A thought experiment: if you are someone who holds the conviction, as I do, that Jesus is the Son of God, the Risen Saviour of the world - the eternal foundation and embodiment of all truth, and the ultimate meaning of all existence - if you believe that, then try this. Try imagining for a moment that Jesus was 'merely' a wonderful ethical teacher with a beautiful manifesto for social and personal transformation through the power of self-giving love. Just live with that possibility for a few minutes.
Then ask yourself: if I knew the latter to be the whole truth, would I still follow Jesus? Then add that thought-space, to your previously-held convictions about Jesus' divinity.
I just did this, in a manner of speaking, although I didn't intend to - it just happened while I was reading a book and thinking. But the more I think about it, there is something powerful about it. It was terrifying to temporarily lay aside my cosmic convictions, even for a moment. But I found when I took them back up again, having considered the sheer impact of this man's humanity - his very magnetism - that the sacrifice only enriched my devotion to him as God.
Jesus said: 'For this reason that Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again'
St Paul riffed on this:
Christ Jesus,
who though he was in the form of God
did not consider equality with God
something to be exploited;
but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave
And being found in human form
he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death -
even death on a cross
Therefore God also exalted him
and gave him the name that is above every name,
so that at the name of Jesus
every knee should bend,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth
and every tongue should confess
that Jesus Christ is Lord
to the glory of God the Father.
The implications of this seem to me to be pretty game-changing.
Having tried the above, then perhaps extend this thinking to others around meet. What if you were to momentarily lay aside your deeply held convictions about them, and simply love them for their humanity? To see them as they are: a rebellious, tear-stained, blundering, beautiful child, just like me.
What then, if you were add that love to the deep and true conviction that each is none other than a rebellious, tear-stained, blundering, beautiful child of the Most High God?
Would you love them more, or less?
Wednesday 22 January 2014
Friday 17 January 2014
Reflections at the Turn of the Year
Hi folks
Here's another update on where things are at for me and my family at this particular juncture. This is in part a debt of thanks to those who support us financially, and in prayer and service. You know who you are - we are so grateful and humbled.
Bairns
The second half of 2013 went by in a flash. Thanks to a gift of money from Hannah's brother Matt, we were able to have a summer holiday: a week near Truro Cornwall. It was such a precious time to get away and just be: our first ever holiday just as a family of three!
Of course we didn't stay a family of three for much longer: Amy Cecilia Marguerite was born on the 19th September! And a wonderful wee thing she is too :) We were so blessed that Anne, a dear friend from church came and watched Aidan while I took Hannah to the little maternity hospital at Paulton, a few miles from Bath. Amy arrived in only a couple of hours, and we were home in time for breakfast. Hannah was magnificently brave and beautiful. (Unfortunately low weight gain put Hannah and Amy into the RUH in Bath a week later to be stuffed full of milk - a drag, but quickly forgotten.)
Aidan is thrilled to have a little sister, though it has taken a while for him to adjust to sharing Mummy and Daddy.
I can't believe we have two kids. I still pinch myself most days. If I dwell on this awesome reality, the responsibility is just too overwhelming, so I try to just do it instead of think about it.
Having a toddler and a newborn has been immensely hard work. Still, it is getting a little easier day by day. Church has been a wonderful support, as have both sets of grandparents and assorted family members, and the grace of God sustains us.
Frome Sweet Frome
The house we were living in in Bath was just what we needed for our first year, but it had damp problems, and eventually we got sick of waking up to the slugs on the kitchen walls, so we spend Amy's first few weeks house-hunting. Priced out of the rental market in el posho Bath, we explored outlying areas like Keynsham and Peasedown, but eventually settled a little further afield on Frome in Somerset - a wonderfully quirky, arty-yet-slightly-grubby market town about 25 minutes commute away from Combe Down. We found a little three-bed terraced house for rent, a whole £150 a month cheaper than our two bed in Bath! We moved on Hallowe'en, which is insignificant in itself, other than the surrealism of having guisers (English readers, look it up!) coming to the door while we emerged sweetie-less and apologetic from a fort made of cardboard boxes. Praise God for his provision - especially for providentially getting our rent from our new tenants in Linlithgow in a lump sum. We were able to pay up front for the Frome house - we would have needed guarantors otherwise.
Moving house with a newborn baby and a nearly 2-year-old while working and trying to write an essay was... challenging. If not the most stressful week of my life, it was definitely up there. Massive props to Paul Mason from church for moving us, our dear friends Andrew and Elaine and to my dear colleagues Steve and Sharon for coming and helping to pack, and helping with Aidan. I don't know how we'd have done it otherwise. Hannah's brother Dan and his wife Fiona basically unpacked half our house for us, and Hannah's parents did masses as well. Holy Trinity meals ministry also fed us spectacularly when Amy was born - church at its most supportive, and most delicious! Thank you Lord. Again, we just seem to be on constant 'receive' the whole time - humbling.
