I was Pastor at Handsworth "Full Gospel Church" from 1987 to 1994. My Sabbatical wanderings took me back there this morning. They were always warm, welcoming and generous people and still are. It is 15 years since I was at a morning service there. The 'Handsworth Youth' of those days are now veterans - youthful veterans with a sense of humour which was evidenced in the annual church show. Ray Burton's comic songs made me cry with laughter. He and Paul Bennett's performances were supported by Jonathan, Terence and Michael. They were side achingly funny. They are still warm and welcoming people who know how to laugh.
So today was a very good experience for me. The young people leading worship were musically gifted. Loud! But here I show my age! What was on offer today clearly has a strong appeal. These Sabbatical visits remind me that there are many different kinds of churches for many different kinds of people.
Iain was the preacher today. He came to Handsworth as Youth Pastor during my time there and is now part of the leadership team. It was a good sermon with depth and it was well delivered.
This morning I remembered some of the lovely old people who were there when I came to Handsworth now long gone. I'm glad to have been a part of the church's history.
Sunday, 30 August 2009
Thursday, 27 August 2009
Fit for living.
As far as possible spiritual fitness and physical fitness should go hand in hand. Focusing on those two things is a sabbatical intention. So getting the right exercise, eating the right things and staying in the right weight range are good objectives. Sarah and I are signed up to Weight Watchers. Her focus is keeping me focused. She lets me get away with nothing! Her body is now so re-educated that a hotel full English breakfast made her very sick last weekend. Fat rejection!
In projectile mode! She has lost 18lbs and is 3lbs from her goal weight. An inspiration.
My Dad died this year just before his 90th birthday. He had a strong heart and a keen mind to the end. From his mid eighties his mobility diminished. His life became so confined it was no longer truly living. I hated seeing him shuffling painfully towards death. He hated it too. He finally quit in favour of heaven because he had had enough. I've thought lately of the coiled spring of energy that he used to be. He was a Sales Director and Pastor travelling 1000 miles per week. He got home Friday evenings to lead a Bible study, pastoral work Saturday and preaching twice on Sunday then back on the road on Monday. He relished every busy moment. Unable to stand on his own two feet was not the end he wanted.
"As my days so shall my strength be" is a Bible verse that I have always known though I can't remember the reference. It suggests the gift of strength coinciding with the gift of life. Strength to live fully until life is fully lived. It's a worthy objective; a noble ambition and a prayer. My prayer. No one knows what life will dish up. But we must do all that we can to live with energy and enthusiasm to the end.
Nikos Kanzantzakis speaks of his spiritual quest in his book 'Report to Greco.' In the early chapters he wrote of his Father "The Captain" who was a towering figure of a man who worked and fought tirelessly for the freedom of Crete. Years later when visiting Mount Athos he met a monk who had known his Father as a young man, "How is he now?" enquired the monk. "He just sits in the corner sorrowfully and silently waiting to die," replied Nikos. The monk was horrified, he said, "such a man should not die like that. The mountain should quiver from the impact of his fall whilst still reverberating from the pressure of his footprints."
Not an end that limps but leaps. Strength and days woven together. No guarantees but a good goal to aim at.
In projectile mode! She has lost 18lbs and is 3lbs from her goal weight. An inspiration.
My Dad died this year just before his 90th birthday. He had a strong heart and a keen mind to the end. From his mid eighties his mobility diminished. His life became so confined it was no longer truly living. I hated seeing him shuffling painfully towards death. He hated it too. He finally quit in favour of heaven because he had had enough. I've thought lately of the coiled spring of energy that he used to be. He was a Sales Director and Pastor travelling 1000 miles per week. He got home Friday evenings to lead a Bible study, pastoral work Saturday and preaching twice on Sunday then back on the road on Monday. He relished every busy moment. Unable to stand on his own two feet was not the end he wanted.
