thankfulness

There are all sorts of very real privileges that go hand in hand with being a parish minister.

Not the least of which is that of sharing with a family in a time of sore bereavement, and leading the service of worship to mark the passing from this earthly life of one who's been so dear to all of them.

It is, for sure, a privilege. Hard work, far from easy, and often thoroughly draining. Yes. That goes with the territory. But a privilege, very definitely.

This morning there was a service of thanksgiving along at the crematorium. The man who'd died was 92 and the chapel was filled to capacity - standing room only. There would have been a good 70 people present - perhaps a few more. Not bad for a man that age, and indicative of the esteem in which he was held and the impact that he'd plainly had on many folk.

When you reach that age most of your own contemporaries are no longer there. It's getting to be the last man standing sort of thing.

His grand-daughter read a poem: and his son spoke, too. Not an easy thing for either in the swirling of emotions in their hearts. But they both did really well. Another sort of tribute to a man they loved so much.

It was that sort of life that he'd lived, I think. People warmed to him. Family, friends, colleagues and neighbours - all alike were drawn to him.

My perception was that it all stemmed from his gratitude - an outlook and an attitude to all of life which at its core was thankful for the many varied blessings that he'd known. It does something to a person when there is that deep-seated sense of gratitude within. And it almost invariably warms folk to the person, too.

No wonder that we're always being exhorted to that gratitude ourselves.

"O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good:

his love endures for ever."

That latter line is the potent refrain that runs through every verse of one of the songs in the Bible. Line after line after line. Driving home this fundamental truth into our hearts. The Lord loves us. And his love is enduring and strong.

A multitude of different things each day bear witness to that love. And none more so, of course, than that supreme expression of his love - the giving of his Son, the Lord Jesus Christ.

Those who know Jesus - they above all will be thankful.

To have been rescued and saved and delivered by God - how can a person be anything other than grateful? And how can each day be seen by such folk as anything other than truly a gift from the Lord?

Our whole perspective on life turns around when we cultivate this sort of gratitude deep in our hearts.

The tasks to be done, however routine and mundane, become an act of worship whereby our thanks is being continually offered up to God.

The challenges and problems that we face, however hard and tough, become, not one more cause for big complaint, but rather one more context for reliance on the Lord.

The whole of life is altered when there's thankfulness like that. We become the sort of people folk are glad to have around. Warm, uplifting, humorous, fun: kind, understanding, patient and true.

There's really nothing quite like being a part of such a fellowship where genuine, heart-felt gratitude to God is at the core of who folk are!

on the move

Another day when it's a case of hitting the ground running.

There's the soup to be made at its start, of course - and I'm careful today to take my keys with me when I go outside with the peelings. I've learned from last week and the memory is still very fresh.

Then along to the school where this morning I get to lead a whole-school assembly. That's a lot of children all in one hall. And it's a big age-span, too: P1s and P7s are a whole world apart in all sorts of ways. But it's good to see them all there and I'm able to carry on the theme for the month - forgiveness - in a way which I hope is practical and intelligible.

There's a lot of preparation I must do. Six separate services each requiring careful preparation (3 funeral services, 2 Sunday services, and the midweek service tomorrow) - and that's before I ever get round to thinking about the SU group on Thursday.

None of them simply happen! I'm dependent on the Holy Spirit, for sure: but I'm called to work alongside the Holy Spirit - and that means doing the work. Which in this sort of situation translates as thorough preparation. He's at work, so I'm at work, and together we'll see the task done.

So I try to make some time today to do such preparation.

There are interruptions, of course. Other things requiring my attention. People who are needing to discuss some urgent matters and to get some issues clear.

Douglas is in for his lunch, and there's time for prayer with him. He's encouraged by what's now going on down the road at Holy Cross. They've a website up and running now, a symbol of the progress that there's been. There's a sense of all sorts of things now coming together in a way that hasn't been true for years.

It's the same here, too. There's a sense of there being those silent 'rumblings' as the Lord begins to move: you have to have your ear right close to the ground to hear these gentle 'rumblings', for sure - but they're there!

