Spiritual duty or delight?

It's hard to be spiritual when one is aware of a long list of tasks waiting to be tackled. Taking time out for leisure is perfectly acceptable and easy to do - I can switch into 'leisure' mode at the drop of a hat. Taking time out for God is far more important but less easy. So far this week I am managing to keep to my resolution of '10 minutes on my knees', but these times have been a duty rather than a delight. Deep down, I'd like to be the sort of person who takes so much pleasure in my relationship with Jesus that I become more eager to pray than to potter on the computer. Right at this moment I'm doing both... Lord, in everything I do today be my companion. May your presence enrich my every moment.

Family Time

Although I have never numbered 'workaholism' among my faults I have begun to notice that I don't always spend a lot of time with my family. So this evening my guilt has been somewhat assuaged. I have been out with H as she learns how to operate a car without stalling it. (She passed her test four years ago but has hardly driven since.) I have sat with M on my knee as she worked through problems of tiles sliding down roofs and hitting the ground. I have watched University Challenge with S and am about to plan our walking route for tomorrow. These jobs have effectively taken the whole evening, but that's what family time surely means - time with the family.

My success as a father and husband tonight mitigates the other sense of guilt for having wasted two hours this afternoon finishing a book and pottering on the internet.

Calm down, you Baptists!

Each year in January we have a pulpit exchange amongst our local churches in which it is not the pulpits themselves but their occupants who travel to other churches to preach. So I found myself in one of the nearby Baptist Churches for a change. I was given the passage Matthew 12:15-21 and found myself immediately drawn to the verse "a smouldering wick he will not snuff out." This led to thoughts about the gentler side of Jesus - he withdrew from danger (the Pharisees planned to kill him) and warned those he healed to say nothing. In this passage he shows caution, discretion and tenderness.

As the worship progressed I started to worry. Here was a church full of praise for the power and glory of God, eager to hear stories of healing and answered prayer, vibrantly alive and enthusiastic in their discipleship. And I was planning to tell them to be sensitive to others, to withdraw from conflict, to downplay the miraculous, to listen rather than speak, to be gentle rather than powerful, to consider shutting up, backing off and leaving well alone. If I had another sermon up my sleeve I would have been very tempted to go with it, but I hadn't. So after an hour of worship it was my turn. I couldn't have had a warmer welcome. I began my allotted 25 minutes of preaching the word (it turned out to be nearer 30 even though I tried to abbreviate the last section and felt that I rather stumbled towards a conclusion instead of ending with a bang) and watched nervously as one person clutched his head in his hands (despairing of my heresy?). Another was busy taking notes on his palm pilot which made me wonder whether my words were really worth recording. I finished. I sat down.

After the service I was overwhelmed by the number of people who thanked me for the appropriateness of my message. "Thank you for addressing my personal needs" was a typical comment. Even the Baptist minister (a mature Christian for whom I have great respect - he had done his preaching exchange last night at the Catholic church) seemed moved by the message. As I was leaving he confided in me certain issues he was dealing with and how God had used my sermon to calm him down and change his attitude. He went smoothly from telling me this to praying. So we stood together for a few moments outside the church door, looking out across the community and we prayed for one another.

That wave of the Spirit is still buoying up my life it seems. And so far I'm managing to stay on my surfboard!

New Week's Resolution #5

Result of NWR#1 (rising early): 6
Result of NWR#2 (fruit and veg): 7
Result of NWR#3 (backlog before leisure): 7
Result of NWR#4 (no anecdotes): 30%
It is not easy to measure how well I succeeded in not telling a single story or anecdote or embarking on a long explanation. Sometimes I did so without even noticing. Sometimes I realised I was about to do so and held my tongue. Sometimes I realised I was about to do so but couldn't control myself and blurted out my story anyway. On the whole I did avoid anything too lengthy and never felt I was wittering on when people weren't interested. But I estimate only about a 30% success rate in keeping to the letter of my resolution. This is one I'm not going to pursue further.

(I've just discovered there's no hash symbol on a MacBook keyboard. I've had to resort to cut and paste for the title bar as well as the results list.)

During the coming week I will spend at least 10 minutes each day on my knees (literally or it doesn't count) in prayer. And 10 minutes of wandering thoughts doesn't count either!

