Goths, grungers and emos

Last night, as part of our local street pastor training, we had a fascinating illustrated talk about the dress code, attitude, musical taste and preferred drugs of various youth cultures. Namely, hip-hop; gangsta; punk; BMX-er; skateboarder; goth; grunge; metalhead; emo and chav. On the one hand, it opened my eyes to the issues we encounter amongst some of the youngsters we meet on a Friday night patrol. On the other hand I found some of the attitudes alien and depressing. How can the gospel of Jesus get through to such people? How can such sub-cultures be redeemed? Is there any way they can become an expression of the Christian faith? Can they take on board the Christian ethos whilst maintaining their own unique characteristics?

I am used to the concept that the kingdom of God has room for many kinds of sub-cultures - elderly high church Anglicans, black Pentecostals, conservative evangelical students, earnest environmental activists, sportspersons, bikers, politicians etc. etc. Is there room for Christian metalheads or Christian goths or Christian emos? Maybe God is more open and welcoming than we imagine.

One thing I do know is that it is too easy to look down on such people because I feel I am better than they are. The talk ended with a paragraph which sounded strangely familiar:

"The street pastor struck up a pose and prayed to the Lord, 'I thank you that I am not like that goth / grunger / emo / chav. I give my time generously and patrol the streets every Friday.'"

A dawn sky to lift the spirits

The temptation is strong to list all the things I have been doing over the last ten days. Suffice it to say I have been lacking the time (and motivation too if I'm honest) to maintain my online spiritual journal.

Another temptation is to describe my current status in terms of work. OK, that's a temptation I can't resist, but I'll keep it brief: Yesterday (Sunday) lunchtime we set off for Macclesfield to spend a few days with our son. My next 'work' commitment is on Thursday evening, so I have three clear days to enjoy the company of wife, son and dog. Except that there are three events on Friday and Sunday which I have not begun to prepare for, plus a few major issues that I need to keep on top of. The wonderful thing about the internet is that I can work away from home. The problem about the internet is that I can't escape work even when I leave home. Anyway, nil desperandum. I reckon an hour or two focused work each day will see me through and still leave plenty of room to enjoy life.

The plain fact is that I cannot identify offhand any significant spiritual moments in recent days. The closest I can come up with is the beautiful red sky, accompanied by a randomly chosen MP3 track which superbly complemented the mood, which lifted my spirits as I set off to buy the morning paper. Thanks, Lord, for simple reminders of your glory. Oh yes - there was also the great family hilarity last night produced by (surprisingly considering self and wife have little car interest) an episode of Top Gear. In fact, come to think of it, life is full of wonderful and exciting moments. I just don't normally stop to recall them.

"What is that to you? You must follow me."

Last night I led a discussion on the Apostles' Creed for one of our house fellowships. It was interesting to hear such a variety of views expressed during the course of the evening. For example:

• God cannot be all-powerful (given the presence of suffering)
• Human beings have created the concept of God
• Jews, Christians and Muslims believe in the same God but take different paths up the mountain
• The virgin birth is irrelevant; Jesus was the son of Joseph
• No-one believes in hell these days
• If God created everything he must have created evil as well as good
• You can believe in a spiritual realm where you go after death without necessarily believing in God

OK, so I'm being very selective here. There were some more orthodox Christian views put forward too. But how did I react to all this?

As a reasonably evangelical Christian, I am disappointed that some of my congregation hold a radically different Christian belief to mine. As a world-weary cynic, I am unsurprised by all this and rather intrigued by the range of angles from which people approach their faith. As the minister of this group of people, I am able to take it all in my stride and not be shocked by it. As an intellectual who has recently been wrestling with some of the big questions raised by Richard Dawkins, I find myself sharing the doubts and struggles of others.

One big question is how you can believe in an all-powerful loving God who apparently allows tremendous suffering. Now I need to choose my next words carefully lest I sound horribly selfish and callous. It has occurred to me this morning that whilst I sympathise with the suffering of others and would want to do what I can to help them, I do not suffer greatly myself. Whilst I would find it difficult to say to someone else, "simply trust God and you'll be OK" (because surely there are thousands who have trusted God and whose lives are far from OK), the fact is that whenever I have put my trust in God, he has not let me down.

