It’s been a really busy Summer but I did manage to get 10 days in the sun on the island of Mallorca. My favourite thing when I’m holiday is to spend hours in the sea. I don’t so much swim as just sort of float about. But for me, this is actually a spiritual experience! I feel really close to God when I am far out at sea, distant from everyone else, allowing the waves to carry me where they will. As I am buoyed up by the salt water, rising and falling with the tide, I feel held. Yet at the same time I am totally free to go where I want and to explore the limits of the distant horizon, as well as of my own strength and tenacity.

As I reflected, I began to realise that all good and healthy relationships are like this. They hold us and affirm us as we are, while at the same time making the space for us to change, develop and try new things. I find this insight a real challenge.

One of the things that I have become aware of through my counselling is a debilitating fear of disconnection. When it gets triggered, I observe how I shut off from relationship before either I irreparably hurt those I care about or they reject me. It leads to depression. I work incredibly hard both to contain all potentially destructive emotions and simultaneously push everyone away. I go into the pit. It feels as though I am totally alone and have nothing worth living for. I imagine myself like Job sitting amongst the ruins of his life, scraping away at his sores. But I have done it to myself! I have isolated from everything I love and all that gives me meaning and purpose. Everything I feared has come upon me. Yet from the outside nothing whatsoever has changed!

So I am practicing staying connected even when I’m not in physical contact. I visualise my friends and remember what I enjoy about them when they come into my mind. I wonder what they’re doing and acknowledge to myself how much I miss them. I think of all the things I’m looking forward to sharing with them when I see them next. I’m also endeavouring to risk expressing negative emotions and trusting those I love to help me work through them rather than choosing to isolate for fear of rejection. It’s really hard and I make mistakes. But then it’s been 42 years relying on these destructive defence mechanisms so it’s going to take some time to create and reinforce new and better ones.

As God holds me through this process, I’m reminded She created us for relationship and exists to be in relationship. We love because God first loved us. So as I give myself to the sea, I give myself afresh to know Her love that I, in turn, might share what I have received. I will seek to model what it is to hold on to what is good, while allowing the freedom for each of us to become more authentically the unique creation we’ve been fashioned into. That is what spiritual experiences give us – fresh revelation of the divine, new insight into how much we’re loved and greater wisdom as to how to live well. Isn’t it wonderful that they can happen anywhere and at anytime? Even in the midst of the holiday season, when floating somewhere just off the coast of Mallorca!

When I was a little girl one of my favourite places was under the dining room table. It was covered with a large tartan blanket that reached almost to the floor. Under the table I hid and, with my toys, created an imaginary world. It was a place of sanctuary when I was either avoiding going to bed, had got into trouble or the adults were shouting at each other! Sometimes it felt like I could be forgotten about completely if I stayed still and quiet enough while out of sight. I often craved company in my self imposed isolation, yet everyone seemed so busy and preoccupied it felt safer to keep my head down and make my own entertainment. Times of positive attention seemed few and far between. But as I look back now, I must have appeared quite happy and self sufficient. No-one’s to blame that sometimes my needs went unmet.

I think maybe I still resort to this means of escape and defence. Having made myself very visible by being quoted in the press or giving a talk, for example, my immediate reaction is to hide from the criticism and hostility that I imagine I have created. I will literally take to my bed, keep the curtains drawn and not answer the phone. Yet it is the very time when I most need the love and reassurance of those who know me best. In my vulnerability I retreat under the table, try not to disturb anyone for fear of further wrath and condemnation and then despair of ever feeling worthy of the time and attention of others. I became so exasperated in one of my counselling sessions recently, I actually said, “I am sick of living off scraps!”

It reminded me of Jesus’s encounter with the Syrophenician woman recorded in Mark 7:24-30. She begged Jesus to heal her sick child but his reply seems harsh and baffling. He responds to her desperation with, “First let the children eat all they want for it is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to dogs.” Undeterred by his rebuff she replies, “Lord, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” Taken aback he says, “For such a reply, you may go; the demon has left your daughter.”

This exchange requires a bit of explanation. In this culture Jews and Greeks did not mix. It was forbidden both by custom and law. Jesus came specifically to reveal God’s saving plan to the Jews. They were his mission and focus. But this foreign woman’s clever and courageous retort moved him sufficiently to grant her request. For her crumbs were enough.