Surfing on the wave of the Spirit

An excellent couple of sessions at the Street Pastors training day in Brixton. Not so much in terms of what I learned about being a Street Pastor (though I did learn useful things in that area), but more in terms of the impact on my own spiritual journey. Just one example: as we sang the chorus "How great is our God" over and over I gazed around the room at the variety of people. Some were carried away in an ecstasy of worship with raised hands and beatific expressions. Some were singing half-heartedly and looking pretty unimpressed. And a whole range in between. But I thought to myself "God must be great to bring all these different people together to serve him!" and (yes, I know this is going to sound really cheesy) my heart was suddenly full of love for all my fellow Christians gathered in that place.

Things said during the training and conversations on the train afterwards made me realise that the Spirit is moving in my life and in the situations around me. I have committed myself to preaching in a week's time on the life and future of our church. I have begun to get some idea of what I want to say. It feels like a key moment coming up and I've only seven days to be ready for it. I have big doubts as to my ability to remain standing as I surf this wave of the Spirit, but I've got to give it a go.

The game is afoot! Time for action

Life is moving on apace and I’m not sure how well I am able to keep up. On Wednesday night we had an excellent Worship Committee in which we agreed some radical changes such as the children coming in at the end of the service rather than the beginning, the use of CDs (rather than organ, piano or guitar) to accompany some songs, and the first Sunday evening of the month being a service of prayer, music and contemplation in which we pray together for the life of the church. I left with a long list of things to do.

Last night we had an excellent Street Pastors training evening in which we talked about the place of prophecy in our work. Not the dramatic kind where we pin people down and proclaim, “The Lord says to you...”, but the simple nonthreatening kind where we pray for and expect to be able to say the right things and address the right questions, and where we are sensitive to words or images that the Spirit may nudge into our minds as we talk to people.

The subject that had kept nudging its way into my mind this last week has been setting up and getting used to my new MacBook. (So far, some of it is a joy to work with. Other bits are unfamiliar, and some bits just don’t work like they should. The jury is still out on whether the move away from Windows is a good thing.) I have tried to be disciplined in how much time I devote to this, but at the moment it’s hard mental work to bring my thoughts to bear on the really important stuff of life. Perhaps this morning’s power cut and the fact that our phone isn’t working is a gentle reminder not to depend too much on technology.

So, good things are happening, but my thoughts are wandering where they shouldn’t and my time is (or ought to be) committed to a wide range of backlog tasks, some of which are very important and increasingly urgent. I think the most important thing for me to do first of all is ‘sharpen the axe’. In other words, spend time in preparation. Help me, Lord, to devote the next hour at least, without distraction (either from without or from within - the latter being the more likely and the more disruptive) to achieving a firm grasp of what I need to do and when.

• Outcome: It took well over two hours and even then I don’t have everything as neatly sorted as I’d like, but at least I know what I ought to be spending my time on over the coming few days. Thanks, Lord.
  

The problem with Methodism?

What is wrong with Methodist churches? Other local churches are growing. Why aren't we? These very good questions were posed by K as we stood shivering in the cold after a meeting of church and circuit treasurers. (Which, by the way, had the potential to be a very tense and difficult meeting but happily was able to reach a fairly amicable decision over next year's budget.)

Is it something about the minister's style of leadership? Or about the age profile of the congregation? Or about the quality of worship? Or about taking a clear stand on moral issues? We didn't come up with any answers, but it set me thinking about how wary I am about giving a strong opinion when I think others may not agree. I ought to have realised by now that there are plenty of things I say which people don't agree with, but it doesn't mean they dislike me, and it doesn't stop them going to church. Perhaps I shouldn't be afraid to speak my mind more often.

From the ashes of disaster...

... grow the roses of success.

I was supposed to be running the first session in a Christian nurture course this evening. But only one person turned up. Fifty minutes late at that! It is my own fault that I have only publicised the evening in broad announcements and not in face-to-face invitations. Still, the evening was not wasted. The two of us decided to re-initiate the defunct song workshop to learn new music for singing in worship.

Whilst waiting for someone to arrive I decided to try installing an application on my new MacBook which would allow me to run Windows XP for those programs I just can't live without. This proved a lot more difficult than I had hoped and for a while looked to be impossible. However I am now making (very) slow progress. The copying of windows installation folders has increased from 31% to 35% whilst I have written this post, and if all goes well I might even have a Windows operating system up and running before midnight.