What I'm saying is that when I look at how other people struggle to reconcile their faith and their suffering, I find I share their doubts. (In passing, I ought to note that there do exist many who have not only reconciled their faith to their suffering but have in the process become shining examples of what it is to be a Christian.) When P said last night that she couldn't see how God can be all-powerful I understood what she meant. But when I look at my own life and experience I find it difficult to think of an occasion when suffering really rocked my faith. Maybe it's because my level of suffering has always been low. Maybe it's because my faith has never been truly tested. Whatever the reason, my experience of God has been good. Why then, should I allow other people's experiences to disturb my relationship with God?

As Jesus once said to Peter when he showed curiosity over another disciple, "What is that to you? You must follow me."

Can our prayers change God's mind?

There are two points of view which make prayer a pointless exercise.

1. God never interferes with the world as we know it, but expects us to manage it ourselves.
2. God has the whole of life planned out for us. Everything is fore-ordained and everything happens according to his predetermined will.

If we believe that God has no control over events, or if he has absolute control over events, then why bother to pray? Either he can't do anything to help, or he has already decided what is going to happen and our prayers are not going to make any difference.

(A short pause to clarify the meaning of the words I am using. By prayer, I mean specifically requests for certain things to happen. By pointless, I mean that our prayers have no effect on the world around us. I acknowledge that there are many other kinds of prayer than mere requests. I also acknowledge that prayer is never entirely pointless because it changes the way we think and act. But for the scope of this particular post, I am exploring the question "Does prayer make things happen?" and the related question "Can our prayers change God's mind?")

My own view is that God has considerable control over the world. He can and does interfere. But he has chosen to withdraw his control from certain aspects of life to make room for human freedom. We too can and do have an impact on the world by the choices we make. God may well have broad overall plans for the life and future of the world, but he doesn't dictate every detail of our existence. Therefore God's plans have to be flexible. As an illustration, I decide it's time to let our dog out into the garden. I stand by the door and call her, but she doesn't come. So I don't open the door as I intended. I decide to try again in half an hour. My plans are flexible. In fact, this is the way we interact with each other all the time. We have our plans but they are constantly being adjusted in the face of what other people choose to say or do. If the plans are particularly important to us we may not want to adjust them very much, but we still have to adjust. (For example my plan to 'open the back door for the dog' becomes 'go and drag her out of bed and give her a push out of the door'.)

Similarly God must be constantly revising the way he interacts with the world to take into account the varied choices and actions of its inhabitants. If the situation changes, his response to it will change. A situation in which I am not praying about a particular issue is different from a situation in which I am praying about that issue. And a situation in which I am praying desperately about the issue and persuading others to join me in prayer is different again. It therefore ought to be no surprise if God reacts differently to these three situations.

In other words, I believe our prayers can change God's mind. The very fact that we pray introduces a new factor into the situation. Maybe this will be enough for God to review his plans and respond accordingly. Maybe not. But I don't believe prayer is pointless.

With that in mind: Lord, I pray that our joint circuit meeting tonight will lead to a closer union of our two circuits and to a clear decision about the staffing of the new circuit. There are so many issues and strong feelings around, that the meeting has the potential to drive us apart rather than bring us together. Lord, may we be able to share all our concerns openly and honestly, but may we then come to a common mind on how we believe you are leading us.

• The outcome: YES! Every prayer was answered in the affirmative. The meeting concluded with a unanimous vote. (The only dissenting votewas an email from someone who couldn't be present.)

The clouds ye so much dread...

The third verse of God moves in a mysterious way runs as follows

• Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take,
• The clouds ye so much dread
• Are big with mercy, and shall break
• In blessings on your head.

I've just found the truth of that. Two phone calls which I've been putting off for several days because I expected them to be difficult and upsetting have both turned out to be friendly and far less disturbing than I imagined.

I'm very good at delaying doing the things I don't like. It's far more satisfying just to get on and do them. If they turn out to be bad at least they are in the past, and if they turn out OK, then extending the period of worry is plain stupid.

Am I worthy of the sacrifice of others?

I've just finished preparing my talk for the Remembrance Day parade service. In it I will be reminding everyone of how much their current life and freedom depends on the sacrifice (in varying ways) of others - of parents, of those who fought in the world wars, and of Jesus.

One further thought occurs to me (which I won't include in tomorrow's service). I am in the fortunate position of being the minister in a generally trouble-free and active church. Life for me is pretty good at the moment. And this is in large part due to the goodwill extended to me by members of the local church and circuit. Many people are prepared to put themselves out to help me in practical and organisational ways. Many pray for me and offer friendship and support. And the 64,000 dollar question is "Do I live in a way worthy of their support and sacrifice?"

