three deceased

It's late already, but the night, I suspect, has barely begun. I've at least another two hours' work to do.

Three men have all died.

It's strange, in some ways, how similar all of them are. All men. All elderly, late eighties or into their nineties. All fine family men. All with a notable life of service behind them. All men of some distinction.

Which makes it a bit confusing as well, with all of their funeral services still to come. At least potentially confusing, as I listen to the praise the families want, and gather all the details of these long, illustrious lives.

For a guy like me, well past the age of 40, it's a job to remember which details belong to whom!

Today has been spent, in large part, preparing for all of these services still to come. I've spent time with two of the families, going over the way that they want the service to be, and reflecting at length on their loved one no longer around.

These sorts of visits take time. And rightly so. Grief is not a thing you ever rush. And a life well lived is a life that needs to be savoured.

The family with whom I spent time in the morning is one that I've known for the last twenty yeas and more. A warm and lovely family, with whom it's always a joy to spend some time.

They've not had it easy in life. But the warmth of their welcome and the richness of friendship they always so kindly extend is itself a reminder of all that this man truly was.

At times like this, it isn't hard to recognise how sacred is the ground that grief creates. The Lord is very present and his grace in Christ is everywhere apparent.

I don't take off my shoes. But it most times feels like I should.

The other family I know less well, though the man who's died and his wife I've got to know a bit across the years. It's the first time that I've met his childen - albeit now they're well on in their adult years, retired themselves, or just about to do so in the next few years.

But it was good to have time this afternoon reflecting, too, with them, on all their loved one's been. A man of considerable stature, in all sorts of ways.

Again, such times as this are dignified by not being rushed at all. The flow of the river of sorrow and loss requires to be gentle and long.

But the really long work is the time that I'm finally managing to take just now to prepare for the first of these services of thanksgiving which takes place tomorrow.

At least there's no one around any more, so no interruptions at all!

Just time in the presence of God. And the chance to be still and to hear what it is that he means to be doing and saying when people all gather tomorrow.

Grief is a hungry emotion and needs a lot of time.

the evil day

The sort of thing I've been gently suggesting the last few 'posts' was reinforced again today.

As there are seasons in the annual cycle of earth's rotation round the sun, so there are 'seasons' as well in the bit-by-bit outworking of the purpose of the Lord.

Times when in a real and urgent way 'opportunity knocks'. Actually, it's the Lord himself who comes knocking. And the opportunity's there to welcome him in and enjoy his transforming power.

At times like that the powers of darkness kick into gear as well. There are forces of evil at work in our world, and they don't go a bomb on what God is intent on securing. They kick up a fuss and wreak their own rotten havoc wherever, however, and just whenever they can.

One of Jesus' early friends and followers was a guy called Paul. He was clever. Intelligent. A brilliant mind which enabled him to argue the socks off most folk.

Anything but a nutter, in other words.

Anyway, this guy Paul spoke in terms of there being sometimes what he called 'the evil day'. Seasons, that is, when so much was at stake, and the Lord was so much on the move, that all hell's best resources were flung at the people of God.

A kind of last ditch stand, an all-or-nothing, all-guns-blazing, take-no-prisoner bombardment of the followers of Jesus who'd become the ones through whom the Lord was patently at work.

If you want to know what it looked like, then Paul was a good guy to ask. He knew first hand the sort of thing it involved. (It doesn't make for pretty bedtime reading).

There are 'seasons' which bring such a thing. The 'evil day'.

We're living, I think, in times like that just now in our land.

Some of you reading this post may not have a clue what I'm on about.

And if that's the case then part of me thinks - be thankful! You don't really want to know this yourself too much.

But a part of me's thinking - be careful! It's maybe because you're not that much of a threat to the powers of darkness that they don't waste their time on you.

Stick close to Jesus, live full on for Jesus, and I guarantee, sooner or later, one way or another, you'll find out about such 'evil days'.

I encountered this sort of phenomenon in three different situations today.

Three different people. All of them speaking of things in their lives where what was being faced is quite hellish. Evil days.

I was chatting to folk who'd come in for their coffee this morning. And before very long the chat had gone way below the surface. A fourteen year old child whose father got ill and then died.

That happens. It's grievous and sore and it's tragic all right, but it happens. It's what comes in on the back of that that's really, really hard.

The malignant endeavours of hell itself to use such a dreadful thing to impugn the name of the Lord. To get such a child to turn her back on the One who alone can afford her the real security, strength and comfort she needs.