"As my days so shall my strength be" is a Bible verse that I have always known though I can't remember the reference. It suggests the gift of strength coinciding with the gift of life. Strength to live fully until life is fully lived. It's a worthy objective; a noble ambition and a prayer. My prayer. No one knows what life will dish up. But we must do all that we can to live with energy and enthusiasm to the end.
Nikos Kanzantzakis speaks of his spiritual quest in his book 'Report to Greco.' In the early chapters he wrote of his Father "The Captain" who was a towering figure of a man who worked and fought tirelessly for the freedom of Crete. Years later when visiting Mount Athos he met a monk who had known his Father as a young man, "How is he now?" enquired the monk. "He just sits in the corner sorrowfully and silently waiting to die," replied Nikos. The monk was horrified, he said, "such a man should not die like that. The mountain should quiver from the impact of his fall whilst still reverberating from the pressure of his footprints."
Not an end that limps but leaps. Strength and days woven together. No guarantees but a good goal to aim at.
Tuesday, 25 August 2009
Army Cadets
Just had a busy few days in Otterburn Army Camp. (A statement I never expected to make in this life time!)
Our son Paul is in the military and Barbs and I and his sister, Sarah are hugely proud of him. Before he went to Afghanistan he made a DVD. A collage of stills and videos of him growing up from infancy to the present, set to music. Very moving. We couldn't watch it whilst he was in the war zone. We could only pray for his safe return. Our hearts go out to those parents whose sons have returned in a flag draped coffin.
We stepped into Paul's territory recently when we visited him in the USA. He is on exchange to US Air Force for 2 years and is Flight Commander running the combat and technical training school on a large Airbase in Georgia. My little boy whose first 3 words were "Mummy, sweeties, football" (not necessarily in that order!) is now this 6ft 5" commanding character who calls forth respect and trust from his men. He made the right choice of career and it has been good for him though not without its moments of anxiety for us!
So having a son in the military has made me think of young people who set their sights on a military career. They often begin in the Cadets. Part of sabbatical exploration has been to see hundreds of these young people at their annual training camp. I've met energetic, enthusiastic young people full of hope and high ideal. I've met some great volunteers including the chaplains who endeavour to meet the spiritual needs of these young people and lay a foundation of faith.
Army food takes no account of calories! Sugar, fat and carbohydrates were in plentiful supply!
Also sleeping in an Army billet meant encountering men who could snore louder than me! Life is a great and constant learning experience!
Our son Paul is in the military and Barbs and I and his sister, Sarah are hugely proud of him. Before he went to Afghanistan he made a DVD. A collage of stills and videos of him growing up from infancy to the present, set to music. Very moving. We couldn't watch it whilst he was in the war zone. We could only pray for his safe return. Our hearts go out to those parents whose sons have returned in a flag draped coffin.
We stepped into Paul's territory recently when we visited him in the USA. He is on exchange to US Air Force for 2 years and is Flight Commander running the combat and technical training school on a large Airbase in Georgia. My little boy whose first 3 words were "Mummy, sweeties, football" (not necessarily in that order!) is now this 6ft 5" commanding character who calls forth respect and trust from his men. He made the right choice of career and it has been good for him though not without its moments of anxiety for us!
So having a son in the military has made me think of young people who set their sights on a military career. They often begin in the Cadets. Part of sabbatical exploration has been to see hundreds of these young people at their annual training camp. I've met energetic, enthusiastic young people full of hope and high ideal. I've met some great volunteers including the chaplains who endeavour to meet the spiritual needs of these young people and lay a foundation of faith.
Army food takes no account of calories! Sugar, fat and carbohydrates were in plentiful supply!
Also sleeping in an Army billet meant encountering men who could snore louder than me! Life is a great and constant learning experience!
Wednesday, 19 August 2009
York today.
My lovely daughter Sarah tells me I am not quite getting the hang of this blogging thing. Too long. Not pithy enough. Must try harder!
York today. Visited All Saints the Pavement. Stood in pulpit where Wesley frequently preached. Waited for tingling hands and feet - nothing!
Attended mid-day Eucharist in Minster. The rhythm and cadence of Book of Common Prayer have beauty and power for anyone brought up on King James version as I was.