I then came across this in the book ‘…And we will become a happy ending’ by Joe Manafo, “For 3 years he healed with crumbs that fell from the table. Widow’s son’s, Centurion’s servant’s, demoniacs foaming at the mouth. And sometimes there were so many crumbs, they need a bunch of baskets to pick up the leftovers.” Maybe then, for me, crumbs are enough.

“Jesus came to heal: physical ailments, empty stomachs, emotional wounds and sick souls. Jesus still heals: physical ailments, empty stomachs, emotional wounds and sick souls. If you are hungry for healing, There are still crumbs from the table.” (p.104) For you too, crumbs can be enough.

Last weekend I was on a ‘first-time retreat’ at Ham Convent. It was a wonderful weekend. There was just the right amount of input from the sisters suggesting different ways to pray creatively, combined with hours of uninterrupted silence to explore the beautiful grounds in the presence of the divine. I slept a lot, went to some of the services in the chapel and received numerous grace-filled encouragements from my Creator.

One of the activities I always find helpful in hearing from God is to walk a Labyrinth. For the uninitiated this is following a circular path mapped out on the ground which, unlike a maze, has only one possible route. There are no dead ends and you are led to the middle and out again without missing any section out. However, you don’t start on the outside and systematically work your way to the centre. As you begin you find yourself part way in and then you are suddenly on the edge, before you are unexpectedly right at it’s heart!

Previously, I have always thought of a Labyrinth as like a brain. As I’ve walked and meditated before, I have imagined revisiting thoughts and memories stored in my mind and inviting God to revive or reframe them. However this time, I had an experience of the Labyrinth as lungs. It was as if I was being breathed into the heart of God to be refreshed with Her love and affirmed in my personhood, before being breathed out into the world to be a partner in Her mission of restoration and transformation. It had even more significance when I found out that Sunday was Pentecost. This is the day in the church calendar when we celebrate the Holy Spirit as God’s breath being poured out on a frightened band of women, fishermen and social outcasts to empower them for sharing the good news of Jesus’s life, death and resurrection.

I found this idea of being breathed in and out also echoed in Brueggemann’s interpretation of the Psalms that I read this week. He says in ‘Psalms of the Life of Faith’, “The Psalms reflect the difficult way in which the old worlds are relinquished and new worlds are embraced…The psalms of disorientation and reorientation are songs of scattering and gathering. The laments of Israel, like the hermeneutic of suspicion, are an act of dismantling and scattering, for sheep without a shepherd (Ez. 34:5, Mk. 6:34). The hymns and songs of thanksgiving in Israel, like the hermeneutic of symbolization are an act of reconciliation, of consolidation, or new formations of wholeness, when the shepherd is with the flock (Ps. 23:1, Jn. 10:10). As such, the Psalms are very much like our lives, which are seasons of scattering and gathering (Eccl. 3:2-9)…(they) reflect the human experience of exile and homecoming.” (p. 65-6)

However, as I engaged with the Labyrinth I also had a reassuring reminder that God’s presence is with us whether being gathered or scattered. A few weeks ago, a friend prayed I might have a new and personal vision of God as my strength and protection. A vivid picture of a large, solid and mature oak tree immediately came into my mind. As I journeyed at the outer limits of the Labyrinth, I complained to God of feeling abandoned, exposed, vulnerable when stepping out and pioneering with spiritual seekers. The tears flowed as I expressed my sense of isolation in the risk taking and the pain of being misunderstood. Yet through my tears I began to become aware that oak trees actually encircled the Labyrinth! It was a physical reminder that either in the safety and comfort of home or alone at the margins – God is with us. Before leaving his friends and ascending into heaven, John records that Jesus said, “‘As the father has sent me, I am sending you.’ And with that he breathed on them and said, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.’” (Jn. 20:22) I pray that, like me, this Pentecost you might sense Jesus doing the same for you.

If I ever make it on desert island discs the one question I already know my answer to is the book I would choose. I first read Jane Eyre when I was 11 and auditioning for the part of Adele in a local, amateur dramatic production. I love it and clearly I am not alone! There seems to be an almost annual reworking of this classic for either the small or big screen and decent audiences are practically guaranteed.

