposterous journey. The signs were clear enough – of that we were all pretty sure – but most of our seniors were too settled to feel the need to do anything about it. I can’t say that I blame them. Most of them are on a pretty good package for the rest of their days, barring major political upset, that is.

Characteristically it was Van who volunteered to investigate. We’d only just finished poring over the charts, consulting the scriptorium, and deliberating as to the significance of this strange conjunction of the heavenly bodies. The land of the Jews was fabled and the possibility of a new king arising among their people was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. ‘Too good to be missed!’ he had assured us.

I have to say that his speech to the Counsel of the Wise was a bit stellar in itself. It sparkled with wit and passion and secured the much needed patronage, protection, and funds for the journey. I guess the two of us weren’t thrilled with the idea that he should get all the glory for himself and although we made a show of pretending we needed persuading, he probably suspected we were interested in the same things he was: fame and glory!

In the private chambers he’d urged us to consider. Phrases come to mind even now: ‘A bit of an adventure! Every new ruler needs wise counselors!’ ‘’Even if we come home it’s got to look good on our Records of Service.’ After fifteen minutes we feigned our reluctant agreement and drank to the idea. We were set. The three of us made preparations and readied ourselves to leave after the allotted two weeks.

Strangely, the journey’s provided time to reflect on why we were foolish enough to actually believe that this would lead to anything at all. None of us had actually considered that we and the Counsel might have been wrong. Sure, we’ve enjoyed one too many nights over a pitcher of wine during which we’ve smiled and laughed at the brass-necked nature of what we thought we could achieve, but I’ll be very relieved to get back home safe and in one piece.

A frosty, arguably menacing, audience with King Herod didn’t reassure me much, other than by providing us with a possible location to check out. Herod’s infamy is commonly reported throughout the civilized world and it’s clear to me now that the possibility of serving as counsel to a potential rival is not going to be a long-term career move in this part of the Roman Empire. So, we’re heading to Bethlehem with just two more days’ to go and I can’t say I’ll be sorry to get back to the Star-temple once we’ve delivered the Respect of the Counsel: their gold, frankincense and myrrh.

Still, I can’t help wondering what we’re going to learn after all of this. Far from fame and fortune I suspect we’ll be lucky to make it into the text of even one of the minor annals, although I hope it’s going to add to our repository of wisdom and stature. The one thing I can begin to draw from it, even now, is the compelling nature of our dreams and ambitions. They can readily grow into a call; something stamped upon our lives that can stay with us for a very long time indeed. The parting advice from the Counsel elders as we left was something in this vein. Something about ‘Remain alert to what you may hear in your dreams. The stars only point to the story, the story is always more than the stars.’ Not a bad piece of advice, I suppose. It may yet come in useful.

(Darrell Jackson)

Do our neighbours see what the shepherds saw?

2010-12-21T12:29:00.001+00:00

I'm trying to work things out
I'm trying to comprehend:
am I the chance result of some great accident?
I hear a rhythm call me,
the echo of a grand design;
I spend each night in the backyard staring up at the stars in the sky:
maybe this was made for me,
for lying on my back in the middle of a field;
maybe that's a selfish thought
or maybe there's a loving God.
Maybe I was made this way
to think and to reason and to question and to pray
and I have never prayed a lot
But maybe there's a loving God...

Life’s full of maybes, some more mundane than the ones Sara Groves sings about: maybe we’ll make ends meet next month; maybe I’ll get that promotion at work; maybe my child will make more friends at school next term; maybe life’ll be better next year…
We’re living through trying times, symbolised by snow-bound Britain making getting about so tiresome. Shrinking incomes, rising prices, job insecurity, a general feeling of uncertainty and malaise leave us feeling we could use some good news.

Like the shepherds: slumbering, star-gazing, shivering, stoical; suddenly roused by choirs of angels and a startling message. I wonder if they got it. We read Luke’s account like good Bible students picking up the echoes of Isaiah, allusions to past stories. But did the shepherds get it as they shambled down the hill into the town looking for the bizarre sign the angel told them to look out for: a baby in a feeding trough?
It was all too unbelievable for words. And yet, they went. Maybe what drew them was the thought that if a baby had been born, there’d be a party going on; there’d be free food and drink and a warm room to gather in for a while. And probably when they arrived at the house, it was teeming with people: relatives crammed in because of the census, neighbours invited to wet the baby’s head, curious on-lookers.

Babies are always good news; they might turn our lives upside down, but they also fill them with joy – even though we know that they are another mouth to feed when the taxes are high and work is hard to find (is that what Joseph felt?).