Immersed in history again - York where Constantine was proclaimed Emperor; York where Cuthbert was consecrated Bishop; York where my daughter Sarah got ejected from a club for having a ketchup fight!! Well not all history is glorious. It can be messy too.
York today. Visited All Saints the Pavement. Stood in pulpit where Wesley frequently preached. Waited for tingling hands and feet - nothing!
Attended mid-day Eucharist in Minster. The rhythm and cadence of Book of Common Prayer have beauty and power for anyone brought up on King James version as I was.
Immersed in history again - York where Constantine was proclaimed Emperor; York where Cuthbert was consecrated Bishop; York where my daughter Sarah got ejected from a club for having a ketchup fight!! Well not all history is glorious. It can be messy too.
Tuesday, 18 August 2009
Walking the Heritage coast from Runswick Bay to Whitby yesterday with the iconic ruins of Whitby Abbey in my sight made me think of history. When I went to Doncaster 40 years ago the church was just over 40 years old. The older people used to talk with shining eyes about the days when Stephen Jeffreys held his mission in the hall in John Street in 1928. For me it was like being asked to peer through the swirling mists of antiquity. It all just seemed too far away.
But here I am 40 years on from there looking back over what seems a disturbingly short span of time. Now I have more in common with those older people who in 1969 regaled me with heart warming stories of the churches beginning.
There were great characters. Joe Lucas was an old war horse of a character but no one could doubt his commitment to the church. He had fought in the World War I and in the trenches made a deal with God. "If you get me through this all the rest of my life will be lived for you." He was wounded when a bullet passed right through his leg but it did not touch a bone. He came home from war virtually unscathed. He told we wistfully that his return from the war should have been joyous but his fiance died of meningitis just a few days before the war ended. He came home to personal loss. "We'd promised to wait for each other," he said, then added, "but death wouldn't wait." He was an Elder of the Church for many years and a commanding character.
W.J. Thomas, a friend and colleague of Stephen Jeffreys was the first Pastor. His son Luther told me that his Father baptised 300 people in one service. He borrowed Chequer Road Baptist for the occasion. The Baptist Minister was shocked at this mass baptism and said to W.J. "Man it's like a sheep dip!" "That's right," was the response. "We just dip the sheep not the goats!"
The sight of the Abbey reminded me that 40 years is such a little speck in the great scheme of things. I thought about the Synod of Whitby in 664 AD. The great controversy was about calculating the date of Easter. It was Celtic practice versus Roman practice. At the same time dear Saint Cuthbert, not too concerned about arguing dates was concentrating his remarkable energies on preaching the Gospel. He was shortly to become the Abbot of Lindisfarne. No one in our history did more to open up the North to the claims of the Gospel. He should be patron saint of England in my opinion. He didn't slay a mythical dragon but preached the Good News and planted churches. He was the 'Fire of the North' of whom Bede said, "Above all else he was afire with heavenly love."
The familiar ruins on the cliff top sharpened my historical perspective yesterday. 40 years or 1400 years we are workers together with all who have gone before on a great project. The "great scheme of things" in the final analysis is God's scheme. We have a little part to play in God's plan. Sabbatical thoughts for me are about being sure that I play my part fully in this God-filled adventure for the sake of those who have gone before and those who will follow after.
But here I am 40 years on from there looking back over what seems a disturbingly short span of time. Now I have more in common with those older people who in 1969 regaled me with heart warming stories of the churches beginning.
There were great characters. Joe Lucas was an old war horse of a character but no one could doubt his commitment to the church. He had fought in the World War I and in the trenches made a deal with God. "If you get me through this all the rest of my life will be lived for you." He was wounded when a bullet passed right through his leg but it did not touch a bone. He came home from war virtually unscathed. He told we wistfully that his return from the war should have been joyous but his fiance died of meningitis just a few days before the war ended. He came home to personal loss. "We'd promised to wait for each other," he said, then added, "but death wouldn't wait." He was an Elder of the Church for many years and a commanding character.
