pinpricks of light

Forty two years is a long time. In anyone's book.

Except maybe God's.

He's pretty patient and never rushed.

And sometimes he lets his people know a good long time in advance what he's going to do.

I mean, that's his regular habit - letting his people know. "The sovereign Lord does nothing without first revealing his plan to his servants the prophets."

So you expect that he'd give advance notice of what he had planned to do.

Yesterday evening I was reminded again of the remarkable sort of 'vision' that Jean Darnall was given back in 1967.

Three times over she was given this very specific vision.

Three times over - for the avoidance of any doubt, presumably.

This is how she put it -

"... What I saw was the British Isles, as in a bird's eye view. A kind of haze was over the whole, like a green fog.

"And then little pinpricks of light began to appear from the top of Scotland to Land's End. Then the Lord seemed to draw me closer to these lights, and I saw that they were fires that were burning. They were multiplying from the top of Scotland to Land's End.

"Then I saw lightening come and strike those fires, the brightest spots particularly, and there was a kind of explosion, and rivers of fire flowed down. Again, the sense of direction was from the top of Scotland to Land's End. But some of those rivers of fire didn't stop there. They went right across the Channel and didn't stop there. They went right across the Channel and spread out into the Continent."

Little pinpricks of light. Starting in the north of our land, and spreading south.

Twenty years later the Lord made it clear that she was to come up here: and she did.

She said there would be three main features of this move of God.

The first would be men uniting to pray together early in the morning. The second would be large numbers of children, as often as not with no Christian background at all, encountering Jesus. And the third would be the raising up of a host of powerful preachers.

The Lord very often just gets on with his work behind the scenes.

No noise. No fuss.

Just quietly lighting those fires and spreading them down the land.

There are things going on in our land today, in other words, that are signs of the Lord being at work.

Pinpricks of light. Which may yet become great streams of fire.

That's what I'm really involved in these days.

freedom and frustration

Something like normality returned today.

The assembly for the upper school was later than usual. Something else going on earlier on.

It was good to be there again.

I'd taken the chance to write the Head a letter; just to say 'thanks' to the girls and boys of the choir who'd been so great at yesterday's lunch time service - and to let him know what a credit they'd been to the school.

He read the letter out to the whole assembly. It made them feel good, I'm sure.

His theme was 'freedom' again. And today there was a fair bit on the freedom we have to choose. What our actions and words will be. And the impact they have on others.

Another 'word in season' in the face of all the choices that there are in coming days.

It wasn't that long before I was back again for this year's final meeting of the SU group.

Next week there are the elections so there isn't any school: and after that the last month of the summer term is often pretty full. We decided to call it a day today.

Why does God not always answer when we pray to him?

We hadn't intended that that should be the theme. But it was.

They wanted to know.

The lack of the answer we've looked for from God doesn't mean for a moment he hasn't heard: nor does it mean he doesn't care.

I told them a couple of stories to illustrate. About myself, and things that had happened to me.

That seemed to make some sense of things for them. At least a bit.

It tied in, as well, with a lot of what I've sensed the Lord is saying to me too these days.

Sometimes he seems to let the powers of darkness do their worst. He waits until they've really shown their head.

Then deals the fatal blow.

The cross and resurrection sort of thing.

more on 'climate change'

I came across this little gem earlier today, in the context of 'climate change'.

It seemed to me as appropriate in regard to the other sort of 'climate change' that I was on about in yesterday's blog.

It's a quote from George Monbiot, who's a long-time environmentalist: and it came in the course of a live debate on the back of the Indie screenings launch of 'The Age of Stupid' (which we're hoping to screen ourselves in a couple of weeks).

"Let's stop calling it climate change, it's far too mild. It's like calling a foreign invasion 'unwanted visitors'".

In other words, let's waken up to just how serious this whole situation actually is.

In both arenas of so-called 'climate change'.

We're facing a foreign invasion.

climate change

We're intrinsically optimistic, I suspect.

Most people probably rarely realise just how serious the situation is. Until, sometimes, it's too late.

