Learning to Walk

Happy Christmas!

As we were driving down the other day we were singing Christmas songs as we travelled (picture that, if you will!). And a couple of things struck me: first, I was getting excited about seeing family and friends and sharing in some fun, and hopefully meaningful, times with them; second, as I heard words about “everyone having fun” or “all I want for Christmas” or the general, somewhat banal, lyrics that are to be found in many of these songs, I was sad – because they clearly weren’t true of or for everyone; something which I feel God has been quite forcefully reminding me of throughout advent.

And I think it’s good that God has been doing this in my life. And it’s my prayer, for myself and others, that I take these advent reminders with me into the year that is to come as we seek to walk with Jesus and share the great news of life made possible because of Him.

But, as I sat there swinging between excitement and feeling-bad-for-being-excited, I felt God gave me one, final (for advent – hopefully not forever!) insight: and that was the picture of angels celebrating; and shepherd’s running to worship; and shared family time – albeit a few months earlier, when Mary went to be with Elizabeth; and Magi visiting, bearing gifts. And I was also reminded that whilst Jesus’ birth was into humble surroundings, that He is the most significant (doesn’t even do Him justice, I know) person ever to walk the earth, and so to unashamedly celebrate – with joy, the day of His birth is not only right, but is biblical and something which we must do.

And so praying that I hold onto the real reason for Christmas amidst the hype and the commercialism; and looking for ways of sharing life with those less fortunate – at Christmas and throughout the year; and seeking the strength of the Spirit so that I might live for Jesus and speak of Him to a world that seems so dark at times; I am going to enjoy celebrating the coming of The Light into the world.

I ended my first blog of advent with the words, “Come, Lord Jesus.” Well, He has come! And today we especially celebrate that. And whatever circumstances you find yourself in this Christmas, I hope that you too will be able to greet with hope the Risen Lord, born that first Christmas morning.

Happy Christmas!

The Christmas Journey

Well, we left home at about 4.30pm yesterday, waded through the traffic out of Ayr and down to the motorway; and then, a couple of Starbuck’s stops later, we were down at my parent’s! The journey was fine: a combination of Christmas music and an audio book meant that spirits were high and the time passed quickly.

Considering everything that has been spinning through my mind of late I guess that it was inevitable that as we made the journey down I found myself thinking a little about the journey that was taken by Mary and Joseph in the run-up to that first Christmas, as they travelled to Bethlehem for the Roman census. And as we travelled down in a warm, comfortable car – stopping anytime we needed a drink or a rest; and as we travelled 300+ miles in less than six hours; and as we arrived to a warm house, the smell of home-cooked food, and a freshly made bed; I couldn’t help but reflect on the differences between our Christmas journey and theirs – and not simply those that 2000 years of ‘progress’ (please note the inverted commas) has made.

But for them that was the cost of following the call of God on their life.

And it’s got me thinking: I remember a few years ago I did a placement at a church in Paisley which the minister described as “liberal catholic”. As a young boy I was a cathedral chorister and so the high church rituals didn’t throw me as much as some might have expected – even though it is certainly not a tradition that I feel at home in; but one thing that was very new to me was the veneration of Mary. In fact, in the run up to Easter – during Holy Week, there was one service where they said the ‘Hail Mary’.

Now I must confess that I was not at all comfortable with this and didn’t say it myself; particularly as it seemed to me that it was verging on, if not seen by many, as a prayer to Mary. And yet upon reflection I felt that there was a positive lesson for me to take from it: namely of the importance of remembering Mary’s faithfulness in responding to the call of God to bear His Son. And, of course, we can’t remember Mary without remembering Joseph: at the time her fiancée, who in a culture that prized honour incredibly highly, stood by His wife-to-be despite the fact that as a result of this he would share in her shame. And so in my own ‘low church’ fashion, I want to learn from that experience back in Paisley and seek to remember the example of Mary & Joseph, learn from it, and be inspired by it in my own life.

Because God calls us all to follow Him: the first calling on any of our lives. But then, both as individuals and communities, He asks us to follow and serve Him in particular ways at particular times. And so as we made the journey down to Mum and Dad’s last night, I took a moment to think about the journey that God is calling me to take as I seek to respond to His call on my life.

And as we prepare to celebrate Jesus’ birth I would urge you all to think about that as you remember the first Christmas journey: and I would urge each of us to remember Mary and Joseph’s example as we ask the Spirit’s direction and empowering to do likewise – for the glory of God and the increase of His kingdom.

Boiler Room

 

I was sent this video earlier in advent and it really struck a chord with me at the time and I was reminded of it at the prayer meeting this morning which met in the Southside 24/7 prayer room which, it strikes me, has become something of a boiler room for our church and community this week: there are great testimonies of answered prayer and stories of encouragement coming out of it even now!

Given that the hour is late, and I'm shattered after a long drive, I'll put the journey blog on tomorrow; but for today I felt that it was both inspirational and relevant as we prepare to celebrate Christmas. I particularly love the line about living out the great commandment and the great commission; and if you've been following the blog listen out for interdependence late on.