There have been moments of despondency this evening, but all is not yet lost. The night time will not last for ever. Sooner or later light will dawn.

• Update: The installation was so slow (55% by midnight) that I gave up and tried a new approach later. It is now 8 days later and I am updating my blog by running windows from within Mac. Hurrah.

And doing it!

Most of yesterday was spent at Brixton catching up with two missed sessions of my Street Pastor training. On such occasions I would normally take an MP3 player and a book of cryptic crosswords to keep me entertained on the journey and during the lunch break. Yesterday I made the deliberate choice not to do so. Sitting on the train or walking along the street would be perfect opportunities for preparing services, magazine editorials etc (if alone) or building up relationships (if with a colleague).

One key point in this morning's parade service is that we need to trust Jesus with our lives - and that means not just listening to what he says, but doing it. I realised (as I paced the streets of Brixton during my lunch hour) that I am much bigger on listening than doing. I know the principles of Christian living, but I'm not so hot on running my life by them. The decision to leave behind my 'leisure props', and not to spend any time yesterday on my new toy (a one-day old MacBook) was a good step in the right direction. This morning I feel much more psyched up to leading a parade service than I did a few days ago.

New Week's Resolution #4

Result of NWR#1 (rising early): 7
Result of NWR#2 (fruit and veg): 7
Result of NWR#3 (backlog before leisure): 7
Even with 30 to 60 minutes per day trying to clear my desk, intray and email I still seem to have as much of a backlog as ever. But at least I don't feel guilty for wasting so much time on trivia.

My resolution for the coming week only (I don't think I'll be able to keep it up any longer) comes out of an earlier post (see here). I will not tell people a single joke, relate a single anecdote or embark on a single detailed explanation for seven consecutive days. (Not counting prepared material like sermons or nurture courses.) My conversations will therefore have to be focused more on the other person or on uplifting, interesting and enlightening topics.

Making the most of the gaps

I have a busy few days coming up, most of it enjoyable and some of it not work-related (potentially long pastoral visit; appointment at Apple store to view and probably buy MacBook; "I am Legend" at cinema; Street Pastor training day; Sainsbury's trip; parade service; drama rehearsal; attend Churches Together service; meeting with colleague; Men's Luncheon Club; first session of Emmaus course - which takes us as far as Monday evening.) I need to be efficient in the way I use the gaps to prepare for these events and for other urgent and essential admin. I'm actually looking forward to it. My hopes are up, my energy levels good, my mind alert. I have a proper day off on Tuesday, but for the next four days I need to be very wary about frittering away my time.

Undisciplined thoughts

What am I spending my time and energy on? At our ministers lunch fellowship on Tuesday, the pastor of the town church shared with us how they were planting a new congregation in a local school. I shared (at greater length, wittering on as usual) how we are joining with another local circuit. Afterwards it occurred to me to compare the two and realise that whilst T is putting his energy into outreach I am putting my energy into organisation.

Another example: Here are two particular issues (amongst many others) in my life. One is my decision that I need to replace my laptop and my investigation into the MacBook as a serious alternative. Another is the parade service this coming Sunday. One is about choosing the right tools for the job. The other is about presenting the good news of Jesus to a few hundred people including many children. Guess which I am spending all my time thinking about?

Lord, help me to get the different elements of my life in perspective. Help me focus on those things which matter in the bigger context of your kingdom. Help me to enjoy the things of lesser importance, but not to give them too large a space in my life. Help me discipline my thoughts and spent time reflecting on what is important rather than what is enjoyable.

Wittering on

I witter on far too often and for far too long. Two examples:

• Tuesday evening, even after I had stood up and put my coat on to leave, I wittered on to a young couple about the good bits of Extras (comedy programme with Ricky Gervais) for a further five or ten minutes, despite the fact that they clearly weren't all that interested.
• Wednesday morning, during the initial meeting about the co-consultancy process I couldn't help telling two or three anecdotes which were of minimal interest to anyone else. The irony is that the process we were discussing included the clear discipline of 'no anecdotes'. OK, we were not exactly 'doing' co-consultancy, just talking about it, but even so I knew before I started that my stories would not excite or impress anyone.