W.J. Thomas, a friend and colleague of Stephen Jeffreys was the first Pastor. His son Luther told me that his Father baptised 300 people in one service. He borrowed Chequer Road Baptist for the occasion. The Baptist Minister was shocked at this mass baptism and said to W.J. "Man it's like a sheep dip!" "That's right," was the response. "We just dip the sheep not the goats!"
The sight of the Abbey reminded me that 40 years is such a little speck in the great scheme of things. I thought about the Synod of Whitby in 664 AD. The great controversy was about calculating the date of Easter. It was Celtic practice versus Roman practice. At the same time dear Saint Cuthbert, not too concerned about arguing dates was concentrating his remarkable energies on preaching the Gospel. He was shortly to become the Abbot of Lindisfarne. No one in our history did more to open up the North to the claims of the Gospel. He should be patron saint of England in my opinion. He didn't slay a mythical dragon but preached the Good News and planted churches. He was the 'Fire of the North' of whom Bede said, "Above all else he was afire with heavenly love."
The familiar ruins on the cliff top sharpened my historical perspective yesterday. 40 years or 1400 years we are workers together with all who have gone before on a great project. The "great scheme of things" in the final analysis is God's scheme. We have a little part to play in God's plan. Sabbatical thoughts for me are about being sure that I play my part fully in this God-filled adventure for the sake of those who have gone before and those who will follow after.
Sunday, 16 August 2009
Doncaster re-visited.
40 years ago I arrived in Doncaster to begin my ministry. I was 22 years old, full of eager enthusiasm but worried about the size of the task. It was a big church and I was arriving as Assistant Pastor with a particular responsibility for young people. My boss was Tom Beckett who immediately gave me the job of preaching every Sunday evening. In those days that was the biggest service of the week. The congregation was about 350 and I was used to speaking to the youth group or to the sympathetic and homely congregation at Sleaford so this was a big challenge. Tom had lost ground in his preaching and his clarity and precision of thought had deteriorated through illness. He got himself into some self inflicted verbal skirmishes as on the occasion when he was preaching on spiritual poverty and said, "We've got nothing in the pantry," and then by way of explanation added, "I don't mean pantry on the shelf the goods thereon being not!"
I loved those days. I enjoyed every moment of my 4 years in Doncaster. Barbs and I got married there on a budget of £100. The women of the church provided our reception as a wedding gift. Catering was their skill and they did a fantastic job for us. We furnished our little flat with 2nd hand furniture and it was a homely, cosy little nest.
So here I am back again 40 years on. The church building no longer exists. It was torn down a few years ago and rightly so. It was a fine building but was disastrously cut off from the community by the cavilier road planning of Doncaster Council, (as was St. George's). Now they have a centre among the people in Netherhall Road and the Church now meets in the large sports hall of Doncaster College for the Deaf. It was so good to see about 350 people in that hall today. I didn't know too many people but there were some who I knew of the older generation. They are now called The International City Church. It was good to see such an ethnically mixed congregation. The welcome was great and the welcome pack included 2 sweets. This reminded me of Luther Thomas who Ernest Anderson referred to as "A very sweet man" because he always welcomed everyone to church with a hand full of sweets. They are carrying on a good tradition.
The preacher was Peter Rolls a very competent communicator. I thought he laboured the idea that "Jesus is fun" but he clearly had a strong appeal to his hearers. One of the people I knew well, with wide eyed wonder asked what I thought of the worship. She didn't wait for an answer but showed me a large pair of ear plugs! "Wearing these is the only way I can cope with the noise !" she said. The "wall of noise" worship style can leave older folks feeling left out of the loop! "Coming here is to expereience a great live gig!" was a comment from the leader. But is a great live gig really worship? For someone who has been a worshipper all her life to have to bring ear plugs to church militates against the concept.
Anyway it was good to back at the place of beginnings. It is now a different church for different times. It has pulled itself out of the doldrums of the nineties to become a thriving community. I'm glad to have had a walk on part in its history and to have known and been influenced by some of Doncaster's finest people.
