community

Christians don't always agree.

Life might be an awful lot simpler if we did agree. But we don't. At least, not always.

There are issues on which, in any church, the leaders are called to pronounce. Where do they stand? What line will they take?

Leaders have to put their heads above the parapet and provide a lead. Not all will understand, no doubt. Not all will agree, for sure.

And the question arises when it's in regard to big, contentious issues that a stance is being adopted - Where does that leave folk who take a different view?

Well, here's what I say in response.

I hope it leaves them no less welcome, appreciated and respected than (I trust) they’ve always been in a congregation which is both submitted in our discipleship to the authority of God’s Word and at the same time committed as believers in Christ to the expression of genuine community, where such community lies, as Bill Hybels is fond of saying, not so much in the absence of conflict as in the presence of a reconciling spirit.

I hope it leaves them no less able to exercise their gifts and participate in the life of the congregation, humbly willing to accept and respect the lead being given by those called so to do, and at the same time, through that gracious submissiveness, ministering in a fruitful and fulfilling way by the power of the Spirit of God and for the enrichment of the people of God.

And I hope it leaves them no less grateful for a body of leaders who won’t duck difficult questions but who, conscious always of their fallibility, will seek humbly, prayerfully and boldly to address them in accordance with the Word of God, and to provide a faithful, godly leadership with an over-riding desire for the honour and glory of the Lord.

We're called to submit to one another out of reverence for Christ. Which cuts right across the grain of modern life.

And submitting to one another only when we agree with what's being said is not submission at all.

A life of genuine submissiveness is a costly thing. But it's the key in some ways to a fruitful manner of living.

It's something we're having to learn.

hotting up

This week is always a full and busy one. Always. This year is no exception.

I'm in at 7 to start my day. And by 8 I've started on the soups there'll be today. The oven's on, the rings are hot. And if you can't stand the heat then you shouldn't be there in the kitchen.

Our Reception Area will be closed for the regular teas and coffees and lunches through the coming month and a bit - so this is the last week that they're on for a while. We want to ensure that we end in style and aren't going out with a whimper. There are a couple of soups again to be made - but once they're up and running, of course, they pretty much cook themselves!

I've a man to meet mid morning. He's the pastor of a nearby congregation who use our premises a lot. They don't have their own facilities (they meet in a school on Sundays), so they're glad to have this close association with ourselves. They share the same passion to let people know about Jesus. We're in this work together.

He and his folk are quite involved in a thing called Healing on the streets. And some of our people have got involved in this sort of ministry, too. He's here this morning to see if there might be mileage in encouraging more to be getting involved.

I tell him (mainly, but maybe not quite entirely, in jest) that the way things are presently going, we may all be out on the streets anyway, so the sooner we learn how to minister there the better!

It's a powerful sphere of ministry, this Healing on the streets: a whole load of churches, up and down the country, are more and more involved in it. And the Lord is working through it.

He's barely away before I'm getting things ready for another lunch-time get-together of pastors and leaders from right across the city. The need to be meeting together is hugely important. When brothers dwell together in unity .. there the blessing falls: life.

I've been trying to ensure we get into the way of meeting and talking and praying like this on a thoroughly regular basis. The days in which we live are marked by growing urgency. There's a darkness falling across the land. A moral and spiritual darkness. And we're getting together to cry to the Lord - shine, Jesus, shine!

There's a letter I have to write, as well. 'Fire-fighting' stuff. The land is becoming a bit of a spiritual desert. There's not been much in the way of the 'rain' of the Spirit of God (and little if any acknowledgement of the reign of the Son of God).

The land and the landscape is parched, dry, barren. These 'fires' can easily break out.

There have been a few of them in recent days. Accidental fires, in contexts where no harm has been intended, erupting out of the frazzled ground of faithlessness on which we presently find ourselves.

I'll be trying to see the person involved, but a letter will help as well. Getting things down in black and white. Making things clear, correcting some misunderstandings I'm sensing have lain at the heart of it all.

Letters like that take some time. I can make things worse and aggravate the fires if I get it wrong.

And then I'm off to call on some folk whom I really must try and see.

I'm back to the house and then out again by 6pm. It's the Primary 7's Leavers' Dance and I've said I'll go along. At least to be there at the start.

The children are hardly recognisable, dressed in all their finery (and arriving as well, as they all seem to do these days, by limousine). In one fell swoop they've shifted out of childhood into an embryonic adulthood. It's frightening how quickly they've all grown up.

A lot of the Mums are barely recognisable also. In their case it's because of the way their mascara's been spread by the flow of their tears. It's a weepy sort of occasion. A rite of passage. And I'm glad to be there to be part of it all once again. Occasions like this are special.

That's one of the countless privileges I always have. I get to share in the special occasions in all sorts of people's lives. It's striking to find that the first of the miracles Jesus performed was, yes, at a special occasion. A wedding.