Hellish.

I won't go into the details of the other two. Suffice it to say they were both again pastoral situations where the individuals concerned have been exposed to a wretchedly 'evil day'. A combination of dreadful, horrendous circumstances, one thing piled on another.

All hell let loose on their lives.

And when I wrote (yesterday) about running around addressing the 'fires' on the rim of some great volcano, it's this sort of thing that I mean.

The fires of war, as the Lord moves his kingdom forward in the face of the pit of hell.

There's an awful lot more to come.

feeling the heat

Last week was way too busy. Events beyond my control.

And I kept on resolving as each day went by - next week there'll be more time to pause and think.

"Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow" - to quote the bard himself (MacBeth, in the title role of Shakespeare's play).

Well, I'm into 'next week'. And things aren't looking all that different!

On top of the usual list of things to do, the fixtures in my average week, I've already got two additional services all lined up in the wake of two of our older members having passed away.

And today another of our elderly men, another man up in his nineties, passed away. The nursing home called and when I rang back they told me the man was almost done. I was round pretty much straightaway, but the man was already dead.

I took some time on my own in his room with the man. Or his corpse, to be more precise. The man was no longer there. Though outwardly he looked pretty much as he'd always looked these last few years as he lay there on his bed, but the life had departed.

A picture, perhaps, of the church.

Outwardly everything's fine. But inside, the bits you don't really see ... inside, I wonder, perhaps it's the case that the life has in large part departed.

The life of the Spirit of God.

Samson (you remember him? The strong man with the flowing locks who accomplished so much by the power of the Spirit of God): Samson, for instance - he didn't really realise until too late that the Spirit of God had gone, had quietly packed up his bags and left on the overnight train with barely a word of farewell.

I sometimes wonder if that's really part (maybe all) of the reason I find myself running around through these days, chasing my tail and chasing the clock and sort of chasing the end of the rainbow. A pretty fruitless exercise.

The treadmill's getting faster, and it's harder keeping up.

Is that because the Spirit of God has withdrawn, and I'm left trying to do what he does?

Or is it because these are days when all of a sudden the battle's been finally engaged?

Like a couple of heavy-weight boxers, who've been sparring in a rather cagey manner for who knows how many rounds ... and then suddenly the punches are flying and they're going at it hammer and tong.

Or like those indoor cyclists who go slowly round the velodrome, circuit after circuit, eyeing each other up until all of a sudden the action explodes and their feet and their legs are all pumping like nothing on earth.

The battle is finally engaged.

I think there's something of that in these days. And I sense it will only get worse.

The fires on the rim of the great volcano crater are starting to burn. But the volcano itself has still to erupt.

Maybe it's both. The corpse and the crater.

The corpse of the church from which the Spirit has left - and my wearisome efforts to run ever harder to try and keep everything going. It feels like that, at least some of the time.

And the crater of spiritual conflict across our land in these days, where the fires on the rim which are starting to burn are the crises requiring attention.

But those patches of flame on the rim of this great volcano are also the notice being served on us all that the fires of the Lord's Holy Spirit are about to erupt once again.

The landscape's about to be changed. Volcanoes have that effect.

There's a sense in these days that the whole extensive landscape of church life throughout our nation will be changed: perhaps beyond all recogition.

Dramatically re-configured by a powerful eruption of the blazing fires of God's own holy anger and his holy heart of love.

Life on the rim of the crater when the fires begin to push through is hot and hard and very, very dangerous.

That's where I think I'm at these days. And that's why I'm feeling the heat.

another rule of thumb

Here's another 'rule of thumb' to add to the others I gave.

If I haven't posted anything here for a good few days it'll generally be for one of the following good reasons -

1. I've died.

2. I'm on holiday.

3. I don't have internet access.

4. I've sliced all my fingers off in the mower while cutting the grass.

5. I've just become a grandfather and am still on cloud nine.

6. I'm struggling with things too personal, private or highly confidential to be shared in this 'public' arena.

7. I'm rushed off my feet.

Unless you've assumed I'm really 'ghost-writing' this blog, you can rule out number 1 as the reason for there being no post these last few days.

You'll have to take my word for it that I'm not in fact on holiday; and you'd probably have heard the whoops of glee if I'd finally become a grandfather! The baby's not due for another month, anyway.