I loved those days. I enjoyed every moment of my 4 years in Doncaster. Barbs and I got married there on a budget of £100. The women of the church provided our reception as a wedding gift. Catering was their skill and they did a fantastic job for us. We furnished our little flat with 2nd hand furniture and it was a homely, cosy little nest.
So here I am back again 40 years on. The church building no longer exists. It was torn down a few years ago and rightly so. It was a fine building but was disastrously cut off from the community by the cavilier road planning of Doncaster Council, (as was St. George's). Now they have a centre among the people in Netherhall Road and the Church now meets in the large sports hall of Doncaster College for the Deaf. It was so good to see about 350 people in that hall today. I didn't know too many people but there were some who I knew of the older generation. They are now called The International City Church. It was good to see such an ethnically mixed congregation. The welcome was great and the welcome pack included 2 sweets. This reminded me of Luther Thomas who Ernest Anderson referred to as "A very sweet man" because he always welcomed everyone to church with a hand full of sweets. They are carrying on a good tradition.
The preacher was Peter Rolls a very competent communicator. I thought he laboured the idea that "Jesus is fun" but he clearly had a strong appeal to his hearers. One of the people I knew well, with wide eyed wonder asked what I thought of the worship. She didn't wait for an answer but showed me a large pair of ear plugs! "Wearing these is the only way I can cope with the noise !" she said. The "wall of noise" worship style can leave older folks feeling left out of the loop! "Coming here is to expereience a great live gig!" was a comment from the leader. But is a great live gig really worship? For someone who has been a worshipper all her life to have to bring ear plugs to church militates against the concept.
Anyway it was good to back at the place of beginnings. It is now a different church for different times. It has pulled itself out of the doldrums of the nineties to become a thriving community. I'm glad to have had a walk on part in its history and to have known and been influenced by some of Doncaster's finest people.
Saturday, 15 August 2009
Mam Torr and beyond.
Yesterday was such a perfect day for walking. No mists hanging over the hills. All perfectly clear and glorious. Climbed up to Mam Torr from Castleton on to Win Hill, Lose Hill Pike, Hope and back along the river to Castleton again. One of the most perfect of walks any day but a great gift on a good day. "The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament proclaims his handiwork." (Psalm 19:1)
Gerard Hughes in his book "God of Surprises" suggests an exercise of meditative prayer that chimes with breathing. He suggests that as you breath out to picture yourself expelling something and as you breath in receiving something. For example; out - self, in - God; out - guilt, - in - grace; out - fear, in love; out - stress, in - peace. You get the picture. It is a pattern of prayer I often use whilst walking. Breathing and walking go together, quite consciously so whilst tackling the Peaks.
So for this Sabbatical journey my breathing prayers yesterday were, "Out weakness, in strength; out tiredness, in energy; out staleness, in freshness; out vagueness, in vision."
In other words this Sabbatical should enable me to return to my ministry with a new vigour and dynamism. After 40 years the next part of my ministry will be 'the finishing work.' I don't want to settle to retirement mode but for the final years to be fruitful years.
My good friend Roger,with whom I shared a room at Bible college 41 years ago is quickening rather than slackening his pace. Far from settling for leading his large and successful church on Long Island he is in the process of planting a 2nd church. I don't think he will stop at that. He's an inspiration. The final phase can be the most fruitful phase! When my church get their Rector back I hope they will notice a difference. If I don't return with renewed vision this will just have been a 3 month holiday and that is not the object of the exercise.
Gerard Hughes in his book "God of Surprises" suggests an exercise of meditative prayer that chimes with breathing. He suggests that as you breath out to picture yourself expelling something and as you breath in receiving something. For example; out - self, in - God; out - guilt, - in - grace; out - fear, in love; out - stress, in - peace. You get the picture. It is a pattern of prayer I often use whilst walking. Breathing and walking go together, quite consciously so whilst tackling the Peaks.