So why do I do it? Is it lack of discipline? I know that the only person to benefit from my wittering is myself - in the sense that all these thoughts are going round in my head and it gives a sense of relief to get them out in the open. Is it lack of care? Tough luck if my listeners are not bothered - I'm going to tell them this whether they want to hear it or not.

Perhaps my next week's resolution could be not to tell a single joke, story or anecdote for seven consecutive days. It would be a huge challenge.

WYFINAWYG (What you fear is not always what you get)

What I expected last night's 'Sunday School' meeting (we don't call it that anymore of course, but I'm trying to preserve a modicum of anonymity in this blog) to be like: major tension; overworked leader feeling unsupported; frustrated volunteers; personality clashes; one key volunteer already resigned and a few others not far behind; total meltdown of children's ministry on Sunday.

What last night's meeting was actually like: very minor tension; honest expression of people's situation; calm discussion; the person I thought had already resigned was willing to continue although with shared responsibility; a fairer distribution of workload; an analysis of why numbers are low; a radical change suggested (the children coming in briefly at the end of the service rather than for the first 15-20 minutes at the start) - in fact, all in all a very positive meeting.

So thank you, Lord, for answered prayers. I expected a difficult meeting with a disastrous outcome. I prayed for a calm meeting with a hopeful outcome. I attended a lively meeting with a visionary outcome.

Do be do be do.

I'm getting up early these days but this has not led to a great increase in spiritual reflection. Two reasons for this are:

1. I don't really have a system for prayer and Bible study, so my thoughts are haphazard and my reading of the Bible confined largely to whatever passage(s) I am supposed to be preaching on next Sunday.
2. I am more of a doer than a beer. My mind is full of all the forthcoming activities (whether trivial or important, dreaded or looked forward to, tackled or ignored) and just switching off to be with God doesn't come easy. In fact twice yesterday I had to be metaphorically dragged from my study (in one case from work in the other from idle pursuits) in order to be with my family.

And this morning is no different. I have run out of time simply to be. I've now got to get on and do.

God likes me.

Twice today I have preached that God welcomes us into his family as co-heirs with Christ, loves us so passionately that he longs for intimate moments in our company, and even takes pleasure in who we are. (All this extrapolated from the words God spoke at Jesus's baptism.) I ended the sermon by getting the congregation to repeat after me "I am God's son/daughter. I am his beloved. With me he is well pleased."

Yet I still can't bring myself to believe it in my heart of hearts. It was only as I spoke the words aloud to myself whilst driving home that I realised what a difficult thing it is to believe. Does God really like me? I know he loves me, but does he like me? All the evidence from Scripture is that he does. He knows me better than I know myself. He knows all my weaknesses and my foibles, plus all those major sins that I don't even recognise. And he still likes me. Wow.

New Week's Resolution #3

Result of NWR#1 (rising early): 7
Result of NWR#2 (fruit and veg): 7
Both of these are maximum scores. I had to put in some effort to eat my five portions of fruit and vegetables each day. The main cooked meal never had more than one portion, so I had to supplement it with two portions of fruit (apples, grapes or dates) plus my breakfast dried fruit and juice. Eating all this healthy food didn't stop me enjoying copious amounts of chocolate too.

Next week my resolution is that I will not indulge in any trivial pursuit on the computer (such as playing Slitherlink or Light Up; reading Order of the Stick; using Stumble to browse random pages) until I have spent at least 30 minutes working on my backlog of post and email. I've not yet decided whether to count a day when I do neither of these things as a success (because it follows the letter of the law) or a failure (because the backlog is not reduced). Hopefully I will not have such a day.

Life as choice rather than habit

Alicia, a blind girl, feels Ben's craggy face.

Alicia: (sympathetically) So sad.
Ben doesn't react but continues with hangdog expression.
Alicia: (reassuringly) Hey. Being different isn't always a bad thing.
Ben: Trust me. This ain't one of them times.
Alicia looks disappointed.
Alicia: Not if you don't want it to be.


This is just one of many recent comments I have heard or read which suggest that life (in this case our attitude regarding our self-image) is more about what we choose rather than what happens to us. This is both true and simplistic. Choosing to change our attitudes, our habits and our lifestyles is within our power, but it is not easy and not a one-off decision. We are creatures of unconscious habit. A good thing too - you couldn't possibly get through the day if every action had to be carefully considered and decided upon. We rely extensively on automatic behaviour when it comes to simple actions like walking or brushing our teeth, or more complex activities like driving or writing sermons. Having such a propensity for unconscious action makes changing our habits difficult. Often we don't even recognise that they ought to be changed.