It has got me thinking about what makes some tales worth re-telling over and over again. In the case of Jane Eyre it is a gripping yarn that‘s utterly compelling on first read. Yet I don’t believe that in itself ensures such enduring prominence and affection. The characters are fascinating due to the intrigue in their backstories. They are richly drawn by an author who elicits our loyalty for these complex personalities which encompass light and shade, honour and shame. However, I think it is the universality of the themes that really mark this work of literature out as a genuine classic. Obviously it is a love story. But then there are plenty of those that have long since been eclipsed by racier offerings! Essentially, I see it as a tale about the search for identity and how true personhood finds fulfillment in equal, honest and mutually affirming relationships.

I have always wondered what would be revealed about the changing nature of a society’s values and concerns by comparing and contrasting different productions of the same classic text over time. For example, in the most contemporary versions of Jane Eyre you do not see the same emphasis given to the idea of redemption from wrong-doing by surviving fire that is strongly evident in the original and there are a lot more overt physical expressions of love than Charlotte Bronte ever included! This is where the culture is reinterpreting the narrative to enforce prevailing attitudes about what is important and behaviours that are socially acceptable and appropriate. The process is essential if a book set in a very definite historical context is still able to articulate something meaningful about what it is to be human in the 21st century.

So what about another great, epic story of love, salvation and self discovery from long ago – that contained in the Bible? How can it be creatively reframed so once again it speaks afresh down the ages about the value and purpose of humanity? If it could be retold imaginatively and provocatively what new insights might be discovered that address the culture’s present preoccupations? What can we learn from such popular and attractive presentations of historic fables to make the story that we are actually a part of live again and inform our contemporary experience of life, love and relationship? Or perhaps our sacred text is just too precious and we cannot afford to mess with it! Yet didn’t Jesus in Luke 4:18-21, for example, take the classic lines from Isaiah and radically reinterpret them for his time by applying them to himself?

My fear is if we don’t take some risks and subversively re-engage with communicating the message of hope we enflesh for popular consumption as a matter of urgency, it might fade so far from the public consciousness it will be consigned to literary obscurity once and for all. What a tragedy if the Jane Eyre remakes continue unabated but the greatest story ever told sinks without trace! It requires us to know the culture, while being continually remade by the narrative that defines us. As we make room for greater artistic expression and experimentation we might just hit upon the parallel contemporary parables that will attract people to the Light, interest them in the Word and unite them with the Source of everything. It has been the challenge for every generation and now it’s over to us to find the innovative routes for the Gospel that will positively impact our contemporary existence.

This week I finished the worship module on the pioneer mission leadership training course. We ended by thinking about communion. It is a ritual I have always found incredibly meaningful with the power to sustain and comfort beyond the mere outward signs of bread and wine. As we celebrate Easter, it becomes a yet more potent symbol of Christ’s love and sacrificial death. However, how do we make this ancient practice that Jesus commanded us to do “in remembrance of Him”, relevant in a largely secular and post-modern society?  

In the Anglican tradition, worship reaches a crescendo with communion and before it is administered there is a Eucharistic prayer that seeks to encapsulate the purpose and significance of this rite. I therefore decided to have a go at writing my own, in an attempt to apply some of my reading. This included discussions about how far Christians should reflect the surrounding culture so that it is appropriate and meaningful, while holding in tension the need to critique society’s values when they are at odds with the message and methods of Christ. Alan and Eleanor Kreider in their book ‘Worship and Mission after Christendom’, refer to this as the indigenizing and pilgrim principles (p.76). In response to this, I began to think about what it means to share a meal when our houses are no longer built with the space for a dining table and each member of the household eats when it suits them from a tray on their lap in front of the TV.  

I have also been reading a lot about shame.  (I know, I am really fun to hang out with!) Alan Mann in his book ‘Atonement for a Sinless Society’ sees communion as a wonderful opportunity to bring our personal stories in dialogue with the gospel story. It is here we can find the hope of reconciliation within ourselves as well as with one another in community and the ultimate ‘Other’ who is God. However, Steve Pattison in ‘Shame: Theory, Therapy, Theology’ reminds us that much of the liturgy and practice of the church actually re-enforces shame and that it has been used as an effective means of control by religious hierarchies. So how might I compose a prayer that expresses the liberation from shame that Christ won for us and avoid words that compound our sense of unworthiness to know love and belonging?