The Lion has risen and is trampling through the undergrowth today!

There are folk to be seen as always, of course. And calls to be made. And e-mails to write. And deadlines to meet. And admin to do. And a lot of organising still to do, related to all sorts of things the coming days will bring.

I could happily use a 48 hour day, and still be looking for more of that wonderful commodity called time. But, like everyone else, I only ever get a 24 hour day!

I have to use it wisely, fully, well. I only get it once!

shaking

There's very little let-up at present. The days are full, the weeks are short, and there's much that's going in.

Most of my Mondays for the last few weeks (and into the forthcoming weeks, too, about as far as the eye can see) have been taken up with my meeting with other Christian leaders in a range of different contexts.

These are hugely significant days. Almost certainly more so than most folk really imagine.

There's a great verse towards the end of Malachi, the final book of the Old Testament.

"Then those who feared the Lord talked with each other, and the Lord listened and heard." [Mal.3.16]

Something important is happening when there is this coming together to talk of those who fear the Lord. And something important will follow as well.

The Lord sits in on all the conversation, on all that's being said. It's not that he's quietly eavesdropping. Anything but. Those who gather like that to talk are keen that he be very much the centre of it all. We're talking together with him and about him and from him.

And he hears. Not just in the sense that it all somehow registers with him. But in a far more potent sense. He hears and responds. He hears and heeds.

Something is triggered in heaven by such people thus gathering together to talk: the streams of grace start to flow. The Lion of Judah is roused and starts to move.

These are the days in which we're living. And this coming together of leaders, in all sorts of different contexts, is as good an indication as you'll get that something important's afoot.

But it does make for weeks seem that much shorter!

Today saw me off and away for the bulk of the day. And the evening's been filled with some visits to folk - and then some preparation, too, since I've the assembly at school which I'm leading tomorrow first thing.

These are days of great 'shaking'. What we have seen, and are seeing, politically (in Tunisia, Egypt and Libya, for instance) and geologically (in Christchurch and Japan, for instance), is strangely mirroring a profound 'shaking' which increasingly is being felt spiritually as well.

"And you will again see the distinction between the righteous and the wicked, between those who serve God and those who do not." [Mal.3.18]

That's how the prophet goes on. That's the sequel to what he's said before. That's what happens more and more when those who fear the Lord start coming together to talk with each other before the Lord - and when the Lord himself responds.

There's a sifting. A massive spiritual shake-up, which sorts the stones from the earth.

prayer and fasting

Ash Wednesday. The start of 'Lent'.

An appropriate day for a day of prayer and fasting with a view to the forthcoming 'General Assembly', when big church gets together and addresses all the issues that are out there to be faced.

A whole load of congregations up and down the land have been marking today like that. And not only here in Scotland. Hundreds, maybe even thousands in America, resolved that they would join us in this day of prayer and fasting with that big May meeting in view.

And millions in China as well. The whole House Church movement in China was mobilised and engaged to pray and fast for the Church of Scotland at this time. That's an awful lot of people and an awful lot of praying and an awful lot of urgency in our crying out to God.

Did we know so many folk do really care about what happens here? Did we really grasp the fact that God himself is that concerned he puts it in the hearts of all these people to be joining thus in prayer?

Something big is surely going on when a massive, millions-strong army of seasoned praying warriors way out east is mobilised like this to pray.

There was a sense of that throughout today. A powerful word at the lunch-time service: the Lord very present indeed.

There was, of course, lunch for those that wished - there isn't a three-line whip! But I skipped the lunch and got things sorted out and ready for the afternoon session when our 'Upper Room' was open for leaders from across the city to gather and join in a time of prayer together.

We broke the afternoon into three hour long sessions. People drifted in and out, but along with the chance to talk a bit, we were able to read the Scriptures and spend some good long time each hour in prayer.

There was no great rush to get back for tea (it's a day of prayer and fasting after all!). But we'd organised an evening on the south side of the town where folk from all the different congregations could gather again for prayer.

