A good Sunday

Maybe someone's been praying especially hard for me. Maybe I'm on a post-holiday high. But yesterday was a particularly good day. As I wrote yesterday, I appreciated the service from Greenbelt on the radio. Then it was good meeting friends again at the real church service here. There was a large baptism party there; I always enjoy it when people, by hook or by crook, are welcomed into the church. Jane was on crèche duty, looking after the youngest children. One dad came in who'd lived his whole life in Grove and had never entered the church before. I hope he was pleasantly surprised by how friendly and normal Christians can be - like Jane!

It was a pleasant sunny day, which always helps, and as Jane hadn't had a service in the morning we took ourselves off to St Aldate's church in Oxford, after I'd set the record button on Songs of Praise and Countryfile on TV. We'd hoped for some up-lifting worship, but when we got there and had a chair removed for my wheelchair, the church seemed a quarter full (it did get fuller!), there was no sign of the band, and eventually the curate stood up and told us to be ready for anything. We looked at each other, thinking, "Bank Holiday weekend - maybe everyone, including the musicians, is having a night off - leaving one chap to wing it!" So it was a great relief when he invited the band up, and the worship songs started. It was a good relaxed service. Best, for me, was the sermon given by Laura Gallacher, the young student pastor, on "The Spirit who satisfies". The Bible passage was John 7.37-39, where Jesus stands up in the Temple at the climax of the Festival of Tabernacles and cries out, "If anyone thirsts, let them come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, 'Out of their heart will flow rivers of living water.'" St John comments that Jesus was talking about the Holy Spirit who had not yet been poured out. (Listen to "The Spirit who satisfies" here.)

Because of the way the sermon was structured I can still recall its main points. The message was that thirst is a universal human condition, spiritually as well as physically, and that Jesus satisfies the thirst of all: the parched (who've never tasted His Spirit's refreshing), the quenched (who have tasted it in the past, but have run dry), the waiting (those who feel He won't return), and the wanting (those who have taken to substitutes to satisfy their thirst). There was more of course to the sermon than that. Two more points come back to me. The Bible's story of God's dealing with humanity begins and finishes with flowing water, with the rivers in Eden and the river flowing from the throne for the healing of the nations in Revelation. But there's also meant to be this river in the middle of the story, flowing from those who believe in Jesus - which is why it's so vital that we take up Jesus' loud invitation, "Let them come to me," because that's the source of spiritual refreshing for a parched society. The other point was that the opening of the floodgates for the Spirit began when Jesus shared the universal human condition on the cross, "I thirst," as St John also records. (I remember the great Bible teacher, John McKay, commenting that the sour wine He then drank inaugurated the Kingdom.) It was a challenging but realistic sermon. We were glad we'd driven in. On the way home there was a spectacular sunset to our right.

Then, before going to bed, I thought I'd see what Songs of Praise had been like. It was advertised as "The Great Outdoors" with Eamonn Holmes - not very promising, I thought; probably one of these cobbled-together holiday-type programmes frequent in the summer. I had to eat my thoughts! The hymns were mainly traditional, but they tied in with the interviews. A bit slow, but interesting light accompaniments. However, the three interviews were cracking, especially the first with a champion surfer, called Andy Hill. "A former atheist, Andy says a period of illness 11 years ago put big life questions back on the table. He researched a lot of religions looking for answers and Christianity was the only one that made sense. Now, his faith is everything and he’s an enthusiastic member of his local church. While he still loves surfing – and still competes – he’s just as passionate about sharing his faith with others." He was an example, it seemed to me, of someone who'd found his thirst satisfied by Jesus and who was a conduit to others. The same was true of the other two interviewees: with a couple of Ulster's rugby team and with a hard-core mountain-biker. As a bonus, there was an item from the excellent band, Rend Collective Experiment, "Build Your Kingdom here", and the different but equally good, Keith and Kristyn Getty. Altogether a rich programme, to end a refreshing day.

Paradise....

There was morning worship today on Radio 4 from the Greenbelt Festival. I've never been there, but have listened to talks given there, in particular by John O'Donohue who died four years ago. Greenbelt, from what I gather, combines strands of Celtic Christianity and social engagement. It's altogether quieter than something like New Wine! However, the message of this morning's act of worship was pretty hard core.