Well here is my attempt! And before you throw your hands up in horror, I realise that it probably breaks canon law and the liturgical police might come knocking. That said, it is my creative attempt to ground some of my thinking. I believe that if our faith is to be real and alive with new possibilities we have to wrestle with theology. Mission is, in my opinion, the best motivation for just this kind of experimentation and risk taking. If we don’t work harder and smarter at communicating the salvation story of Jesus for our own time and context the statistics show there will be no church in the UK in a hundred years time. So what treasures in your tradition could you re-frame and re-imagine to enable those outside your church to encounter Christ in a way that makes sense while remaining true to the basic tenets of the faith? It’s a challenge. But the rewards are worth all our soul-searching, mistake-making and frustration as it is in this process we are changed and re-engaged with God in surprising and exciting ways. 

Screen Eucharist

The Lord is here

Our TV dinner is served

Lift up your hearts

Shielded to hide the wounds and scars

Let us give thanks to the Lord our God

Because you have sufficiently engaged our interest for the time being

We sit before you, side by side, isolated and distant.

Hoping to be distracted, entertained, transported to an alternative existence.

We eat without tasting, we gather without noticing, locked in a conversation that takes place between our ears.

Yet the God-man Jesus invites us to dine with Him tonight.

A table has been laid and He waits for us to take our place beside Him.

A banquet has been prepared and our favourite dishes are set before us.

He wants to know us.  He is curious about our thoughts, preferences and dreams.  

For through Him all experience of life, love and the created world was made possible.  

We are a reflection of His goodness and embodied potential for newness.  

We are so grateful that because He practised what He preached to the point of dying to maintain His authenticity, we don’t have to live up to the expectations of our ideal self.  

We can be free to reveal who we really are and find that we are worthy to be loved by God and those with whom we long to be in relationship.

Even death on a cross could not stop Him fulfilling his purpose and He rose to a new life.  

We thank you that this means, we too can look forward to our pain and loss being transformed into faith and hope if we choose to trust Him in vulnerability.  

Jesus returned to Heaven so He could advocate on our behalf but He sent us a helper, the Holy Spirit, who gives us divinely inspired visions and insights to encourage and direct us.

Because of all that has been done for us in Jesus Christ, we can join with angels and all those who have gone before, praising God and saying:

Holy, holy, holy Lord

God of provision and presence

heaven and earth are full of your glory

Hosanna in the highest

Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.

Hosanna in the the highest.

May we live an integrated life where we are at one with ourselves and actively looking to make the most of every opportunity to partner with you in bringing peace, healing and justice to the spheres where we have influence, as Christ demonstrated for us.

Who in the same night that he was betrayed with a kiss,

took bread, gave thanks, broke it and shared it amongst his friends, saying,

“Take, eat; this is my body which is given for you;

do this in remembrance of me.”

In the same way, after supper he took a cup and gave you thanks:

he gave it to them, saying,

“Drink this, all of you;

this is my blood which marks a new relationship between humanity and the divine, 

it removes all fears, regrets and hurts you have inflicted on yourselves and others, that has kept us from one another.

Do this, as often as you drink it,

in remembrance of me.

Christ has died

Christ is risen

Christ will come again

So as we remember the freedom and healing Christ offers us, we look forward to a day when He will return and restore all creation to beauty and wholeness.

Until then turn us from the impassive screen to see your reflected glory in the eyes of those we keep at arms length.

Help us risk intimacy and build community such that the value of relationship is displayed and we show how dreams of a better and fairer world become reality when we live and work together in unity, diversity and mutuality.

We invite your Holy Spirit so this bread might become your body which sustains us and the wine your blood that reconciles us.

Empower and motivate us with your love.

Give us the strength to bear our suffering and disappointment.  

Keep us discontent with living vicariously through the shallow and distorted image of ‘the good life’ as portrayed by celebrities.  

And we look forward to coming home, where we are safe and loved, honest and fulfilled. 

