For some reason

For some reason, after breakfast today, this old hymn popped into my brain. It is old, written by Synesius of Cyrene in about AD 430. The tune is Elizabethan, composed by William Daman (from The Psalmes of David in English metre). I love the tune. This version is an abbreviation of the whole poem, but it works well, I think.

Lord Jesus, think on me

Lord Jesus, think on me
And purge away my sin;
From earthborn passions set me free
And make me pure within.

Lord Jesus, think on me,
With many a care oppressed;
Let me Thy loving servant be
And taste Thy promised rest.

Lord Jesus, think on me
Amid the battle’s strife;
In all my pain and misery
Be Thou my Health and Life.

Lord Jesus, think on me
Nor let me go astray;
Through darkness and perplexity
Point Thou the heavenly way.

Lord Jesus, think on me
When floods the tempest high;
When on doth rush the enemy,
O Saviour, be Thou nigh!

Lord Jesus, think on me
That, when the flood is past,
I may th’eternal brightness see
And share Thy joy at last.

Lord Jesus, think on me
That I may sing above
To Father, Spirit, and to Thee
The strains of praise and love.
                 (translated from Greek by Allen W Chatfield in 1876)

We don't often sing worship songs which acknowledge the harshness and perplexity of human life. Perhaps we should sing more of them - with hope at the end. I hope you find it helpful.

“I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.”

It's clearly been a month since I posted on this blog because yesterday morning we were back in St Andrew's Church, Cullompton. Once again we were down visiting Jane's parents. We have developed a routine which means we drive down to Sidmouth on Saturday morning, spend the afternoon with the in-laws after I have ascended their Everest of a path and stay the night at the very convenient and comfortable Park and Lodge at Westcott.

Somehow we usually manage to arrive in Cullompton when they have "all-age" worship. This time it was a beautiful day. It had brought the tortoisehell butterflies out of hibernation in the church, around the windows and under the barrel roof. When Jane had manoeuvred me down the ramp, we were both given a pebble.... It became clear why soon. Jo, the children's worker, explained that members of the school's Kidzone Club of whom there were a lot present would be involved. And they were! She was telling the story of the two houses built on rock and on sand. When the rain came down, the water pistols came out and we got wet! And the house on sand went CRASH! The pebbles of course were symbols of the rock, and we'd written our names on them. They were also linked to Jesus renaming Simon as Peter the rock.

When it came to the prayers we were told to look under the pews where there were small containers of bubbles. "Now quietly think of someone about whom you're concerned or a worrying situation you're in. Then as a symbol of releasing those worries to God, blow those bubbles into the air." What a good action prayer! Since I can't blow bubbles anymore, I held the stone in my hand as I committed friends to the One who is the Rock. Somehow, for me at least, it was a more engaging form of prayer than the usual intercessions led from the front.

There is much more that I could comment on. They obviously have a talented writer of original worship songs - including action ones for children. I always like churches writing their own songs and singing new songs to the Lord, as the psalmist urged. And of course they sung one of my current favourites, My hope is built on nothing less (Cornerstone). I have been reflecting on why an old grouch like me should actually be so touched and helped by a service packed with all ages, but particularly children. I mean it all makes for a fair amount of chaos and "toing and froing", not exactly the passive reverence of much worship. Yet perhaps that is the point. It is very much worship. It is clearly surrounded by prayer. It's carefully prepared (160 pots of bubbles for a starter!). And it all focuses on God - and I suspect the presence of the children is a means of grace. "Unless you become like children, you will never enter the Kingdom of heaven": I have a feeling that in such services we are privileged to follow the kids into that Kingdom and receive from the King.

Thank you again, Cullompton!

Devonian refreshment

At the weekend we drove to Devon to visit Jane's parents and spent a very happy Saturday with them. On the way home, we spent a night at the very convenient Park and Lodge near Cullompton and then went to church in the ancient magnificent parish church. It has a wonderful wagon roof and rood screen. Built in red Devon sandstone with a tall tower, its upkeep must be an expensive nightmare. We always receive a warm welcome when we go there, and we enjoy the music and the teaching. The service on Sunday was all-age worship led by the children's worker, Jo Keil. It was based around Psalm 139, and its theme was God knows me completely. It was moving and engaging. What moved me most, I think, was the act of confession with which it ended. It seemed to me so comprehensible and related to real life. Here's my adaptation of it: "God, examine me and know my heart. Test me and know my thoughts. See if there is any bad thing in me and lead me in the way everlasting" (verses 23,24) O Lord, you notice everything I do and everywhere I go!... Where can I go to escape from your Spirit?... Nothing about me is hidden from you. Hands out Father God, this week you have seen all that I have done, everything I have said to others and done, both good and not so good. Father God, this week you have seen everywhere I have gone, all I have watched and read; you have heard everything I have listened to.  Hands across chest Nothing is hidden from you – and this need not alarm me because you are a good and loving God. But I ask for your forgiveness now for the things I have said and done, and for what I have not said and done, the places I have been, the things I have watched or read, which have hurt and displeased you. Thank you that you forgive me because Jesus died for me, and thank you that you go on loving me, forever! Amen.