The honest answer has to be "Not nearly as much as I should."

Rejoice! My lost diary is found!

I discovered yesterday evening, as I was gathering together what I needed for the church council, that my diary had gone missing. Admittedly, the data was recently synchronised with my laptop, so it's loss was more of an inconvenience than a disaster, but the hassle of replacing it and the security risk if it fell into the hands of some miscreant were preying on my mind for the first part of the morning. So it was with great delight and with gratitude for answered prayer that I discovered it had slipped down the side of the car seat.

Jesus - the life and soul of the party

I was reminded this morning that if the average person were to draw up an ideal guest list for people they wanted to come to a party, Jesus would probably not be included. This is a shame, because during his ministry he was widely known as 'Jesus, the party animal' (I paraphrase).

This has made me realise that I am currently carrying around in my mind the wrong picture of Jesus. I imagine him as a kind of life coach hovering over my shoulder making sure I am worthy in character and effective in ministry. This leads to the following:

1. I find the thought of spending time with Jesus (in prayer for example) something of a chore rather than a pleasure.
2. I am willing to put up with his presence (and indeed expect it) when I am working or engaged in any kind of Christian activity, but I ignore him when I want to relax or have a laugh.
3. The concepts of faith and work are becoming linked in my mind. For example, this supposedly spiritual journal is turning (like all my other attempts to keep a journal) into a record of how much or how little I am achieving.
4. I focus more on trying to please God than on simply enjoying God.
5. If this continues I will end up preaching a dry gospel of "knuckle down and behave yourself" instead of a living gospel of "Rejoice! Jesus loves you!"

So, I'm sorry, Lord, for neglecting your simple non-judgemental friendship. For what remains of the day, let's stick together and enjoy it, shall we?

Busy-ness leaves no room for guilt

The following situation is fairly typical.

• (a) I have a number of urgent and important tasks to perform. These are not scheduled events. The timing is my own responsibility, but the expectation of others is that I will be giving them some priority. Current examples include overseeing the process of circuit amalgamation especially regarding finance, staffing and mission; visiting fringe members; producing a church web site; visiting assorted groups to promote our parent and toddler service.
• (b) I have a day or two when the scheduled events leave little or no room for anything else. For example, Saturday consisted of a churches together prayer meeting, a coffee morning, an afternoon of street pastor training, a trip to the supermarket and an evening writing sermons. Sunday consisted of a morning service, an afternoon service for the bereaved followed by tea, and belatedly washing up our own Sunday lunch pots and pans. Admittedly the evening could have been usefully employed, but wasn't - unless you count a puzzle, a short walk and an episode of "House" as useful.

These two factors combine as follows. I have failed to do any of the tasks in paragraph (a), but I don't feel in the slightest guilty because I have been engaged in all the activities described in (b). What I need to realise is that "I've been busy" is not a good excuse for non-achievement. It is my responsibility to take enough control of my diary that I make time for the urgent and important unscheduled tasks. Either that, or I don't promise to do in the short term what I know I will not have time to do.

The consequences of discipline (or its absence)

I have a poor grasp of cause and effect. Intellectually I know that lots of fatty food will increase my weight. But deep in my bones I feel that huge meals on special occasions or indecent amounts of chocolate when I’m in a grey mood will somehow contribute nothing towards my size or health.

Similarly I know at an intellectual level that all this paperwork facing me (and that includes the list of jobs I have promised people to do and/or people expect me to do) has to be tackled immediately if not sooner. If it isn’t then I will have to spend the later part of the week making excuses - “Sorry this is not as well prepared as it should be, but I’ve really not had time...” But my gut instinct is to chill out and hope it will go away of its own accord.

Most importantly of all, my mind is clear on the incontrovertible fact that if I fail to make time to pray or to study the Bible or to turn my thoughts to God, then my spiritual life will suffer. But my general attitude to life remains “God loves me, so I reckon I’ll be able to muddle through somehow.”

Setting down this contrast between thoughts and feelings has helped me take to heart the need for self-discipline. It’s not good enough to do what I want and hope the consequences turn out for the best. The desire for bodily, mental or spiritual health ought to be strong enough to motivate my everyday behaviour.