For it is only through our loving Creator, redeeming Son and enabling Spirit we can be assured that one day our longing will cease and all we have desired and glimpsed will be known in full.

Amen

If you don’t want to know what happens, stop reading now. I don’t want to spoil it for you! The story centres around, Jean Valjean, who at the beginning of the film is knee deep in sea water, chained to a line of fellow prisoners, pulling a ship into harbour under the watchful eye of his gaoler, Javert, played by Russell Crowe. It is clear that the 19 years of incarceration have taken their toll. He is well acquainted with suffering and embittered by justice that sought to degrade and dehumanise as punishment for stealing bread to feed a sick child. The terms of his release make work impossible so once freed he quickly becomes destitute. He takes shelter in the doorway of a church and unexpectedly the priest welcomes him in.  Treating him as an honoured guest, he is given a lavish banquet and provided with a room in which there is a wardrobe full of silver artefacts. The temptation is too great. Jean fills his sack with the loot and flees. The police find him, drag him back to the scene of the crime but the priest says he has gifted him the treasure and offers the silver candlesticks as well! With no reason to re-imprison him, Jean is freed. This demonstration of forgiveness and unconditional love causes him to let go of hate and adopt a new identity so he can show compassion and justice to others.

Jean stays true to his vow, becomes a fair employer and mayor of the town. But Javert, now police chief, becomes suspicious as to his real identity. An inquiry into the allegation distracts Jean and leads to a woman in his employ being unjustly dismissed. She is ill-used and forced into prostitution to provide for her daughter.  Jean finds her but it is too late. On her deathbed he promises to care for the child as his own.  Although on the run from Javert and in constant fear of being exposed, Jean rescues the little girl, Cosette, and becomes her father. The adult Cosette falls in love with a young revolutionary, Marius, and Jean saves him from certain death at the ruthless suppression of an uprising.  During the skirmish Jean comes face to face with his nemesis, Javert, and has the opportunity to kill him and end the years of running. However, Jean shows him the forgiveness and unconditional love that he received and lets him go. Javert cannot stand this. He has always believed that sin must be punished and by upholding the rule of law he was doing God’s will. Confronted with grace, his beliefs are shattered and he can no longer live. Meanwhile, Marius recovers and marries Cosette. Jean cannot bear them knowing the truth of his identity and dying, seeks sanctuary in the convent. Marius discovers that it was he who rescued him from the massacre at the barricade. They find Jean and declare their love and gratitude for the man he really is. He dies at peace with himself, with God and those whom he loves.

So what does all that have to do with shame? In the excellent book ‘Atonement for a ‘sinless’ Society’, the author Alan Mann describes shame as the gap between our real selves and the self we construct to present to the world. In the same way Jean had to hide who he really was and create a socially acceptable identity in order to exist in safety, many of us live in fear of having our real selves exposed to scrutiny. We struggle less with guilt at having done something wrong than the shame of feeling we are unworthy of love and the fear that if we are known in reality we will be rejected and spurned.  

Christianity has so often been understood in terms espoused by Javert, that the law should not be transgressed and wrong-doing must be punished. It is only Christ’s death that satisfies the need for punishment so we can be free. Yet, I believe, faith in Jesus addresses our shame as completely as our guilt.  “Shame does not respond to punishment; rather, it is love that banishes shame,” says the missionary Norman Kraus in ‘Recovering the Scandal of the Cross’ by Green and Baker. Like the priest in this story, God does not disclose our offences but offers forgiveness and the hope of a fresh start. There is no need to hide who we really are because the divine sees and loves the beauty of our uniqueness. In the same way that Jean is reconciled and his true personhood is brought together with the construct by love, so Christ’s willingness to die a shameful death for our sake demonstrates both His love and the potential for harmony between the ideal He preached and the embodied reality. It is by experiencing grace in the midst of shame that we can find reconciliation within ourselves, restoring identity, discovering purpose and recovering the potential for meaningful relationships.

Have you ever been channel hopping when there is nothing else worth watching only to stumble upon a fascinating story that speaks into an issue you are thinking about?  Well I had just this experience on Saturday.  I flicked over to BBC2 and became engrossed in a programme about the 1974 Lions tour of South Africa!  