I work on the basis that he's glad to pitch up to occasions like this tonight. He maybe stays longer than I do, though. I've a meeting I need to attend.

A long meeting, which goes on until after 9pm.

I'm quick to leave at its close as I want to call by and see the person to whom I wrote the letter before it's getting too late.

When I arrive I begin to see that maybe the Lord prolonged the meeting to delay my time of arrival. My ring of the bell is timely, I think. Circumstances are such that it works out well it's later rather than sooner that I've managed along. The Lord, the great fire-fighter, is already at work.

Prevention is better than cure, of course. And our greatest need in this land today is for 'rain' from on high, a fresh and large outpouring from the heavens of the mighty Spirit of God. Drenching the land once again. Bathing the land in the grace of the gospel of Christ.

Things are certainly hotting up!

continue

Last night in our evening worship (which we held outside, it was such a lovely night), we took a look at the exhortation to "continue in what you have learned and become convinced of."

Its a powerful little passage (2 Tim.3.10-17) in which Paul is on about the Bible. He gives some pretty good reasons for sticking with it and persisting in grounding our lives in the teaching the Scriptures afford.

Why? Three good reasons. The Scriptures make you strong for struggles, wise for salvation, and fit for service.

We need that strength from the Lord which enables us to endure the struggles which come our way, in the confidence that he will indeed rescue us from (or at least through) them all.

Because there will be struggles of one sort or another. Trials and troubles which will sometimes seem quite huge and overwhelming.

I've been aware of that today in the folk I've been with. There are troubles I'm having to handle and cope with myself. Troubles which often have me crying out -Roll on heaven! Troubles for which I don't have ready answers.

And there are all sorts of troubles that people I'm seeing are facing.

I'm a pastor. And people encountering troubles are what most of my life is about.

Troubles will come. We have that on good authority. No less than Jesus himself.

You don't get an exemption certificate following him. Troubles will come and it's going to be hard and at times you'll wonder if really you're going to survive.

Sometimes it seems a whole load easier simply to give up on the Lord.

Today's been a day for which yesterday's word was quite timely. Continue. Stick in there.

One situation after another, where at times it seems the whole thing is a nightmare and all hell has been let loose.

And maybe that's not all that far from being in fact the truth.

"Everyone who wants to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted..."

Persecuted. Hounded. By hell. The very kitchen sink of hell itself being flung at us.

You want to live a godly life in Christ Jesus? You've got to expect this, then.

And you've got to learn to 'continue'. To stick in there in the face of the storm that rages.

And you'll need to fall back on the Scriptures. Because they point you back to the Lord. And the Lord is strong and loving. And rescues us. Every time.

Fall back on the Scriptures and all that they teach you of God.

His strength. His love. His commitment. His care. His mercy. His grace.

His death. His resurrection. His salvation.

Jesus saves. Always.

recovering the lost

I've been expecting a package for quite a while.

A few weeks back I checked with the folk from whom the thing was being sent to see what the state of play was. It was something I'd sent for repair, and the promise they'd made was the thing would be done in three weeks. Since more than the three weeks had passed, it seemed like a good ting to do to start following all of this up.

Like - where is the thing?!

They'd checked their files. They'd sent if off in May. They told me the name of the carrier, and assured me I should have received it the following day.

I assured them I hadn't.

So they did some more of their checking, contacted the carriers they use, got back to me saying the carriers had tried to deliver but no one was there - and since there'd been no reply to their card, they'd sent the thing back to the firm who'd been doing the repair.

Who in turn had been asked to send it out again.

I told them that there hadn't been a card put through my door. Which would explain, of course, why there'd not been any reply to the card.

Well, I've been trying in vain to suss it all out and to get my hands on this package. And I've finally found out the root of the problem there's been.

Two tiny mistakes. One with my name. The other with my address.

Somewhere down the line the 'M' at the start of my name has been read by a scribe as an 'H'. The package was addressed, it seems to a hitherto unknown 'Mr Hiddleton'.

And somewhere down the line as well, perhaps through an over-worked scribe who's suffering from double vision, the '1' which is my street number has become an '11'.

Two tiny mistakes. But enough to ensure the package was utterly lost.

Today I finally tracked it down. A clear 'sighting'. It was back again in the carrier's Edinburgh base.

Leave it right there, I cried. I'm coming to get it myself.

I fear it might have been a life-long vigil I'd have had if I'd kept waiting for the thing to be delivered. The only way I'd be sure of getting it back was by going for the thing myself.

This is 'shepherd' ministry. I'd a hundred and one other things to be doing. But I dropped them all there and then and went off in search of this one little 'sheep' (in the shape of my package) that was lost.

And, oh, what rejoicing there was in the heart of this 'shepherd' today when the package I'd lost was now found!

Most of the work that we do is along those lines. Recovering the lost, one by one.

Waiting around in the hope that the 'sheep' that are lost will pitch up is a pretty vain hope. We have to take steps ourselves to recover them one by one.