Local boy made good

Last weekend I returned to my home church in Sheffield to preach at their church anniversary services. It was great to see so many friends and family (mother, sister, uncles) again, including a few old friends who made a special effort to come along. I brushed up a couple of good sermons from recent months, took along my guitar and demonstrated my power point skills. I couldn’t go wrong. Even though I gave confusing instructions during the all-age address and later knocked over and smashed my glass of water, everyone loved me.

This has done wonders for my ego, and I have to remind myself that the circumstances were extremely propitious. They wouldn’t feel the same if they had me week in week out, or if I was a stranger rather than the nice young man they remember from 35 years ago.

So it was refreshing that at the end of the evening service R disagreed politely but strongly with a lot of my sermon. He couldn’t believe in a God who tinkers, a God who is out there somewhere who will hear and answer prayers. He believes in a God who exists in people and nowhere else. A shame we didn’t have time to debate theology at any length. Imagine my distress when R had to give way to a long queue of people wanting to shake my hand and tell me how wonderful I was.

Chain Letters – why I disapprove

Have you ever had one of those letters which promised you eight thousand pounds if you just sent off one pound to the top address in the accompanying list? The principle is that you duplicate the letter and send it to 20 people (within 2 days), adding your address as the third in the list. These each send it to another 20 (400 altogether) with your name moved up to number two, and these in turn each send it to 20 people (8000 in all) with your name now in first place. Hence in 6 days, eight thousand people will each send you a pound.

You can’t fault the mathematics, but it only works if everyone keeps to the rules. I once (against my better judgement) took part in a similar scheme whereby you sent off a bar of chocolate and received back 36 bars. The principle was the same as above, but this time there were only two names on the list and you each sent the letter to only six other people. I didn’t expect to receive as many as 36, but half a dozen would have been nice. I received zero.

It is actually a good thing that people break the chain. In my initial example, if one person starts the letter and everyone responds in 2 days, then 18 days later there will be 25 billion people trying to send a letter (that’s several letters per person on the planet). At the end of one month every single person on the planet will be attempting to post billions of separate pound coins each day in response to the billions of letters they are each receiving.

With the advent of email the chain letter has come into its own and not all are obvious. There are warnings about viruses that simply must be passed on to everyone in your address book. Sometimes these claim to be from official sources like the police – as if the police would utilise chain emails to spread such warnings! There are worthy petitions to be signed. There are good Christian messages, often accompanied by high quality graphics. The latest I have come across (and didn’t even recognise at first) is my blog being ‘tagged’ (see previous post) by a fellow blogger. What all these have in common is that you are asked to pass on the message to others.

Whilst I sometimes enjoy the message / joke / whatever, and whilst I appreciate being thought of as worthy of receiving such friendly messages, if I find that the bottom line is “send this on to six / ten / all of your friends”, then I have a simple rule. I don’t. Why should I put my friends under an obligation, however slight, to pass on what I send to them? If I send something enjoyable or interesting with no strings attached and they choose to forward it, then well and good. But it seems to me an unwarranted imposition to build in to any message an expectation that my friends pass it on to their friends.

It occurs to me that if I am to remain true to this principle I ought to be careful how I preach on evangelism. I shouldn’t expect people to share their faith with others because I tell them they ought to. Rather I should encourage them to get so excited about their faith that they simply have to share it with others because it’s too good to keep to themselves.

Seven random facts about myself

I was recently ‘tagged’ by another blogger. (see comment on this post.) On investigation I found this was a form of chain letter – a concept I disapprove of (see next post for my thoughts on chain letters). The idea is to post seven random facts about myself and then ‘tag’ more people. Whilst I appreciate being noticed by my tagger, I have decided not to continue the chain by tagging anyone else. Mind you, I’m not averse to being given an excuse to post seven random facts:

