50 shades

I have a confession: I have read and, wait for it, enjoyed the 50 shades trilogy. I read them before I was aware of all the controversy and publicity that has surrounded them and contributed to their popularity and escalating sales.
Deflecting good natured criticism from colleagues, I suggested, tongue in cheek, that I would write a theological exposition on the books finding in the books, as I did, themes of healing and forgiveness, of redemption and the transforming power of love. As well as movement from darkness into light.
Today, on a leadership course, I was reminded of another useful concept from 50 shades - the efficacy of solutions focussed coaching rather than problem focussed. The vulnerable Christian Grey in 50 shades while undergoing therapy begins to experience healing when he is encouraged by his latest in a whole string of therapists to move from concentrating on how he has become so damaged and turn his attention to how he wants life to be, seeking a solution rather than dwelling on the problem. Working that premise through today with a colleague in a training session opened up real possibilities and gave cause for optimism. Another positive from 50 shades!

Sharing the gift

I have long admired street artists - especially the musicians. I rarely pass without giving them something for their effort. Of course there are the usual frauds, folk who have picked up a cheap instrument and can barely hold a tune - like the squeeze box player in Ayr High Street who has one snatch of a tune that she plays over and over again. There is also, in the street artist population as in any other subset of society, those with mental health issues, forced onto the street by their inability to conform to societal norms or who refuse to wear the strait jacket that might enable them to "fit in".
But in my rose-tinted romanticised view I see street artists as free agents, liberated to indulge their gifts and to share those gifts to lighten others' days by providing bright spots in otherwise gloomy landscapes.
In street artists I see the calling fulfilled that belongs to us all - to share our gifts for the benefit of others, creating a world in which our mutual sharing lightens the load and makes each day that bit brighter. We are all called to practice our street artistry.

Practicing Resurrection

Walking the dog, I am always amazed by her eagerness to walk at least 4 times as far as I do - running on ahead, tracking back, foraging off at tangents. Always anticipating an adventure. Reminding me of a line from Wendell Berry's poem Manifesto. "Be like the fox who makes more tracks than necessary some in the wrong direction. Practice resurrection"
How transformative would it be if we were so careless with our energy, so easily distracted, so relentlessly hopeful.
What if, even in the midst of clouds, we retained the awareness that the sun is only temporarily obscured and let that knowledge affect how we expend our energy - unafraid of the extra trails but ever hopeful. Knowing that death is already defeated and that every new trail brings life-filled adventure. Daring to practice resurrection.

The best bits

Folk often ask me: What do you like most about ministry? In a week when it seems easy to name those bits I don't much like, it's a good counter balance to reflect on some of my favourite things:

• When I return home awash with coffee because I've gone from home to home, admiring people's family pictures, hearing people's stories, enjoying the luxury of pastoral visits.
• Driving or walking around the parish and being greeted by name by school children and, often, being introduced to their parents.
• Having the opportunity to share and articulate a family's memories as they pay tribute and say goodbye to a loved one.
• The sense of "ownership" of parish and the responsibility of loving and caring for souls.
• The knowledge of God present in every chance encounter.

Summer nights

One of the best things about summer, for me, is that there are very few evening meetings. That allows time for leisurely meals after a days work, long walks, time to read and, this summer, time to catch up on Twilight DVDs! I've also spent lots of time sitting in the garden until gone dark, something that could conceivably be done after an evening meeting but usually, by the time I get home, my head is too full to switch off and relax. This week sees the return to a fuller schedule and the loss of relaxed evening hours. The theory is that evening work time should be recouped during the day but that simply doesn't work - in theory or in practice. However, before I get too maudlin - I give thanks for the space I've enjoyed, for the opportunity for rest and renewal and I look forward to a time of transition - a time of easing back in gently to all the opportunities that abound as evenings become again filled with work.

Glass Ceiling

Following on from my last post... I discovered this reflection I wrote back in January 2010. Not sure why I didn't post it at the time...

The glass ceiling

They say it’s no longer an issue

But that’s just the men

We women know the truth

that they refuse to acknowledge-

That they are the esteemed,

the honoured members of the exclusive club

the ones who make decisions

who hold our future in their hands

In a church that claims to value

the gifts of all God’s people

those who are in reality acceptable

have to have the correct anatomy

and those of us missing that significant little feature

can run around in circles

loving, caring, making a difference

but not to the institution.

We can get close to the people

live out the incarnation

but be rejected and despised

by colleagues whose positions we threaten

Our warmth and sensitivity,

 our caring and compassion

are looked on with suspicion at best,

contempt at worst..

They bury their heads in the sand

and deny the truth

gush about being open and affirming

while firmly closing ranks.

We are not interested in competing,

but a leveling of the field would be good.

or at least the honesty to own

that the ceiling has not disappeared

not even been lowered

but is still firmly in place and being reinforced daily.

Liz Crumlish January 2010

Old but still going strong

I was painfully reminded recently of how accustomed I've grown to gender discrimination in the church. While mostly my response after years of building up a degree of immunity is a roll of the eyes, I felt the acute pain of younger women whose hopes and expectations have not become dulled like mine. And my hope for them is that they will never become "used" to it like I have but will keep on hoping for better, for the recognition of their calling and of their gifts and of their inclusion  - created, called and gifted, as we all are, in the image of God. My prayer is that those who refuse to be inclusive as God is inclusive will know the ostracism that they seek to create and find themselves on the margins. Or, as someone much greater than I said: "Do unto others...."