Enjoy...

Lonely at Christmas

Tomorrow we’re going to be travelling down to my parent’s to spend Christmas day with them and my grandparents, and to see other friends and family including my two brothers and their ladies (one wife, one girlfriend). Given the distance apart that the three of us have ended up (Germany, Scotland, South of England) the times when we are all together are few and far between, and this Christmas time will be even more special than usual as we’re also going to be celebrating my Dad’s 60^th birthday with a family meal out next Tuesday.

And for many of us, although the specifics will change, this will be a familiar sounding picture: family & friends gathered for meals & shared times, as well as the inevitable giving and receiving of presents and hospitality. And I’m sure that, in the main, it will be lovely.

But for some people it will be the exact opposite; a fact which has been playing on my mind on-and-off throughout this whole time of advent, and which was brought home quite forcefully by a piece that was being done on the radio when I was driving home earlier, about loneliness at Christmas. Because the bottom line is, of course, that whilst for many Christmas will be a time spent with those we care about the most, for others it will be nothing of the sort – for a whole range of reasons.

Because for some people there will be no-one at all; and for others there will be someone missing – perhaps for the first time. And for others still the horror of dysfunctional families and abusive relationships will mean that whilst they’re surrounded by people, they’ll be longing to break free from it all – even if that means being alone.

Now of course this is not to say that all people who will spend Christmas alone will wish they weren’t - many will choose that and prefer it; nor is it to say, as I’ve just alluded to, that some who will be spending time with people won’t be wishing they weren’t – even if it’s just for some peace and quiet at times.

But with these provisos I have found myself incredibly challenged as to how we look out for lonely people. And over the past few weeks a phrase has been almost constantly on my mind: “Leave no-one behind.” And if I were to try and ‘interpret’ what I think this means I’d say it is a simple – and yet difficult to achieve, reminder of the fact that whilst there would be a number of folk who would miss me if I wasn’t around this Christmas, that for others there is no-one. And that the role of the church in all of this is to look out for these people – both in our immediate community and also further afield.

Because as we prepare to celebrate Jesus’ birth, the very remembrance of it should remind us that the incarnation demonstrates supremely that God has not left us alone but that – in Christ, He came to share life with us, die for our sins, and to pour out the Holy Spirit to be with us always: in other words, because of Him we need never be alone again. And that being the case – as it most certainly is, we can, must and should look out for the lonely this Christmas.

And not only at Christmas…

Power in Weakness

Karen got a job yesterday!

It seems that a lot of the traffic to this blog comes directly from the links that I’ve been putting up on Facebook, and so the above news probably isn’t actually news to anyone. But it is nevertheless one of the most encouraging and exciting things to happen to us as a couple, and Karen in particular, this year and so it’s definitely worth saying again. However even as we celebrate, the disappointment of many – a feeling we well know given the number of “nearly but not quites” that she has had over the past 12 months, is not far from our minds. And yet we do celebrate, believing that this job is God’s provision and gift to us.

Because without going into things too much, it’s been a bit of a tricky year for us; although even as I say that I’m well aware of the fact that it has been far worse for far more people than us – both at home and abroad. But, keeping this right perspective on things, I have concluded that it’s still OK to recognise that it has been a bit tricky at times.

 

And as I’ve spent time reflecting on the year that is almost past – something I’ve inevitably done throughout but which has been particularly on my mind as we approach the end of it; and especially in light of yesterday’s great news, I’ve realised – and I really don’t want to sound sanctimonious or ‘holier than thou’ in saying this (and anyone who knows me will hopefully realise that I could never make such a claim to a higher level of holiness, and the rest of you will hopefully just trust me!), but I have genuinely realised and experienced that just as Paul writes to the church in Corinth, that God’s power really is “made perfect in weakness.”

Because this year has probably seen me, and I’m sure Karen, feel as weak as I ever have: there have literally been times where I haven’t known which way – in my own strength, I should turn. And this has ultimately driven us closer to God. Does that mean I’ve always sought Him straight away? And does that mean I’ve been walking closely enough to Him that at the first sign of trouble (or success) I’ve turned to Him? Unfortunately not: but sooner or later, and I confess that there are too many occasions when it has been later rather than sooner, it is in Him that we have sought refuge.

Which brings me to yesterday – because yesterday was one of those weak times for me. You see, I have been desperate for Karen to get a job: more than anything because of the affirmation it would give her. And yet as I drove a friend to his work yesterday morning I said to him that I had more-or-less given up hope: the stream of disappointments, coupled with the fact that it was almost always (understandably) folk who were known by the school already who got the jobs, had literally left me doubting that it was possible. And so whilst I prayed that it would happen, I was struggling to believe that it could.

And then at three o’clock yesterday afternoon the call came, and with it an overwhelming sense of thankfulness to God which was almost, if not totally (albeit, perhaps, wrongly), matched by my pride in my wife who, through the trickiest of times that we’ve had to face, has been an absolute star.

And then 2 Corinthians 12:9 came to mind: “But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.””

