“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.

Prayer for today

I have read this short prayer on Facebook this morning. I hope you may like it.

May I live this day

Compassionate of heart,

Gentle in word,

Gracious in awareness,

Courageous in thought,

Generous in love.

(John O’Donohue)

New Year Reflections

One of the pleasures of blogging - usually, when trolls aren't in the vicinity - is receiving comments which inspire me or provoke me. I received one on my Dancing Donkey blog last week, which included this reflection. It's a sort of Beatitudes, which personally I'd like set the tone for my 2014.

REFLECTION 
Happy are those who are poor in spirit
whose heart freely gives and receives,
who say with Mary: “Be it done unto me.”
Theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Happy are those who are gentle,
whose concern brings comfort,
whose touch, healing,
whose manner says: “The Lord is with you!”
They will inherit the earth.

Happy are those who mourn with the mourning,
who reach out to the suffering, the oppressed,
who stand with Mary near the cross of her Lord;
in His cross they will be comforted.

Happy are those who thirst for what is right,
who use mind and heart for the Kingdom,
though persecuted in the cause of what is just,
with living waters they will be filled.
Theirs is the Kingdom of God.

Happy are the merciful, the peacemaker,
who forgive and accept the other,
who heal the wounded, reconcile the broken,
feeling oneness with sinful humanity.
Mercy will be shown to them.

Happy are those, pure in heart, transparent,
who pray, “Your name is oil poured out…
in your footsteps, draw me. Let us run...
You are my joy and my gladness!"
Yes, they will see God.





I'm also indebted to Vicky Beeching for pointing this out. I believe it's from the "Think before you tweet" campaign, but could equally apply to all social media. 

My mother used to tell us as children before we spoke to apply the Three Rule test: 
Is it true?
Is it necessary?
Is it kind? Sadly I did not always pass the test.

Another ideal to aspire to this year!

Human flesh and a Happy New Year

My former college, Wycliffe Hall, kindly sent out an Advent devotional this year. On Christmas Day, reflecting on the Gospel reading from John chapter 1, the principal wrote this about "the Word became flesh". I liked it, and tried to remember it through the day. 

“If God could be God when one cell small in the womb of Mary, then we can be human when we are constrained. When we feel cramped. When we feel trapped. When we feel that life is not giving us the scope to be ourselves. Limited circumstances did not stop God from being God, and limited circumstances will not stop us from being human, or from being ourselves – or (Luke 1:44) from giving joy to others” (Dr Mike Lloyd).

I hope you like it too. Enjoy a fully human New Year - whatever your circumstances!

Hope at Christmas

When I was growing up in Bristol, one of the old buildings which always appealed to me was the Chapel of the Three Kings of Cologne, part of the Foster's Almshouses, at the top of Christmas Steps (full of exciting Dickensian shops!). It was built in 1504, by John Foster, a Bristol merchant, who, it's thought, had seen the Chapel of the Three Kings in Cologne Cathedral, named after the magi who came to visit the baby Jesus after the nativity - whose bones were transferred there in the 12th century. 

On my other blog, I wrote about being interviewed about the end of life by Channel 5, and received this comment from "Leafyschroder", which I liked and thought I'd repeat here.

"Coming towards the celebration of the coming into the world of Life itself, I find your article, and indeed all that is being said about this subject profoundly moving.
"It's difficult to comprehend just how difficult life must be for some and one wishes that they could be enveloped by Love and deeply feel how valuable their life is. I have been listening to this beautiful song about hope: Cologne Cathedral and the Jewish song, 'Inscription of Hope'". 

Suzette, from whose blog this comes, wrote this about the song:

"The basement (of the cathedral) also became the hiding place for Jewish families hiding out from Hitler. At the end of the war, fragments of a poem, believed to have been written by a Jewish child, were scrawled on the wall. Those words from the poem were taken and put to music, the melody coming from an old Russian folk tune, and was turned into the choral arrangement, 'Inscription of Hope.' The music and choral arrangement were done by composer Z. Randall Stroope. Below are the lyrics of the first stanza of the song, taken from the words inscribed on the wall of the Cologne Cathedral:
Inscription of Hope
I believe in the sun
even when it is not shining
and I believe in love
even when there's no one there,
and I believe in God
even when he's silent.
I believe through any trial
there is always a way."

There's a poignancy reading this again at the time when we recall another Jewish child being hunted down by an oppressive régime. Whatever your circumstances this Christmas, I wish you a hope-filled season and the knowledge within you that Love came down at Christmas. Emmanuel - God is with us

Life and death

Today we're in the season of Advent - the period of waiting for the coming of the King, in two senses: the coming of Jesus in such extraordinary circumstances as a crying baby, I believe, to a teenage mum, and his coming again "in great glory to judge both the living and the dead". It's a time full of anticipation and awe.

This afternoon, after a visit to my wonderful dentist and a lunch with my distinguished oldest brother and his wife at The Bull in Fairford (good meal!), we came back to welcome the Holy Family - the pregnant Mary and Joseph, plus donkey - who are doing the rounds of houses in the parish. John, our vicar, brought them round and prayed with us. They'll stay with us until tomorrow when they'll move on until coming to rest finally in the church on Christmas Eve at the crib service.

It's a great way to focus one's thoughts on what is the reason for the season. Tonight Jane's out at a home group, and hopefully I will be disciplined enough to take time out from my usual lapsing in front of the TV for reflection and gratitude. On Sunday, John preached an Advent sermon on preparing for Jesus' coming, which, he said, we could do by watching carefully and serving faithfully. I'm going to try to watch and wait tonight.

This afternoon I also came back to read the news that a good friend (whom I've never met), Alison Davis, died this morning. She is a hero of faith. She was born with spina bifida in 1955. "She later developed conditions including osteoporosis, arthritis and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. Coping with these permanently disabling and painful conditions dominated but did not define her life. Indeed, they led her to champion the rights of the vulnerable, the disabled and the unborn, first as an atheist and then as a Catholic." You can read her story here: http://www.catholicherald.co.uk/features/2013/12/03/obituary-alison-davis/. "Finally, on Easter Sunday, 31 March 1991, she was received into the Church.  Although Alison knew she had 'come home', being a Catholic brought its own difficulties. She discovered some churches couldn’t accommodate wheelchair users and she sometimes experienced an acute sense of rejection. She learnt that her Faith would not remove the sorrows of life but that it does provide the grace and strength necessary to live with them. A visit to Calcutta over Christmas in 1991, and witnessing the love a pavement-dwelling family had for their tiny baby, brought home to her the infinite value of each human being created by God." 

I came into contact with her through our shared belief in the sanctity of life. I think she contacted me after reading My Donkeybody. It was only over the years that I realised what a remarkable lady she was. She is a real example of serving faithfully, and I am really grateful to have known her. In her last email to me she talked about being "content with life as God has given it, which I think is the secret to a really fulfilled life". She lived a fulfilled life in spite of her limitations, beside which mine are tiny. I believe that Paul's expectation is true for Alison: "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that Day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing" (2 Timothy 4.7,8). I hope I'll meet her then.

Pour forth, we beseech Thee, O Lord, Thy grace into our hearts, that we to whom the Incarnation of Christ Thy Son was made known by the message of an angel, may by His Passion and Cross be brought to the glory of His Resurrection. Through the same Christ Our Lord. Amen.