I've spent weeks hunting down this package that somehow got lost. Weeks of relentless, single-minded pursuit, 'til I'd managed to get the thing back.

I had to make all the calls. I had to make all the running. I had to go to the place where the package was stuck.

That's what shepherds do: they leave the hundred and one little things they could and should be doing - and they chase down the one 'sheep' that's lost.

One by one 'til the flock are all found in the fold.

The thing that was broken is mended. The package once lost is now found.

It's a graphic little cameo of what my life is like!

where are you

Today saw the last of the midweek lunch-time services for a while.

The folk who come will miss it, I know. It's become for many a kind of oasis in what can sometimes be a desert. A chance to meet for an act of worship, and then to have lunch together. And, of course, there's a bus we lease which goes round and collects a crowd of them - and they all enjoy that, too.

So I feel for them now when there's not going to be that chance of a Wednesday break for a couple of months and more. But we're trying, across the board, to balance our idealism with realism: our passion with patience: our seizing the opportunities with avoiding an early grave.

It's the 'sabbath' principle, I suppose, being applied to our busy weekly diary.

We take a break. In part that affords us the chance to draw breath. Simply to rest. Our bodies and minds need it.

But it also affords us the chance to stand back and do some reflecting. Which is just as important and needed.

In one way and another there has been a lot of that going on today. Pausing with others to reflect and review.

Not simply busily bashing on regardless. Which, then there's loads to do, is always quite a temptation.

I had a long and helpful session along those lines with a couple of folk this afternoon. In relation to some of the things that we've sought to do these past few weeks. Standing back and assessing and seeing how it's all best progressed.

I was in seeing a couple as well today where there's a need these days to be spending some time in seeing what course their lives should now be taking. Not a situation where decisions can be taken overnight. There's a need for some time and some thought and the input of others not quite so involved as they are in it all themselves.

Review. Asking the question, where are we now, and where do we go from here?

The very first words we have from the Lord once it all started going so horribly wrong at the start are that question - "Where are you?" he asked the man in the Garden of Eden.

It remains the primary question we're always needing to ask. Where are we?

I was asking it later this evening as well in meeting with folk who've been thinking a bit about joining the church, professing their faith in Jesus. Where are you?

A 'sabbath' time can put us on the spot. Resting, yes. Reflecting, yes. But the task of responding as well. Where are we, and where do we go from here?

Later still, and an entirely different context, but the same essential process. Folk who've faced bereavement and its aftermath. The need to take stock, to work things through. To stand back just a bit, to reflect on it all.

And the same simple question again. Where are you?

It won't go away, that question!

Where are we? Well, I like the way Luke closes his gospel account. The picture of Jesus, his arms raised aloft as he blesses his people in love. As if the whole thing 'freezes' at that point, so that becomes, for all of time, the great defining feature of the place in which we find ourselves.

Enveloped by the covenantal blessing of the Lord. For good.

open doors

Open doors are great. But they have their down sides, too.

Adversaries abound on the other side.

"A great door for effective work has opened to me .... and there are many who oppose me."

That was Paul's experience. Opposition didn't trouble him. It went with the territory. He stayed.

This morning I met with a man who ministers here in the city. I'd suggested we meet for a coffee since we hadn't touched base for a while.

His circumstances were pretty much like this. A clear sense of call from the Lord to the place where he's at. Signs of the Lord being at work as he preaches the gospel and points people there to the Lord.

A great door for effective work has opened to him.

And ... yes, there are many 'adversaries'.

They come in all sorts of shapes and sizes. Pressures and problems, being hastled and hustled, and coping with lies, deception and flak. There are those who want him out.

It goes with the territory. When the Lord opens doors of opportunity and opens them wide, hell goes wild. It's a standard, predictable pattern, writ large through the story of those who have honoured the Lord.

And the devil's not choosy what form the adversaries take.

The man found it helpful to talk and to share. He sensed the Lord speaking, I think, and underlining to him at this time that he was to stay meanwhile. Whatever it cost.

He hadn't really seen it in this light before. A great door for effective work has opened to you and there are many who oppose you. So you stay.

We prayed. He meets with a colleague involved in the same work there each week on a Wednesday morning. I suggested I'd join them one week in the month, and share with them both as they prayed.

We're all in this together.

Most of today has been spent like that. One person after another.

And in some ways the theme has remained the same throughout the day. A great door for effective work being opened by the Lord. And many adversaries.

Late on in the afternoon I was seeing someone else. Another situation where a door has been opened by the Lord for effective work: and, yes, again there are the adversaries. It's not plain sailing at all.

We chatted for long enough, without (it seemed to me) getting down to what our meeting like this was really all about. I thought the person was finished, and I was getting ready to leave: but then we suddenly moved on to a rather different tack.

And then the point of our meeting and speaking become crystal clear.

Early on in the day, the Lord had laid on my heart a simple word - "one thing I do." As if this was the word that someone would need to hear.