1. I can recite from memory The Hunting of the Snark by Lewis Carroll. It has 141 stanzas and takes about half an hour.
2. I belonged to the last scout troupe in Sheffield to switch from the old uniform (khaki shorts and wide brimmed hat) to the new (long trousers and beret). We retained the old ways for about a year longer than we were supposed to.
3. In 2003 the BBC ran a poll of favourite books from which they announced the Big Read top 100. At the time I had read 37 of these. A few I had not completed – for example I had only read the first book of the Gormenghast trilogy and I gave up on Bridget Jones at the end of March – but I still felt I had done enough to count them in the total of 37. As of today (and this figure includes five where I failed to reach the last page but made a valiant attempt), I have read 85 out of 100.
4. I enjoy wearing socks in bright colours, preferably striped. Sadly these are rarely manufactured in men’s sizes.
5. My Myers-Briggs personality type is ENTJ.
6. Before I step out of the bath or shower I quickly remove excess moisture from my hair and body with a warm flannel. My family regard this behaviour as weird. But who leaves wet patches on the bathroom floor, or ends up draped in a soggy towel, eh? Not me.
7. I have a first class honours degree in Mathematics. I believe this entitles me to the following rant concerning people who abuse the word ‘infinitely’: How dare people say (for example), “such and such makes the problem infinitely more difficult” when by any reasonable standards it only makes it two or three times more difficult! Infinity is bigger than three. Infinity is a majestic concept which even mathematicians with years of training can hardy begin to grasp. There are many distinct kinds of infinity, some of which are bigger than others. And when I say many I actually mean there are an infinite number of distinct kinds... and I’m not talking about some piddling little infinite number like a countable infinity of distinct kinds. The variety of distinct kinds of infinity is beyond your (and my) wildest dreams. And yet people casually talk of ‘infinitely’ when they mean ‘many’. We have a range of words to describe many – several, dozens, thousands, billions, ten to the power of a googol etc. Why cannot we employ these more accurate words in our everyday speech and reserve ‘infinitely’ for the times when we really mean ‘infinitely’? (End of rant.)

Rugby World Cup - winning without try-ing

I'm way too busy at the moment (not by choice) to do much blogging. I thought I might record my thoughts on the cup final, and then realised it had the makings of an editorial for our church magazine. As the deadline was yesterday this meant I could kill two birds with one stone. So here are my thoughts, soon to be distributed far and wide to our congregation and mailing list:

Dear Friends,

As most of you ought to know by now, I am not particularly interested in or well informed about sport. But last night I watched the Rugby World Cup final. England were playing South Africa, and I thought it would be a shame if England won an exciting match with a nail-biting finish and I missed it. As it happened, South Africa won.

Now, you must bear in mind that I am a complete novice when it comes to rugby and therefore what I’m about to say may be entirely missing the point... but I thought the idea of rugby was to score tries by carrying the ball over the opponents base line. (I’m sure there’s a more technical name for it.) So, for me, the one dramatic moment in the match was when an English player made a spectacular run, at the end of which there was a bit of a scuffle, a few quick passes and a try in the far corner. Except it wasn’t a try. After a tense wait reviewing the video tapes the referee decided the player’s foot had touched the chalk side line before the ball went down.

So, if there were no tries, why was the score not nil-nil? Because at apparently random moments during the game the referee awarded a penalty to one side or the other. Each penalty kick, if successful, was worth three points. I realise that penalties are not awarded arbitrarily and that there must have been some infringement of the rules, whether intentional or accidental, but the way it seemed to me was that just because South Africa only did this twice and England did it five times, the match went to South Africa.

I think the commentators viewed the result as a fair one, so I’m not complaining about who won, just the means by which they won. From my uninformed perspective it seems that to win the World Cup you don’t have to score tries. You merely have to stand firm against your opponents and not infringe the rules as often as they do.

This is a philosophy of life often adopted by the church or by individuals within it. Our aim is to resist the enemy by standing firm in our faith and not giving in to temptation, and to avoid breaking the rules – don’t murder, don’t steal, don’t commit adultery and so on. I’m not suggesting that any of this is bad. We need, in the words of the baptism service, to turn away from evil and all that denies God. One reason for prayers of confession in our services (besides the obvious fact that if we confess our sins God will forgive us) is that we have to be constantly vigilant that inappropriate attitudes and harmful behaviour do not worm their way into our lives. It does us good to examine our lives from time to time and seek God’s help to overcome wrong.

But if that’s all we do then we are missing half the battle. If the best that can be said of us is that “he/she never did anyone any harm”, then we are some way short of God’s hopes for us. We need to be actively engaged in seeking opportunities to do good – to carry the battle into the opponent’s half. As Paul put it in Romans 12:21, “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” We may not murder, but what do we do to help the victims of violence or war? We may not steal, but how generously to we give? We may not commit adultery, but in what ways do we promote and encourage healthy family relationships?

Jesus once told Peter that he was the rock on which the church would be built, “and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.” (Matthew 16:18) With the image of a rock in mind, I have often pictured the church as a fortress withstanding the armies of Hell. This is only half the story. The gates of Hades are not symbolic of an attacking force, but a last-ditch defence. Jesus expects his church to go on the offensive and assures us that (unlike the England team) we are well able to break through the enemy’s strongest defence and secure a wonderful victory.

