Personality test

I liked this assessment - I wonder why?

Sound bytes

I finally got around to watching Amazing Grace, the story of William Wilberforce's anti-slavery campaign. A good DVD always makes short work of the mountain of ironing. I was really impressed by the film. I'm not up on history so I wouldn't have a clue how accurate it is and I have heard some criticism on that front. But it was a really good, inspiring story. Apart from Ioann Gruffudd being good eye candy, there were also some good sound bytes in the movie. Like when Wilberforce was asked: "So you've found God?" To which he replied: "No, God has found me - and its pretty inconvenient". This resonated with yesterday's gospel reading about the lost sheep. God comes and roots us out. I was also struck by the quandary he felt about having to choose between becoming a preacher or a political activist. For me, and I know for many others, they go hand in hand. The gospel imperative does not allow us to neglect either course. I'd love to use this film in a church movie night and just let it speak for itself. Maybe I'll get round to that soon too.

Lost or found?

Todays gospel - the lost sheep, lost coin parables was challenging for those of us who consider ourselves "found". Aren't we, with the Scribes and Pharisees of Jesus' day, guilty of subscribing to an exclusive, respectable club? Vincent Donovan, in Christianity Rediscovered recounts the wisdom imparted to him by one of the Masai elders among whom he worked. The old Masai compared our comfortable Western faith with that of a white hunter, whose involvement extends only to the eye and the finger as a target is shot from a safe distance. Real belief, however, the Masai elder likened to the committment of a lion going after its prey. His whole body is involved right to the kill. As for leaving everything to seek out God, the Masai elder knew that God is the one who takes the risks, coming after us, seeking us out. On those days when we assume the kingdom is down to us let's step back and hear the rejoicing that goes on in heaven.

And now for something completely different

Sometimes our village (and church) mirrors this British sit com - Last of the summer wine -far too closely. Each of these characters, Compo, cleggy and co has its mirror image in our community and probably in yours too.

My American friend spent a couple of evenings in the hotel with me during a recent stay and was mesmerised by the wholly unconscious sit com unfolding before her eyes.

As my profile reveals, I'm a fan of Vicar of Dibley. Many church folk find that offensive but, I believe, that's because it is too near the truth of the matter. Certainly the parish council meetings held in Dibley would fit just as well in Inverkip.

At the risk of being tarred and feathered or possibly even burnt as a witch I think we have to take ourselves a lot less seriously. Humour sees us through much in life and the ability to step back from situations and see the comedy can only lead to less tension all around.

Cold comfort

This poor wee mite flew into our window this evening and died instantly. A song we used to sing in Sunday School went: His eye is on the sparrow, so I know he watches me. Even from a young age I thought this song brought little comfort. On my daily tramp over fields to school, I would encounter dead birds often enough to doubt that God offered them much protection.

Thankfully as I grew I encountered folk who allowed me to express these doubts and who listened to my hard questions. Until now, still on that same journey of question and discovery and learning to live with mystery, I have the privelege of accompanying others as they grapple with faith and with doubt.

I give thanks every day that we don't have to be like the queen in Alice in Wonderland who had to believe in 6 impossible things every morning before breakfast. Its not just practice in believing we need but real people to stand alongside us as we refuse to settle for easy answers but keep on seeking out more and more difficult questions.

Monochrome

Not quite sure how this picture ended up black and white instead of full colour. But it seems appropriate since it was taken at a scouting centenary exhibition.

Seeing things in black and white is quite a novelty these days, photography wise - and quite stylish. Its hard to imagine that this kind of production would have once been very modern. As the philosopher says: What has happened before will happen again. What has been done before will be done again. There is nothing new in the whole world. (Ecclesiastes 1 v 9)

As I get older, less and less appears black and white. There are so many shades of grey. I wonder, is this a good sign or a sign of resignation and futility? I would contend that it is a sign of reality but also of optimism. Nothing appears in monochrome, there's always some light and shade. And, occasionally, glorious, dazzling technicolour.

One of those days

In contrast to yesterday, today has been pretty frustrating. Do you ever feel you're speaking a different language from everyone else?
I feel like asking in belligerent tones - what part of that do you not understand? But of course I'm much too polite - or perhaps just too much of a coward.
Communication is a huge thing in all of life. In the church, it seems to be the bane of life. Why is that when the gospel we preach is so simple? Sure the road isn't easy and disipleship means sacrifice but the underlying core of love that underpins the whole of Christian life is not rocket science - just nuclear.
It must be bad - I feel moved to write another poem.
Instead of Presbyterian heron, this is:

Presbyterian love

Does love in the church always have to be at a distance.
Clinical.
Full of decorum.
Not even a hint of spontaneity.
Far less emotion.
Love - is it me or the others
Am I making it too simple - or too complex
Are my eyes too rosy - or are theirs growing cataracts.
What is there to misinterpret
Well, it seems there is plenty
So I'll have to try again
Another day -
when I've topped up the reserves.
God give me love.