Climate change is a good illustration. Don't worry, it'll all be all right in the end.

We were brought up on fairy-tales, films and stories that consistently had happy endings. They all lived happily ever after.

So we got trained to think - it'll all be fine. Just keep reading.

The film Von Ryan's Express knocked that on the head for me.

It was psychologically damaging. Profoundly so.

The hero died at the end (I'm sorry to spoil the movie if you're about to watch it tonight).

The laid back approach of assuming it'll all be fine is not consistently true.

As I say, most folk don't always see the full gravity of a situation.

Climate change is serious stuff. Far more serious than most people seem to realise. If their actions are anything to judge by.

And it has its sombre parallel in another insidious change that's going on. Whose gravity is still not really recognised at all.

The 'climate' of genuine godliness is changing.

And like that other climate change with which we're now familiar, it's been changing for quite a while. Bit by bit. Almost imperceptibly.

Like that other climate change, it has its roots in the thoughtless self-indulgence of a people who've grown fat and too complacent.

Like that other climate change, the changes that will follow in its wake are large and, in the main, inimical to that which is the truest, fullest welfare of the peoples of our world.

And like that other climate change, as I said at the start, most folk haven't a clue as to just how serious things now are.

They think they've got time to sort things out.

We don't. It's as simple as that.

And as serious as that. The rot has already set in.

* * *

It was good to get back to wee church today!

I was back to take the lunchtime service. The story of Joseph again, and the way in which he finally made himself known to his brothers.

As their brother, their saviour and as lord of all.

A timely reminder of how it is that Jesus, too, makes himself known to us.

The children from the choir of the local primary school were in to sing to the folk over lunch.

They were superb. An absolute credit, as always, to their school. And they quite made the day and the week and the month for the folk who were there.

This is what wee church is all about. Jesus with the people, old and young alike.

Making him known. From the Scriptures.

Why should that be jeopardised by all the sort of 'climate change' that big church has been fostering?

pain and shame

For the avoidance of any doubt, I am not speaking to the media through this post: nor is this a 'press release'.

Sorry. I have to cover myself now. Such are the depths to which things have sunk in big church.

But for a timely intervention in yesterday's debate, there might even have been a question of there being certain parts of the Bible on which we are not allowed to preach.

If I thought yesterday was about as bad as it could get with big church, though, I was wrong.

Today was worse.

We had the sight of a prominent minister entertaining the public galleries, and milking their guffaws for all he was worth, with the narrative of his pre-marital sexual activity with his wife.

Not with any shame. But with enthusiastic approbation.

Not with the intent of warning against the error in such a course. But rather to commend it.

Big church seemed to love it. Some of us wanted to leave.

Most folk laughed quite raucously. Some of us silently wept.

The picture that I had in my mind was of Jesus so cruelly nailed to the cross, securing for himself thereby a bride (not a partner) whom he would make pure and holy.

I felt his pain.

disillusioned

There was an e-mail awaiting me this morning from a lady who's attending big church for the first time.

She was surprised and shocked and left totally at a loss by what had gone on on Saturday night.

And she signed herself off 'a very disillusioned commissioner'.

Today will not have helped her, I fear.

There was an 'overture' (aka a motion) from folk from Lochcarron and Skye which sought to give big church the chance to address the whole matter of the appropriate context of a sexual relationship at the level of principle and to make it clear what the standards are we affirm.

It was scheduled for 4pm.

By 7pm, without being addressed at all, it had finally been withdrawn.

A wise move, some will say. It might have been contentious.

Clever, others will say. A neat little bit of manoeuvring which avoids an awkward debate.

But what does it say about a church, I wonder, when the one group of people who have sought to have big church address the matter in a principled sort of way are the one group of people whose motion is never heard?

And who, instead, get shunted out of the way.

hamstrung

On the way to big church this morning, I stopped to speak with a beggar, sitting at the foot of a long set of stairs. My leading foot hit a slippery patch and was sucked way out ahead of me.

End result - I was lieing beside this beggar, his early morning 'takings' scattered everywhere, and unable to rise to my feet.

