John Stott: the legacy

HEARING of the death of John Stott yesterday gave me more than a mere moment of pause.  I never met him or heard him in person and yet I respected the person I met through his writing.  I have always been challenged by his discipline, humility and commitment.  So I felt a sudden sense of loss - not the troubled disquiet I experienced over the death of Amy Winehouse at only 27, but the kind of loss you experience when someone special to you announces they are leaving, for new things elsewhere.

(A memory floats by, of reading The Cross of Christ on the train to London.)

At 90, Stott leaves a legacy of deep and faithful thinking behind him.  I hope that the rest of us continue this legacy of thinking deeply about our faith, of taking the time to know God better,  making time for that which is important in our lives.

And so it was that I murmured a genuine prayer of gratitude for a man I have never met.

Not yet, anyway.


Click on the picture to be taken to the memorial site

knowing them by name

“MY OWN DESIRE to be useful, to do something significant, or to be part of some impressive project is so strong that soon my time is taken up by meetings, conferences, study groups, and workshops that prevent me from walking the streets. It is difficult not to have plans, not to organize people around an urgent cause, and not to feel that you are working directly for social progress. But I wonder more and more if the first thing shouldn’t be to know people by name, to eat and drink with them, to listen to their stories and tell your own, and to let them know with words, handshakes, and hugs that you do not simply like them, but truly love them.”

– Henri Nouwen

Used in welcome service


H/T Missional Church Network  (image included)

theology and discipleship

In a recent Baptist Times is an interview with Revd Dr Pat Took, recently inducted as President of the Baptist Union of Great Britain.

At one point she says:

"We need good, thoughtful and seasoned theology in our churches.  We also need loving discipleship.  We need that from ministers, who are the community pastors and theologians, and we need everyone to have access to such good theology and discipleship." 

Sometimes theology gets a bad press.  There's a wedge driven between the 'intellectual' and the 'experiential' as if were not all living, feeling and thinking beings - united, not fragmented. Sometimes you get the feeling that the 'ivory tower' stereotype is still out there.  But I think theology is vibrant, dynamic, and sustaining.  We have been given the capacity for deep thinking and deep feeling.  Both together = deep living.

Perhaps one day I should blog about my preoccupation with 'depth' - but the story behind it feels a mite too personal still.  Occasionally I share it as part of my testimony.  But that quote from Richard Foster at the bottom of this blog is no casually chosen thing.  This quest for depth has characterised my journey and indeed my blog will always be looking deeper.  That was its primary purpose.

But I digress, ever so slightly.

Theology and discipleship are co-partners, companions, each sustaining our lives and enriching them.

We need everyone to have access.  Yes.  We have all been given eyes and ears, minds and hearts that we should love the LORD our God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength.  Do we seek him with both mind and heart?  Do we seek understanding?  Wisdom?  To be a disciple and to make disciples?

Tuesday: Viewpoints

A poem a day...day two

Viewpoints

even the words
have different meanings.
we collide, perplexed,
thinking we agree
when we disagree
and vice versa

it's hard to tell our
stories, in understandable
ways, we have different
starting points and certainly
different endings
yet there are moments
of recognition

in the end,
we start from
the beginning, placing
pre-conceptions aside,
allowing space
for explanation,
treating each other
respectfully.

tenderly.

hopefully.

Day One: walk with me

Image: mine

in our landscape

When we were in Norfolk earlier this year, we went for a walk on Blakeney Point. It was there I was caught by a dandelion-coated landscape, like golden freckles on a gloomy day. It reminded me of the things that we consider a nuisance, or out of place, in our gardens (and our lives), but in the right setting have their own unique beauty.

We are all unique, with our own talents and abilities, positives and negatives, successes and shortcomings. Sometimes, we can feel out of place, where expectations of us do not tally with who we are, where our values seem alien, where we simply cannot really bloom. We start comparing ourselves with others, thinking if only we were the same size, shape, or personalities, if only we had their abilities, their confidence to do certain things, their beauty, their power. We feel limp and unsure. We feel like flowers in the wrong place.

But just because we do not match our current landscape does not mean we are not beautifully made. I always say that if God wanted you to be somebody else, he would have made you somebody else! Perhaps we don’t fit in the way we would like – or we feel at home in a different setting than the one paraded as perfect by our peers. But if we allow ourselves to be shaped in the way God wants, not the way other people think - or even we ourselves think – we can grow and glow, lighting up our corner of a difficult world.

sluggishness, and the education of public transport

Eech. Feeling incredibly sluggish today. Was hoping to be bright, energised and constructive. Uh huh. I have done some things I wanted to but in a very limited way. I had a massage this afternoon. I am just as crunchy, apparently, but have a little bit more movement. Well what with doing exercises 6 times a day I would hope there would be something!

I am planning to pop into town tomorrow morning to get some things sorted. If I catch the earliest bus after Rest Stop 1 I should have a good sized window. At least now there is another bus company running from the top of our road, three times an hour. Previously there was only one. That one is still running, so in fact there are now four. As long as you get a return journey with the same bus company, it's fine.

I really think in order to convince people to use public transport it's not about making car travel more difficult but making public transport a more viable alternative - no, a better alternative. There are some cities where this is the case. It is easier to go by bus than by car. The rates are good. You can get cheap citywide travel cards. Until the public transport systems become reliable, affordable and preferable it's no good railing at people not to use their cars. We choose the easiest way. We choose the way we know will get us there. It is how people see the world of transport, in practice - whatever their theoretical - probably more environmentally friendly - opinion is.

Not having the option of going by car, I go by bus. It certainly keeps you from getting 'inside my bubble' syndrome. The other week I was waiting at the bus stop. There was another man who asked me when the bus was coming. Then he explained he was visiting his mother. Then he proceeded to call his mother. Every now and then, he would spit in the hedge. A little old lady came and stood beside me. Another little old lady in a green coat hailed her from a distance.
'Always digging up the bloody roads, ain't they?' she said to me, motioning to the roadworks opposite, while I smiled and nodded at her. She then carried on to tell us how lovely the roads were in Canada. And that she was surprised that this bus stop was still operational. I felt silently grateful that it was. She continued in this vein, punctuated by the occasional 'pssft!' of the bloke spitting in the bushes.

Trains too, can be educational. I once unintentionally went to Brighton on Gay Pride weekend. A lad with pink hair called Tim befriended me at Westbury and insisted we sat together. He then showed me his purple feather boa and fish net stockings with great enthusiasm. His stilettos were too deep in his bag. He offered to get me a job working with Orange, if I wanted one. A guy from the Welsh valleys sat opposite (we were at a table). It was obvious he had never seen anyone like Tim before in his life. He wore a moody expression, didn't say much, and looked frankly baffled as Tim engaged him in conversation throughout the journey. There was a middle aged lady sitting across the aisle wearing so much jewellery she clanked and clattered as she moved. She, too, became very enthused in the conversation. I sat there for most of the journey simply watching the dynamics with some amusement.

You see, if I had gone in a car there is so much I would have missed. Some say it's not worth the hassle of taking public transport. I say the hassle is worth it. Who can beat the sense of camaraderie when the train is late?
Who do we have to say 'typical!' to and roll our eyes?

Perhaps, like Flora in Cold Comfort Farm, I am gathering 'experience' and will put it all in a novel one day. Whether I'm cut out to be a novelist, I really don't know.