“Your lack of faith is useless…”

From “The Question Is Complete” by Aereogramme.

It’s that time of year again…the papers and television shows chronicle the highlights and lowlights of the year fading out.  We look back before looking forward.

How would you sum up 2009?  What words or pictures would you use?  What were the defining moments?  Could you make sense of them at the time?

Mine is here.  It’s a post I wrote on this blog back in April.  It all seems so much clearer now as another year ends.  The third interpretation in the blog post seems to ring true.  As 2009 ebbs away I have laid down worship leading and small group leading.  Family life will change in 2010 as we eagerly await a new arrival in May.  Work brings new responsibilities and new contacts – even with surveyors who share my love of surfing!

The lure of the sea with all its symbolism pans large on my horizon and I’ve been spending much less time on my blog and much more getting this off the ground.

Here’s to the New Year!

“And I will raise my hand up
Into the night time sky.
And count the stars
That’s shining in your eye.
Just to dig it all an’ not to wonder why.
That’s just fine.
And I’ll be satisfied
Not to read in between the lines.
And I will walk and talk
In gardens all wet with rain
And I will never, ever, ever, ever
Grow so old again”.

From “Sweet Thing” by Van Morrison.

Is it just me, or does the pace of life step up a gear every December?  A constantly growing “to-do” list of presents to buy, places to be, people to see…all before we collapse into an exhausted heap come the holidays or the period when we get our space back to ourselves.

I seem to be juggling a bunch of things at the moment.  For the most part they are good things – things I am glad to be a part of.  I am looking forward to laying some of them down in coming weeks though…

Karl has talked a lot about the speed at which God moves.  Is it faster than the speed of light or sound?  Yes.  Is it slower than we often want?  Yes.  Is it at the speed of life?  Yes.  Is it at the speed of love?  Yes.  What is that?

Last night on my way from the office to another appointment I blew a puncture on my bike.  It forced me to stop – to think – to walk and talk with God.  When I looked beyond the Christmas lights, I noticed that the sky was clear and the moon and stars were bright.  The air was cold and sharp (0.5 degrees) and it was strangely refreshing and invigorating.  I dropped my agenda and was in a much better head-space when I arrived at my next destination.

Sometimes we just need to slow down.  Maybe the speed of love is 3 miles per hour.. That is the speed we walk at.

My next stop was to inhabit a, somewhat, secret place and just to be still.  To think, to reflect and to pray.  The two of us who met had a really useful bit of time out as we turned our eyes away from ourselves and towards others for whom we are grateful and to whom we would love to be good news.

“I once was lost but now I’m found, was blind
But now I see.
How selfish of you to believe in the meaning of all the bad dreaming

Metal heart, you’re not hiding
Metal heart, you’re not worth a thing”.

From “Metal Heart” by Cat Power.

Cinema seems to have witnessed a resurgence of 3-D films over the past year.  Something that I thought had been ditched in the 1980’s seems to be being re-explored as a means of pulling us further into the stories that unfold before our eyes.  Is this a fad aimed at children or will we see cinema forever altered by revisiting ideas from an earlier age?

3-D cinema is designed to bring depth.  Everything literally takes on a whole new dimension.  We may feel self conscious or look silly with those 3-D glasses on, but when we are with a group of people with a similar focus our awkwardness seems irrelevant and our resistance dissipates instantly.

How often do I walk through life, caught up in my own little world, missing a whole other realm?

How often does my desire to fit in prevent me from seeing things as they really are?

“¹² Now we see things imperfectly as in a cloudy mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity.^[a] All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely”. (1Cor 13:12 – NLT).

It has been a priviledge in recent weeks to be assisting in leading my first Alpha Course.  It has been interesting to discover what the tenets of our faith are seen to be.  It has been inspiring to see the giftings and genuine love of HIWWC as she leads the sessions.  It has been refreshing to hear peoples’ ideas and experiences and to have a place where those are validated and listened to rather than the leaders doing most of the talking.  It has been a joy to see people begin to “get it” or nudge a bit closer with no-one ramming an agenda, but, rather, simply, holding out an offer. 