Hamstrung is the word, I believe. Either pulled or torn, and the sciatic nerve all stretched.

Crippled is another word.

By the end of the day when big church had debated the case which has been in all of the press, it seemed like my physical condition provided a very graphic picture of the place that I find myself in.

A searing pain in my spirit. And a sense that my movements in furthering the kingdom of God have been significantly curtailed.

The vote at the end of the case last night was hard to stomach. The effect is hard to bear.

Big church has made its decision in a case that's assumed in the eyes of the watching world the notoriety of a 'test case': and in the very next breath, so we're meant to suppose, big church is saying, 'No, we haven't decided anything'.

Commonly called a 'fudge', which cleverly seeks to keep us all 'on side' with all these generous re-assuring words.

Most of us live in the real world, though.

And subtly constructed ecclesiastical distinctions along those lines are lost on a world that hears what it wants to hear (unless you spell it out in quite unequivocal terms - and even then there's no guarantee that it'll do any more than hear what it wants to hear).

A line has been drawn. A choice has been made. A course has been set.

Real world people can figure that out for themsleves.

And it leaves me feeling ... 'hamstrung'.

I must try to get some sleep now with tomorrow's wee church worship coming up.

looking up

Day 2 at big church.

This is the day when big church sort of tackles all the problems of the world. Well, not quite, I guess, but it feels a bit like that.

And no bad thing, of course. It's right that there's that genuine concern for justice and compassion in all the many areas of our life and our society.

It makes for quite a long day though. There are quite a lot of problems in the world, for one thing. And quite a lot of people in the hall who want to speak. And most of them get given the chance.

So a day for a good deal of listening, when it would be easy to get depressed by the volume of need that there is.

But outside the hall where big church has all its wide-ranging big debates, outside the hall there are wee church types of moments which in many ways top the lot.

Like today when I put in my coat at the start of the day (well, not quite the start, I'd been at a funeral first) - I chanced to meet a man there whom I'd first met maybe 25 years ago.

Back then this guy was in the 'Gospel Hall', and his daughter was at the school where I was chaplain. Largely because of me, he said, he'd left the 'Gospel Hall', and here he was, a Church of Scotland chaplain with the forces.

He told me of how so often it's in the darkest, hardest, scariest sorts of times that young men come to faith. He instanced a few. And he told me as well of his running an Alpha course a while ago in a pub where the publican came to faith.

It was thrilling to hear of the way the Lord works in the lives of so many folk. That's real 'church without walls' sort of stuff he said. The way it's meant to be.

There were others as well that I met with from my sort of 'former life'. And others, too, I got chatting with from different congregations I've had contact with across these latter years.

I went up for a coffee in the room that's really set aside for big church's Mr Big. This wasn't a case of gate-crashing, I hasten to add.

I was there by invitation!

But not from Mr. Big, I confess. He was away doing his stuff. It was the guy who heads up all of the stewards and folks - he asked me in and gave me the coffee and cake.

The most fruitful part of the day, though, was the lengthy hour-long session that I had over lunch with a guy I've got to know just a bit.

I'd been up and awake for hours last night as I pondered the 'issue' that's down on the cards for tomorrow. I'd begun to see how the thing might best be tackled, and I wanted to run what I'd thought before this guy.

This guy is a lawyer, I should say. So he knows the legal ins and outs of things like this.

We both felt there was progress being made. It felt like the Lord was showing a way to proceed.

There are moments like that in a busy, noisy coffee house on the city's ancient High Street when, right in the midst of the hubbub all around, you're really aware of the Lord himself being there.

So now I've got to get down to some thorough preparation.

Tomorrow's important and I need to be well prepared.

It's big church, wee church stuff in many ways. At least it feels a bit like that.

Goliath the giant and David the gangling young lad. Big man, wee man.

David believed that the Lord was far bigger than any big man he might face. But he did his preparation. He figured out the weak spot and he went and got his stones.

Today feels a bit like that.

So I'm off to the 'river' right now to pick up those 'stones': the little lines of argument that may yet win the day.