Again, a great spirit prevailed. Urgent, earnest praying in the confidence that something's going on, the Lord's at work. We prayed that the fire of the Lord would fall - the fire of the Spirit of God.

We looked at what happened a long time ago at another general assembly. Elijah on Mount Carmel, confronted with a rampant form of Baalism within the church of the day, hopelessly outnumbered as he addressed his appeal to the floating voters with his make-your-mind-up message - How long will you waver between two opinions? - in the context of a 'gospel' that'd been thoroughly watered down.

All very pertinent stuff!

And then prayer. A simple, specific, God-honouring prayer. Let the fire fall. And it did.

And we trust it will!

more consequences

Last week at the SU group we got the children to play a game of Consequences. Fairly innocuous 'X met Y...' sort of stuff.

Not all of them made much sense, but some interesting little stories emerged. Like this one -

"Ben met Jacqueline at Edinburgh.

He said to her, 'I love you.'

She said to him, 'Do you want to go to the swimming pool with me?'

And the consequence was that they had a baby."

Consequences.

Sometimes our actions, however small they may seem, have consequences way beyond what we'd have imagined.

It's been a busy few days, and today, I knew from the start, was going to be full and quite rushed. A bit like yesterday, when I was chairing an all-day meeting of folk out of town and then was back for an evening of important pastoral ministry in the home of one of our members.

So this morning I was down first thing, a good bit before 7.30am. There were soups to be made, for a start.

However ...

The previous night the tap on the automatic boiler in the kitchen (which gives us boiling water round the clock) had been left a tiny fraction on.

Not a trickle of water or anything like that, just a steady little drip into the tray at the base of the boiler. So small as to be easily overlooked when closing down for the day the previous night.

But come the morning when I went in first thing the kitchen floor was flooded. A steady drip through the hours of the night can soon amount to a massive pool of water! So the soup-making's right-away postponed. There's a floor to be mopped and flood damage now to be remedied.

Once done, I left the bucket and mop in the corridor and got the soup on the go. Then out by the fire exit to dispose of the water I'd collected from the flooding on the floor.

Except it's a very windy morning and the fire door blows shut behind me. Now I'm locked out of the building completely - and left standing in the vestibule (it at least was open which was just as well because the wind was cold and raw) with my apron on. Twiddling my thumbs and waiting for someone with keys.

It's a healthy reminder from the Lord, I realise, that it's not what I do that counts. Sometimes he takes us out of the frame to make his point.

He anaesthetised Abram and sent him to sleep, after all. To underline the point that it's he, the Lord, who does it all. We do well to remember that.

Well, a keyholder arrived, and I got round to the school for the first of two assemblies I'd be at - a little late, for sure, but better late than never.

Then back to the halls to begin to address a pastoral crisis which I've been alerted to. And then a quick rush round to the school again for the assembly mark 2 (this time the younger pupils).

From there it's off to a meeting to do with our pastoral ministry here. I have to leave before, I think, they're finished, as I'm meeting up with Douglas and going off to the local fraternal.

I'm back just in time to be coming through the doors just a few short steps ahead of the folk I've arranged to meet at 2pm. A family right in the midst of terrible grief after the death of their 23 year old son. Time with them cannot be rushed. I feel their pain acutely.

They're barely gone before I'm seeing the person whose crisis I had learned about this morning. There's more pain. Consequences really.

Consequences of things now way in the past. And consequences, too, of choices being made in the present.

We're complicated people; and life is full of heartache. Oh for heaven, when the sorrows, tears and fault-lines in our make-up will be gone!

I've a quick turn-around over tea, including the chance to see a friend from ages back (I can't say an old friend, because she's not that old!), before a full-length meeting at night at which, not least, we're looking at the congregation's finances.

There are matters to concern us here. We live in harsh economic times. Everyone's feeling the pain.

But we're having to think about consequences once again. Can we really afford to sustain a new appointment? Can we really afford not to?

