the hunter and the honey-bird

Thursdays I'm in at the school quite a bit. Today was no different.

'Respect' was the theme again. The value for the month.

The Head was stressing respect for the natural world and told the children present about the so-called 'honey-bird' and the way the bird co-operates with hunters in the jungle.

Both the bird and the hunters like honey.

But the bees make the honey high up on the top of the trees. The bird can see where the honey is, but can't get the honey itself. While the hunter can't see where the honey is, but is able to get it out.

So, in a remarkable display of mutual understanding the bird and the hunter will travel along 'til the bird spots the tree where the honey is: the man then climbs up the tree and 'smokes' the bees away until it's safe to reach inside and pull all the honey out.

And he leaves a bit of the honey, of course, for the bird who's his partner in crime.

(Well, you'd think it was a crime if you were one of the bees!)

Co-operation. With those we might not see as 'one of us'.

I've been struck for a while by the need that we have to learn to think like that.

We had folk along here the other night for a meeting of an organisation called PlaneSpeaking. We probably don't share a lot in common - except a concern for environmental issues.

And so I'm impressed by the way that a thorough-going Christian organisation like TearFund is involved in the Stop Climate Chaos Coalition, a loose confederation of very different bodies who share a common burden in regard to climate change.

The hunter and the honey-bird phenomenon. A lot more of that will be needed in coming days.

I don't stop being a hunter when I team up with a honey-bird. As it were.

You can see that I get as much as anyone else from my trips along to the school!

And I was there again later for the weekly SU group. We were thinking about dilemmas today and how Jesus differed from everyone else in the way that he treated people. Bullies and baddies included.

I think they got the point OK.

If the morning was all at the children's end of the spectrum the afternoon went right the other way.

I was along at a local Nursing Home to conduct a service of worship there. Four hymns, two prayers, a reading from Scripture and a brief little message as well. All within a quick half-hour. Which is about (or beyond) their limit.

The hymns that I chose were all well-known - at least I thought they were. And the Home has a set of music CDs with some good singing choirs pumping out all the hymns that are sung. So I don't end up singing solo, thankfully.

Well, not quite.

But the hymns are all so evocative. They seem to engender a welter of different memories, so it's not just the words and their meaning that count, but the associations they induce.

Some of the folk sing along. Some simply sit there and listen. And some just fall (or stay) asleep.

They seemed to have found a measure of comfort and strength from the message I brought. I find it very humbling to be able in this way to bring a word of relevance to folk like this.

The word of God and the praise of God. The music and the message. The hunter and the honey-bird again, I guess. A potent combination.

We hosted a workshop here tonight. Exploring Prayer. A visiting 'speaker'. Or, more, I suppose, a 'facilitator'. Enabling and encouraging us to find the rich resources that there are for corporate prayer.

She did the 'honey-bird' bit in a way. Showing us where the honey high up on the trees could be found. We have to do the hunting bit ourselves. And pull the honey out.

I'm a 'hunter' by name. So we will.

day away

I was away up in Perth all day today. A conference for 'supervisors'.

This is a task I undertake from time to time - 'supervising' students, I mean, as part of their ongoing training, not taking a day away in Perth.

Presently we've got a student who's 'placed' with us. Hence the day up in Perth.

Sometimes I end up thinking that I'm the one who really should be supervised!

The conference was held in the buildings at Letham St Mark's. It's a brilliant suite of buildings and I think what I like about it best of all is the way they have the big, bright 'cafe' space, where you enter, as a sort of 'foyer' to the lovely worship area.

It means you can choose your 'distance' as it were. It means you can move from chatting away with others in a relaxed, informal setting, to drawing near to God. It makes it clear relationship is what it's all about.

I always enjoy being there, I have to say. It's very clear these folk up there in Perth just love the Lord. Their welcome is warm and kind. The place is bright and clean. And they know they've got good news to share.

So being away for the day at a place like that is good for the soul I guess.

living the life of tomorrow

This week's going to be one day shorter for me.

I've a whole day conference away in Perth tomorrow which may be a 'day away' - but it's also one day less. Which means that the rest of the week gets rather 'concertina-ed' and a few things have to 'give'.

So today I've been trying to get ahead and sort of get where I'd want to be by the end of tomorrow by the end of today. If you see what I mean!

It's kind of 'living the future' a little, I guess. And not a bad picture of what we're always about. Starting living tomorrow today.

We've had work going on in our buildings here these past few days. Double glazing installed in one of the halls and our 'upper room' being well and truly insulated.