'mixed-up kid'

Big church was on today. All day.

I got cornered by a journalist at lunchtime and had an interesting conversation with the guy. Off the record for the moment.

He'd approached me because I had spoken during the course of the morning's debates.

The order in which things would be taken on Saturday night was being discussed. And I was keen that the stated order be reversed. So that the delicate, sensitive principle could be debated outwith a context fraught with all sorts of pastoral pressures. I'd spoken to that effect.

And to no avail! Which was not entirely unexpected, I'm bound to say.

However, the journalist wanted to chat.

Did I think the vote on the order was indicative of the way the vote would go on Saturday night?

No. And I explained why.

And I explained what the issues were, in a way that was plainly new to him.

He kept on writing things down: and I kept on having to say to him that this was off the record (and I explained why I wanted that, too). But no, this was not to take a record of what I was saying, but to note things down for himself. Things that he hadn't ever thought of before, things that he'd found illuminating, helpful and clear.

We chatted around the subject for almost half an hour and before very long we'd drifted on to the heart of what the good news is all about. I was tempted to say, come along and see!

He ended by saying he'd never met anyone quite like me, saying - "You're the first militant, liberal conservative I've ever met!"

Which I began to think on reflection was maybe his polite and complicated way of saying he thought me a totally 'mixed-up kid'!

Which I am in some ways. But I hope not on issues like this.

There's a need for some clear-headed thinking. The ability to get to the heart of the issue at stake and see where the nub of the argument actually lies.

And then to be willing to speak. And to be able to put it in ways that are winsome, compelling and wise.

Which is another way of saying that I'm very, very conscious of the need for God's great Holy Spirit to be poured upon my life on Saturday night not least.

Those of you who pray, please pray for that!

Before then, though, there's a lot to do.

Like a baptism here on Sunday and the folk to see in connection with that.

And a whole host of e-mails requiring replies of some sortr.

And a funeral also, tomorrow.

I hadn't prepared the service so had all of that to do.

Wee church things, in other words. Matters of life and death.

That puts it all in perspective, I guess. It's here at the level of local church ... it's here where it all really happens.

I don't know the man who died. I can't think I ever had met the man (he was only here for a year).

But I know the family a bit. Mainly through the school.

Sheep without a shepherd sort of thing in many ways. And therefore glad of my help and guidance through the sorrows of these days.

Bit by bit the ties which put these people here in touch with me may serve as well to put them, too, in touch with Jesus Christ.

That's what I'm praying for them as they gather tomorrow.

grace, truth and the cross of Christ

Another full and busy day.

Some lengthy meetings with different folk, some varied preparation on a load of different fronts, and some fruitful conversations with a range of different people through the day.

A day with worship at its centre, where the lunch-time service had us focus on Judah's pleading before Joseph in Egypt and saw us challenged to evidence in our lives as well that lovely combination of both grace and truth which is seen so supremely in Jesus.

A timely word for myself as the General Assembly begins tomorrow morning. Grace and truth. The need to hold the two of them together.

And a day which had at its end a funeral visit. A family from the village here whom I know through the school more than anything else. And who've not had their troubles to seek.

The funeral's on Friday morning. So I'll have to find some time to do the preparation needed for that too.

Maybe the visit was sort of a sign from the Lord as well. Here is a family mixed up in all sorts of ways. The grace of God is all about renewal, disentangling all the complicated knots there are and setting us free to live.

The family of God's got itself in a mess as well. There's a lot of disentangling now to do.

And maybe it takes a death in some way to secure it.

A cross is symbol we use, after all.

Death is what renewal cost.

big church wee church

Bill Hybels is pretty well known these days throughout the Christian church.

He's the senior (and founding) pastor of Willowcreek Community Church in Chicago, USA.

I've never formally met him, though I did once hear him speak. A powerful, moving address it was as well. And a bit disconcerting to hear him admit in the course of what he said that preaching was not one of his top three 'gifts'.

But that's by the by. What he said back then (this was years ago now), and what he continues to say whenever he gets the chance, is something along these lines - the local church is the hope of the world.

