life

No two days are ever the same. Except for their being pretty full!

I have the enormous privilege of sharing with folk in the highs and the lows of their lives.

This morning again I had time with Calum; he's shortly to be starting as minister up at Macduff, and this was really his last main chance to touch base with me here before he goes. It's a daunting prospect for any young man - but exciting, too. And there's lots he wants to talk about.

I forget sometimes that I'm actually getting older: and I suppose as well it sometimes doesn't really cross my mind that a younger generation wants to tap in to the reservoir of decades-long experience I've gained.

The time that we have flies by. There's never the time to pursue all we want to be covering. But I share his keen expectancy, and have no doubt that he'll be greatly used by God in following through that calling to Macduff.

There's the lunch-time service next. The last for a while as we take a bit of a break through the next few weeks as the schools move into holiday mode.

Being the last of the 'term', we celebrate the sacrament. The bread and wine are passed along the pews. There are those for whom this is, I think, the first time in long years that they have taken part in this; a tangible way of their welcoming Jesus himself into their hearts and lives.

It's a simple, moving service, centred round the briefest exposition of the Word, remembering that Jesus Christ has brought us near: to God - and also to each other. A communion service.

There's something very fitting in our sitting round the tables in the hall and sharing lunch together once the service in the church is done. A sense of belonging, being bound to each other in Christ.

There are 'lows' in life as well, of course. And through the afternoon I'm spending time with people who have recently been bereaved. Mainly those well up in years, for whom their own impending death must plainly be quite soon. I mean, when you're up in your nineties you know you don't have ages still to go.

We talk about Jesus, and why he's so different from anyone else, and why it's because of all that he's done that we're able to cherish the hope that our death isn't really the end.

One lady hasn't been at worship for long years. She used to be at worship in the dim and distant past: but 'other things' crept in. Things which made it hard for her to share in weekly worship, so the habit of a worship-less observance of a Sunday slowly formed. A very hard habit to kick.

She seems glad to be able to talk about Jesus again. It somehow helps to buttress what small hope she has been fostering in her heart. But there's masses of ground to make up with her. Years and years of the soil of her heart remaining simply fallow and unploughed.

It's best that our hearts are being 'ploughed' and 'harrowed' and sown with the seed of God's Word when we're young. Or at least a good deal younger than ninety!

So I'm meeting with folk in the evening as well and we're working away at the Scriptures. Seeking to learn what they mean. Seeking to see how the Scriptures apply to our lives. Bedding the seed of the Word in the soil of these teachable hearts.

And seeing the growth which then follows is a privilege, joy and delight!

giving

As the heat of the sun melts the glacier ice, so our hearts are finally melted by the warmth of God's love in Christ. Giving best flows from gratitude, not guilt.

We've been working at this for a while, the issue of our giving. Not just giving in financial terms, of course, though that as often as not is a good and helpful guide to the state of our hearts.

We want to cultivate a culture of giving, a pattern of living where generous, costly giving is very much the essence of our way of life.

We want to preach Jesus, in other words. We want him to to be seen and honoured and known.

But how does that cutlure of giving come about?

Certainly not through guilt. Guilt is to giving what duty is to doing. As a motivating factor, it only ever gets you just a little way along the road at best.

I saw someone tonight who exemplified that pretty well. You're making me feel guilty! he said, when I asked him, a member elsewhere of Christ's church, where he'd worshipped since coming here four or five years ago.

It wasn't a loaded question at all. But it felt to the man like the question was laden with guilt. Such guilt can make a person pitch up at our worship, I suppose. But I'm not under any illusions that such feelings of guilt will really effect major change. Guilt may get him to worship: but it won't ever keep him there.

Guilt like that may chip little bits of the glacier ice away. But it won't ever melt the whole mass. Something more is needed. The warmth of the love of the Lord. A profound and overwhleming sense of gratitude.

Grace is a pre-requisite for a culture of giving.

The grace of God being preached. The grace of God being lived. The grace of God being felt and known. The grace of God pervading all our life. Our words, our conversations. Our friendships, our relationships. Our actions, our reactions. Our outlook and our attitudes.