Because that really has been the story of the year for me: or at least the first bit has – I’m still working on the delighting in it bit! And as we approach Christmas; and as we remember a baby born in a dust-filled outhouse; I can’t think of a reminder that is more appropriate: that God’s power is demonstrated through weakness.

Because through that weak, tiny, helpless baby, God’s power was being and would be demonstrated. And we who know Him – and please God may that be many more next year – will, for power in weakness, be eternally grateful.

Interdependence

It strikes me that a number of the things that I’ve been thinking about this advent have been birthed in thought as I walk our dog along the beach. And today’s thought is no exception to that. You see, for the past month or so my most frequently sung song as I’ve walked along the beach (yes, I know it’s sad that I have a most frequently sung song) has been Good King Wenceslas, and in particular the verse that goes something like: “In his master’s steps he trod, where the snow lay dented. Heat was in the very sod, that the saint had printed…”

This may (!) seem somewhat unusual, so let me explain: there is a section on Ayr beach, as you get down towards the harbour, where the sand gets very soft. In fact it is so soft that when you reach this particular part you actually start to sink into it – not to the extent that it is dangerous, but just that you leave quite deep footprints. And on days when it’s particularly soft I started to walk back the way, and I realised something that had never really struck me before: that it really is easier to walk in the prints that have already been made than it is to set out on a new trail. And I realised what a great thing it was for the page boy of Good King Wenceslas to be able to walk in his master’s pre-trod steps; and I started singing the carol, and haven’t really stopped since!

And the thing that this has reminded me of is the importance of interdependence: in other words, the importance of having people around us to support us and help us and who can rely on us for that same support. Now, of course, as we approach Christmas we will all be reminded of the fact that in the Word becoming flesh we have been given the ultimate support, and in the sending of the Holy Spirit we have a constant help in all circumstances. But what I’ve been reminded of as I’ve walked on the beach and journeyed back in my own footsteps or those that another walker has left, is of the importance of journeying with other people and of breaking free of the social clamouring for independence and realising that made in the image of the God of community – Father, Son and Holy Spirit, that it is not independence that we should aim for, but interdependence.

And as we approach Christmas and as I reflect on the church into which the Bethlehem Baby has made it possible for us to be a part, the importance of interdependence, on relying on one another and recognising what we can all give to the communities in which God has placed us, seems particularly apt.

Extravagant Generosity

There was a story doing the rounds on Twitter yesterday in which people were saying that Mario Balotelli, the slightly eccentric Manchester City striker, has been driving around Manchester, dressed as Father Christmas, handing out twenty pound notes. I spent some time trying to find some ‘evidence’ to confirm the story, and given that I have found none I’m guessing that it isn’t true. But nevertheless I am challenged by it.

Because true or not (and let me reiterate the fact, before I’m accused of extreme naivety, that it almost certainly isn’t), what is Christmas if not a time for displaying extravagant generosity towards others? And, true or not, a story like this challenges me as to whether or not I will be doing anything that even remotely reflects the extravagant generosity of the incarnation.

Because let’s not forget just how extravagant it was: the Father sending the Son & the Son responding in obedience. After all, whilst “Mild He lays His glory by…” are easily sung words, too often dulled by their familiarity, the incarnation was not an easy or cost free thing for God. It involved the laying aside of His majesty on the part of Jesus as (and don’t worry, I’m not going into this one again) He became fully human. It involved temptation on a scale that none of us will ever face as the devil sought to sway Him from His mission. It involved the pain that only a parent witnessing their child making one bad choice after another could even begin to understand as He wept over Jerusalem. It involved the betrayal of friends; the scorn of family; the mocking of the authorities – both civil and religious. And ultimately, of course, it involved death in the most gruesome manner as He bore our sin and shame making it possible for us to come into relationship with God.

And this, all of it and much more, really is extravagantly generous. And as I think about it I’m reminded
of Romans, where we read about the fact that whilst for a good man someone might be prepared to die that Jesus demonstrated His love for us by dying “while we were still sinners”: In other words, He was extravagantly generous to us way before we knew, accepted, or worshipped Him. And I’m also reminded of Jesus’ teaching on the need to love our enemies and not just those who we find it easy to love: In other words, be extravagantly generous even to those you find it hard to be, don’t want to be, or don’t even know.

And so for me the “So what?” becomes this: that if I’m really serious about following Jesus; and if I’m really serious about modelling my life on His; and if I’m really serious about sharing my faith in how I speak and how I live, then I need to find ways of being extravagantly generous: and not just to those who I like, or know, or know will be generous towards me (because how often do we do that? They’re getting me something, so I’ll get them something!).

Because the incarnation was extravagantly generous: it was the Father looking out for the prodigal even while the wayward child was so far away that he didn’t know he needed saving; and it was the Father running out to meet him before he even made it back.

And if we’re serious about living incarnationally as we seek to follow Jesus, then we need to allow His light to shine through us as we seek to follow in His example of extravagant generosity.

And what better time to do that than Christmas?

SMS Christmas

Hat tip to a friend of mine who was behind the creation of this video!  Enjoy...