I'm committed to that truth as well.

The local church is where it really happens. So far as the work and the purpose of God is always concerned.

I'm more persuaded than ever of that these days.

What goes on at the heart of the whole big institution called 'the church' is not what drives our life.

It's what the Lord is doing at the level of the local church - it's that which really counts.

When 'big church' meets this week there's no compelling reason why the things that it decides should serve to jeopardise in any way the work that goes on here. 'Wee church', if you like.

But I don't want the work of wee church here to be compromised either by the line that big church takes. By being tarred in the eyes of the public with the same brush.

God's heart is with the 'wee guys'. He doesn't do 'big' so much.

The local church is the hope of the world.

I'm committed to that.

And because of that commitment, a lot of my time through today has been spent in addressing the issues which big church is going to present.

Telephone conversations with a number of folk in relation to what I want to say about the order in which things are taken at big church's big Assembly.

Decide the case first, is the line that they take: and then discuss the principle.

At least that's how it comes across to an average punter like me. Back to front and upside down entirely. Like quite a lot of things in big church.

And I want to challenge that. As do quite a number of others, I've come to realise. So I've been in touch with a number of folk. Not exactly conspiring together. Just trying to get our act together.

Wee guys, committed to wee church. And trying to get big church to think again.

There have been a number of e-mails as well to write. Fairly lengthy things. Responding to concerns, questions and a fair amount of confusion in the minds and hearts of many wee church people.

It'd be nice to be able to produce a standard answer. But the questions are very varied, the concerns are differently worded and the confusion is very personal.

They need individual attention. And that takes a lot of time.

It's a form, I suppose, of 'electronic' teaching. Explaining the thrust of the Scriptures and working them through in relation to all of the issues folk want to address. One-to-one instruction in the form of e-mail dialogue.

My 'chaplain' was here today. This was the visit I should have been having a couple of weeks ago. Except I got myself double-booked.

I was saying to her that there are two different things I see myself called to do.

One is to teach and explain the Scriptures, expounding the content as best I can and informing the minds and the hearts of the people here as to what God's Scriptures teach.

The other thing I have to do is help folk learn themselves to think biblically. Knowing the content of Scripture is not quite the same.

Learning to think biblically is the heart of our wee church worship.

At least that's what I think one of Jesus' early friends called Paul was on about when he said that our 'reasonable worship' lay in our minds being renewed and transformed by the Spirit of God.

Wee church is where that happens: and wee guys slay the giants.

Wee church is really what changes the world.

fellowship of the ring

The week promises to be rather 'short'.

I have to attend the day by day meetings of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland from Thursday morning onwards.

That takes a good few days out of the frame itself, of course. And then, as well, there's a fair amount of preparation for these meetings that's required. Which eats into the left over time. If not devours it.

There are reports to be read, 'orders of business' to figure out. And the need to work out just when is the right time to raise a point and what I'm going to say.

And life goes on as normal. It's just that my attempts at dealing with all of life get compressed into what's left of three short days (instead of the usual seven). Which isn't much!

Today's been full of meetings. A meeting here to give thought to some of the local issues we need to address in a changing situation. Practical issues to do with the way our premises here are run.

And then later on a meeting through in Glasgow in connection with the coming General Assembly. Exploring the sort of options that there are to ensure that the challenging message of Jesus gets out to our land, come what may.

Cheap day tickets and all meant I wasn't back from that afternoon meeting until well on into the evening. And after that there was loads of admin stuff to be caught up with.

I got called at night (about 10pm) by a man from up north, who'd got wind of the fact that I was concerned about the order things were being taken in at the coming General Assembly. He, too, has been concerned and is putting a motion forward. Would I be prepared to 'second' his motion, and speak to the thing as well? If asked or invited, of course.

All of a sudden I'm meeting, and getting to know on the hoof, a host of (for me) new folk. There's widespread concern in these days. And an embryonic 'fellowship' is emerging, a group of relative strangers who, up and down the land, are resolved to ensure the message of the Bible's not distorted and its radical imperatives fulfilled.