What can Christians learn from Richard Dawkins? 3

The setting: A London district superintendents residential meeting. The speaker: The general secretary of the Methodist Church. The subject: "Deeks on Dawkins". The hope: That David Deeks, being both theologically astute and scientifically well-informed, would come up with some good logical counter-arguments to Richard Dawkins. The reality: An interesting and thought-provoking discussion on the Dawkins / Hitchens / Hawking / Pullman phenomenon, which failed to address any of the specific issues raised in The God Delusion.

Never mind. On the way to the meeting I was trying to frame a question to ask if opportunity arose, and I came up with further thoughts (following on from earlier post) on finding evidence for God's existence.

The issue boils down to this. If there exists objective evidence that can be presented to any reasonably intelligent person to convince them of God's existence (in the way that there is evidence which 'proves' to all but the ignorant or blinkered that the world is round rather than flat), then where is it? Believers in God would love to be able to prove their case in such a way. In the absence of objective evidence, all we are left with is subjective evidence - feelings, experiences, visions etc. - which (as Dawkins points out) could be explained as a trick of the mind.

My insight as I drove to the superintendents meeting was this. There does exist a category of personal objective facts which cannot be communicated to the general public. Here comes a trivial example. I remember a party where I noticed a cream bun had been left on my chair. I decided to act as if I hadn't seen it and pretended to sit down. The people on either side shouted last second warnings to save me from a creamy bottom. When I admitted I was only pretending they didn't believe me. I grew quite frustrated in trying to convince them. In the end I decided to regard their disbelief as a tribute to my acting skills. The point is that I saw the cream bun before I returned to my seat. This is an objective fact and not in any sense a trick of the mind. Yet I was totally unable to persuade other people of this truth.

In my lifetime I have had experiences which others may see as subjective (and if I'm honest they are far enough removed in time that my present self could see them as subjective too), but which were to me as clear and objective evidence of God's presence as anyone could wish for.

Me? A workaholic? Surely not!

My daughter accused me yesterday of being a workaholic. My response was that I am in no way a workaholic, but was in the unfortunate position of being whatever the opposite of a workaholic is and yet having to work hard. Was that a fair response?

The facts: a) I have always found it much harder to start work than to stop work. I have seen workaholic ministers who seem to get a buzz out of non-stop activity and have felt relieved not to be like them. One of the biggest compliments I was ever paid was from my doctor (some years ago now) who was also one of my church members. He said that if it had been any other minister exhibiting my symptoms he would have diagnosed a stress-related ulcer, but in my case he was sure that was not the problem. I take time off. I look forward to taking time off. To put it bluntly I am bone idle. This doesn't mean I sit and daydream. I am happy to be occupied, but I would much rather read a book, do a crossword or watch a film (or write a post for my blog) than get down to anything resembling work.

b) The last month or so has been busy and the last few days particularly so. I have even cut short my meal breaks because there has been essential preparation for the various meetings I have had to attend. My leisure seems to consist of snatched moments here and there rather than unhurried luxurious relaxation. And although I have complained aloud (e.g. "It's nine thirty in the evening and this is the first time since breakfast I've not been actively engaged in something.") I may be secretly enjoying the sensation of having such a busy diary.

Horror of horrors! I may be turning into a workaholic after all! My only scheduled activity today is Street Pastor duty tonight. My ambition for the day is basically to restore order to my desk, in-tray and email, all of which contain uncomfortable quantities of paperwork. I need another ambition to set alongside this - to demonstrate to my daughter that I have all the time in the world for her and for leisure. I'm NOT a workaholic. I'm not, I'm not, I'm not.

Charles Wesley, Jesus jingles and the orange beaker

Charles Wesley (pictured right) was born in 1707 and this year Methodists are celebrating his tercentenary. Our own local celebration, at which I was present but not actively participating, took place at Shoreham Parish Church. Vincent Perronet, the vicar of Shoreham for 57 years was a great friend, supporter and father figure to John and Charles Wesley.

Last night the parish church was packed with Anglicans and Methodists from outer London and northwest Kent. The present vicar welcomed 'John and Charles' (actors) and was heckled and pelted with scrunched up paper by a rabble in rural costume who objected to their presence. Several Methodist dignitaries attended or contributed to the service, including the Rev. Dr. Colin Morris who preached a cracking sermon about the role of the minstrel.