(No - don't worry! This isn't a picture of the work being done at the moment. It's just a pretty graphic picture of the sort of mess that building work involves)

Both cost money, of course. But both of them, too, are aimed at reducing our energy use. We're trying to think responsibly along these lines and figure out just what it means to take care of the earth.

I was at a meeting this evening along those lines. Which only confirmed the conviction I have in my heart that we can't stand idly by. As down-to-earth disciples of the risen Lord, we should be giving a lead.

So the building work that's been going on reflects, I suppose, the work that we've been doing this past long while within our congregation's life, with a view to fitting ourselves once again to be that sort of people. To give that sort of lead.

While the work's going on in the buildings here, the place looks a mess. There's dust everywhere. For a while there's not any glass at all, just wide open spaces where windows once were.

If you didn't know what was going on, you'd think what a run-down, good-for-nothing tip! But it's a work in progress and you can't get the work all done in a 'seamless' sort of way. There's that in-between time when it all seems one big mess.

That's how it sometimes seems as well with the work of re-fitting our communal life.

But I want folk to see where we're headed.

I want folk to see that we're getting ourselves and our life re-configured with a view to our being a people who are able to provide the lead our present-day society now needs.

If it sometimes seems like a mess, it's only because we are building.

Starting living the life of tomorrow today.

Getting well ahead of the game.

what it's all about

"That's what it's all about, isn't it?"

I was in this afternoon at a nursing home and chatting with people there. At the end I'd prayed.

And, like so often happens, that exercise of prayer sort of opened a bit of a flood-gate.

The man began to talk about the service that he'd been to in the home the day before. How the speaker had told the well-known, striking story of the man who'd long been paralysed being lowered through the roof and laid at Jesus' feet.

It had made a powerful impression upon the man. Not up to much himself these days. His eyes welled up with tears and - with a touch of difficulty - he smiled and said "That's what it's all about, isn't it?"

Which, of course, it is.

'It', I suppose, in the words that he said, being the business of life itself. And 'that' being our ending up there in the presence of Jesus himself.

It's not really all that complicated at all.

I like those guys, the friends of the paralysed man. They don't take 'No' for an answer. They're not put off by the problems there are in getting their pal to the Lord, what with the crowds all swarming around the place.

I mean, they didn't exactly have sirens way back in those good old days. It was every man for himself, first day at the sales sort of stuff.

Four men with a stretcher between them and a paralysed man on top ... well, they don't stand a chance. Common sense should have told them that.

But they do some 'blue-sky' thinking and they take some dodgy risks.

They go up onto the roof of the house, make a hole in the roof and lower the stretcher down. Right at the feet of Jesus.

I doubt either they or the man whose house it was were exactly covered by insurance. They risked quite a bit. But they got their friend where he needed to be. And remarkable things took place.

Some of the morning I spent going over a 'state-of-the-world' sort of statement that my good friend Nigel had prepared. It's a brief, ten paragraph summary of the challenges - and the opportunities - that the followers of Jesus are facing today.

He's a guy who's gone out on a limb. He thinks solutions rather than problems. He's a guy who can see that by getting up there on the roof and boring some holes we can actually get where we want.

And who's prepared to take the risk of doing that.

I'd love to be able to print his summary statement here, because it's really bang on the button. But it's only in draft at the present time and he'd asked me to give it a look.

I found myself saying "That's what it's all about!"

'It' being the business of following Jesus Christ and 'that' being the rising up boldly to take the risks there are in addressing the challenges faced.

People maybe saw those stretcher-bearing friends going up on the roof and thought that they were daft.

Like people maybe think I'm daft to have got up on Saturday morning at 1am and driven down to the north Wales/Shropshire border for the day. It's a 6 hour drive or so. And a 6 hour drive on the return leg, too, of course, so I didn't get back to my bed 'til 4am on the Sunday morning.

Crazy? I guess that some would say so.

But it meant I got to share in a family gathering. At the home of my son and his wife in a lovely little village called Selattyn. With my other two sons converging there as well with their girlfriends (one in each case, I should add for the avoidance of any confusion).

They were all there for the whole weekend. But I got to share the one full day that they all had there together. It was worth the long day and the long round trip.

And as someone said when I told them that's what I'd done -

"That's what it's all about, isn't it?"

Tonight, though, I have to say, I'm tired!

body life

These last two days have been hectic!

Again.

But happily so. There's that much going on, it's great. And through it all there's a definite sense of the Lord himself being at work among us all.

It's not for nothing the followers of Jesus Christ get called his 'body'. We belong to each other. We need each other. We work best together.