Grace in every single fibre of our corporate life.

A group of us here have been meeting together a few times now to think this whole thing through. We were meeting again this evening. And, again, I think we made some progress.

It's not just giving as such which we want to promote - though there are good practical reasons at present for needing to do just that ('balancing the books' is the phrase which springs to mind)! It's a culture of giving which we're wanting to foster and grow.

And that always starts with grace.

The most extended treatment of this theme which Scripture gives is found in Paul's second surviving letter to the church at Corinth. For two whole chapters the guy goes on at length about the principles of giving. He starts with grace.

"We want you to know about the grace that God has given the Macedonian churches."

It's a work of God, a work of God's grace in the hearts of these glacier men.

"Out of the most severe trial, their overflowing joy and their extreme poverty welled up in rich generosity."

Not the most auspicious set of circumstances, you'd have thought - severe trial and extreme poverty. But it's joy which prompts their giving. Gratitude and sheer delight in God: not guilt or any sense of duty.

Grace.

"For you know the grace of our (note that possessive pronoun!) Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that you through his poverty might become rich."

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ.

It's where he begins, and it's where he ends as well.

"Because of the service by which you have proved yourselves, men will praise God for the obedience that accompanies your confession of the gospel of Christ, and for your generosity in sharing with them and with everyone else. And in their prayers for you their hearts will go out to you, because of the surpassing grace God has given you. Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!"

Grace and gratitude.

A potent combination!

revolution or evolution?

If you want to move forward, is revolution preferable to evolution?

The one is high-risk, often quite painful and costly, but at least has the merits of speed, closure and certainty. The change has been effected and everyone knows where they stand. They may not like it, but at least there's no confusion.

The other is gentler, slower, and more overtly sensitive to need people have for time and space when countenancing change. But it suffers from the danger that the time of transition can often be very confused, and the change may never actually happen.

It's the classic how-do-you-get-into-the-swimming-pool sort of question. Do you take a running jump, or gingerly ease your way in down the steps at the shallow end?

Is change meant to be a gradual thing? Or a sudden and radical turn-around?

I guess there's no simple answer. In most places the sun rises slowly and the light of dawn creeps bit by bit across the morning sky. But at the equator both sunrise and sunset are quick. Dark becomes light in an instant almost.

It depends a bit where you are.

Most of the time the change which takes place in God's world is gradual and slow. Spring comes slowly. The flowers take time to grow into blossom and bloom.

But sometimes it's sudden and rapid.

My day's been spent debating such issues in one sort of context and another. How does change happen? How do we bring it about?

Do we go for broke (the spirit of the revolution)? Or do we work away with patient grace and faithfulness, content to seek a merely slow and incremental growth (the way of 'evolution')?

They're not easy questions. And there aren't ever any easy answers.

Jehovah Jireh

Wednesdays mark a mid-point through our week.

I always know the benefit of the chance to pause and to join with others in worship. It's not long - a mere half hour or so - but those moments of worship together are manna to the soul.

We've quite a large number of elderly folk for whom that sort of service works well. Right time of day, and right length of time. Plus there's a shared lunch afterwards The full package: fuel for the soul and the body. What we all need, no matter our age or stage.

It's another service to prepare for, of course. And there are all sorts of things on the go today, with much to be done with a view to the time on Friday with the children from the school, and people to be seen, and issues to be worked through.

And the 'annual meeting' of the congregation at night to be prepared for too.

There aren't that many out at the meeting tonight. I'm never quite sure why that's so. People have busy lives, I know, and the prospect of another evening out is often not attractive one small bit.

But it's good to take stock from time to time. And in doing so tonight for the first time in all of the years I've been here it's clear that we're now being obliged to be looking in faith to the Lord. The sums don't add up in terms of our giving these days. We're having to look to the Lord to provide.

We've found ourselves constrained by the Lord to appoint a Development Ministries Leader. But when you check our income for last year and factor in a salary for this new post - well, you're left asking the sort of question Isaac asked his Dad when climbing Mount Moriah.