I stayed up all night writing my essay, and was still redrafting in a half-empty house when Paul and Co. were taking the first load of stuff over to the new house. Incredibly, I got my best ever mark for the essay, which was to do with spiritual formation - very apt. What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger.
What has Athens to do with Jerusalem?
College has continued to be a joy this year. Essay writing can seem in immense struggle, but I've dealt with so many classic (and newly discovered) texts this year - stuff that I've always wanted to deal with, but never had the discipline. An essay on mysticism really stretched me, particularly a winter break in Minehead trying to get inside Teresa of Avila's mansioned soul. I get marks and feedback next week, so let's see if I got anywhere close.
One concept keeps coming up - that of generativity. It refers to that which is essential and life-giving in the faith, being passed on from one mature generation to the next. We might call it discipleship, which we might just as well call love. More and more, I think this is what I am called to do with my life: to disciple others.
While I'm on college, at my most recent residential week, everyone was trying to convince me to do a Masters. This appeals both to my intellect and my ego, and I guess to my spirit too. It's not a BAD idea. But apart from seeming financially remote, it also feels a little like a temptation to just veer a little way off the path that God is calling me to follow. What's that you say? Well, ok, gulp, here goes:
Inordinate Ordination
If you'll allow me to recount something pretty far oot, I shall. Here is the entry from my prayer journal (that sounds like I pray all the time... I totally don't) for 30th July 2013:
Pretty intense hey? Well, I felt I had to do something about it - I chewed it over in Cornwall (see the poem a couple of posts down) and decided I had to do something about it. So having spoken to Paul my boss and Vicar about it, I am now in the midst of the "exploration" process for Anglican ordination! This is something I've thought about for a few years now, but a bunch of things held me back. Bizarrely, my theological studies have led me back to Anglicanism - in that the C of E has a breadth which many of the more 'right-on' independant denominations don't seem to have, at least on the face of it. So while there are areas of Anglicanism I'm wary of (church and state being one) I find increasingly that it feels like home. That there is beauty and truth in breadth and diversity is something I would have affirmed in many spheres of life a few years ago, but theological conservatism meant that I was firmly in the evangelical camp. Now that some of that certitude (read: arrogance) has fallen apart and been put back together again with a whole lot more grace and wonder, I find myself drawn to the qualities of magnanimity and generosity which perhaps the C of E has in its best moments. Have I gone all liberal, I hear you cry? Maybe, but I've gone all evangelical at the same time. I'm finding common ground in many places, overlooking some things which ought to be overlooked, sticking my theological neck out for some things that definitely oughtn't to be overlooked, and generally feeling more at peace about the whole shindig. I might be wrong of course, but the beauty of not having to be right all the time, is that that's ok. Jesus is right; that's enough to be going on with, and hey, somebody help me get this plank out of my eye, pretty please?
Anyway, fact fans will want to know what's actually going on... well, I had a faint hope of being accepted for ordination in 2014, but the process is wisely not one that the Diocese will rush... so if I were to be accepted (far from a foregone conclusion) I would begin training in September 2015. I finish my WTC diploma in June, which leaves over a year of .... uncertainty. What IS certain is that we will run out of money in April. One of us needs to work full time, so we are knocking on doors, and praying and hoping and to be honest, worrying our little heads quite a bit. Still, I am trusting in the process (this is about testing my call for ME, as well as for the C of E), and trusting that God knows what this year is to be about. If it is to be about 'tentmaking' (a New Testament word for 'getting a job in admin') then so be it. I would hate to leave Holy Trinity after such a short time, so 2 part time jobs is a pretty attractive option. Money's gotta come from somewhere. But we trust the Lord, because he is good, and he has provided before, and we have faith he will do so again. I'm also open to the idea that God wants to refine me in some way this year - bursting balloons of pride, pouring water on my flaming ego, and fanning holier passions into flame, teaching me to find some kind of spiritual discipline - these could, and really should, all be part of the sketch. All I can say is, we're open.
The Best Thing in the World
In the midst of all this agonising, this year the best thing in the world happened. Someone who I've been working with, praying for, chatting to, worrying about and feeling powerless and exasperated with for over 6 years had a revelation of the love of the Father of our Lord and Saviour Jesus. And that glorious, playful God let me be a part of it, by giving me a prophetic picture which I described to her in a text message, and which spoke to her in a deep place - for the first time, she knew that God loved her. God uses the foolish things of this world to shame the wise. He has hidden these things from the wise, and revealed them to little children, in mind pictures and text messages. A life has been transformed - set alight with faith, and Jesus allowed me to light the touch paper. This is the best thing in the world.