And, of course, we cover for one another as well all the time.

These days are a case in point. The lady who makes the Wednesday soups has broken her wrist. She's out of commission that way.

I think that's maybe the only way the Lord could give her the break that she surely needed.

And the lady who makes the Thursday soups, she's damaged some ligaments and standing around in the kitchen is definitely not what she needs.

And the secretary's off as well this week.

So it's getting a bit like last-man-standing sort of stuff.

I took up the 'slack' for yesterday's soups. And the place was mobbed again. All sorts of folk who love being here. It's great to see them all.

So there's been a bit of that sort of thing. More than there usually is. It's just as well it's been the school half term - at least I had Thursday off from being at the school and was able to be around. Making the soup, loading the dishes, chatting with folk.

And out to meet with some leaders to talk through how we organise our life. 'Body' life. How to make the parts all work together.

Today's been a bit of the same.

An early start. I had to be through in Glasgow by 6.45am. And caught the 7am train back.

Dropped off some documents realting to Kirkliston at a building near to the station. Walked back home and then down here to get on with a full day's work.

The doctor was in with his students as well, mid morning. So there's tea and coffee and cakes to be got all prepared for them. And tidied up later on.

And my time with the student who's placed here just now. A weekly, hour-long session as we work through different aspects of the ministry to which he's called.

And seeing some folk who've not been well.

And in amongs it all some solid preparation. Teasing out all that the Scriptures are saying and seeing how it all applies to ourselves today.

As the 'body' of Christ. His friends, through whose intertwined lives he rolls up his sleeves and gets on with the business today of imparting God's blessing to people all over the world.

It's good to be a part of that.

The Fighting Temeraire

I popped across to the doctor today.

Not that I was feeling unwell. It was just in regard to a booking the doctor had made and a change to the venue he'd booked.

We had a cup of coffee and during the chat he asked if he'd ever told me about the way he used Turner's famous painting 'The Fighting Temeraire' as a sort of visual aid in his berevement counselling.

I didn't even know he did bereavement counselling. So the fact that he used a painting as part of the process was new to me as well.

I asked him to explain. I was really quite intrigued. I couldn't quite see what connection there really could be between this painting and the pain of recent bereavement.

Well, he explained all right. Fascintating stuff.

And it put me in mind of a book I read a while ago, by Henri Nouwen. It was called 'The Return of the Prodigal Son' and the book is really a lengthy reflection on the painting by his fellow Dutchman, Rembrandt, called 'The Prodigal Son'.

He looked at this painting and pondered the different nuances there were. And ... well, the book is the result.

These guys, Rembrandt and Turner and all of their ilk - they're not simply painting a picture. They're putting a message across. It's just they use colour where others use words.

'The Fighting Temeraire' is a case in point.

Here's a worthy old ship from the famous British Navy, a ship that was involved in Trafalgar - and in some ways expresses the essence of all that that Navy has been - and here is this boat being pulled by a tug to its final resting place. There to be broken up.

You can see where the doctor's coming from when he uses the thing as part of bereavement counselling. Especially when there's such a stunning backdrop of the setting sun.

Except, despite what the National Gallery blurb has to say about it all, it's not really setting at all. It's really a sunrise he's painted. So the good doctor informed me.

The geography gives it away. The south bank of the river Thames is on the right hand side. So the sun must be in the east. Which is sunrise.

The logic of the man's impeccable. Who was I to argue with the guy?

The old ship's demise. A new day's dawn. Well, it doesn't take a full-blown genius to get the picture!

This impromptu bit of education in the finer arts got rudely interrupted by a phone call that the doctor had to take. But he'd said enough already to have triggered whole new avenues of thought.

The visual side of communicating truth has always been a potent thing. And I guess in our age today it's no less so. Almost certainly more so than ever.

If I were an artist I'd love to try painting the passage we studied today at the lunchtime service. Jacob and his sons getting word that there's grain in Egypt. And Jacob seeing the look on all his son's faces and asking - why do you keep looking at each other like that?

Well, we know and they know why they're looking like that at each other. It's guilt. Guilt from some twenty years back. After selling their brother to traders who were going down to .. yes, Egypt.

And Jacob goes blindly on, unaware of all that they'd done, and tells them to go down to Egypt themselves, '...that we may live and not die'.

I'd love to capture that moment on canvas. The whole thing so full of such nuances.

Twenty years on down the line they're all going to end up in Egypt. And the whole thing is not about pay-back and judgment. It's all about healing and health. That they may live, and not be eaten away by their guilt in all its corrosive effect on all of their lives.

