tagging along

One of the fellowship groups here had a barbecue on tonight. To which I was kindly invited.

It was a lovely, relaxed and 'chilling-out' sort of time (outside it did actually get quite chilly as well after a while, so most of us went inside). And great to sit and chat a bit with different folk.

Through the course of the evening two separate individuals, entirely independent of each other, quizzed me along similar lines.

One of them asked me what it was like being a minister. The other one asked me what I would do when I retired. Or if I could have lived another life as well, she said, what would I like to have done.

Well, I don't really think of myself as 'a minister'. I'm a bit of a rebel at heart. And always have been. So I do what I do. And if people call that being a minister, that's fine by me. But it's not how I think of myself.

I think of myself as someone who's following Jesus. And I love doing that.

The guy is so creative and he dreams up things that really are amazing and he changes people's lot in life remarkably and he makes the world a hugely better place.

Present tense, please note. The guy is not some figure from a history book enticing me into a world that no longer exists. He's here and now.

And I think I love the way he isn't really bothered by the sort of expectations that so many people have about what good, religious leaders should be like.

He just goes around doing good. Helping and healing; challenging, changing and charging right into the fray of the issues we face in our world of today.

I love the guy! And I think it's great he lets a mixed-up-kid like me just tag along and share it all with him.

So, in a way, the 'what-will-you-do-when-you-retire' sort of question doesn't make a lot of sense to me. I mean, there'll come a day when I have to stop this 'being-a-parish-minister' thing, but that's not really what I do!

What I do is simply tag along with Jesus in the things that he is doing day by day. And I don't have plans, or any real desire, to stop doing that.

The way that a day like today pans out is really just one further illustration of how that all works out. My tagging along with Jesus, as it were.

He's planning on being with us all here on Sunday. I'm excited by that!

Because I sense he has things that he's wanting to say. And these things that he's wanting to say will be life-changing, challenging things.

So a bit of today's been spent kind of sitting around with the guy. Talking the whole thing through with him and figuring out what he's meaning and wanting to say.

That's what I mean by 'tagging along with him'. Sometimes it's just this sort of 'hanging out' with the guy. Listening in and teasing the whole thing out from him.

He knows who'll be there. That's the remarkable thing. And he knows what they'll need to hear. So he works it through and once I've got it clear he sort of says, 'OK. Let's go hit the place and do it now!'

If that's not a great way to live, I don't really know what is!

But it's not all a case of just sitting around like that. The guy is on his feet and on the move and on the streets.

And tagging along with him is as often as not a heart-in-the-stomach, take-a-deep-breath adventure of crossing the frontiers and engaging with people in need. Of one sort or another. And sometimes they don't even know they have a need.

Like this afternoon. I was out and about and calling on different homes.

One of the homes that I called on, I'd never been before. And they weren't really even expecting me.

But the lady, I think, is terminally ill and her brother-in-law had phoned to ask if I'd maybe find time to go round. I never know what I'm going to, or what I'm going to find.

I wasn't invited in. I think the lady's husband felt that since he hadn't aired the thing with her, my calling by would feel to her like the last rites were being given to her. A none-too-subtle statement on her state of health. Or lack of it.

That's the down-side of being simply 'the minister'. There's baggage that goes with the role. The baggage of religion.

When all that was really happening was that Jesus was ringing the bell of the home. Knocking on their door. And saying, like, "I'm here if you need me and glad to help".

But he doesn't go barging in. And neither did I. He's not in any hurry: he'll bide his time. But he's been there at their door. And he'll be back. And for me, it's just a case of tagging along with him.

Here, there and everywhere.

And watching a master at work.