Most of the time the absence of posts on this blog is explained by 6 and 7. This recent spell of cyberspace silence is a case in point. More 7 than 6, but a bit of the latter as well.

Busy in other words. Too busy to 'blog': which means (I know, I know) too busy.

There are signs on the motorway you sometimes see which say

TIREDNESS CAN KILL

Busy-ness can lead to some similar disastrous effects.

It did today. It led on my part to a deeply regrettable mistake. A lapse of memory. I omitted to include an item at a funeral which the family had specifically asked I'd read.

These things happen, I know. No one's perfect. We all make mistakes.

But I still felt dreadful at failing the family like that. You don't really get a second chance with occasions like that.

The rest of the service was fine. And most of those present would simply not know there had been an omission at all.

But the family .. well, they were aware. And upset, I can well imagine. Deeply upset.

And it was pure and simple my busy-ness that led to such a lapse. I know that. It wouldn't normally have happened. It happened because I've been chasing the clock all week.

I wrote them a letter immediately, expressing my real regret and apologising profusely. I can't undo the past. I don't get a second chance. And I took the letter round to the house later on and spoke to the person in person.

I'm praying hard as well that the Lord will over-rule. His grace is such he makes even our memory lapses, failures and sin to work for his good and his glory in others' lives.

But the reason remains that busy-ness.

And it's all really part of the days in which we live. The crises that seem to arise. The fires that require to be doused.

Days of spiritual conflict. The Lord at work and all hell being daily let loose.

hard-hat living

As a basic rule of thumb, you can generally bank on the fact that when the Lord is at work, all hell is swiftly let loose.

As another rule of thumb, whenever all hell is let loose, it's targeted on the weakest, most vulnerable parts.

The devil's not daft. Mean, sure: ruthless, yes: and never afraid to hit below the belt.

But not daft. He goes for where we're weakest.

And there's been a fair lot of that these past few days in the lives of different people. A good deal of time has been taken up attending to consequent wounds.

It means, though, the Lord is at work!

It would be great to be able to simply sit back and enjoy watching Jesus at work in a comfortable, trouble-free way. But it doesn't ever work like that.

Enjoying the Lord means a 'hard-hat' life. The only 'flat-liners' you get are when churches are totally dead.

God calling

Here's a striking example of what our life, as followers of Jesus, indwelt by his Spirit, so often involves.

There was someone I needed to see today.

The person involved has had all sorts of things to be dealing with over the months. It's not been easy at all. And this was another big crisis. Out of the blue.

The person has not been involved all that much in the life of the church for many a year. The fringes of things at best, I would think.

And over the months with all that the person's been facing, there's not been much room in her life for the presence of Christ. I mean, she's struggled to see, if he's there, why he's let all this stuff come her way.

This morning, though, she was forcibly struck by a clear and remarkable sense of the Lord simply speaking with her and making it clear it was time now she got back to church.

A strange and most striking experience. Not one she'd had in her life before, so real and intense and up front was the thing.

And no sooner had that come her way than the telephone rang. I was ringing to fix up a time I could call by and see her myself. For her it was like a second small sign from the Lord. His speaking directly: and then quickly following it up with a call from the person I guess she relates most of all to the Lord in her mind.

It was powerful stuff. And a clear sort of sign to this person that God was right in there, among all the chaos there is in her life at this time.

Which in a strange sort of way is a message we all need to hear. There's a lot that's fairly chaotic right now in the big church scene. A turbulent, difficult time.

But the Lord is at work! Of that I've no doubt. The place is alive with the sense and the signs of his presence and power and work.

Pentecost

Some interesting things are happening here these days.

We've been looking at Acts chapters 1 and 2 these last few Sunday evenings.

The day of Pentecost. When Parthians and Medes, and people from Mesopotamia - and scores of others from all sorts of far flung places - all of them came together and heard the mighty deeds of God being told in a language they understood.

It seems we're having our own sort of day of Pentecost here as well.

Not Parthians and Medes and people like that. But a sort of up-to-date version. Baptists, Episcopalians, Brethren, and who knows what all else.

Gathering here to share with us in our worship. And finding we speak their language (so to speak)!

It's been really quite remarkable. And I think it is maybe a foretaste of how things will prove to be in days ahead.

Another day of Pentecost. Another sort of birthday, as God does a brand new thing.

Today has seen issues of life and death.

Celebrating life in the birth of a little child. How fragile such life always is! And oh what a need for prayer as our children come into this world.