Well, I tried to paint that picture for the folk there at the service which we held today. And I hope they got the message, though a picture might have put it all more powerfully.

A lot of the time it's pictures I'm trying to paint, I suppose.

And 'The Fighting Temeraire' is a very graphic image that's remained with me throughout the day.

We were praying tonight again. And one of the ladies there was speaking about the way in which the supplies that we send to the West Pilton Christian Centre every week have been getting that much smaller over recent months.

Which is probably all to do with it being an older generation who've been putting the goods that way. And now that older generation is no longer quite so able to be out and about and doing the things they did.

'Temeraires' whose 'fighting' days are slowly coming to an end.

But they're doing so against the backdrop of a rising sun. And if you look quite closely at the painting Turner did, you see that there's a large, three-masted ship, her sails unfurled, heading off and down the river to the open seas.

A new generation carrying forward the noble tradition of faith.

'Big Phil'

'Big Phil'. Does the name ring any bells?

Luiz Felipe Scolari - as in (ex-)Chelsea manager?

Phil Brown - as in (still) Hull City manager?

Or maybe the tag rings no bells at all.

Well, 'Big Phil' is a guy who figures in the Bible.

Not a lot, I have to say. But enough to make me think that I'd have liked the man. I suspect that most folk did.

I mean, he's not actually called 'Big Phil' obviously. And when I dub him 'Big', I'm not really talking about his height or weight. Just his heart.

For though he only plays the smallest of parts, I think he must have been a big-hearted sort of man.

The Bible has a letter that was written to this man. Compared to your average Christmas thank-you letter it's not exactly short. But compared to the rest of the letters the Bible contains ... well, it's really pretty brief.

The writer says this about our man 'Big Phil' - "you, brother, have refreshed the hearts of the saints."

Which, I think, is a wonderful thing to be said by someone about you.

I was made to think of 'Big Phil' again today. Mainly by the people I was meeting and the time I spent with them.

Because there are folk like that around and it's always a joy and always so very uplifting to be with them and work with them.

There's a man I had lunch with today, for instance. He's not often up in these parts, but he'd been up for a meeting last night and I was glad to be able to arrange with him to meet with him today. Along with Douglas, as usual, of course.

This man is a genuine 'brother' in Christ. You kind of sense that straight away with him. A down to earth integrity: an easy, warm humility.

And he always has the effect of refreshing the hearts of the saints. He's good to be with and his gentle, child-like spirit of adventure and his wonderful, enthusiastic outlook on all life ... well, they're highly infectious.

In some ways I guess that's exactly what Jesus himself was like. Wherever he went he simply refreshed the hearts of the saints.

The folk that I work with here are like that. Their friendship, support and encouragement are a 'Big Phil' type of ministry. Their effect is really positive. And especially when we stop for a bit and pray.

And every time I think about this guy, 'Big Phil', I always end up praying, Lord, make me like that myself.

The 'postie' was in this morning. I met him in the 'Gents' - a chance encounter, you understand, rather than a pre-arranged meeting place - and he agreed to stop for a coffee today.

His 4 mph average speed was maybe a little affected by this little break, but it's good for the guy to stop. I sometimes watch him at his daily work, touring the whole community, knocking at doors, calling across to people across the street. Everyone knows the man.

So from time to time he's ready to stop for a break with us here. Which in some ways is a minor miracle in itself.

And the way I've been thinking today, I see how a man like that, with a job like that, can be, if he chooses, a 'Big Phil' sort of guy. Refreshing the hearts of the people he calls on and meets every day.

Of course, that's one of the problems with this 4 mph average speed that they're looking for. It's not a good speed for refreshing the hearts of anyone. The thing has become a business, like so much else, instead of a part of our daily community life.

More's the pity.

I was seeing someone else at night. This time by arrangement. That, too, was a time when my heart was refreshed once again.

A time of sharing vision, I suppose. And a time, I guess in consequence, when I found myself encouraged in the knowledge that, however long it takes, we'll get to be the people that God means that we should be.

And maybe that time is sooner than I think. I keep thinking we're nearing the 'tipping point'. The point at which, after years of gently edging slowly forward, the moment of momentum is attained.

To be given that sense, to be helped to believe that that hope will be realised soon - well, that's a 'Big Phil' sort of ministry as well.

And if I'm so much on the receiving end of 'Big Phil' sorts of folk, then I want to be always living like that myself.

active kid

There was a lot that I wanted to get on with today.