And how are we best going to foster a culture of giving and its consequence of growth?

coming together

All sorts of things are finally coming together. Not my words, but those of Douglas, the minister friend with whom I share a weekly lunch and a regular time of prayer.

I know, you're thinking it's usually a Tuesday that Douglas and I have lunch. But these are days of turmoil and change, and if there ever was a thing resembling routine in my life, it's certainly disappeared!

Thursdays have changed to Tuesdays, so far as the school is concerned. At least in the main. The assemblies are no longer held in the school today.

But Scripture Union is. Again there's a crowd of children. High as kites. We play a round of 'Consequences'. It's fun, and they all enjoy it.

Then we're into the text of Scripture and seeing how our words and deeds always have consequences too. We need to be careful in how we live. Jesus' way is best.

My morning's been filled with people. Some by arrangement, others hae just called by. There are things to discuss and work through. If Facebook's a guide to how things have gone, then it's not wasted time -

"Many thanks for your counsel today, much appreciated."

My lunch and time spent in prayer with Douglas is short. I've another call to make in the early afternoon. This one affecting the future.

And then some further calls as well. And I'm conscious the time is slipping by, time that I'd planned should be used with tomorrow in mind. There's a service of thanksgiving here in the late afternoon.

I then thought this evening might afford me some time for that. But it doesn't work out quite like that. I'm seeing a couple with marriage in mind. And the time flies by again. We spend some good time together. Important time.

The Lord is very much there. There are tears. Something quite remarkable is going on. Tears from a person who doesn't do tears by and large (so I'm told - this is the first time I've met them). They're a lovely couple, and the Lord has pitched up and it's just like the springtime's arrived and the snows of strange longing are starting to melt in their lives - and that's why the tears start to flow.

There's something here that I think they've both been longing for. For years. It's the Lord for whom they're longing, without a doubt. We commit to seek his blessing on their lives.

All sorts of things are finally coming together for them as well.

Exciting, remarkable days.

peace in the storms

Perhaps the 'spicey' soup I made today was symbolic. Variety is the spice of life and every day is certainly different.

Not just different from other days, but different from what I'd planned. A day very rarely works out the way I had anticipated.

There was the soup-making bit at the start, of course. And then along to the school - with the assemblies now re-arranged each week for a Tuesday rather than a Thursday.

Even the Head is taking his time getting used to that. "I have to get myself organised a lot earlier in the week," he confessed. I guess it leaves him free-er later on.

'Forgiveness' is the theme this month. I'm getting to lead a 'whole-school' assembly in a couple of weeks and that will be my theme as well. It's a good gospel theme after all. And it ties in well with Easter.

Back from there to a pre-wedding meeting with the bride-to-be and her mother. The wedding takes place on Saturday (though I'm not the officiating minister) and there were all sorts of things to work through with them both in relation to the ceremony in the church.

Weddings can be a hugely stressful thing for those most closely involved. I recognise I always have a part to play in easing the tensions and calming the nerves and putting folk right at their ease. Jesus brings peace.

Today was no exception. Folk want to know the day will all be just fine. I try to help them see just why it will be so. Talking them through the whole thing. Walking them through the whole thing.

It takes some time, but it's always worth that investment.

From there it was off to a leaders' lunch-time get-together in a different part of town. A chance to touch base with some men who've been friends for years. To meet and talk and then, at the end, to have the time to pray together, too.

Back to some admin that was long overdue. Then out again to see some folk. Then back to call the local firm of undertakers. A funeral they'll be having to arrange in the days ahead.

A young man died in an accident over the weekend at a a 4x4 rally event. How suddenly everything can change. Not only vehicles, but lives and families can be turned upside down in an instant.

I'm out at night to see his grandmother, one of our older members. The young man's mother and father are there as well. His brother too. What pain there is in grief.

There are a couple of other homes to be calling by, too. Different needs. Different situations. Some full of anticipation and excitement. Some full of disappointment and worry.

Jesus had compassion on the people. I understand that.

It's a privilege to be given a feel for that in my day by day life.

Whatever it is people face - he's there.