I'd wondered to start with if maybe it was in fact a word the Lord was speaking to me. But it soon became clear that this was a word I was given from him for another.

And here, late on in the afternoon - here was the person for whom that word was intended. I gave the person this word that the Lord had laid so forcibly on my heart. It was humbling to see how astonishingly apt this word from the Lord proved to be.

The person confessed to being not clear at all as to why we were meeting at all. There had just been the sense that we needed to meet.

This was why. The Lord had a word that he needed to speak, that the person needed to hear. Clear, directive, liberating.

It's thrilling to see the Lord working like that and speaking with such patent clarity.

That one thing. Concentrate on that. Run with that and stay there.

Adversaries or not, there's a wide open door for effective work.

And that's the case here as well. A great door for effective work, opened by the One who holds the key. And when he opens no one can close. Not even hell itself, despite throwing all that it's got.

what is the gospel

Barely a day goes by but in the course of conversation I'm left feeling there's a lot of confusion in people's thinking about what the gospel actually is.

And if there's a fair degree of confusion with that - which is plainly fairly foundational - then little wonder there's an awful lot more confused thinking in regard to a lot of the issues we're constantly having to face and address.

So let me recommend a short little book by Greg Gilbert, called with simple clarity What is the Gospel?

It's not long (about 120 pages), it's simple to read (without being simplistic), and it sets out in a very straightforward manner the essence of the message we're called to embrace and proclaim.

I notice from the commendations that more than one pastor wishes they could get a boxful of the books and hand them out to every single member of their congregations. It's that good!

Here's how Greg Gilbert begins -

"What is the gospel of Jesus Christ?

You'd think that would be an easy question to answer, especially for Christians. In fact, you'd think that writing a book like this one - one asking Christians to think carefully about the question, 'What is the gospel of Jesus?' - would be completely unnecessary. It's like asking carpenters to sit around and ponder the question, 'What is a hammer?'"

You'd have thought.

But, of course, it's not like that. There's a lot of confusion around.

And this little book grabs the question, like some tangled bit of metal, and hammers the answer out. It's not long before the guy has put the thing in a nutshell (well, a paragraph).

"Contexts change, words change, and approaches change, but somehow and in some ways the earliest Christians always seem to get at these four issues: We are accountable to God who created us. We have sinned against that God and will be judged. But God has acted in Jesus Christ to save us, and we take hold of that salvation by repentance from sin and faith in Jesus.

"God. Man. Christ. Response."

Simple without being simplistic.

The rest of the book takes a look at each of these headings in turn. Uncomplicated. Warm-blooded. Sometimes amusing. Sometimes hard-hitting. But always clear and to the point.

And he finishes off by asking the so what question - "... a few things .. about how the good news of Jesus should affect our lives."

First, repent and believe. Like I said, he pulls no punches.

Rest and rejoice. "If you are a Christian, then the cross of Jesus stands like a mountain of granite across your life, immovably testifying to God's love for you and his determination to bring you safely into his presence."

Love Christ's people. It's wonderful knowing that we're included in God's promises solely through what Jesus has done and our being united by faith to him. But, as he quaintly puts it, "here's the kicker. Do you realise that the same thing is true of that brother or sister in your church who annoys you?"

Speak the Gospel to the World. We hold in our hands "the only true message of salvation the world will ever hear." A sobering thought, maybe. But a privileged position, too. "Take a deep breath, pray for God's Spirit to work, and open your mouth and speak."

Long for him. There's a whole new future awaiting us, still to come. If anyone should be forward-looking and future-oriented, then it's certainly the person who's come to embrace this gospel.

D A Carson is no fool. He's a highly-regarded professor whose works are voluminous. He wrote the short preface to this book. And I can think of no better advice than that with which he ends.

"Read it, then buy a box of them for generous distribution."

food and fairness

If solving the world's problems was as simple as gathering all of the left-overs from lunch-time along at the school and then sending them off to Haiti ... well, that would be great!

Thursday tends to be my 'school' day. The assemblies were rather more staggered today (one in the morning, one in the early afternoon), but they both took place. And the theme for them both was the same.

Fairness and Justice is the 'value for the month' through June. And the Head had the children all thinking again.

Four of the children who sit on the Pupil Council had prepared a presentation on the amount of food that gets wasted each day over lunch. They had photos of the sort of stuff that gets left - on the tables and loads on the floor which all then gets swept up and put into buckets at the end of the feeding frenzy called 'lunch'.

How much food would the children in Haiti have left? asked the Head. None came the answer.

How much food would be left on the floor by the children in Haiti? None came the answer again.

Is it fair, he went on, that we have so much that we can't eat it all, and that they have so little to eat - maybe one meal a day and possibly not even that?

Is it fair on the people who clean up the hall that we leave such a mess from our lunch? Is it fair on the people of Haiti that we have so much and they have so little to eat?