So for this Sabbatical journey my breathing prayers yesterday were, "Out weakness, in strength; out tiredness, in energy; out staleness, in freshness; out vagueness, in vision."
In other words this Sabbatical should enable me to return to my ministry with a new vigour and dynamism. After 40 years the next part of my ministry will be 'the finishing work.' I don't want to settle to retirement mode but for the final years to be fruitful years.
My good friend Roger,with whom I shared a room at Bible college 41 years ago is quickening rather than slackening his pace. Far from settling for leading his large and successful church on Long Island he is in the process of planting a 2nd church. I don't think he will stop at that. He's an inspiration. The final phase can be the most fruitful phase! When my church get their Rector back I hope they will notice a difference. If I don't return with renewed vision this will just have been a 3 month holiday and that is not the object of the exercise.
Wednesday, 12 August 2009
Today I went to Sleaford. It is a little bit of my history. I felt that part of this sabbatical pilgrimage thing should be to revisit the significant places of my journey over these 40 years of ministry and 62 years of living.
I am still questioning the value of this exercise yet I feel I should do it. Lines from Omar Kyam spring to mind; The moving finger writes and having writ moves on, Nor all thy piety or wit can lure it back to cancel half a line, Nor all thy tears wash out a word of it.
So what's the point of revisiting the past. Well, I guess it's about evaluation. Did I read the writing accurately? Did I respond to it appropriately? Was I moved by the moving finger? What else to be learned?
So Sleaford, from where I took off to Bible College. It's a slow paced and picturesque Lincolnshire town that was my home for a while. Today I visited my Mum's grave. It took me while to find it. It must be 7 years since I was there. She died at 55 and would have been 90 if she had lived. 35 years have gone but her spiritual legacy remains. She was a Christian activist. She was never caught off guard because she was never on guard in the first place! She was a person of strong faith, real prayer and with an irrepressible sense of humour.
I prayed in the beautiful 12th century Church of St. Denys in Sleaford market place. It was a day for thanksgiving, a good day.
I am still questioning the value of this exercise yet I feel I should do it. Lines from Omar Kyam spring to mind; The moving finger writes and having writ moves on, Nor all thy piety or wit can lure it back to cancel half a line, Nor all thy tears wash out a word of it.
So what's the point of revisiting the past. Well, I guess it's about evaluation. Did I read the writing accurately? Did I respond to it appropriately? Was I moved by the moving finger? What else to be learned?
So Sleaford, from where I took off to Bible College. It's a slow paced and picturesque Lincolnshire town that was my home for a while. Today I visited my Mum's grave. It took me while to find it. It must be 7 years since I was there. She died at 55 and would have been 90 if she had lived. 35 years have gone but her spiritual legacy remains. She was a Christian activist. She was never caught off guard because she was never on guard in the first place! She was a person of strong faith, real prayer and with an irrepressible sense of humour.
I prayed in the beautiful 12th century Church of St. Denys in Sleaford market place. It was a day for thanksgiving, a good day.
Tuesday, 11 August 2009
The Journey begins.
It will be 40 years ago this September since I began my Ministry. I remember driving to Doncaster in my little lime green Ford Anglia with some trepidation. It doesn't seem possible that 40 summers have slipped by since that beginning.
So here I am coming to terms with being on Sabbatical. I know it's only 3 months and that the Church will survive without me but will I survive without the Church!
People have been asking what I'm going to do. I'm going to do some long distance walking among other things. I'm doing this blog mainly for myself (actually, probably exclusively for myself.) It's a way of evaluating this spiritual journey.
So here I am coming to terms with being on Sabbatical. I know it's only 3 months and that the Church will survive without me but will I survive without the Church!
People have been asking what I'm going to do. I'm going to do some long distance walking among other things. I'm doing this blog mainly for myself (actually, probably exclusively for myself.) It's a way of evaluating this spiritual journey.
My new blog
Started my new blog today. Sarah helped me set it up and has been bossing me around as to what i should do. She's actually typing this for me....
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