This is where the Spirit can help. He guides, provokes and prompts us when it is time to change. He strengthens our will-power to make the right choices.

One of my ingrained habits is that when faced with a fairly clear diary (as today for example), I tend to potter about doing little bits here and there rather than tackle the major jobs. And it's not uncommon (as with yesterday late afternoon for example) for this pottering to have far more to do with idle personal amusement than Christian ministry. So my conscious choice for today is: Get on with the three big tasks, namely preparing a thorough agenda for Sunday afternoon's joint circuit staff and stewards meeting; preparing two services for Sunday; considering and clarifying my ideas about the future of the Mission committee ready to present to them tonight. The shorter tasks can wait until these three are finished.

Committees can be a blessing in disguise

Last night's pastoral meeting didn't go quite as I'd planned. I had identified over 40 people who are officially church members but who for a variety of reasons (some because they have moved away but never settled in another church) do not attend or even take an interest. I wanted to write to them all saying (as tactfully as I could) that unless they could persuade me to retain their membership it was high time to remove them from our list - bearing in mind that this would not prevent them receiving the church magazine if they wanted or being made welcome if they ever turned up at church.

The meeting agreed that it was ridiculous to keep all these people on our membership roll, but didn't like the idea of a letter. The feeling was that they each needed a visit from the minister. Where they lived at a distance I should instead contact the local Methodist minister and transfer their membership. I have to admit my heart sank at the prospect of putting in all this effort, especially when I have low expectations of any positive results. But on reflection, the meeting was quite right. I shouldn't attempt to dismiss any of these lapsed members too lightly.

And what was God saying to me through this? I think he was reminding me that I can't think and plan my ministry in splendid isolation. I need other people. I need different perspectives. I need encouragement and challenge from fellow Christians. I am not a solo performer, but part of a living vibrant body of believers.

I think there's light at the end of the tunnel

As I speculated, I did reach fifth heaven yesterday. The holiday was booked without undue difficulty. I had a helpful conversation in an Apple shop about the possibilities of replacing my PC laptop with a MacBook. The postman delivered two external hard drives (one of them is bound to crash sooner or later but if I keep my backup storage on both, then all will not be lost) and these seem to plug and play very easily. Even the fact that a spring in my study chair broke (making it less comfortable but still functional) did not dent my cheeriness.

By the by, we booked our holiday in a converted mill by the river Stour just outside Blandford Forum in Dorset. A news item on the radio this morning said that since licensing hours were extended only a small proportion of pubs have been granted a 24-hour licence, and only two in the entire country actually remain open for 24 hours a day - both of them in Blandford Forum! I wonder if we will be disturbed by the drinkers of Dorset converging on us at all hours of day or night.

But more importantly: One of my emails yesterday contained the comment that some feel the church has lost its way and is looking to me for strong leadership. I was supposed to write a paper for tomorrow's Church Strategy Group to address such an issue, but have not yet done so and so have postponed the meeting. The good news is that I am starting to get an inkling of where we might go as a church. Something about making disciples and how that might revitalise our particular congregation. I can preach on it and submit a paper to the congregation at the same time. The thoughts are not yet fully formed, but I've made a start. Better still, it does feel like the prompting of the Spirit rather than my own desperate ideas.

It's the little things that bring happiness

It's amazing how trivial things can radically affect one's mood. This morning life seemed a little grey and dreary. The walk in the woods did lead to a geocache, but the mud and the constant drizzle took the edge off the pleasure. But by noon three simple facts have cheered me up. One is that the ministers fellowship is not happening tomorrow but next week. Given that I have a communion service, a funeral and a pastoral visitors meeting (all needing preparation), one less meeting is a real treat. The second bit of cheering news is that we have managed to get H's camcorder connected properly to the computer - something we failed to do last night despite considerable time and effort. Thirdly, I have won a CD on ebay (the bidding ended last night but I forgot to check until just now) and at a bargain price too!

So the day looks brighter. The rain has stopped. I am taking H to see "St Trinians" this afternoon. My sandwiches and lunch are beckoning. I don't have to worry about work for the rest of the day. (It's my day off if anyone is wondering.) If by bedtime I can find the right place to book for a summer holiday then I will be in fifth heaven. (It would be exceptional for my emotional state to reach any higher.)