I have loved to hear questions asked, clarity gained and to catch even glimpses of lives taking on a whole new dimension and people gaining a different perspective and, perhaps, in time, a fresh world-view…

“After thirty years I’ve become my fears.
I’ve become the kind of man I’ve always hated.
I am pulled apart, and my swollen heart
Has flipped out of the pan into the fire.
I am in love insane with a sense of shame
that I threw stones at the condemned and now I’m slated.

And I don’t believe you’re all I’ll ever need.
And I need to feel that you’re not holding me.
But the way I feel just makes me want to scream.
Come home, Come home, Come home
Come home, Come home, Come home
Come home, Come home, Come home”.

From “Come Home” by James.

I tend to write a lot about journeying through life.  We are a disparate generation and so nomadic at times.  Many of us have moved around as we grew up.  Many of us left home to study and had our first real sense of freedom.  We have nostalgic feelings for those times and places and, even then, many of us only spent term time in those cities.  We moved on to wherever the job opportunities were and often we relocate due to employment.  We rarely return to where our family trees were rooted and we wonder why we find it hard to belong?

Sometimes there comes a point to put our roots down.  To soak things up and get the nutrients we need to really contribute to life.

Or as Karl said on Sunday, “If you’ve got the fruit, you’ve got the root”.

The one story that has stuck with me more than any other this year has been that of the Prodigal Son.  It’s one of the most famous stories in the Bible.  Yet, on several occasions and in several places I have been reminded not so much of the Prodigal, but of the tale of the older brother.  Maybe it’s because I am an older brother, but something has resonated and struck a chord with me.

Maybe like the older brother I have spent my time staying close to the Father’s house and busying myself with the Father’s business.  Those may not necessarily be bad things, but the older brother neglected his role of being a mediator – of going and looking for, redeeming and saving that which was lost.  He failed to bring his sibling back from the far land.

I don’t know if the far land is metaphorical, spiritual or geographical.  Maybe it’s a combination of those attributes?  Maybe my focus, whilst well intentioned, hasn’t always been where it should be?  Who is my brother?

Whilst at the Tubestation in Cornwall the other week I came across a great photo of a typical sign outside a church.  The words, however, were atypical:

“When the Father’s house is filled with the Father’s love the prodigals will come home”.

“Where’s your head at?
(Where your head at? Where your head at? at? at? at? at? at? at?)
Where’s your head at?
(Where your head at? Where your head at? at? at? at?)”

From “Where’s Your Head At?” by Basement Jaxx.

Sometimes my head just feels full.  My mind feels like it’s working overtime – trying to prioritise my to-do list at work, trying to figure out how to resource that and deliver timeously, trying to suss out how to juggle the demands of work and family life, day-dreaming of how life will look next May when our second child arrives, trying to keep patient when things aren’t going as I plan, longing for a little oasis in the day or an alcove I can retreat into, wondering how life really is with some of my close friends behind the smiles and the surface conversation, trying to discern whether half the ideas in my head are all of my own creating or whether they are inspired by something altogether bigger…

Sometimes I just need to stop. 

To download.

Then at other times I wonder if this process just makes space for me to come with a blank sheet.  Not to ask God to bless my plans, but to ask Him to reveal His.

But, if He knows every word before it is on my lips, does He also know the words I scribble down too?  Are the words some form of ghost writing?  Could they be Holy Ghost writing?

“There was a time said the traveller as he looked back,

looked back from whence he came.

There was a time said the traveller as he set out.

Set forward once again.

But in the distance came a whisper,

A voice that thrilled his soul.

“Don’t you look back you weary traveller,

for tomorrow, tomorrow, you will be whole”.

Rose coloured past why do you bait me?

Beckoning, calling my name, oh, still small voice of calm”.

From “There Was A Time” by Eden Burning.

Sometimes someone comes into our lives who will forever change things.  Someone we will always think of fondly and with gladness of heart.

In April 1992 we met a band called Eden Burning at Spring Harvest.  We developed friendships and after getting a chance to do the support slot at one of their gigs in Aberdeen, the band I was playing in – Missing Jane – were invited as support band on about half of their “Vinegar & Brown Paper” tour later that year. 

I have such great memories of those days and nights.  Living the life we loved and dreamed of.  Losing ourselves in music and trying to connect with the audience with lyrics which spoke of the worldview and ideas that Eden Burning and Missing Jane traded and shared.