I'll finish this rather long post with a prayer which I wrote on a post card a few months before going to Uganda in 2012 with my precious St T's kids. It's not a prayer to pray lightly, and to be honest I sort of hope God is looking the other way when I pray it. But pray it I do.
'Father, change what I want, change what I desire. Give me your heart of compassion. Lead me beyond my own comfort and stimulation to the deeper place of doing your will.
Amen,
Martin'
Here's another update on where things are at for me and my family at this particular juncture. This is in part a debt of thanks to those who support us financially, and in prayer and service. You know who you are - we are so grateful and humbled.
Bairns
The second half of 2013 went by in a flash. Thanks to a gift of money from Hannah's brother Matt, we were able to have a summer holiday: a week near Truro Cornwall. It was such a precious time to get away and just be: our first ever holiday just as a family of three!
Of course we didn't stay a family of three for much longer: Amy Cecilia Marguerite was born on the 19th September! And a wonderful wee thing she is too :) We were so blessed that Anne, a dear friend from church came and watched Aidan while I took Hannah to the little maternity hospital at Paulton, a few miles from Bath. Amy arrived in only a couple of hours, and we were home in time for breakfast. Hannah was magnificently brave and beautiful. (Unfortunately low weight gain put Hannah and Amy into the RUH in Bath a week later to be stuffed full of milk - a drag, but quickly forgotten.)
Aidan is thrilled to have a little sister, though it has taken a while for him to adjust to sharing Mummy and Daddy.
I can't believe we have two kids. I still pinch myself most days. If I dwell on this awesome reality, the responsibility is just too overwhelming, so I try to just do it instead of think about it.
Having a toddler and a newborn has been immensely hard work. Still, it is getting a little easier day by day. Church has been a wonderful support, as have both sets of grandparents and assorted family members, and the grace of God sustains us.
Frome Sweet Frome
The house we were living in in Bath was just what we needed for our first year, but it had damp problems, and eventually we got sick of waking up to the slugs on the kitchen walls, so we spend Amy's first few weeks house-hunting. Priced out of the rental market in el posho Bath, we explored outlying areas like Keynsham and Peasedown, but eventually settled a little further afield on Frome in Somerset - a wonderfully quirky, arty-yet-slightly-grubby market town about 25 minutes commute away from Combe Down. We found a little three-bed terraced house for rent, a whole £150 a month cheaper than our two bed in Bath! We moved on Hallowe'en, which is insignificant in itself, other than the surrealism of having guisers (English readers, look it up!) coming to the door while we emerged sweetie-less and apologetic from a fort made of cardboard boxes. Praise God for his provision - especially for providentially getting our rent from our new tenants in Linlithgow in a lump sum. We were able to pay up front for the Frome house - we would have needed guarantors otherwise.
Moving house with a newborn baby and a nearly 2-year-old while working and trying to write an essay was... challenging. If not the most stressful week of my life, it was definitely up there. Massive props to Paul Mason from church for moving us, our dear friends Andrew and Elaine and to my dear colleagues Steve and Sharon for coming and helping to pack, and helping with Aidan. I don't know how we'd have done it otherwise. Hannah's brother Dan and his wife Fiona basically unpacked half our house for us, and Hannah's parents did masses as well. Holy Trinity meals ministry also fed us spectacularly when Amy was born - church at its most supportive, and most delicious! Thank you Lord. Again, we just seem to be on constant 'receive' the whole time - humbling.
I stayed up all night writing my essay, and was still redrafting in a half-empty house when Paul and Co. were taking the first load of stuff over to the new house. Incredibly, I got my best ever mark for the essay, which was to do with spiritual formation - very apt. What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger.
What has Athens to do with Jerusalem?
College has continued to be a joy this year. Essay writing can seem in immense struggle, but I've dealt with so many classic (and newly discovered) texts this year - stuff that I've always wanted to deal with, but never had the discipline. An essay on mysticism really stretched me, particularly a winter break in Minehead trying to get inside Teresa of Avila's mansioned soul. I get marks and feedback next week, so let's see if I got anywhere close.
One concept keeps coming up - that of generativity. It refers to that which is essential and life-giving in the faith, being passed on from one mature generation to the next. We might call it discipleship, which we might just as well call love. More and more, I think this is what I am called to do with my life: to disciple others.