And then he came out with this - next term for a week they would do without lunch in the school.

It was meant as a putative suggestion, but it came across as a statement of fact.

They would pay their dinner money: he'd say 'Thank you very much': and then he'd announce that the money brought in (he instanced £1,500) would be sent to feed the children of Haiti.

Would that not be fair? he asked.

This was the P1s-3s who were in at the time. That's quite a question to be asking them! You could almost hear the cogs in their young brains working overtime.

Some thought that, yes, it was fair. (Ask the question in the right sort of way and you're likely to get the answer you want)

But others, you could see were struggling. They knew the answer should be 'Yes', but they weren't entirely comfortable with that and were trying to figure out why.

You lied, said one little boy at last. It might be fair for the children of Haiti: but it wouldn't be fair on the children at the school. They'd paid their money for lunch in all good faith. The school should keep the deal - or it wouldn't be fair on the people who'd paid for their lunch.

Fairness. The concept is fine. Working it out can be hard.

How responsible are we for what goes on elsewhere? If we do without lunch in the school all the time to be helping the people of Haiti, then we're putting folk out of a job here in Scotland and making life harder for them.

Solving the world's problems is not a simple thing! But that doesn't mean we shouldn't be making a start. And the sooner the better!

I think that's what the Head is really on about. And all strength to the man. Isn't this one big part of what the Lord rerquires of us?

"To act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God."

Jesus pitching up

At the lunch-time service today I was highlighting the way in which the risen Jesus pitches up at meal-times with his followers.

The two longest pieces in the resurrection narratives focus on an evening meal (Luke) and a breakfast (John), at which the risen Jesus comes among his disciples.

It's Eugene Peterson (I think) who in one of his books draws attention to this, and underlines the importance of the meal in terms of our knowing the presence of Jesus. There's a lot that's really quite challenging in all of this, since the way society works today, such meals are going out of fashion.

We still eat, of course. We still have breakfast and lunch and tea (whatever we choose to call them).

But the sharing the meal with others is not such a common phenomenon now as it used to be. And I mean by the meal the whole extended process which starts with the way we acquire and select the ingredients, right on through the choosing of the recipes, the 'preparation' time, the actual eating itself, to the cleaning up time and the consequent chat by the kitchen sink thereafter.

A lot of folk live (and thus eat) on their own today. The extended family doesn't exist quite the same as it used to do. Convenient fast-foods have reduced by a massive big factor the time that's involved in a meal. And the TV screen doesn't help.

We lose out a lot when there isn't the time or the space or occasion for eating together like this. Because one of the things that's apparent in both the accounts of the meals Jesus shared with his friends once he'd risen from death, is the fact that (to start with) they simply didn't recognise that he himself was there.

Jacob's words come to mind. "Surely the Lord is in this place. And I was not aware of it."

Jesus present. Jesus speaking. Jesus at work, anticipating needs, addressing vexing issues.

"And I was not aware of it."

That was the theme that I took for the service I conducted later on this afternoon along at the crematorium. And the Lord was in that place as well today, of that I am quite sure. Though maybe others present there were likewise not aware of it.

How often do we actually miss him? How many different times and places have there been where the truth of the matter has simply been that the Lord was in that place - and you were not aware of it?

You can go through the whole of your life like that. You can miss so much. You can miss the whole point. You can miss him.

Perhaps because you're not expecting him. Perhaps because it simply doesn't cross your mind that he might actually be there. Perhaps because you'd rather that he wasn't there - and don't want to think that he might be.

Or perhaps because of a 'fast-food' sort of lifestyle, which doesn't afford you such moments.

A leisurely meal with your family or friends at the end of a troublesome day. Or a leisurely breakfast with colleagues on the back of frustrating pursuits or surprising results.

Jesus is risen! He pitches up in all sorts of wonderful contexts. Today was no exception.

The Lord was in the place. Were those who were there aware of that? Some, I think, for sure.

non-coms & membership

I was thinking some more about one of the things I mentioned in yesterday's post.

The 'non-coms' in our membership.

The sizeable number of people who, for one reason or another, are simply not 'communicating' any more. I don't mean that in the sense that they're not talking with folk. I mean it in the 'technical' sense of their not participating in the regular weekly worship of God's people here and the sacrament we call 'communion'.

We've got slack when it comes to membership, I think. And there's a good lot of work we're going to be having to do in this regard in coming months.

Thinking along these lines drove me back to a piece I read a while ago entitled 'How we do Congregational Care and Oversight'. I'll not quote it all (it's really quite long), but here are a couple of passages which highlight the sort of issues which we need to be addressing.

We stress membership at our church. There are a number of reasons for this, but one of them is very practical. Membership helps us care for people. Without membership it is hard to know who is really a part of our church and who is passing through or just floating around. But when someone joins the church we know this person is committed to our body and we need to be committed to him.