The girl who prepares our Sunday morning worship services is away all this week. So there was that to attend to straight off. Plus the evening service. Plus the Wednesday lunchtime service, too.

So a fair bit of time was spent on that today - preparing orders of service.

Which all really starts with my trying to hear what it is that the Lord is saying. It isn't always easy and it generally takes some time. But I find it always exciting - and it isn't usually long before I'm finding myself caught up in it all. And I lose all sense of time.

Anyway. I got the basic groundwork done for all three coming services.

It's one of those weeks when I know I need to get up and running good and quick. Or I'll be chasing the clock all the time.

There were folk to see as well. A lady back in hospital. In a lot of pain.

I called in to see her and prayed for God's healing and help. The word of God again. A 'Let there be light', as it were, spoken once again into the darkness of the lady's pain.

There was food to be bought as well. Tomorrow's my soup-making day. So I looked in to the store on my way back from the hospital.

I've got to know the lady at the check-out just a bit. An older lady, called Edith, I think. Or Enid, or something like that (I must take a closer look! But you can see we're not on first-name terms or anything quite yet!).

She's good for a laugh and when she offered me some 'Active Kids Vouchers' she added - '...or have you left school now?'

It must be my youthful looks!

Or something.

Have I left school? Well, no. Not really. I'm still very much a learner.

And, from that point of view at least, I guess I'm still just a grown up 'active kid'.

Listening day by day. Learning from the Lord. And glad to be able to be active in so many ways.

And sharing in what God's doing among us now.

clearing paths

There was a further fall of snow today.

Compared to the rest of the country, though, it didn't amount to much. But it did seem to throw arrangements across at the school a bit.

I went along for the 10am assembly. Not quite shock, horror on the faces of the secretaries. More a gasp of 'Oh dear!' They'd changed the time of the assembly today from 10am to 9am. Not to worry. I'd be back.

The Scripture Union group meets each week at 12.45pm. So I was along in good time for that. But the snow meant lunch arrangements were slightly changed as well. 'Inside breaks' and all that. So instead of our usual half and hour we got maybe 15 minutes with the children.

Better than nothing, but pretty brief, of course. And they're always keen to come along, no matter how short the time might be.

I'd missed it last week. They'd all been challenged to find some ways of doing the Jesus thing and servinig other folk. And I knew they'd be asking me as well what I had done this week.

The snow at least gave a chance to serve the community. Out with the snow shovel shifting the snow and clearing the paths around the buildings here.

'Preparing the way for the king' was how the prophet John understood his role in life. That was a long time back. But it's part, I suppose, of how I see myself. Clearing the paths of access to and for the king. As it were.

I called by on a lady this afternoon whose husband had died a wee while back. She hasn't all that much time for the church. As in, she doesn't have a great opinion of the church. Stuff your religion is probably about where she's at.

Which is fine by me. I don't have that much time for religion myself. And I told her so.

She told me a bit of her background and what it was in the past that had put her off. Church, in all of its worst, most religious of guises. Rules and regulations. Threats and demands. Callous and careless of how people felt and what people's needs might have been.

No wonder she's not that enamoured with Christ and his church.

Well, I explained, as I said, that I wasn't 'religious' myself, and didn't have that much time for 'church' the way she'd spoken of the thing. I said I was just a follower of Jesus. That he was worth getting to know.

She wanted to know what I meant. So I explained. And what I'd thought might have been just a brief little fifteen minute call, ended up a good deal longer!

What will my sister think of me if she finds I've been speaking to Jesus? were pretty much her parting words. I don't really know. But it'll be interesting to find out!

Those sort of conversations are a part of how the paths are slowly cleared, enabling folk perhaps to get a good deal nearer to the Lord.

At night I was out in the home of another family. They've known grief as well. Deep, profound, sore. Tragedy and sorrow six months back.

I sensed it was right to go out and see them once again. I mean, I do pop in from time to time. But I just had that sense that I really should go there tonight.

I was glad that I'd gone. And I think they were too. They were, all of them, there. And it's always so easy to be there as part of their family life. They always make me welcome.

We chatted, of course, over all sorts of things. Including the pain of their grief.

It's hard, I think, to feel able to get through to God when you've been through the mill as they've been. It's not just as snow that the flakes of their sorrow have fallen. It's more like a blizzard that's come.

Clearing paths through such 'drifts' takes an awful long time!

But I'm ready to make the effort. That's what I'm called to do in life.

Shovel the snow all away and clear all the paths so that people get through to the king.

do as you like!