"loving company"

It seemed to be that Paradise, to which humans aspire and which lies out of reach in this life, is not to be found in escaping into the beauty of creation (the garden) but in entering into relationship with God and with others (the heavenly city). So Jesus says to the dying thief on the cross, "Today you will be with me in Paradise." This rang true with my experience of the holiday from which I've just returned - see my "Dancing Donkey" blog. What made it special wasn't the beautiful surroundings, though we were in the Brecon Beacons; it was the loving company I was with.

The picture of Paradise in Revelation 21 - which I have found impossible to read aloud without aching tears for some years - is of the most intimate of human relationships, husband and wife. "Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, 'Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain any more, for the former things have passed away.'" That's how deep a relationship the eternal God longs to have with the human beings He made, if only they'd say Yes to His proposal of love! Incredible, but true. Relation, not creation, lies at the heart of Paradise.

The Greenbelt service included this thoughtful prayer:
"God of all, we are grateful that Paradise is not lost, 
in spite of us, our sin against You, each other and our wilful neglect of the world and the resources entrusted to us. 
Indeed we realise that in Your great love You secure the promise of Paradise because of us. 
Wherever deep and true relationship exists between people and with God, Paradise is not lost. 
So, Lord, whenever we are blinded by the pain and turmoil of this broken world 
and lose sight of the harmony of Paradise that was, can now be and is yet to come, 
remind us once again of the cross of Jesus and of the lengths to which You have gone 
to manifest both the power and possibility of Paradise."

At New Wine an inspiring Salvation Army officer, Danielle Strickland, mentioned a hymn written by William Booth which I'd never heard before. However, I got the point. It's about the power and possibility of Paradise. It's a similar thought to Frederick Faber's "we make His love too narrow / with false limits of our own". Why did God go to such lengths? 
"O boundless salvation! deep ocean of love,
O fullness of mercy, Christ brought from above,
The whole world redeeming, so rich and so free,
Now flowing for all men, come, roll over me!" (If, like me, you didn't know it, you can learn it here on YouTube!) 

O boundless salvation! deep ocean of love: yes!

Less Eeyore

You may have gathered I have, for the moment at least, decided to maintain both my blogs. I'm glad there's some consistency between them but I think they're different. Anyhow, I've decided to try to be brief!

The final quote which I can remember from New Wine came, I think, from Simon Ponsonby, the Oxford theologian and preacher, and it went something like,
"We have too much Eeyore and not enough 'in awe' in our worship."
Eeyore, you'll remember from A A Milne's Winnie the Pooh was constitutionally glum in diametric contrast to the irrepressibly bouncy Tigger.

Simon clearly wasn't recommending we adopt Tiggerish immaturity in our worship, that we should bounce around with never a care in the world. If the galaxies in the night sky elicit a reaction of awe in us, how much more should the God who brought them into being! He is a mystery beyond our comprehending. AWE is the right response. BUT that doesn't mean miserable.

It doesn't mean singing everything in a minor key; it doesn't mean singing only hymns; it doesn't even means keeping your hands down by your side and standing to attention. Yes, our God is an awesome God, BUT He loves us. In fact He loves the whole cosmos - and He loves you. As a child might say -  "Wow!" That's awe, and it should make us celebrate wildly. The Jubilee crowds in the Mall and the Olympic Stadium on the Saturdays didn't have as much to cheer about! God is love!

However, it's not just about Sunday services that Simon was talking. As they say at Bethel in California, "Worship is a lifestyle." We are loved and we have hope. We should be filled with the Spirit of worship every day. That should keep us from being like Eeyore!

I'm just back from praying outside a psychic fair. People drifted in looking depressed and walked out again looking equally sad. They clearly had not found peace or joy. There's better on offer, folks! "I have come to bring you life in all its fulness" (Jesus).

God made him fast

Here's a fascinating account of Usain Bolt, the flawed but unashamed Christian: Diary of a WIP: The BBC and Christianity. You might not have been aware of it. I certainly wasn't.

No hands but ours?

"Transformation is nearer than temptation."