What does the membership process look like (here)? Two or three times a year we offer a 10 week membership class ... (which) covers a lot of material, including our theology, our statement of faith, our membership covenant, our polity, our ministries, spiritual disciplines, spiritual gifts, and how to get plugged in to the church. ...

In my experience, people will not take a membership class unless (1) they know membership actually means something, (2) membership is talked about, at least once in awhile, from the front, and (3) they are personally invited.

At the end of the class everyone signs up for an elder interview.

We usually meet with people in elder teams of two or three. The interviews run about 30 minutes. Some questions always get asked: How did you become a Christian? Why did you come to our church? Who is Jesus Christ? What do you believe about the Bible? What is the gospel?

We try to make the interview as non-threatening as possible. Most often it is a time to get to know new people (and they their elders) and celebrate God’s grace in their lives. Sometimes, however, we need to meet with people again. We will delay their membership if we feel like they aren’t ready, but this is rare.

They make it clear from the outset that membership is taken really seriously. And they follow it through with a rigorous pastoral oversight.

The article closes by raising a pertinent question.

We are required by our denomination’s Book of Church order to ask at our elders’ meetings, “who is in need of spiritual care and/or not making faithful use of the means of grace?”

It’s a good policy. But I wonder how many churches in our denomination or yours regularly ask this question. And I wonder how many churches have any mechanism in place to know who these people are and how to help them once they are identified.

This is one of the issues we're working on these days. And I have to say, there's a lot of important work we're needing to do in this regard!

not 'communicating'

Computers are great when they work. When they don't, it can be irksome.

There's a problem with my computer at present. Not a major problem. The computer still works.

It's just that for reasons best known to itself it's been refusing, in the language of technology, to 'communicate' with the video projector. Which does create a problem or two.

The video projector is working fine. It seems happy to 'communicate' with any and every other lap-top computer. Whereas my lap-top, while working well in every other way, refuses to 'communicate' with video projectors (I've tried it with more than one).

It seems to have a thing about projectors. A non-communication thing. A technological huff, the reason for which (like a lot of the huffs people have) is not immediately obvious.

I had it up town to a specialist lap-top place: they were all for engaging in the computer equivalent of the sort of thing that 'Relate' does. Marriage guidance. Getting parties 'communicating' with one another again.

Except this was a long-term project. I'd need to leave both the lap-top and the video projector with them for a while. I didn't have the 'while' to give them. So I think I'll have to explore some other avenue.

The whole day's been about 'communicating'. It's not just computers which sometimes have a problem communicating. People do too. With one another: and with the Lord.

Much of the afternoon was spent with some folk working through our roll of members. We have quite a large roll of members: but quite a large number who haven't been at worship for a good long while.

When folk haven't participated in the sacrament called 'communion', the term we use, interestingly, is that they haven't 'communicated'.

Not communicating with God: and, to some extent, not communicating with their fellow believers either. It's not a healthy sign.

Like a computer, though they may be working fine in other respects, this lack of 'communication' is not a healthy thing. We were made to 'communicate'. With the Lord and with each other.

The computer folk at the specialist shop were suggesting that the problem was probably deep inside the lap-top. it might to a guy like me seem just a small little thing which needed a bit of fixing: but in truth, they were saying, I need a whole new motherboard/mainboard.

At least, the lap-top does.

The same is true of ourselves. When we're not 'communicating' (with the Lord) there's something wrong. Something deeply flawed.

And though it often seems to us as though it is a minor thing, surely rather easily corrected, in fact it's far more basic. The 'replacement motherboard' diagnosis works out for us as the need to be 'born again'.

Our not having been 'communicating' is a sign of that need for a work of the Spirit of God in our hearts and lives.

Sometimes, though, our problem is a whole load simpler.

At night I was round to see a group of children who'll be at the funeral service I'm conducting in a couple of days' time. I wanted to put their minds at ease about what would be going on. What to expect and why it all happens, and .. well, anything they wanted to ask.

It helps to be able to talk it all through.

We ended up talking about all sorts of things. And one of the lads at one point asked -

"But I don't know how to communicate with God. How do you do it? How do you communicate with God?"

Most of us feel at least a bit like that. The first disciples certainly did.

"Teach us to pray," they asked Jesus. Pretty much the same question.

It's not that complicated, of course! A child can pick it up.

I love it when people ask questions like that. When they want to be communicating with God ... but don't know how.

That's altogether different from those who don't have the inclination, aren't that bothered, and don't really wish to be living in touch with God.

And a lot more easily fixed.

moving on

I missed the assemblies along at the school today. I was otherwise occupied.

My time was spent with the two P7 classes instead.

Scripture Union have a superb little booklet designed for those who are moving on to secondary school. It's called It's your move and it is really brilliant. I gave each child a copy of the booklet at the end of the class - and spent the time with the children beforehand working through some issues to do with their moving school. Changes, challenges and choices.

It was time (and money) well spent. The children were great and the time itself was useful.

They're excited, in some ways.