Not quite 'Lord of the Rings' sort of thing. But not far off.

truth and freedom

The summer term is always slightly different along at the primary school.

There are all the Monday holidays, trips and outings, and even election days (there's one coming up on June 4th in case you hadn't noticed!). And as a result it's sometimes a week or two between my visits.

So it was good to be back today. A couple of times.

The assemblies last week had both been called off (something else going on in the halls). But today we were back with a P1-3 assembly.

'Freedom' is the theme this month. The value that the head is keen to teach.

He stressed that the rights we enjoy can only be had when we recognise too the real responsibilities we have as well. Fail to deliver the latter and everyone's rights are affected.

Fairly basic stuff. Freedom isn't anarchy. (He didn't put it like that, of course!)

Being free to do as we like in an absolute sense, being free to do as we feel inclined or as our instincts tell us we must ... well, that just doesn't work. There are - and have to be - constraints.

It isn't the jungle we live in, where it's every one for themselves.

I'm always glad of the chance to sit in there with the children, I have to say. The time for reflection is good.

I was speaking to one of the girls in P2 as both they and I arrived.

"Why do you come to our assembly?" she asked.

"I don't want to miss the fun!" I replied. "And I always want to learn."

Which is true. Most of the time what the head has to say on the theme of the month is a message it's helpful to hear.

I was speaking about truth in yesterday's blog. Today it's freedom.

There's a connection, of course.

Jesus spelled it out. "If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples: then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free."

The truth will set you free.

I spend my life teaching the truth. For that reason. Anarchy isn't freedom. Discipleship is.

The SU group were meeting along at the school today again. The usual lunch-time thing.

There weren't that many there, but the three or four who'd come had brought along a friend. A Moslem girl.

The teacher with whom I lead the group was anxious about her being there since she hadn't really asked her parents about coming along. He was ready to turn her away.

I suggested not. We were reading the story of the prophet Elijah. In the Old Testament Scriptures which Islam treats as one of its holy books.

And we weren't really pushing a 'party' line at all. Just reading the Scriptures and learning the lessons it taught.

Elijah was one who was truly 'free'.

But his right to be free from the tyranny Ahab, the king at the time, was imposing was bound up entirely with his gladly submitting to God.

He did what God said. And insisted that others did too, declaring what God had revealed in the Scriptures they long since had had.

It was hard, for sure. A risky way to live his life you might have thought. A costly course to follow day by day.

But the man was free. He did what God said. He lived the life of the kingdom. Discipleship.

And the birds which came and fed him day by day - they too were 'free'. But the birds themselves were following holy orders. God commanded the birds to feed his prophet Elijah. And they did.

"You've a right to be free. But, hey, you birds, you've got a responsibility here as well: go feed my man Elijah!"

They followed the teaching. They 'knew the truth'. And the truth set them free.

Freedom.

It's been an interesting day, when one way and another God's been answering prayer and on all sorts of fronts progressing his purposes here.

It's involved for me a whole load of varied telephone calls, and e-mail correspondence, and trips to the local hospital, and visits to folk at night, and some fairly in-depth discussion about some very pressing issues here.

And bit by bit the way ahead has slowly opened up.

The Lord is on the move, these days.

Much as he was in the days of Elijah as well, perhaps.

And when God's on the move you don't want to get in his way.

You don't want to be a hindrance to the forward march of God. You don't want to step out of line. You don't want to be trying to be doing your own thing.

You march in time or you don't get to go. You get on board or you miss the boat.

"Hold to my teaching .. the truth will set you free."

the issue

I rarely read a newspaper.

Sometimes I'll squint through the sports pages. But mostly I simply don't look at a newspaper from one week's end to another.

Today I remembered why.

I was fed by some folk a couple of lengthy articles that there have been in the recent press. One from The Times and one from yesterday's Scotsman.

Both were directed towards the upcoming General Assembly the Church of Scotland holds in a week or two's time. And both took a similar line, I suppose, though one was more comment, the other a sort of report.

It's the subtle distortions of fact that always end up annoying me so much: and confusing such a lot of the punters.