The Lions are a team made up of the best rugby players in England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales. For a handful of sportsmen it is a once in a lifetime opportunity to travel and compete against the best rugby playing nations in the world.  However, in 1974, there was a ban on touring South Africa because all civilised countries were demonstrating their outrage at the policy of apartheid.  Despite political pressure not to go, this controversial tour went ahead with unexpected consequences.  The British Lions smashed the Springbok on the rugby field not once, but twice.  And while the white South Africans watching in the stands were silenced by the humiliating defeats of their national team, the penned in black South Africans went wild with delight!  At last, the lie of Afrikaan supremacy was exposed and it became clear that international isolation meant a white only South African team could no longer compete on a world stage.  Although they should not have gone, the Lions had inadvertently empowered the impoverished ethnically diverse majority and undermined the legitimacy of their oppression.  There was still a long way to go, but apartheid had been irrevocably tarnished in the eyes of those who were essential for its on-going survival.

This story is a parable about how it is contingent on the powerful to use the privileges of their birth to make possible the liberation of the oppressed.  It perfectly illustrated what I had been reflecting on in my own life.  As a woman called to leadership in the church, I have reluctantly to admit I have needed men in positions of authority to lay down their own power and make space for me to reveal the unique gift I offer.  So while it is still good for women to join together to seek to overthrow the injustice of gender discrimination, I believe it will only be achieved as men relinquish their own need to be in control and encourage women to take their place beside them in equality and partnership. Jesus models this in his encounter with the woman pronounced unclean because of her years of bleeding (Luke 8:43-48).  The Grove booklet simply entitled ‘Shame’ by John Watson says this, “Jesus not only heals the condition of the woman, but…publicly accepts her and ministers to her shame…, in doing that (he), attacks the structures that were in existence.  This ‘parabolic healing’ and others like it function to unmask the powerful structures of the day.  Jesus did this in many encounters with the poor, the diseased and the ‘sinners’. (p.21)”

While in the context of gender, I might still in some instances be reliant upon others to forgo their power to allow me to shine, there are plenty of other situations when I am the one with the odds unfairly stacked in my favour.  For those who are poor, marginalised and afflicted it is my turn to let go of privileges of status, wealth and education to make room for their voice to be heard and have an impact.  And, like the Lions tour of South Africa in 1974, it is humbling to remember it could actually be in appearing to collude with the unjustly powerful that I unwittingly unmask folly and wrong-doing to fatally discredit an immoral regime in the opinion of those who maintain it.  God moves in mysterious ways and sometimes the things that threaten to undermine His purposes can actually become the very agents of His justice and retribution.

Last Friday I travelled to Leeds with students on the pioneer mission leadership training course for a ReSource weekend.  There are 4 of these a year and they give Christians from every background the opportunity to hear stories of mission and experience fresh expressions of church that are being created in various locations around the UK.  Friday night we heard the story of Revive and how this faith community are using a Grade 2 listed, disused church building, that was in a serious state of disrepair, to provide an arts venue called Left Bank.  They have restored the outer shell and now have plans to install under floor heating and a permanent labyrinth.  This week they had their first meeting to plan and begin galvanising support for an ambitious project at the end of the year, a production of ‘The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe’.  Despite the snow, they had an impressive turnout of 100 local people that included actors, artists and musicians.  While we were happily warm and comfortable in Simon Hall’s front room, we were blissfully unaware of the blizzard that had been raging outside!  When we left to find our accommodation for the night, we had a hairy journey as vehicles slipped and slided on the roads.  Eventually we had to abandon the car and trudge up the hill through the snow- storm to get to our final destination!  

On Saturday morning we visited Left Bank and then Andrew Grinnell gave us an overview of Leeds by mapping the extremes of wealth and deprivation that co-exist there.  It put where we were and what we would see in its geographical context.  Next we heard from Mike who was working to encourage and equip individuals who had a vision to transform their locality from the grassroots.  He combined this with exerting influence on those in positions of power at the City Council and within the business community to affect change at a strategic level.  We then travelled with Andrew to East End Park which is an estate where he lives and seeks to build Christian community with his family and a couple of friends who relocated with him from the affluent suburb of Raynes Park in South West London nearly 7 years ago.  Here we saw firsthand the devastating effects of poverty and the positive difference Andrew’s patient and relational approach to mission is having in slowly restoring hope and social cohesion.  