But there's a lot of fear and worry around as well. The big unknown of a whole new place, and a whole crowd of people most of whom they will never have met - and most of whom are bigger than they're going to be. Scary.

We none of us like the unknown.

I'd prepared a work-sheet for each of the children and told them a bit about Daniel - another young teenager having to face a new 'school'.

There are some interesting parallels! And when Daniel's story is put in those terms (and it's not distorting the thing one small bit), I think it begins to dawn on their minds that the Bible is not out of date. It deals with the issues we're dealing with still to this day.

There are all sorts of scary unknowns we all have to face. For some, like the children, it's the challenge of changing their school. For some, a new job. For some, their having to move.

And for some, it's the path of bereavement. The dark, distressing corridor of grief: the sequel to the passing of a person who's been dear: the entrance to an unknown world of life without a loved one.

There's a lot to be done when a person has died. For most of us it's mainly unknown territory. Unknown and unfamiliar. It's not a very comfortable time at all.

That corridor of grief is always better walked by folk in company. I was with a grieving family this afternoon. In a sense, not actually doing much more than simply being there with them at their side. That's sometimes all that people need.

They knew what one of the hymns to be sung at the funeral service is going to be. The Lord's my shepherd [the 'traditional' version]. It's got that marvelous central verse -

Yea, though I walk in death's dark vale,

Yet will I fear no ill,

For Thou art with me, and Thy rod

And staff me comfort still.

'Thou art with me.'

That's what we, all of us, need to know. There are times like today when I know that my presence is itself that statement of fact. The Lord himself is present. That truth becomes their experience.

The Lord comes out of the Scriptures and into their lives.

That's what I'm praying each day, wherever I am and whatever it is that I'm doing. Whether with the children and their moving on to secondary school. Or with a family as they make their way on through the corridor of grief.

holy ground

It'll be coming on 30 years in a couple of years since my Dad died.

It's strange how the time flies by. And strange, as well, how so many of the details to do with his death and his dying are as vivid as ever they were.

At the time I remember being struck by the words of the psalm -

"Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints." [Psalm 116.15]

That seemed to sum up so well the remarkable way in which the Lord had attended, with such exquisite care, to all the smallest details in regard to my father's death.

I learned back then that the Lord takes an extraordinarily personal and personal interest in the dying and death of his saints. In detail after detail it was simply overwhelming to see how the Lord himself took a hand in it all; and his love and his care, displayed in these countless small tokens of kindness and in all of the meaningful details which marked out those days - it was his love and his care which I found hardest of all to be handling.

When I cried I think people thought the tears were tears of sadness: but in truth my heart was breaking more because it simply was not big enough to cope with the sheer, expansive volume of the Lord's so personal love which he displayed in such exquisite ways to all of us.

I came to realise what a wonderful, humbling and awesome thing it is that the dying and death of his saints is so precious to the Lord. He keeps his eyes on all the smallest details.

These past few days I've known that once again.

One of the huge and humbling privileges that I have is that of sharing with a family through their grief. And these past few days - perhaps as much as a week - I've shared with a family in their patient, loving vigil at their loved one's side: seeing a loved one slowly leave this life: saying goodbye and putting in words the things they have wanted to say.

To say that I have seen the Lord himself at work is putting it far too mildly. To say that I've been with a family who have been standing on holy ground is hardly conveying the size of the thing at all, though it gets at the heart of the matter.

I have seen all over again in the way that the Lord has attended to so many details, moment by moment attending to everyone's needs, speaking so plainly, ministering comfort and peace in such gentle and generous doses - I have felt all over again the force of that wonderful truth that precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.

To document it all would be, I think, intrusive. Sacred ground is .. well, sacred ground. It's a place for worship, not a tourist attraction.

The privilege is huge. The grace is greater still.

gaps

There's a passage in John's account of Jesus' ministry which dispels any notion which folk might have that the Jesus bandwagon rolled sublimely on, gathering not moss but multitudes.

"From this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him." [John 6.66]

I smile a bit when I note the chapter and verse reference: 666. Not a good number in the bible!

But this situation happens. There came a time for Jesus himself when many of his disciples turned on their heels and left.

Why? Well, I don't suppose they told him. They would doubtless have come up with all sorts of well-argued reasons. But you don't have to be all that smart to be able to read between the lines of what has gone before and see what was going on.

"This is a hard teaching...." these folk had been saying in response to the teaching of Jesus.

Strange. He'd been feeding them the very bread of life: not simply meeting their bodily needs in a quite remarkable way, but giving them himself. And suddenly these folk are suffering from a spiritual indigestion. They can't, or won't stomach, what he's giving.

They are consumers. As long as their needs and desires are being met: as long as Jesus is there to do their bidding: as long as Jesus will solve life's practical problems - they're happy. Content to give him their vote.

But Jesus is plainly not into 'consumer-religion'. He's looking for relational commitment. He's offering himself as the very bread of life: he's proclaiming a Christ-centred, cross-centred gospel.