There was another service of thanksgiving held today.

The lady who'd died was 93 and the crowd that gathered was really impressively large. I mean, when you get to that age, your peers usually are either unfit or .. well, no longer there. In the main.

The size of the congregation was tribute itself to the calibre of this lady. And it's always a very real privilege to lead such a service and use such a person's long life as the platform for speaking God's word.

The message was simple. Jesus' answer, when questioned about what was the greatest commandment of all.

Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.

Which is pretty much what I think this lady had sought to do through her life.

It's good to be able to stop like that, and pause for a bit of reflection. Quite challenging, too. Is this how I'm living my life?

I forget who it was that first said it, but I remember it being said - Love God and do what you like!

That's going a long way back, mind - my first hearing that. I was still, I think, in the flush of youth, my early twenties sort of thing, and I remember being really quite struck by these words.

They seemed to me quite liberating. No rules and regulations. No laws at all. Just love the Lord and do what you like!

Except, of course, when you start to love the Lord, you cease to be all that concerned with what you'd like to do, and more and more concerned with what he'd like.

But as I say, that radical perspective's always been a really liberating thing for me. And hugely challenging, too. In the end of the day that's all that really matters - that I love the Lord, with all of my mind and all of my strength and all of my spirit as well.

I've an idea it was maybe a guy called Augustine who 'coined' the phrase. It's certainly the sort of thing that he'd have said.

So the service spoke to me as well - even if no one else was really touched!

I didn't have time to go on with the family for the after-service 'do'. There was another service here. The midweek lunch-time service.

A little bit more on the story of Joseph McJacob. A bright young man who ends ujp abroad and finds himself acting as a kind of economic czar for the powerful king of Egypt.

We've been thinking and praying a lot about our own young folk. Joseph was hitting his thirties when all this came about. And we recognise the huge sort of role our own young folk may play when they start getting into their thirties and on beyond.

Joseph displayed remarkable leaderfship gifts. It's these that we were looking at again.

We were praying them for the leaders in our own land here today: because that's the sort of leadership a country always needs.

And we were seeng just how important it still is for us in all the ongoing nurture of our young folk growing up - how important it is to instill in their minds and their hearts this outlook and perspective on all life.

The sort of thing that Joseph learned. And which made him such an influence for good.

I've been thinking a lot these past few weeks about those who were 17 or so when I first came here. Because I'm seeing them now, some twenty years down the line, at the age that Joseph was when the economic crisis began to kick in in Egypt.

And I'm aware of the roles that some of these folk now play - and the whole big sphere of influence that they have. At a time when a similar sort of economic 'downturn' hits our shores.

And I'm thinking, too, of the way in which the nurture and instruction and example that we give throughout those first long years of life before they leave their homes (as Joseph did, aged 17), are hugely instrumental in the shaping of the people they become.

And how it's often only twenty years on down the line before that prayerful Christian nurture maybe really starts to come into its own.

So we're praying hard for our young folk and for those that are up in their thirties now as well. And those beyond as well, of course!

We had our usual time of prayer at night. And that encompasses a whole great range of need

Including the needs of older folk, with whom the bulk of my afternoon was spent. Their day is maybe done in terms of all the influence they have out in the workplace and the market place of life. But they're still quite able to pray.

And still as able, well on in years, whatever their needs and condition - they're still as able to love the Lord, with all their heart and soul and mind and strength.

And then, I suppose, do as they like!

soup-making

Tuesdays begin with the soups.

I generally start here quite early, about 7.30am. And on Tuesdays I start with the making of both of the soups. There's a certain sort of therapy in that, because it keeps me from simply rushing headlong into all the different things there are to do. And gives me time to think.

It's the same with the task of setting up the tables and the chairs in the halls. There's a therapy in that at the start of the day. I'm getting the place in order. Looking good.

And that involves both time and work. But that's the business of creation.

We're wanting to serve our society and offer them something good. Like the soup. But it has to be got on the boil for quite a while. It doesn't happen instantly. (I know you can get these packs of instant soup, but they're not the same. Really!)

Today I was thinking that it's much the same with all that we're seeking to do. With the soup it's the raw materials of various different vegetables that I'm working with, preparing and then combining them over hours of gentle heat, until at last they emerge as a tasty soup.

That's not a bad picture of the bigger sort of work in which I'm day by day involved. Except it's not vegetables I'm working with, but people. The basic raw material from which the 'soup' of kingdom living's to be made.

There's work to be done with people individually. That personal 'preparation' which is part of our discipling folk.