His key point was that ideas alone are not enough. The minstrel is able to encapsulate the key ideas of a movement into powerful songs. He finds ways to express the thoughts of a people in contemporary language and melody so that the words and images sink into their very souls. The combination of poetry and music can make an impact beyond mere reason.

Towards the end of the sermon, Colin Morris made a comment about 'Jesus jingles' whose words were too trite to carry the weight of the Christian gospel. A murmur of approval ran through the congregation. In a different context, I would have argued that the point of 'Jesus jingles' was not to encapsulate good theology (though hopefully they would avoid bad theology), but rather to set a mood of worship and praise in simple terms which would be accessible to all, includig the uneducated or even illiterate.

On later reflection, my mind returned to the start of the sermon when Dr. Morris paused to drink from an orange plastic beaker. In such an old and distinguished setting, the beaker struck an amusing but jarring note. Couldn't they afford a nice glass tumbler? I realised that for some members of the congregation trite words and child-like tunes strike the same jarring note as the orange plastic beaker.

I still believe there is a place for ephemeral worship songs alongside more profound material (both old and new), but I have made a mental note that such songs need to be right for the context and should not be an off-putting intrusion. All this is very pertinent for today, because tonight is the first (after a six month break) 'Song Workshop' where we learn and practise a few contemporary songs for use in upcoming services.

Marriage break-up - the end of an era

Long ages past, my wife and I met at Durham university. I have since kept in touch with some of my college friends and she with some of hers. In two cases, one of my friends married one of her friends. Altogether we are one of eight married couples (in two overlapping sets) who keep in touch and meet up from time to time. Most have recently celebrated or are due to celebrate their silver wedding. Until yesterday I was amazed, delighted and comforted that despite the high divorce rate, all eight marriages were still going strong.

Yesterday six of the couples (with two husbands unavoidably absent) spent the day together. We thoroughly enjoyed catching up on each others news - mainly regarding the boyfriend / girlfriend / education / work situations of our assorted offspring. On the way home S passed on the news that two of our friends (part of the 'other' set) had split up. She didn't have many details but apparently they have just grown apart over the years and now decided to go their separate ways.

This is not the first time friends' marriages have come to an end, but it is the first time out of the Durham alumni crowd. I don't really know how I feel. Disappointed certainly, and sorry for the couple in question. I was hoping that writing this post would bring home to me more forcefully what has happened, but it seems a distant event. I don't feel any stronger than disappointed.

When people you meet regularly hit problems, you can sympathise and offer to support and help. When it's people you only see once every few years, you don't quite know what to say or do. In this case, we only heard on the grapevine rather than directly, and I think it may be best to wait and see what their annual Christmas letter tells us. Meanwhile, life goes on I suppose. Thank goodness that we have a faithful friend in Jesus. He is one person at least who I know will never disappoint us.

P.S. When I hear about unexpected marriage break-up I always want to announce to people that S and I have a rock-solid relationship and they shouldn't worry about us. But to say so would lead people to think, "Why is he telling us this? There must be something going on." So I keep quiet.

The word "Raca" is not in my vocabulary.

The word Raca is an Aramaic term of contempt and, according to Jesus, those who use it ought to be hauled before the authorities. (Matthew 5:21-22)

For a long time I have been proud of the fact that I have never committed murder. I can read with equanimity that part of the Sermon on the Mount which warns against being angry. I am not naturally an angry person. But I have only just discovered a worse attitude than anger - contempt. Anger makes you want to hurt other people. Contempt for them means you don't care if they get hurt or not. I may never say Raca, but if I look in my heart I find that I do harbour feelings of mild contempt for certain people or types of people. I don't care about them.

Lord, help me respect everyone I encounter today. Help me to recognise them as fellow human beings. Help me to care about their lives as much as I care about my own.

Thanks for the alarm call, Lord

As so often happens, when I sit on a comfortable sofa reading my book over lunch, my eyes start to droop and my mind starts to drift. There are two ways to go. One is to give in to sleep and grab a quick forty winks. The other is to stand up and move around to get the adrenalin pumping round again. This is not the first occasion that I have chosen the former but God has had other ideas and has intervened with a summons to get up and move.

On this occasion I had already decided to drop off at the end of the next page when the doorbell rang. J had arrived for a meeting that I wasn't expecting her to attend and was cancelled anyway. By the time I had given her a lift back home I was wide awake. Keep prodding me, Lord, when I need it.