Here's an example of what I mean. This is The Times online, referring to the case of 'an openly gay minister whose appointment last year to a parish church has caused divisions' -

"The Church of Scotland is due to debate his appointment at its General Assembly next week after a petition was signed by almost a third of ministers pushing for all gays to be banned from the pulpit"

It reads as if the peitition is what has triggered the Assembly debate. Which, of course, is not how it is at all.

It's the other way round. The petition (if that's what you call it - and that's debatable too) has only arisen because the matter is to be debated at the Assembly.

There's a difference. And it's an important one.

Like who really started the stouche? Which 'side', as it were, in the argument was first to step out of line? Who were the ones to break rank?

Let's at least get our facts all right.

And that means seeing that it's simply not true to declare that there's somehow this huge big 'push' "for all gays to be banned from the pulpit".

That's simply not true. A subtle, unhelpful distortion which misses the point entirely. There's no such push and no such wish at all.

That's not what the whole debate is really about.

It misses, for one thing, the vital distinction between sexual orientation and sexual activity.

Morality has little to do with, and little to say on, the former. But it has everything to do with the latter.

The issue is not about a homosexual man at all. It's not about our sexuality so much as about morality. And on what that morality's based.

When I read the piece in The Scotsman, written by a Church of Scotland minister, I thought you could have been forgiven for thinking that the final authority for Christian morality is the UN Declaration of Human Rights, with Articles 1 and 2 being quoted in full.

Have we decided to dispense with the Bible? I thought, as I read the thing. Have I missed a trick along the way?

But no. To be fair to the man, he got on to the Bible next. Although I noted the order.

He quoted the 'Letter of John', exhorting us all to love. (He could have quoted a lot of places along pretty similar lines).

Classic Beatles theology: All you need is love.

And so, getting onto his theme of love, the man waded in -

"If the Church says a gay person cannot be a minister of the gospel....."

Woah! Woah! Same mistake again.

That's not what the church is being asked to declare That's not what the so-called petition is all about. That's not the issue is at all.

And it clearly wasn't a slip of the tongue (or the finger across the keyboard). He was back on exactly that line again later on -

"When a national institution, like the Church, publicly states homosexual people are not good enough to become ministers of Word and Sacrament....."

But no-one is saying that. That's distorting the thing entirely.

In fact that first part of his sentence is so full of distorted, unhelpful thinking, it's hard to know where to start.

Like, he seems to suggest that because we're a 'national institution' we have a responsibility to the nation, as though our values and standards must be drawn from and must in some way reflect the tenor of national life.

Like, he seems to suggest that the church somehow thinks that certainly some people somewhere are 'good enough' to become ministers of the gospel: as though we had some kind of league of Christian piety and the ones at the top get automatic promotion to the premier league of ministry, and the ones who've 'come out' get a massive points deduction.

None of us make the grade. None of us measure up. That's not what the thing is about at all.

And certainly not what he suggests is being said, that "homosexual people are not good enough to become ministers".

No one is good enough.

And no one's suggesting that some folk get banned from this ministry on account of their sexual orientation. It's not about our sexuality at all.

It's about morality. And whence our view of morality is derived.

I know the Beatles sang the song. And I liked it myself, for all that it's a bit repetitive. All you need is love.

I know, as well, that Augustine once said something like "Love God and do what you like". And I know, or at least I vaguely remember, enough church history to know that Augustine was one of the 'goodies', clever, wise, and basically on the button.

But to think that this line somehow settles the thing once for all would have made even poor old Augustine turn in his grave. He said what he did because he knew what Jesus meant when he said "If you love me you will obey my commandments".

And though Jesus certainly welcomed folk, regardless of who they were or what they'd been, that welcome was never a license to do as they pleased.

He let the rich young ruler walk away, after all. It wasn't quite terms and conditions that Jesus laid down. But it wasn't an easy soft option he offered either.

You want to follow me? Then this is what it'll mean.

It's costly. Very costly. And for the rich young man, too costly.

'Morality' always is. 'Ministry' always is. Costly.