14 years since we saw any of Eden Burning, it was a joy to spend an hour or two with Paul Northup and his family a couple of weekends ago.  Our clans filled his home and we shared tales of what the intervening years had brought into our respective lives and reminisced of days gone by.

I was strangely warmed to observe how life has panned out - to internalise with thankfulness that we have all grown into people I think the younger versions of ourselves would have taken pleasure in.  A quick glance of the bookshelves and art work coupled with discussions of faith, creativity, social justice and Howies clothing told its own tale. 

Those were moments of grace, just to sip mugs of tea and watch the kids playing together.  Oh for many more days and hours like those…

“These things you keep
You’d better throw them away.
You wanna turn your back
On your soulless days.
Once you were tethered
And now you are free.
Once you were tethered.
Well, now you are free.
That was the river.
This is the sea!”

From “This Is The Sea” by The Waterboys.

I’ve written about the concept of “missional expressions” on my blog before. 

It is the direction our church community is moving in.  Groups of folks clustered around a post-code, people group or shared interest and trying  naturally to be distinct – to bring flavour, to preserve that which is good, to shine a little light in the darkness.  To be outward looking rather than insular.

The leadership asked us to float ideas and the first eleven or so are about to be rolled out and tested between now and February.  So here’s what I’m looking at being a catalyst for:

“Soul Surfers –  An opportunity for Christians who surf (or who would like to learn how to) to arrange to do so together.  We will look outwards, intentionally building natural friendships in the surf community and inviting non-Christian friends to join us. We will encourage and support each other, “doing life together”.  We’ll spend time getting to know each other, including our non-churched friends, to live our lives as open books and to build familiarity with those we come in contact with”.

Want to join me in sussing out if there is any mileage in this? 

“You may be a preacher with your spiritual pride.
You may be a city councilman taking bribes on the side.
You may be working in a barbershop, you may know how to cut hair.
You may be somebody’s mistress, may be somebody’s heir.

But you’re gonna have to serve somebody, yes
You’re gonna have to serve somebody.
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you’re gonna have to serve somebody”.

From “Gotta Serve Somebody” by Bob Dylan.

My bro’, Keith, used this video clip recently.  It’s old-skool, but it’s so true.

“And I came to believe in a power much higher than I.
I came to believe that I needed help to get by.
In childlike faith I gave in and gave Him a try.
And I came to believe in a power much higher than I”.

From “I Came To Believe” by Johnny Cash.

I’ve been musing upon why I find it hard to share my faith.  What is my story when I distill it down beyond places and people and specific periods of time?

I think it actually involves realising that just like most people I wanted to believe that my life counted.  I wanted to harness my potential.  I wanted to believe that I could change things and make a difference.  I wanted to believe that there was more to life than getting a decent job, a nice car, a house in the right postcode and 2.4 children.  I wanted to believe that I didn’t have to conform to some conveyor belt mentality or appearance.  I wanted to think for myself.

That said, life seemed really big.  I was daunted by it.  I was fearful of the consequences of my decisions and the ramifications they might have on how life unfolded.  I lacked confidence and I worried about these things.

I met Christians who seemed to have something in their lives that I didn’t.  It was authentic and attractive.  It permeated every part of their everyday lives.  It was something I wanted more of in my own life.  As I watched and observed them, I found myself spending more time with them and reading the Bible and trying to grapple with what I believed it really had to say.  I committed myself to Christ and His teachings.

It’s not that life is always easy now or that I always make the right decisions, but I do feel anchored.  I have deep peace amidst the storms of life and all of the constant juggling.  I find a purpose in the big and small things of everyday life.  I have a sense of guidance and direction.  I see a bigger picture than just my immediate circumstances.  I feel enormously thankful for the way many of the big questions I had in terms of life decisions have panned out.  I have security and hope.  I have a real sense of not being alone.  I feel that I am growing into the person I was always meant to be.

I’m still learning, still questioning, still wrestling, but I think that’s what keeps faith alive.  I’m trying to see how to apply it and I am aware of my own short-comings.  It’s not been a bunch of rules or traditions that have hindered or shackled me, but something that has freed me.  Sure, I have plenty of off days, but I wouldn’t trade what I have now for anything in the world.