But this one was particularly good news; this one would bring unimaginable change to the lives of his family, to the neighbours peering into the manger, to the shepherds shambling down the back streets, to the magi setting off from their palaces in the East, to Herod fearfully hanging on to power in near-by Jerusalem, even to Caesar, oblivious to events so far from Rome, who had sent this family on their perilous journey to this birth in the first place.
Everyone’s affected; life will never be the same. This child is the one that Isaiah spoke about: ‘For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace…The Spirit of the Lord will rest on him—the Spirit of wisdom and of understanding, the Spirit of counsel and of might, the Spirit of the knowledge and fear of the Lord— and he will delight in the fear of the Lord. He will not judge by what he sees with his eyes, or decide by what he hears with his ears; but with righteousness he will judge the needy, with justice he will give decisions for the poor of the earth' (9:6; 11:2-4).

Did the shepherds see this? Probably not; not fully, anyway. But they felt warm and filled and included. The neighbours had come because of the screaming – first Mary’s then Jesus’ (whatever Away in the Manger says!) – but the shepherds came because angels summoned them; God invited them to celebrate the birth of his Son. They could fill in the details when Luke published his book.

Often we live through events that we can only make sense of later. This morning someone described the 7/7 inquest as the first opportunity to create a continuous narrative of that momentous morning. The gospels are the first continuous narrative of the Christmas story that was experienced by participants in bits and pieces and whose significance was debated and chewed over for days and weeks afterwards.

And our friends and neighbours who shamble through their Christmas celebration, holding on to traditions that are part Christian, part family, part consumerist, do they get it? Probably not; not the first time we tell them or the second or the fifteenth…

But we keep inviting them because this is good news; because God really does like them and look on them with favour – however they choose to celebrate this day; because this child is for them as for the shepherds. And we, like the angels, are sent with the good news of Jesus’ birth to summon them to wonder and possibly even worship.
As Sara Groves sings:

Maybe I was made this way
to think and to reason and to question and to pray;
and I have never prayed a lot;
but maybe there's a loving God...

Continuing the theme of Mary...

2010-12-20T11:05:00.004+00:00

Yesterday morning heralded adverse conditions. Two significant snowfalls in quick succession on Saturday left our congregation with an early morning decision to be made: enjoy a relaxing, leisurely time in warm homes or venture out to church in the sub-zero temperatures. Understandably those with impassable roads or a legitimate fear of the adverse weather rightly stayed at home (or to use Black Country speak ‘stopped in’). However the effort made by many to “be in the Lord’s house on the Lord’s day” was commendable and there was a lovely spirit of teamwork and collaboration: people accompanying others and arriving on foot together, offers of lifts for the elderly, others on hand to shovel the snow from the church pathway, extra mince pies for afterwards.

Our service focused on Mary, the bearer of God’s son. We reflected on the adverse conditions that were encountered in Bethlehem. Probably no snowfall when Christ was born, but the fear of being a young Jewish girl living under Roman occupation during times of mistreatment, poverty and injustice. Despite this, Mary overcame her anxiety. She knew how to say ‘Yes’ to God even though the future was not yet clear to her and she knew very little detail of what was to come. This young girl’s initial stuttering confidence in God became complete openness to be used for divine purposes, ‘may it be to me as you have said’ she replied to Gabriel.

Mary was as human as we are. Along with other young girls in her day she was perhaps not viewed very favourably by others with more authority and control in her culture, and yet she was captivated by God’s kingdom, of a world put right by God. So she responds with faith-inspired protest:

‘he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts'
‘he has brought down rulers from their thrones’
‘he has lifted up the humble, filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty’

Not at all easy for a young teenage girl under foreign occupation to have such audacious confidence, yet her faith in God enabled her to see beyond the adverse conditions surrounding her and to imagine life lived under the kingdom of God.

During our service we also watched a presentation related to the words of a song called ‘Labour of Love’ – reminding us of Mary’s condition. In a gentle way this song gives us some reality of the adverse conditions into which her son, our Saviour, was born. Here's the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gYjYi4tYvXU

Faith and obedience in the midst of adversity. May it be so for all who struggle this Christmas.

Poor Mary Sits A-weeping?

2010-12-19T06:00:00.004+00:00

Advent 4: the Sunday that liturgically ought to see us focussing our thoughts on Mary the mother of Jesus. But come to most Protestant Nonconformist churches and we will be doing other things. Good things, great things even – the Sunday School Nativity, the Community Carol Service, the pensioner's party, the outreach event... But Mary will do well to get a bit-part in the day and may be ignored completely. So does she "sit a-weeping" as we carry on our own way?