But there's work to be done on a larger canvas too, as we slowly start combining all these very varied people and building them together as the church of Christ.

'Church', I fear, still looks far too like just the bundles of varied vegetables which I bring into the kitchen in my shopping bag. Everyone present and correct. Together in a sense.

But hardly soup. In fact barely recognisable as such at all.

A shopping bag full of veg isn't soup. And a building full of people on a Sunday isn't church.

The same sort of thing occurred to me later on. One of our older members was compiling a brief sort of 'bio'. A sheet about himself since his previous one was a little bit out of date.

Could we help him? So we got down to work with the text and set it all out in a range of different ways for him to see. And then we got down to the photos as well. Any number of different poses, the camera clicking away like a machine-gun doing over-time.

And once we'd got the picture we got to work with cropping it and 'softening' it, and shaping it, until it looked pretty good.

You may think that's a waste of my time. But it's not. It's a picture of what I'm about. Working away with this person and that to present them at last to the world in a way that reflects more and more both the beauty and grandeur of God.

Soup all over again - in an individual's life. Working with some pretty basic raw materials and seeing them transformed into something remarkably good. Which draws folk in and makes them want to 'taste' for themselves and see that the Lord is good.

But it takes a long, long time. And a lot of hard work as well.

My soups have to simmer for hours on end.

And the work of the kingdom of God - that, too, takes time.

admin

There's been a lot to do today relating to my responsibilities out at Kirkliston.

It's a fairly long and sometimes complicated process, this business of a congregation choosing their new minister. But by and large it works pretty well.

And the fact that it's long means there's always a bit of a 'breathing space' in the time between two ministers. A chance to take stock and reflect on who they are and where they're coming from and what it is God's purposed for the days ahead.

The process is fairly straightforward. The people choose a team (the 'Nominating Committee') to find on their behalf the person whom God's calling as their minister. They then come up with the person whom they 'nominate' (hence the name of the committee!).

And the congregation then get the chance to hear that person conduct worship and preach before them all. And then they vote.

That's what this coming Sunday brings. The 'sole nominee' conducting the worship, and then the congregation voting.

Basically fairly simple. Except if you live in Scotland and had your ear to the ground at all during the last round of elections, you'll know that the voting can be sometimes a problem!

So there are a load of different systems that I need to set in place and all sorts of different arrangements I have to ensure are made.

It's called 'Admin', I think. And there are days when it takes up a fair amount of time.

It's easy to begin to resent the amount of time that gets taken up on 'admin'. To start thinking of any number of other things that I might more profitably be doing. Or that I'd certainly prefer to be doing.

But love involves good 'admin' (as well as good manners which an early friend of Jesus underlined).

I mean, to put on a meal for your family, friends or whoever - that involves good 'admin'. Arranging the times, making it happen, getting things all prepared.

Nothing flash, mind you, just easy and relaxed. But it needs a bit of 'admin'.

Same as a shepherd looking after his sheep. The only way he knows a sheep is missing is because he's done the 'admin' in advance. He knows how many there are meant to be. He's done the count (and hasn't fallen asleep).

So I don't really mind the 'admin'. And, of course, it's not the only thing I'm doing at all.

There was another service of thanksgiving today. John had been in hospital these last few years. But there were still a good number of people out at the service, maybe 60 or 70 folk.

He was a lovely, gracious, gentle Christian man, with a delightful smile and a warmth and a sparkle writ large across his face.

You always got the sense that this man knew where he was headed and was quite at peace with the world. We sang three good going hymns and the whole of the time was essentially real celebration.

Celebrating a life well-lived. Celebrating a man well-loved. Celebrating a God who's altogether good. Such times as that are marked far more by an underlying joy than any lasting sorrow.

And, aware as I've been today of the role that our 'admin' plays, I saw again how important it is that we've done the preparation.

That's why a service like that is so good. It's not a shambles. The thorough preparation was all done well in advance.

That's how things will work well this coming Sunday out at Kirkliston. If the preparation's all been done with thoroughness and care.

And that's how John had lived his life. He'd done the preparation. He was well-prepared for death.

Long before his mind began to falter and his health went into decline, he'd long since sort of buried in the soil of his own soul the solid hope of resurrection joy. With the result that even when his faculties began to wane, this hopefulness pervaded all he was.

He'd read and studied the Bible. He'd prayed it into his soul.

Routine sort of stuff in its way. But he'd done it. The 'admin' of the soul.

Do the 'admin' well, and the pay-off is assured.

little courtesies

I like the cartoon above. It's a bit like what I feel like since these last couple of days have been pretty non-stop.