Life is always fragile. Not just in those early days.

Some time has been spent as well today with a family sharing in grief. We know the lady, whose husband has died, quite well. He's not been well for a while. A young man really, with family all still young.

How hard for them all.

I was glad she wanted the service here in the church. She feels at home among us here - despite the fact she doesn't share in our worship as such at all. And the children feel at home here too, since they've been along with the school, and been along at our Holiday Club as well.

The lady has a brother who's a Benedictine monk. So he'll be taking the service.

It's been good to meet him as well. And to feel an instant rapport with him as well.

So add Benedictine monks to our Pentecostal mix!

There are things going on among us here these days. That's for sure. The Spirit of God is at work.

Disrupting, disturbing, and bringing together all sorts of different people in strange and wonderful ways.

And, yes, there are issues of life and death involved. That's how important these days now are. For all of us.

There are choices to be made. Life .. or death.

It's my earnest prayer that people will learn to choose life. Before it's all too late.

listen

The Lord speaks. Still.

Not always at all what we think or expect. Nor when we expect it as well.

Today I had two quite striking illustrations of just this. The Lord himself speaking with folk.

The first was a person who'd heard through the night some weeks past the Lord simply saying "Just listen."

That's all. Just listen. Keep your ears open. Be ready for what I will say.

That's all that the person had heard.

Until yesterday.

The person concerned had been patiently waiting. And seeking to listen for what the Lord might be saying.

Yesterday, right out of the blue, and in ways that were really quite startling, the Lord made his will very clear. Like there were no two ways about it.

The Lord had made his way clear. The decision was made. And the person was quite at peace about it all. Probably for the first time in months.

I wasn't exactly expecting the news myself. But then again I wasn't entirely surprised.

The Lord is always sovereign. HIs ways past finding out. And when he sets his mind on things, there's simply not a thing that you can do.

Sometimes he seems pretty ruthless in what he does. He's certainly not a soft touch. He's wise and strong and absolutely confident of his supreme ability to bring to pass the daring things he's planned.

Which makes him seem sometimes ruthless. Of course, he's not. Anything but.

But it's scary for us, nonetheless.

He just seems to say all the time, "Trust me."

There's not a lot of options, mind. We have to.

Later on, someone else was in to see me. The Lord had been speaking to this person, too. And again it was striking the way that he'd made his will clear.

The person had been at CLAN ('Christians Linked Across the Nation', a kind of Scottish variation on the New Wine gatherings) in July. There are loads of folk there and loads of good teaching from Scripture.

At one of the sessions, with the speaker expounding Acts, this person had had the distinct and clear sense, right out of the blue, that the Lord was saying "You'll have to learn to drive again!"

The connection with Acts?

Well, absolutely zero.

Had the person just flipped? Anything but. The sense that this was the Lord was more than 100%.

And guess what? A short time later a close relative came into an inheritance and gave this person a substantial sum of money to ... well, go and buy a car!

His words. Though the relative knew nothing at all of what the Lord had been saying back there at CLAN.

What a great encouragement! What a re-assurance!

Precisely what this person has needed in the midst of what's a troubled situation.

The knowledge that God is always that one step ahead. That he always provides. That he's there.

In the beginning was the Word. He's a speaking God.

It's disturbing, the fact that he speaks. Very.

But that's how it is. And, disturbing or not, I wouldn't wish it any other way.

anguish

Clive was in today.

He used to work here, many years ago. A great work, among the young in the local community.

He works now for UCCF, among students here in Edinburgh. And he's recently been off on sabbatical for a good few months.

It was good to see him again and have the chance to catch up. He sometimes works from here, so we've missed him not being around.

Sabbatical is not meant to be a 3 month rest. The guy has been using his time in new and productive ways.

Not least, he's been writing and then been recording a brand new CD album of worship songs. Not really something he's done before. He's a singer and writer, for sure, but it's songs that he sings he's written and sung before.

Click on the picture to check out his 'blog'.

Writing these songs to be sung by the people of God .. well, that's been rather a different sort of thing. Challenging and humbling.

He's struggled with health for a while. And life has not been easy in lots of ways.

But the Lord has been hard at work in his life through it all. And the struggles he's had have very much been in their way the 'womb' from which these brand new songs were birthed.

The pain and the anguish he's known have borne their fruit.

It was good to be able to talk at some length. And humbling to hear how the Lord has been so at work.