While I'm on college, at my most recent residential week, everyone was trying to convince me to do a Masters. This appeals both to my intellect and my ego, and I guess to my spirit too. It's not a BAD idea. But apart from seeming financially remote, it also feels a little like a temptation to just veer a little way off the path that God is calling me to follow. What's that you say? Well, ok, gulp, here goes:
Inordinate Ordination
If you'll allow me to recount something pretty far oot, I shall. Here is the entry from my prayer journal (that sounds like I pray all the time... I totally don't) for 30th July 2013:
Aidan is poorly. While Hannah went to the shops I sat in his
room while he slept and meditated. I had
a vision from God of me standing looking at the bright light of the sun – it
was so intense I had to shield my eyes and squint. Then I looked and I saw lots of small figures
dispersed along a great shoreline. They
each looked quite isolated. I felt that
each of these people was a leader – a leader who was not afraid to look into
the bright horizon (of God’s future?) I
felt surprised that they were able to do this.
I felt God say to me ‘lead my people.’
My instant reaction in my spirit was ‘No!’ But again God said, ‘lead my people.’ Is this my call to ordination? It feels as if it is.
Pretty intense hey? Well, I felt I had to do something about it - I chewed it over in Cornwall (see the poem a couple of posts down) and decided I had to do something about it. So having spoken to Paul my boss and Vicar about it, I am now in the midst of the "exploration" process for Anglican ordination! This is something I've thought about for a few years now, but a bunch of things held me back. Bizarrely, my theological studies have led me back to Anglicanism - in that the C of E has a breadth which many of the more 'right-on' independant denominations don't seem to have, at least on the face of it. So while there are areas of Anglicanism I'm wary of (church and state being one) I find increasingly that it feels like home. That there is beauty and truth in breadth and diversity is something I would have affirmed in many spheres of life a few years ago, but theological conservatism meant that I was firmly in the evangelical camp. Now that some of that certitude (read: arrogance) has fallen apart and been put back together again with a whole lot more grace and wonder, I find myself drawn to the qualities of magnanimity and generosity which perhaps the C of E has in its best moments. Have I gone all liberal, I hear you cry? Maybe, but I've gone all evangelical at the same time. I'm finding common ground in many places, overlooking some things which ought to be overlooked, sticking my theological neck out for some things that definitely oughtn't to be overlooked, and generally feeling more at peace about the whole shindig. I might be wrong of course, but the beauty of not having to be right all the time, is that that's ok. Jesus is right; that's enough to be going on with, and hey, somebody help me get this plank out of my eye, pretty please?
Anyway, fact fans will want to know what's actually going on... well, I had a faint hope of being accepted for ordination in 2014, but the process is wisely not one that the Diocese will rush... so if I were to be accepted (far from a foregone conclusion) I would begin training in September 2015. I finish my WTC diploma in June, which leaves over a year of .... uncertainty. What IS certain is that we will run out of money in April. One of us needs to work full time, so we are knocking on doors, and praying and hoping and to be honest, worrying our little heads quite a bit. Still, I am trusting in the process (this is about testing my call for ME, as well as for the C of E), and trusting that God knows what this year is to be about. If it is to be about 'tentmaking' (a New Testament word for 'getting a job in admin') then so be it. I would hate to leave Holy Trinity after such a short time, so 2 part time jobs is a pretty attractive option. Money's gotta come from somewhere. But we trust the Lord, because he is good, and he has provided before, and we have faith he will do so again. I'm also open to the idea that God wants to refine me in some way this year - bursting balloons of pride, pouring water on my flaming ego, and fanning holier passions into flame, teaching me to find some kind of spiritual discipline - these could, and really should, all be part of the sketch. All I can say is, we're open.
The Best Thing in the World
In the midst of all this agonising, this year the best thing in the world happened. Someone who I've been working with, praying for, chatting to, worrying about and feeling powerless and exasperated with for over 6 years had a revelation of the love of the Father of our Lord and Saviour Jesus. And that glorious, playful God let me be a part of it, by giving me a prophetic picture which I described to her in a text message, and which spoke to her in a deep place - for the first time, she knew that God loved her. God uses the foolish things of this world to shame the wise. He has hidden these things from the wise, and revealed them to little children, in mind pictures and text messages. A life has been transformed - set alight with faith, and Jesus allowed me to light the touch paper. This is the best thing in the world.
I'll finish this rather long post with a prayer which I wrote on a post card a few months before going to Uganda in 2012 with my precious St T's kids. It's not a prayer to pray lightly, and to be honest I sort of hope God is looking the other way when I pray it. But pray it I do.
'Father, change what I want, change what I desire. Give me your heart of compassion. Lead me beyond my own comfort and stimulation to the deeper place of doing your will.
Amen,
Martin'
Monday 13 January 2014
Infinite Morning
A little poem, of little consequence, but captures how I feel today.
Infinite Morning
Infinite Morning
Sunwashed windows.
Quiet house.
Smoky coffee,
Thick, deep bread.
Memories skate across the kitchen
Through me.
A million choices whirl silently, like dust dancing in a
sunbeam
A million chances - or perhaps just four or five.
I catch myself this infinite morning: human, after all.
Rejoice!
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