Poor Mary! In some churches she is forced to become a plaster saint, eternally perfect, perpetually young and, of course, ever virgin. In other churches she isn't even given house room; prophets are listened to, the Baptiser is feared, but Mary finds herself overlooked or avoided, maybe a young woman pregnant outside wedlock is a step too far. Poor Mary indeed.

Authenticity and acceptability: two things that Mary seems to be denied. All of which makes me think about our own churches and who might be the weeping Marys this Advent.

Who is it, male or female, young or old, who we ignore, overlook or push out in all the busyness of our services? In our doing of much that is good, who is it we inadvertently bruise? Who stays home because it is all too painful? Who is weeping on the inside even they are smiling on the outside? Are our churches places where people can be truly authentic and still be accepted?

The playground song has its Mary weeping for a playmate – someone with whom she can be authentic and still be accepted; someone who will share the lows and highs. Someone who will be there with and for her when she finds herself overlooked or marginalised. Who might be that playmate for us in our own 'Maryness' and to whom might we offer the acceptance they so desperately need?

When the Mary of the song finds her playmate everyone is happy. When Mary the mother of Jesus encountered an angel, she was declared blessed, in Greek makarios, which can also be translated happy.

Can we be messengers of blessing, of true happiness, to the 'Marys' we meet this Advent, accepting them as they are in their raw authenticity? I dare to imagine, hopefully, that we might.

Postscript

Among the Hopeful Imaginers I know in the 'real world' are some who have had a very tough year; those with eyes to see may have spotted the hints in their posts. Some have faced personal or family problems and some have seen their churches struck by tragedy or ignominy; each has maintained their authenticity and their acceptance of others as well as their ability to imagine hopefully. I am glad, in whatever measure, to count them among my playmates, and to pray that they may dance with other 'Marys' in the ceilidh of God's Shalom and so find blessing indeed.

How Shall This Be?

2010-12-18T10:10:00.002+00:00

‘How will this be?’ asked Mary when Gabriel announced that she would give birth to Jesus. ‘How will this be? I’m a virgin.’

It was a good question. After all, true faith isn’t, as a child is reported to have said, believing in things you know aren’t true. One of the main arguments perpetuated by the modern atheist lobby is that believers are simple people, believing superstitious nonsense, whilst they just look at the world as it is.

That wasn’t Mary’s faith. She might only have been 12 or 13, from, Nazareth, a bit of a backwater town. Chances are she was uneducated, illiterate even. But she wasn’t gullible. She knew where babies came from - and she’d not been there. She knew what she’d just been told didn’t make a huge amount of sense. But she’s not afraid to ask the question. For Mary, belief in God didn’t mean leaving her brains at the door.

So often in churches we don’t really offer space for questions. Some churches quite explicitly condemn it. Others are more subtle. Early in my ministry someone wiser than me, warned me against referring to ‘what God has given me today’ because it can suggest that ‘God’s given it, so don’t you question it.’ Even the lecture style set up of our worship can create that kind of impression.

But Mary asks a good question and isn’t chastised for doing so. But nor is her question utterly sceptical. Her questions isn’t ‘how can this be?’, but ‘how shall it be?’ There’s a sense of ‘ok, I believe you, now show me how that works.’

It’s a really good question for the Advent season. We are people, like the Jews of Mary’s day, with a promise that has not yet been fulfilled. We have that great Revelation promise that ‘he will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be more death, or mourning, or crying, or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. I am making everything new.’

And we might ask the question... how will this happen... after all, this person’s cancer continues to spread, these two people haven’t spoken in years, nobody’s taking on new staff these days... you fill in the blank. When millions of people across our globe have no access to medication, how will that happen?

Mary isn’t left completely without evidence. Some of it is within her, in the Holy Spirit overshadowing her. Some of it is external - why else would she go dashing off to see Elizabeth - she wants to know if it’s true.

And before all that she is offered a reason, a why it will happen. Which on the face of it is no reason at all. Because she is favoured and God is with her. The word for favour is the same word as the word for grace.

Why do we believe God will keep his promise? Because God is good, God is gracious. When we ask how will it happen, we can’t see it because we look at ourselves and realise our own inability to bring it about. And God says ‘that’s hardly the point - it happens because of grace.’

Ultimately she is left with one proposition she has to accept - that nothing is impossible with God. At Advent I can name the reasons why on the face of it God can’t keep his promise and we’re not chastised for doing so, but because of Jesus we can say ‘ok I believe you, now show me how that works.’ And we can ask that because nothing is impossible with God.