Grace abounds

Just back from a week at the New Wine church conference (where the idea for this blog came from two years ago) and I thought I'd better report something. I'm sorry not to be able to report that this year I was on my feet dancing (see Could there be anything better than this?)..., but there were other things.

The worship music, as is the way today, was very high octane. I think the first bass drum beats scared the life out of the two guide dogs I could see! Certainly after that they left for the songs and returned to their owners for the talks! In fact most of the worship was led by Martin Smith, formerly lead singer of the popular group Delirious. He was very good at helping us to worship. I liked a new song from Australia called Oceans.

"You call me out upon the waters,
The great unknown where feet may fail
And there I find You in the mystery.
In oceans deep
My faith will stand.

And I will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves.
When oceans rise
My soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mine.

Your grace abounds in deepest waters.
Your sovereign hand
Will be my guide
Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me.
You've never failed and You won't start now.

So I will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves....

Spirit, lead me where my trust is without borders.
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me.
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Saviour." 


Here it is sung in a Florida church: "Oceans" worship song. 

The line which struck me was "Your grace abounds in deepest waters". You'll understand why it appealed to me. It reminds me of St Paul rejoicing in his weakness because God's strength was made perfect in it. 

In her blog today, Bo Stern wrote something even more gritty. (She's the pastor whose husband has aggressive ALS/MND.) 

 "I wish I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard this cliche which is well-meaning, but not very good theology:  God will never give you more than you can handle.  I suspect it’s a mashup of I Corinthians 10:13 (which is talking about temptation and sin) and too much time in the Hallmark store.

Regardless of its origins, it drives me a little crazy because it implies there’s a supernatural safety valve and don’t you worry, because when this battle gets really tough, He’ll fix it.

But for me, it is rough and He hasn’t.  Fixed it, that is.  He’s been with us in it.  He’s gone before us.  He comforts us on the days when strength and hope are so far in the rear view that I’m sure they’re gone for good.  He has been with us in this fight and we’re so thankful but make no mistake: it’s is well beyond our ability.  Beyond, beyond.  Super beyond.

And that’s okay, because He excels at being God when I cannot and He has a pretty impressive track record.  Nearly every Bible hero I admire faced a situation far outside their weight class.  Come to think of it, so have the people I admire most in my world.  Something beautiful happens in us when we are outnumbered and in over our heads, so let’s not wish those moments away or pump platitudes at people who are suffering because we aren’t sure what else to say; let’s just be thankful that He will be in the fights that are most definitely more than we can handle.  Let’s, in fact, rejoicewhen we are given opportunities to live, love, battle and forgive in ways that far exceed our own abilities.

Jesus said, “In this world, you will have trouble…”  (and I’m pretty sure He’s talking about the Big Stuff — the Red Sea-meets-Goliath-meets-fiery-furnace type of trouble) but cheer up!   He has – ultimately and eternally – overcome the world.  Weeping may last for this moment, but heaven will have the last laugh.

Count on it."  Bo Stern's myth buster No 2.

There's lots more I could recount from the week, but I had better process it and let it sink in.

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.

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).

Blessings

I owe a lot to my friends Miles and Sarah, who now live in posh London. They used to live in Stanford in the Vale where I was vicar. Sarah has a lovely voice and used to lead worship for us. Every now and then she makes a comment on Facebook about a singer whom she's discovered. When I've found them on YouTube, she invariably proves a great talent spotter. One was Alison Krauss. Yesterday she posted, "Just discovered the amazingly beautiful voice and lyrics of Laura Story - loving Blessings." So I followed it up, and of course she's right! Blessings on YouTube

On her website, I found this account by Laura Story, which I reckoned was very helpful and rather good theology.

"The album that I did three to four years ago happened right after my husband went through surgery for a brain tumor. So a lot of the ideas that I was writing about then were just very fresh, about how do we worship in the midst of trials. So fast forwarding a few years later, a lot of things have changed. A lot of things have gotten better with his health, and a lot of things have not. We pray for God to bless us, but what does it look like when I spend four or so years praying for healing for my husband that never comes? I feel like we’ve kind of gotten to a place of having to make a choice. Are we going to judge God based on our circumstances that we don’t understand, or are we going to choose to judge our circumstances based on what we know to be true about God? Not that I choose the right thing every day, but I’m learning that every morning when I wake up to choose to trust God.

"And that’s what 'Blessings' is about. It’s just considering that maybe the blessing is actually found in the absence of the thing that I’m praying for. No one wants a brain tumor, and no one wants a severed marriage and these things that we pray that God will reconcile. But even though this situation is definitely nothing that we ever would have asked for or prayed for, there has been a depth of intimacy with the Lord that I’m not sure I would have known apart from such a hard road that we’ve walked. And in the end, if I’ve learned to cling to that old rugged cross all the more, I truly can say that I’m a blessed person."

http://laurastorymusic.com/2011/09/story-behind-the-song-“blessings”/

Isn't that a paradoxical insight: "maybe the blessing is actually found in the absence of the thing that I’m praying for"? I wonder what Laura means by learning "to cling to that old rugged cross". (It was a favourite funeral hymn among Stanford villagers, which always fascinated me...!) I suspect it's to do with learning to trust the love of the crucified God in the teeth of everything.