This was again a watchword of Alan Scott's. I took it as a reminder that God is constantly proactive and creative, whereas the devil is just opportunistic. Sometimes we are overwhelmed by a sense of failure or of facing overwhelming odds. However, it's not true.

Healing of lame man (St Peter's, Rome)

The truth is that "God is for us", i.e. on our side, or as Jesus put it, "He who is in you is greater than he who is in the world." And the point is this: that we are the means through which God wants to transform the world. It's not just about our transformation. God wants to transform the world He made and we keep spoiling. He wants to restore it to His original intention, through us, His Church - which means we can't retreat behind closed doors. Like the Pentecost Church we have to spill out on to the streets. However, doing so under our own steam, because we've "got the idea", isn't transformative. The apostles are told to "wait... until you are clothed with power from on high", i.e. until they receive God's Spirit.

God's life-giving touch (Sistine Chapel)

Ironically, it is our emptiness, our feeling of failure and inadequacy, which best forms a channel for God's love to flow to others. That is utterly counter-intuitive and incredible. But it's true because He is even keener and more able to transform His creation than evil is to thwart Him. He wants to fill us to bring His glory to the world. I have a feeling that this is what St Paul meant by "Christ in you, the hope of glory". I always thought it meant the hope of our glory; now I think it means "Jesus in us is the hope of the creation's restored glory". The reassuring truth remains that it's not through our best laid plans and efforts but through our being who we are in Christ and letting His Spirit have a say that God's transformation happens.  

Come, Holy Spirit!

The lifestyle of lovers

Here's something else that struck me from this year's New Wine. I think this came from Alan Scott.

"Ask questions in His presence. Asking questions is the lifestyle of lovers."

It is after all the nature of love to ask questions - that's how lovers get to know each other. It's all right for us to ask God questions. Ask Him questions not about our brokenness but about His love. I think he's right, that asking each other questions is natural in a healthy relationship. Isn't it natural for us to ask, "Lord, I don't understand how this comes out of your love. Can you tell me?" There can be a difference in the context of our questions, of course. You can ask really not wanting the answer, like Pilate's "What is truth?"or even not believing that God is real. Or you can ask sincerely, because you don't understand how your experience and God's love match up, like "My God, why have you abandoned me?" That's a lover's question.

That rings true, doesn't it? Asking questions of God is the stuff of a true relationship with Him. My friend, Nicky, calls God "Daddy". He is the perfect Father. Who more appropriate to bring our concerns to? Who more natural to seek explanations from? Who better to trust?

Beauty for ashes

You might like to read my Diary of a Dancing Donkey blog, where I described what Julian of Norwich  called a "revelation of divine love". We spent last week at the New Wine Festival, a big gathering of Christians in Somerset, which led to my starting this blog a year ago.

Gorgeous Grace - Click for link

In the end it was an encouraging time for me. On the way I noted things which people said. Unfortunately I was just using my iPod on which I'm very slow, and so they may be approximate quotes. Anyway here's the first of them, from Karen Jones - who's recently published her first novel with the unlikely title of The Babe's Bible - Gorgeous Grace, which I am reliably informed is gripping. As I was saying, here's the quote:

"Our sufferings cost us too much to waste them."

It's true, isn't it? We can either nurse our pains and almost cherish them, clinging to them rather like Gollum and his "my precious" ring. Or we can release them and use them more like St Paul who used his afflictions "to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God." 

I think Karen was thinking not only of that, but also of our suffering being a seedbed for the growth of our own maturity and our relationship with God. We can regard suffering as entirely negative and destructive, or we can allow it to be turned to good. I say "allow" as I don't think it's merely a matter of the will. Paul talks about "the God of all comfort" who enables us to pass on the comfort we've received. That has to be the work of the Holy Spirit. And equally it's Him who turns our ashes into a crown of beauty and gives us a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair (Isaiah 61). It's certainly true that when we're going through suffering like depression or bereavement it doesn't lie in our power to drag ourselves into the light, not really. We may put on a brave face, but it always conceals a weeping heart. But God... "is able to do immeasurably more than we ask or imagine". YIPPEE! 

"Weeping may last through the night,    
but joy comes with the morning."   
So I wait for you....