Jesus didn't go running back after the man and say he'd shift the God-given goalposts just a bit to make it a whole lot easier for the man.

Despite the fact that he loved the man, we're told.

The issue's not about love so much as truth. And where that truth is found. And how that truth's interpreted.

The newspapers don't really help. You can see why I don't read them much!

storms

The weather is deceptive.

Today, like yesterday, has been bright with clear blue skies. Shirt-sleeve sort of stuff, with not a lot of wind.

But it's not what the 'spiritual' weather's been like at all. Anything but.

There are storms already assailing God's work: and the forecast isn't good.

More storms are on their way. And they're likely to be worse and more ferocious than the present ones.

So a lot of my time through today has been spent in relation to storms. A sort of 'battoning down of the hatches'. Trying to make the place secure as it were, in the face of the buffeting winds.

There have been all the usual tasks, of course.

Doing all the chores in the kitchen to comply with all the rules. Temperature checks, that sort of thing. Getting the first lot of dishes and pans all washed. And making the soups first thing, it being a Tuesday.

Then vacuuming up the whole of the eating area to make the place presentable. We try to ensure that everyone coming in is struck right away by how good the place looks and how warm the whole ethos is.

We have loads of folk coming in most days. And the contact we have is really great.

There's a group of older ladies who come in now for their coffee (the ones who used to meet in a pub 'til the pub kind of turfed them out: purely on economic grounds, I hasten to add!). They love it here.

And they love not least the welcome they receive. I generally try and stop and chat with them for a bit. And I think they like that too.

It's how all good relationships are formed. Those short repeated moments when we get to stop and be with folk and have the chance to talk.

The chat is light at first, of course. Light and full of laughter.

But they're soon aware that we're there for them and so it's sometimes not that long before some greater depths are plumbed.

There was a couple in today like that. They popped in first a few months back. Out of the blue. And liked it a lot. The welcome, the food, the atmosphere, the brightness of the place.

They've been back off and on across the months. And, like it's been with the group of older ladies, they feel very much at home and enjoy the warmth of the fun and the friendship they find.

As I say, it's not been heavy or remotely 'deep' or 'spiritual'. Just good and genuine friendship. And a load of fun as well.

A few months back the man had cancer diagnosed. And a few weeks back the extent of the cancer he has was found to be far worse than what he maybe first had feared.

A matter of weeks to live.

He was touched by the fact that, in at the hospital getting some nasty treatment to ease the pain, he'd received a card from someone here.

And touched as well by the fact that I'd been in to see him there a couple of times myself.

The conversation had shifted gear, of course. No longer simply light. Issues of life and death were now the very centre of his day by day existence. Storms have arrived for him as well.

But he knew he had a friend. And that he could talk.

He's an ill, ill man. But he and his wife chose to come here again for their lunch.

The place and the people afford them a sense of the presence and love of the Lord.

And for folk like that there's nothing they need much more than simply that. Meeting and knowing the Lord.

Being assured of his love and his care, through the obvious care that is shown in the way that this place and the people are treated.

Sensing again there's an order behind all the chaos and turmoil they're facing each day in their lives: the sense that the Lord is in charge, the peace that he alone gives.

The place is an outpost of heaven. At least that's what we see it as being and work day by day to create.

And a day like today when a couple like that come for lunch, I find it very moving. Meeting and finding the Lord in the darkness and mist of the last few weeks of life.

It's the Lord who makes it happen. Sure.

But it doesn't happen magically. We have to work at it all the time.

And the 'storms' that I mentioned right at the start, we have to see in the context of all that the Lord is accomplishing here in our midst.

And maybe as well, beyond and around all the storms is the wind of the Spirit of God. At work in ways which thus far can't be seen or understood.

It makes for some pretty long days. And some long and sleepless nights as well from time to time.

Though I started this just after 10, I was soon on the phone from a man up north who called me at half past ten. He'd been trying to get me a couple of times throughout the early evening.

It was nearly 11 by the time we were done on the phone.

The storms are blowing across the land: the wind of the Spirit of God is stirring again.