Is it wrong to feel happy over such basically unimportant things? What about the state of the world - not to mention the church and my own contribution to it? What about the poverty of my spiritual life? Perhaps one of God's greatest blessings is the ability to set aside all the major difficulties of life for a while and enjoy the simple pleasures.

Discovering the truth through experimentation

I've just finished "MetaMaths" by Gregory Chaitin. When I say 'finished' I mean I've read the main body of the book. I didn't feel inspired to continue into the lengthy appendices. It's not the best maths book I've read. The style is idiosyncratic and the subject matter could be summed up as "Godel and Turing had some good ideas, but here, in chatty style with lots of words in bold print for emphasis, is a flavour of my own ground-breaking contribution."

However, Chaitin does put forward some interesting mathematical and philosophical concepts. One is that maths is less logical and more intuitive than most people think. People like Godel and Turing have shown that however carefully you construct your mathematical system, there will always be true statements that cannot be proved and solutions that cannot be computed. Chaitin says that mathematics, like physics, relies on experimentation rather than pure logic to uncover the truth.

This has settled my mind somewhat in regard to the issues raised by Dawkins (see various posts early on in this blog). The truth about God is not going to be found only by sitting down and thinking about it, but by experimenting with it. When I behave as if God exists and loves me, what happens? Does my life make sense? Does the Christian faith begin to ring true when it is put into practice? Let's see, shall we...

Forward is easier than reverse

We sang a hymn tonight in which the third line of music was similar to another hymn. I racked my brains for ages trying to work out which other hymn it reminded me of. I could hear the words that went with the familiar third line - "Look down with sad and wondering eyes" - and I could complete the verse by singing the fourth line - "To see the approaching sacrifice." - but there was no way I could work backwards. The earlier words and the earlier tune remained stubbornly out of my grasp until one of the church stewards provided the answer: "Ride on, ride on in majesty". The verse I was remembering is the one which continues "The winged squadrons of the sky..."

And the moral? There are many other progressive things which are far easier to follow in one direction than another. Hymns, songs and poetry are prime examples. Given the second line the mind can naturally supply the third, fourth and beyond, but just try thinking your way back to the first line and it's either hard work or nigh on impossible. So I reckon God is telling me that the easiest way from here is forward. Start where I am and get going. Don't try working my way backwards to some earlier state. This is who I am. This is what I know. These are the issues in my life. These are the skills I have developed. This is the situation I am facing. So get on and deal with it. It will be far easier than trying to turn the clock back.

New Week's Resolution #2

Result of NWR#1 (rising early): 5 (out of 7) but not because of poor willpower - I simply didn't wake up early on New Year's Eve and after a late party I decided to sleep in on New Year's Day.

This week my resolution is to eat five portions of fruit or vegetable each day. Apparently I can count my morning fruit juice as one. I normally sprinkle a little chopped dried fruit on my breakfast muesli, and I can easily increase the amount to a full portion. Then all I need to do is have one piece of fresh fruit during the day and ensure I get at least two veg with my meat.

Drab-tinted spectacles?

Some weeks ago I received a letter about the parlous state of worship in churches today. The writer clearly felt passionately about it and was writing to every minister she could in order to disseminate her views - relying on the old techniques of photocopying and the Royal Mail rather than publishing on the internet. Her point was that worship may be informative, interesting and of a high standard, but it is not honouring God. It doesn't drive us to our knees in penitence. It doesn't set before us the saving power of the cross. It doesn't centre on the awesome nature and love of God. Her conclusion was that practically every service of worship across Britain causes God to shake his head in disappointment. She said she had only once in her life attended a service that could count as 'true' worship. She didn't say where and when this remarkable event took place.

I filed this letter in my recycled paper box thinking, "it can't be as bad as that!" But today's breakfast reading painted a similar picture of the church regarding discipleship, pointing out that we have almost entirely forgotten the great command of Jesus - not to convert people, but to make disciples. Who, in today's church, seriously devotes every waking moment to working out how to do things in the way Jesus would do them? (See the two previous posts.) It left me feeling mildly depressed. The world is in a mess. The church ought to be a beacon of light but isn't. The state of my own discipleship is nothing to write home about. What a gloomy prospect.