Yes, so what's new!

Today was fairly typical with a merry-go-round of different tasks and people.

The primary school (twice - and it should have been three, but I got hopelessly waylaid by a late morning meeting and missed the SU group by almost an hour).

A whole load of e-mails and forms to be filled and letters I needed to write. And telephone calls as well, arranging a time to be meeting with folk.

A meeting with the person who'll preach before the congregation at Kirkliston in 10 days' time as the choice of the Nominating Committee out there. A lovely time and thrilling to hear of the wonderful ways the Lord has been working in this person's life as well.

The service of thanksgiving for a man up in his nineties, the father of one of the secretaries at the primary school. His son-in-law spoke, and spoke very well. Then I tried to pull all the strings together and bring them God's word for the day.

Then straight on from there to a meeting about the way that our pastoral care is being slowly developed, renewed and transformed. A little bit longer than I'd thought but useful and helpful and positive all the way through.

Some planning by phone over tea and then straight off again to meet with some folk through the evening. Two separate 'appointments' arranged some while in advance. The one more practical, the other more pastorally complex.

But in amongst the busy-ness of another day like this, it's strange how it's a small and fleeting moment at the school which sticks in my mind.

I was leaving the school at break-time, after the second of the two assemblies, when a girl in P5 who'd been at the earlier assembly now passed me in the corridor.

I smiled and said 'Hello' and used her name. And she turned and said, 'Thank you for your prayer'. Not much, you'll think. Perhaps nothing more than a gesture of her courtesy.

But it re-affirmed this whole 'Melchizedek' approach. This is what I do. I bless people! And here was a girl who, off her own bat, on the back of the 'blessing' my prayer with the children had been, responded with a 'thank you'.

It fairly made my day!

Melchizedek again

This Melchizedek thing is great!

This guy who's a king and priest showed the way for us all. Since that's what all of us are, as followers of Jesus - kings and priests. And prophets, too, for that matter.

Melchizedek met with Abraham and blessed him. That's what these kings and priests do. So that's what we do too.

And of course it works both ways. You get to be 'blessed' as well as your 'blessing' others.

The day wasn't all that old when a man from Kirkliston came in.

The soups had been done (Scotch Broth, the sort of soup you reall need on a day like today, and cream of tomato soup - an original recipe, shall I say!). The folk for the ante-natal class were already filing in.

And we were just about to get down to our time of prayer. So he came and joined us for that. And then came in to see me. Really very briefly.

He'd been going to drop me an e-mail, but he thought that the person-to-person approach was better by far. The Melchizedek thing.

He wanted to thank me, not only for all I've been doing out there at Kirkliston, but more in his own life too.

He described his 'journey' of faith, the progress he's made in learning to follow the Lord. And he hihglighted three major, pivotal points in his life. The last of which, he said, was the impact my teaching had had on his life - utterly transforming, was the way he phrased it.

If that's not 'blessing' a person, such a testimony to the way in which God's hand is on my life, then I don't know what is!

And I think, in many ways, that's what this 'blessing' is. Imparting to another that sense of the hand of almighty God upon that other person's life. Bestowing the grace and assurance of God's own love to their deepest soul.

Well, he did that for me. And I suppose that he had me walking on air for much of the day. Not that it had ever crossed my mind that there might have been such an effect upon his life through my (really fairly minimal) involvement in his life.

He and his wife are a wonderful couple, and I think they simply go around each day just doing this Melchizedek thing. 'Blessing' people, doing them good, encouraging them in their walk with the Lord.

I was thinking of that while conducting a service of thanksgiving this afternoon. There weren't that many folk among the people gathered there that I'd set eyes on much before. And I couldn't be sure just where these folk were coming from.

In terms of their knowledge of God, I mean.

But I really just wanted to do the Melchizedek thing. To 'bless' them. To give them a sense of the hand of God outstretched and actually touching their lives with his love, his presence, his life-transforming power.

There was time for a brief little chat with the son of the man's second wife. He's the one whose daughter I know from the school. It was good to touch base with him and make the thing that bit more personal too.

Back here after that and a brief chance to meet with Douglas again. I was thinking again of Melchizedek and what it might mean to bring blessing to Douglas as well.

I was asking the Lord, as I listened to what Douglas said - I was asking the Lord to show me just what I might say. That would be a blessing to the guy.

And he gave me the words to say. It was great. Douglas turned round immediately and said, I'll take that as the word of the Lord for me!

He went away blessed. I think!

It's a great way to live.