I was seeing someone else later on. At quite some length.

We got to talking about this Sunday morning past when the Lord had seemed (to many I think) to be speaking with quite some power. There were people moved to tears. There were people who thought it was not me at all out front.

And people as well, it would seem, who felt just a bit uncomfortable. Who didn't like the 'shouting' sort of thing, as it seemed to them.

I think that was simply the passion with which the message was being preached. The fire of the Spirit of God that burns in my heart.

I think that's how it comes out.

My voice being raised was maybe just the way the Spirit's dynamite explodes in what's being preached.

Or maybe just the cry of pain and anguish in my heart, at how God's name is so dishonoured in these days, being amplified from deep within the heart of God himself.

I came back later on at night to find an e-mail in my inbox and a link to words from David Wilkerson. Along the same theme.

A call to anguish.

It resonated massively with me. This is where I'm at. This is how I feel.

'interruptions'

Most people call them 'interruptions'.

The things that crop up which disrupt and destroy all the plans that you had for the day.

There's a kind of mental grid I sometimes use to work out what to do with things like that. I ask myself two questions.

How important is this? and

How urgent is this?

That enables me to place the thing in one of four 'quadrants'. And after that it's easy.

Quadrant 4 is a waste of my time (neither urgent nor important): I 'bin' it.

Quadrant 3 is still going to be a waste of my time (urgent but not important): so I'll try and 'delegate' it if I can (and won't be too bothered if I can't).

Quadrant 2 doesn't need my attention just now (important but not urgent): so I need to 'plan' it for some time ahead - when it is going to be a bit more urgent.

Quadrant 1 is the bit that really matters (urgent and important): this is stuff I need to 'do'. Here and now.

It doesn't take long. The process of putting a thing in its quadrant is done in a second or two.

But today there have been a series of 'Q1' things cropping up.

'Interruptions' some people would call them. I choose to see these Q1 things as the Lord re-arranging my day, to fit in with his diary. So that I can be sharing in what it is he's doing.

As I say, my day was full of these Q1 things.

For instance -

A man came in this morning. He's a fine Christian man, retired for a while, and he sometimes calls by for a chat.

Urgent? Yes - insofar as the moment will rapidly pass.

Important? Well, yes. No two ways about it. His friendship's too special, his wisdom and love of the Lord is too great for a moment like that to be lost.

Coffee. And chat. For a good long while. Important, indeed. A sort of 'iron sharpening iron' type of moment.

And then someone else calling in. A series of issues that are all of them needing addressed.

Not so much an 'iron on iron' sort of thing. More my serving as a sounding board. Bouncing the ideas around. Suggesting solutions and getting a second opinion. Seeking a bit of advice.

Urgent and important. Q1 stuff again.

And some e-mails, too. Here's where the grid comes into its own!

Q4 is the 'Delete' button. Q3 is the 'Forward' button. Q2 and I leave them in bold ('unread' and still requiring attention). And Q1 - well, those are the ones requiring attention right now. 'Reply' (or 'Reply to all').

There have been a number of those today. And some have taken a while.

Folk from farther afield who've been seeking advice on how they should now be responding to decisions with which they're involved.

Hamilton Presbytery stuff. It's been in the papers this week, The Herald first of all and then the like of The Times.

There are deep-rooted rifts in Big Church these days which are simply not going away. And there are folk who are troubled out there, in the thick of it all, in need of support and encouragement, guidance, advice and the knowledge they don't stand alone.

Urgent? You must be joking: of course it is. And important? Very.

So the course of my day has had its different detours. And a lot of the ground that I'd hoped I might have covered today has remained high and dry.

But I travel each day on the river of the Spirit of the Lord, that flow of grace from the fountain of life.

And I never quite know, for all my plans, just exactly what each day will bring.

books

We had a good day yesterday.

As folk were leaving the morning service, one of the older ladies, as she greeted me, asked - "Do you do any writing?"

That can be a loaded sort of question, of course. When I was at school folk would come up and ask me "Can you whistle?"

The first time it happened I was flattered that they should have thought to ask, and proud that whistling had never been a problem for me.

"Yes," I'd say, "of course I can whistle - who can't?!"

"Well, please try the whistling then," they'd reply, "because you sure can't sing!"

Cruel. I know. Children can be very cruel. I should claim compensation or something for the scars I received from such cruel comments.