Or am I seeing things through whatever the opposite of rose-tinted spectacles is? Does God really look at the state of the British church and throw up his hands in horror?

How did Jesus cope? The world was just as awful a place in his day, and the state of religion was as bad, if not worse. Did Jesus despair? No - he enjoyed life to the full. He had a reputation as a glutton and a winebibber. (A lovely word - a shame it's fallen out of fashion.) How could he go to parties if things were so bad? The way he coped with the mess was to do something about it. He knew he was surrounded by pain, problems and sinfulness, but he didn't wallow in despair. He talked to God about it. He helped the people he came across. He taught and demonstrated the right way to live. Ultimately he gave up his life to redeem the world from its awfulness.

So then - nil desperandum! "Not all is dark. Take courage, Lord of the Mark; for better help you will not find." (As Gandalf said to Theoden.) When I went into the kitchen this morning to find it in a mess, did I despair? No - I set to work washing up. I admit the church and my life (among other things) are way off being perfect, but there's nothing wrong with them that can't be put right with prayer, time and effort.

Searching greatly increases the chance of finding

The theme of my epiphany sermon and my breakfast reading today had a great deal in common. Was this mere serendipity or was God telling me that my thoughts so far on the sermon were along the right lines? In either case the lesson is one I need to apply to myself not just teach others. This is it:

If you want an epiphany you have to go looking for it. Unlike the shepherds, who were literally minding their own business when a moment of glorious revelation overwhelmed them, the wise men had to work out the clues for themselves, go on a journey, arrive at the wrong destination, take advice, put their trust in the wrong person (but realise it before too late), recognise a familiar sign and eventually reach the right place.

Being a disciple is a matter of choice. It is not going to happen by merely getting on with life and hoping for the best. I need to spend time reading about Jesus, thinking through the issues that his gospel raises, talking to him, listening for a response and trying out any newly-discovered guiding principles to see if they work. None of this will happen unless I decide to do it.

This is a good a moment as any to set down my decision: I choose to be a disciple of Jesus.

HWJDI and WWJD

Being a disciple of Jesus (according to Dallas Willard whose book I am reading over breakfast sometimes and getting through very slowly) does not mean trying to live the life Jesus did but trying to work out how Jesus would live my life. So in terms of work, for example, being a disciple doesn't involve taking up carpentry, but being the kind of Methodist minister Jesus would be. Hence the question to ask is not so much "What would Jesus do?" but "How would Jesus do it?"

Today I have to lead a Bible study (two actually - the same one repeated). How would Jesus go about it? How would he present Philippians 3 to the particular group due to gather today? I also have to accompany my mother to St Pancras and see her safely on her way home, then stay on in London to help my wife buy a coat (a belated 50th birthday present from her brother). How would Jesus do that? How would he spend time with family?

These are good questions to ask. But they are not quite enough. It's all very well asking HWJDI in relation to the particular ways I intend to spend my time today, but on what basis do I make choices about the activities I pursue? My present method is to do the things I've got to do or the things scheduled in my diary and after that (or often, in chronological terms, before that) just do whatever occurs to me on the whim of the moment. I need to ask WWJD, not regarding a particular situation but regarding my overall plans for the day (or week or whatever).

Today's answer to 'what' is (I think) lead the Bible studies; look after my family; start preparing for Sunday; make decisions about which important jobs need to be tackled early in the new year. The answer to 'how' is varied but includes adverbs like 'well', 'with care' and 'compassionately'.

Enough

The New Year began with me learning to cope with disappointment. Last night season two of The IT Crowd was shown in its entirety. The previous night I had recorded the whole of season one and put it on DVD to be seen at my leisure. This morning I wanted to do the same for season two. But I put a chapter marker in the wrong place and in trying to remove it I deleted five and a half episodes (out of six). Logic tells me not to be distraught over this. After all, I have seen all the episodes when they were first broadcast. And by and large I managed to shrug philosophically and not let this mistake spoil my day.

So it was appropriate that this week's article from The Alban Institute was about the guiding principle of 'enough'. I don't need more DVDs waiting to be watched. I have enough already. I'm always talking about trying to live a simpler lifestyle. I should be rejoicing that when my will-power lets me down, my technical incompetence steps in to help out.