And suddenly they're all getting shifty. They're grumbling. Suddenly they're not quite so keen on the sermons that Jesus is giving (he'd been teaching, we're told, in the synagogue at Capernaum).

And from that time many of his disciples turned back.

It happened to him. And it happens to us as well.

It's not a comfortable thing at all. And I get the sense that Jesus, too, felt at least a measure of that discomfort himself.

It's something I'm wrestling with much myself at this time. Those gaps are appearing here.

From that time. I'm struck by that. This often doesn't happen in an entirely gradual manner. Often there is a definite point in time. You can pinpoint the drift to a certain period of time.

There are seasons, I believe, in the work of the Lord. Recognisable seasons.

I've long held the view (loosely based on what Moses was urging when he said that every seven years his teaching in Deuteronomy should be read all over again) that when the Word of God is faithfully preached and expounded, seven years down the line you have, effectively, a different congregation.

Which obliges the preacher and pastor to stand back and reflect and in some ways to start all over again.

This past year we moved into my 22nd year here. That's to say, this past year has been a 'starting all over again', as I've moved into a fourth cycle of seven years. And yes, there has been without a doubt a greater urgency and a clearer challenge in the preaching of the Word.

This past year has been a watershed. And the gaps have started to appear.

Many of his disciples. Not just the odd one or two. These were big-sized gaps which opened up.

Not a comfortable experience. But it's happening here. We're having to ask what's going on. We're having to pause and consider our life and reflect on just where the drifting away has its roots. We're having, with due humility, to see if there haven't been failings in how things are done.

But I'm also so very aware that the Lord himself has been speaking, and that what he's been saying - in love and with grace - has been searching our hearts and putting us all on the spot.

Sometimes it feels a whole load easier simply to walk away. To look for some church where there's not the same challenge: where the summons of Jesus to radical, godly discipleship isn't so plainly proclaimed: where religious-consumers can get what they actually want.

666 stuff.

Times like this put us all on the spot.

"You don't want to leave too, do you?" Jesus asked the twelve.

It's a comfort to know that Jesus has been there too.

priorities

A good deal of a Thursday morning is taken up by things at the school. There are regularly two assemblies, one at 9am and the next at 10am. And then there's the SU group at 12.30pm.

I enjoy the access I get at the school and count it a genuine privilege. But it does tend to mean that there's not so much time for all that much else. A lot of other things I'm conscious that I could perhaps be doing.

'Other things'. The bane of most of our lives.

Jim Elliot, martyred half a century and more ago in Ecuador, once wrote these famous words -

"He makes His ministers a flame of fire. Am I ignitible? God deliver me from the dread asbestos of 'other things.' Saturate me with the oil of the Spirit that I may be aflame. But flame is transient, often short lived. Canst thou bear this, my soul - short life? ... Make me thy fuel, Flame of God."

The dread asbestos of 'other things'.

Thursdays put things in focus. I choose to go along to the school. I see the opportunities there are as being so very special. People. Children. Open and eager and hungry for truth. And the chance to share with them Jesus.

The 'other things', no matter how important, can surely wait.

We had another great time at the SU group today. We told them the story of Jesus and the man born blind. And we did so in a fairly 'visual' way.

The story was told from the lips of the man himself.

Blind. Begging by the roadside. The sound of people passing by and stopping. The name 'Jesus'.

The sound of a man spitting. And then the sensation of mud being plastered on his eyes (except in our case it was a thick chocolate sauce - much to the consternation and then amusement of the children).

The clear command of Jesus to go and wash in the pool of Siloam. Feeling his way down the road to the pool. Washing his face in the water.

Then opening his eyes and ... SEEING! For the first time in his life.

It's a powerful story. The Jesus that Scripture is all about remains the same today. Someone we can know. Someone able to change our lives as well.

The children all listened intently.

And then there were all sorts of questions to do with the here and the now. Can we see Jesus now? Is Jesus everywhere?

One of the girls explained how a girl in her year, who "doesn't believe", had told her yesterday that she'd actually prayed - and "it worked!"

And then she'd asked this girl who comes to the SU group - "what should I do now?"

Christian counselling starts at a pretty young age!

It's a thrill to see how the Lord is at work in the school.

I'm hoping that on the last Sunday in June, instead of our usual evening service of worship, we'll be able to share in a pulsing celebration of God's work among young people at this time. With the children and young folk themselves being the ones whose voices we hear. The Lord at work in their lives.

So some of my time today has been spent as well in trying to set this up. Contacting folk and calling on folk and trying to ensure there'll be those who are willing to speak.

It should be a great occasion. For those of you who are here or hereabouts at the time - mark it in your diaries now! Sunday June 27th - from early evening on. It'll do your spirits good.

God deliver me from the dread asbestos of 'other things'. Saturate me with the oil of the Spirit, that I may be aflame.