So, you can see I was on my guard when this lady asked that question - "Do you do any writing?" I was already anticipating her next line if I suggested that I did. "Well, please try writing .. because you sure can't preach!"

I was rather hesitant, therefore, in my reply - indicating, yes, I did from time to time do some writing. I didn't mention 'blogs' since I figured the word might not feature in her vocabulary - and I wasn't too sure just where the conversation might have gone beyond that.

Her response, though, was not along the lines I'd feared. "You should do more writing," she said. "You've got a way with words."

If nothing else, she reminded me that I've still got some writing to do for the next Big Picture we're putting out. (The Big Picture is our magazine).

So I've been trying to give some thought to that today. Though 'thought' more than any written product is probably the best description. These things take time.

What the lady said also got me thinking about the power of the written word.

Books in particular.

Give me a book over a film any day. Some of them (the books) have a lasting, and life-long, effect upon a person's life.

Here are some that have had a huge and continuing impact on my life.

'The Biography of James Hudson Taylor', by Dr Howard and Mrs Howard Taylor

'Mere Christianity', by C S Lewis

'Memoir and Remains of R M McCheyne', by Andrew Bonar

'Through Gates of Splendour', by Elisabeth Elliot

'Redemption Accomplished and Applied', by John Murray

'Pain - the gift that no one wants', by Paul Brand and Philip Yancey

'The Body', by Chuck Colson

'No Place for Truth', by David Wells

'What's so Amazing about Grace', by Philip Yancey

'Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places', by Eugene Peterson

There's ten for starters! Add in the countless volumes of sermons by Dr D M Lloyd Jones on Romans and Ephesians and you've got a reading list to keep you going 'til Christmas.

These are writers whose books have served to shape the way I think: a work that's still in progress!

detox

Thursday again this year is the day I'm along at the primary school.

Two morning assemblies today. The Upper School first and then, later on, Primary 1-3s.

The Head is back to his 'values' again. And this month's 'value' is good health. It was good stuff, as always.

Physical, emotional and every other sort of good health as well. Including the things they're careful to remove from their lives. Like removing some food from their diet. And being careful about what they are watching on their television screens.

A sort of across-the-spectrum de-tox type of thing. Getting rid of the poisonous stuff in their lives. Pretty practical stuff. And a challenge to pupils and teachers alike. And to the chaplain as well!

It's been in some ways a de-tox sort of day, I guess.

I was along at another school later on with a load of sports equipment I've been storing in our garage for some while. It's simply been lying there, slowly gathering dust. And taking up volumes of space.

When it could be well used by the school.

So I took it along and the garage was given some de-tox. Well, a little bit more of the de-tox, since I've been working away now for weeks on removing the mountains of 'stuff' that's been piling up there.

Creating a bit of breathing space. De-tox.

We're trying to do just the same with our life as the people of God.

Jesus once said to a friend whom he'd called on to see, "Martha, it's time for de-tox!"

Well, those weren't exactly the words that he used. But they give you the drift. There were too many things in the woman's life which left her worried, upset and a cauldron of seething resentment.

De-tox time, said Jesus. Too many things. Most of them really not needed. Remove them.

We're taking those words to heart. There are too many things that we're doing too. And they've been starting to have a sort of suffocating effect.

We've needed a bit of breathing space. We've needed to bin the 'clutter'.

De-tox.

I've been doing that myself in the office I have. The 'good health' sort of thing.

Creating space and removing a whole load of stuff. I mean masses and masses of stuff!

It's a symbolic sort of action as well. A statement of intent in terms of our life as a people here.

These are days of a new beginning in lots of ways. It's time for a good 'spring clean' (even though it's autumn).

De-tox time. Creating some space to breathe. Creating the space for the Spirit of God to bring the breath of God upon our life.

There's an awful lot of poison in the system. Far more than we've maybe thought.

God needs us in good health for all that coming days are going to bring.

And bit by bit we're getting there.

Baal worship

I have a lot of sympathy for Elijah.

He was a prophet of God, not bothered at all about image or spin or what all the people might think. He simply loved the Lord and was appalled at the way the people had gone off the rails.

Sometimes he felt he was almost alone in maintaining the genuine worship of God.

He wasn't, of course. The Lord had to gently correct him on that. But it sure as nothing felt like some of the time.

The bulk of the people back then in the days of Elijah had gone off the rails and embraced to themselves, as the worship of God, a whole load of 'guff' from their neighbours out there in the 'world'.