I can see the fire and the wood, okay, Dad. "But where is the lamb for the burnt offering?"

Translated into our own situation - Where's the money to pay for this post?

An awkward question for Dad to be having to answer. Abraham was very clear about God's call. This is what the Lord had said to do.

It made no sense from a merely human point of view, it simply didn't add up. Sometimes that's the way it is in following Christ.

But the call of God was clear. And so the answer that he gave his son was pretty clear as well. "God himself will provide..."

It became a pivotal moment in the life of Abraham's family: a foundational truth in the way they lived their lives.

They called that place The Lord Will Provide.

That's where we're at ourselves these days. And it's no bad place to be. Scary, for sure. There must have been a sick feeling in the pit of Abraham's stomach. Humanly this was him pressing the self-destruct button.

But that dying to self and living entirely for Christ is the platform for his resurrecting power to be released.

Hudson Taylor, the pioneering missionary to China, had two plaques on his sitting room wall, I seem to recall. One said Ebenezer - "hitherto the Lord has helped us." The other said Jehovah Jireh - "the Lord will provide."

He's not let us down in the past. We'll trust him for the future!

Are you up for the ride?

Aslan on the move

Tuesdays always start at speed these days.

The soups have to be made before I'm off to the school for the first of the two assemblies at 9am. By the time I'm back from the school it's after half past ten, and half the morning has gone!

Today I'd agreed to meet with folk at 11am, with a view to the 2 hour 'Easter presentation' which we hold for the P7 pupils on Friday of this week. There's a team of about 8 of us who'll lead the children through that time: we need to get our act together, know what each is doing, and how it'll all fit together. It's a useful time, and we're all looking forward to the time with the pupils this week.

It's great fun, a wonderful opportunity to help get clear what Easter is really all about, and it's lovely having the children along at our halls. So it's more than worth the effort to ensure that it all runs smoothly and well.

But it's almost time for my weekly meeting with Douglas. The morning again has flown.

It's good to have the time to talk and pray things through each week with Douglas. There's a certain sort of buzz about the place along the road at Holy Cross these days, where Douglas is. Things are happening. Maybe the outside observer would miss it all. But to a man like Douglas, attuned to the work of the Spirit of God, it's thoroughly unmistakeable. He hasn't known anything like it in all of the years that he's been here.

In a strange sort of way it mirrors what's happening here. Something's afoot. In the language of the Narnia Chronicles, Aslan's on the move. We're glad of the chance to pray, and are conscious in praying God's purpose is thereby being furthered.

Once Douglas is gone, there's another member of the team involved in Friday's 'Easter presentation' to be seen. She couldn't manage this morning, and this is her first time involved in the thing, so I need to work the whole thing through with her and put her mind at rest.

Prayer reflects our dependence on the Lord. Preparation reflects his involvement of us in his work. We are his co-workers. We have to do the work.

At night there are two rather different meetings to attend. The first up town, with big church leaders from around the city of Edinburgh. The second a team of folk from wee church here, applying our minds to the practical issues relating to our giving as a people in these days.

And before I know it, another whole day has gone by!

There's a lot going on. Aslan's on the move. That's the deepest truth about these days.

It's important for us to be ready.

attractive

A meeting day. Meeting different people, at different points, all through the day.

Folk were coming from all over the country to a meeting here from late morning through until mid-afternoon. One arrived good and early - before I was back from seeing some other people. He was highly impressed by the welcome he received from the lady who does our cleaning here.

She's a marvel. Her cleaning is top of the range in terms of the work that she does. And she's always so amazingly warm and welcoming - to absolutely everyone. This guy was so impressed by her that he felt obliged to comment on the welcome that he was given.

That's how it's meant to be.

The gospel lived out in the lives of his people. it's very powerful stuff.

We were reading the other Sunday morning what Paul has to say to Titus about teaching his people to translate the gospel into every sphere of their lives, including their working lives -

".. so that in every way they will make the teaching about God our Saviour attractive."

That's exactly what this lady invariably does! An object lesson for us all.

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!