In the evening we went into the City Centre and visited the recently renamed Leeds Minster where Sue Wallace puts on a worship experience called ‘Transcendence’.  This combines the ancient, as reflected in the historic fabric of the building, with modern LED lighting and multi-media presentations.  The Minster provides a very different opportunity for mission but requires the same need to recognise the connection points and the imagination to make the gospel accessible and meaningful for those beyond the reach of conventional church.  On Sunday morning we had a chance to reflect on our own, and then in groups, on what we had encountered over the weekend and how that could be applied and adapted to our own local contexts.  

As usual ReSource Leeds was a wonderful mix of food, fellowship and interesting stories.  But it also has the power to generate a spark of Holy Spirit inspired life and energy that can give birth to exciting new ventures where Christ is revealed afresh.  The next one will be in Birmingham on 12-14 April 2013 where the focus will be on mission in a multi-faith environment.  If you would like to know more visit http://pioneer.cms-uk.org/resource/weekend-details.  I hope to see you there!

I remember a few years into a church leadership role completing a gift audit and being astonished to find that my highest score was for worship leading!  I wasn’t male and I couldn’t play a guitar.  Both seemed to be a prerequisite for this position in the kind of churches I have frequented over the past 20 years.  However, worship is essential to my discipleship and experience of God.  It is something I feel really strongly about.

Growing up saying the same Anglican communion liturgy every week, I became increasingly bored by it. I saw the array of books in the pew as a stumbling block for those who dared venture into church and the need to be quiet, stand up and sit down in the right places similarly off-putting, providing plenty of opportunities for the visitor to feel uncomfortable and unwelcome.  When I first went to a charismatic, evangelical church I loved the freedom and spontaneity of extemporary prayer.  Everyone was equal and could express what they wanted to say to the Almighty.  The downside was that people didn’t know when to stop and actually there are only so many ways to say ‘thank you’ and ‘I love you God’!  But as well as developing a new appreciation for the beauty and poetry of the carefully chosen words in the Alternative Service Book, as it was then, I also missed the sense of progression afforded by the pattern of worship prescribed for us.

Worship is like a story with a beginning, a middle and an end.  Or maybe it is a reflection of the temple God instructed the Israelites to build.  We experience each of the courts in turn, before being ready to cope with the intensity of the Holy of Holies.  The wonderful thing about a service of holy communion is that there is a build up to the climax of the ritual which Jesus commanded us to do.  Everything is leading us and preparing us for that moment when we are physically and graphically reminded of what Christ did for us and how that self-emptying sacrifice informs everything we are in community together.  It is what will sustain and strengthen us through the week ahead and give our lives the meaning and purpose to persevere when we are faced with temptation or doubt.  Unfortunately, in my experience, worship can be like sex without foreplay!  Wham bam we are expected to be in an ecstasy of praise in the presence of God no matter what state we are in and what the issues we are confronting.  I am not an automaton and I do not want to deny or detach from my feelings when I come before God.  Worship for me is bringing all of who I am and what I am and seeing that in relation to my Maker and my Redeemer so that I can recognise myself again.  It puts everything back in proper perspective.

I think being a mature Christian is so much about holding things in tension.  With regard to worship, the tension is between rightly expressing our awe at the power and majesty of God and yet being overwhelmed with gratitude at the intimacy of His love and tender mercy as personified in Christ.  The beginning of wisdom is fear of the Lord (Proverbs 14:16) and at the same time Jesus calls us friends (John 15:14).  Both are true.  Rather than dismissing them as a contradiction, they are like weights at either end of a continuum which keep us from extremism.  I have often been called ‘contrary’.  But I think I just have an instinctive desire for a healthy balance between opposing poles of thought and belief.  I can’t help it – too happy, clappy and I want some depth and reality, dull and formulaic and I am in desperate need of some joy and exuberance!   So next time you hear ‘but on the other hand…’ don’t just assume someone is deliberately being difficult.  Receive it as an invitation to reassess whether you’re focusing too heavily on one aspect to the detriment of the equilibrium God is constantly challenging us to.