Perhaps they were trying to be culturally cool. Contemporary. With it.

But Baal worship was a self-indulgent mockery of the great Creator God, a cheap, self-centred rejection of the humble, trembling worship of the holy God of Israel to which they all were summoned.

If it made you feel good, you could take it on board. Baal worship had a lot of attractions!

And most of the people back then were conned into thinking that this was entirely acceptable and jumped into bed with the Baals.

Figuratively.

And sort of literally too. Baal worship was highly sensual stuff and encouraged a free expression of the sensual side of folk.

It grieved and distressed, and disturbed and perturbed this prophet of God called Elijah. And, like I say, I have a lot of sympathy for the guy.

I feel exactly the same.

A contemporary version of 'Baal worship' is rife throughout our land. And rife, what's more - rife within the church.

Today I learned of the stuff that's being used in the training post-graduate students in one part of the country are receiving as they work towards their diploma in primary school teaching.

There's a course on religious and moral education and it starts with Christianity. One of the resources that the students are given is a DVD produced in conjunction with a well-known, prominent congregation of the Church of Scotland.

This is the sort of stuff the resource contains.

Is there life after death?

We believe that life continues after death in the memory of others whose lives have been touched by that individual. We are less certain about theconcept of a heaven. In a fundamental sense death gives rise to new life in the re-cycling of nature.

If you are a good person, but don't follow any specific religion, when you die, will you still go to heaven?

Basically we don't know - but we would like to think that people who have been kind and set a good example, even without any specific beliefs, would still go to heaven.

Is marriage necessary?

No - but desirable. Stable relationships are of the utmost importance, but we recognise that there are many of these outside marriage.

What are your views on pre-marital sex?

Depends whether it is promiscuous or part of a committed relationship.

This is no more than up-to-the-moment, cutting edge Baal worship.

And it's promulgated by the church. The (big)church to which I belong. And it bears no more resemblance to the good news of Jesus Christ than Baal worship ever did to the genuine worship of God.

To suggest that it might be is 'guff'. A lie of hell. It has nothing to do with what Scripture teaches at all.

"Elijah, where are you?!" I'm wanting to cry.

And then I hear the still small voice of the Lord suggesting, with a gentle cough, that I and my like might be called now to do his work.

You wonder why I'm struggling within the church to which I belong?

Well, this is why. Here's what a student who's doing that course has to say about this so-called 'resource' on the Christian faith from that well-known congregation.

I am deeply saddened, angry and offended by some of the statements of belief which appear in this resource. What upsets me more is that this is the only information on Christianity a lot of my peers on the course have ever and possibly will ever hear.

Exactly.

The person has every right to be sad, angry and deeply, deeply offended. And the person's not alone.

Elijah didn't mince his words. And I hope you can see why it's time for that sort of speaking today.

Today's pervasive Baal worship is a million miles from the good news of Jesus Christ.

cathedral building

We had another good meeting this evening of the Leadership Team.

We didn't build the cathedral, as it were: we just put another good stone in place.

It would be nice to be able to build such a thing in an instant. But it doesn't work like that. There's the one in Barcelona that's been years and years in the building and it's still not yet complete.

These things take time.

The man who was leading our study tonight at the start of our time together - the man I mentioned yesterday - he directed us all to the letters that Jesus sent to two churches. You can read the passage yourself in Revelation 3.7-22.

Two doors. "See," says Jesus, "I have set before you an open door..." And then, to the other church, "Here I am! I stand at the door and knock."

Powerful stuff. He has his clear and significant purposes for us here. But he needs to be right at the centre of all that is going on.

We prayed about that and talked around that for most of our time. And we sensed pretty much that the Lord was saying we had to be opening our door wide to him.

Not just one day a week. Not just four days a week (which is sort of what it is at present).

But every day!

So that we can learn to be community. A 21st century monasticism sort of thing.

How that'll all pan out remains to be seen. That's the next course of stones to get built on top of this.

One stone at a time is how a cathedral is built.

The Lord's doing a lot of rebuilding around our land these days.

And the same sort of thing applies as much in this broader context too. It takes time. But the Lord sets before us an open door, and one step at a time we press on through.

The way ahead is far from clear on the broader big church front. And I had a good long time this afternoon with another guy who's wrestling with all of the issues.

Another day's building. Another stone put in place.

The Lord is building his kingdom.

I'm glad to be part of it!