An abortive attempt at a sermon, a walk to the bank, the ordering of some 200 Christmas crackers, and various degrees of mulling later, I think I have some thoughts...

An honest grief - a grief that does not pretend everything is alright when it clearly isn't, that acknowledges pain, questions, regrets, doubts, whatever it may be, for that person at that time.

A hopeful grief - a grief that sees death not as the end but as part of something else, that, despite the pain etc., looks beyond itself not in a pious, pie-in-the-sky way, but trusts in God's promises

A joyful grief - joy is not the same as happiness, but it is a quality that allows for smiles and laughter, celebration and remembering, whilst avoiding false cheerfulness

A mysterious grief - a grief that recognises that death is a mystery, that we cannot fully know what follows, that we can never really understand what happens, but we know (intuitively?) that something is going on.  Linked with hope, we know that ultimately all will be well

A timely grief - a grief that is expressed at the right time, not being repressed or suppressed but also not being measured according to some psychological scheme with phases and timings.  It does its 'work' and does not ensnare or damage.

A shared grief - if we take seriously the idea of community, of our interconnectedness in the 'Body of Christ' then we must grieve together on some sense.

A healing grief - that somehow in the honesty, hope, joy, mystery, timeliness and sharing we find wholeness and liberation so that we can continue to live life in all its fullness.

Still not a sermon, and needs some careful work to make it useable, but getting there, I think.

I stumbled across this phrase this morning as I was reading NT Wright's Paul for Everyone commentary on 1 Thessalonians 4, which is one of the passages I've chosen for Sunday's Remembrance service.  It is a great phrase because it gives Christians permission to grieve, a need that sometimes seems to be suppressed, repressed or even denied.  It is a great phrase because it says there is a Christian way of grieving that is different from other expressions, not that these lack authenticity, but that they miss something that our faith offers.  It is a great phrase because it forces us to think what is appropriate, and what is maybe not, for us as Christians.

Wright's reading of the text will inevitably offend some Biblical literalists, since he refutes the idea of a rapture, points out the meshing of three ancient metaphors, and centres on the aim of the text, which is to comfort, encourage and reassure those who are alive.  Death, resurrection, heaven and/or a new creation are mysteries we cannot begin to grasp, and what the symbols and metaphors offer us is only ever partial, but we can be sure that those who have died remain in God's care.

If I am able to communicate some of the liberation and hope that this passage offers those who grieve, then I will be satisfied.

Today I am up to my ears in preparations for Sunday's Remembrance service.  In a moment of rash stupidity, I decided to do a booklet (rather than just a song sheet for those who can't see the screen) that we'll sit in a circle with monitors for visuals rather than a screen and, as I've only had five requests for candles and bought 4 dozen of the things, I'd find a suitable to text so that everyone could have a 'labelled' candle to take away.

In the trusty open source software that is E-Sword, Iwas looking at various translations of John1:5 and found this in the Message which I really like...

The Life-Light blazed out of the darkness; the darkness could not put it out

I'm not a great fan of the Message, but this seemed ideal for Sunday, and I love the word 'blaze' used in this context, suggesting almost that the light consumes the darkness rather than merely that the darkness can't extinguish the light.

I hope the service works - we are using some three-handkerchief weepy hymns/tunes because I feel some of our folk need some release of pent-up emotion, some poetry (not too mawkish) and some images (when I decide which!).  Time will tell - but hopefully the Life-Light will indeed blaze through and the candles find their way into the homes of those who need the hope of the words.

If you don't read the Baptist Times (or even if you do) then Glen Marshall's latest four offerings (here, here, here and here) are worth a look.  One of the things that I find challenging, though, is trying to hold the four of them together.

Only this week I was told that churches don't want theologians, they want someone who will be nice to them; that while ministers might know that the church exists for mission, what congregations desire/require is a chaplain to the faithful.  All this is rather demoralising if you are a mission-focussed, theologically-energised minister in a small church.  I read Glen's stuff and found myself agreeing with a lot of what he said but wondering how on earth you bridge the gap to reality.

So, how do you join up all the thinking?  Answers on a postcard please...

I am trying to read Introduction to Philosophical Hermeneutics, Jean Grondin, tr. Joel Weinsheimer, New Haven, Yale University Press, 1994, and not making much progress because the phone keeps ringing.  Ah well.  Nonetheless, I have quite enjoyed the twenty or so pages I've read this morning, been very grateful to those who tried to teach me Greek because the smattering of vocabulary I gained have has proved invaluable, and have already found something that has made me go 'hmmm' in a good way.

Evidently someone by the name of Augustine of Dacia (as distinct from he of Hippo) extended some ideas from Origen (of Alexandria, not another one!) in developing a four-fold scheme for Biblical interpretation.  This scheme was rejected by Luther, which probably explains why until today I'd never come across it.  The fourfold scheme is this:

• Literal (somatic or historical) interpretation
• Allegorical interpretation
• Moral interpretation
• Anagogical (~eschatalogical) interpretation

The author of the book then summarises the these thus: 'the literal teaches us what happened, the allegorical what to believe, the moral what we ought to do, and the anagogic what we are striving toward.'

Care is needed to avoid a simplistic reading of the thesis, and I'd need to look much more closely at this stuff to find out quite how this Augustine perceived his scheme, but it seems to hint at a series of helpful interpretive questions both for scripture and for history (or perhaps for anything else!):

• What does it say? (literal)
  
• What does it mean? (allegorical, used loosely, what are the truths it contains?)
  
• So what? (moral - how does this affect me/us?)
  
• What next? (how does this affect the here and now in the light of the aims/visions/hopes for the future?)

Another thing I've discovered is that the ancients understood 'hermeneutic' as functioning both in the move from mind/thought-to-word/letter and in the more familiar way from word/letter-to-thought/understanding.  I think this is helpful as I try to think about the reading and writing of denominational history, not that it isn't already recognised in historical method stuff, because it is, but because it verbalises it in a way I find connects bits of ideas together.  Thus, I end up with a writer asking themself similar questions about

• what do I write - subject matter?
• what does it mean?  What hidden truths (untruths?!) or messages are encoded within it?
• so what?  What difference do I want this to make to those who read it in shaping values, understanding etc.
• what next?  What are the practical implications of reading and reflecting on this stuff?

So, generally useful stuff.  Needs more critical thought inevitably.  But a useful exercise, I think.  (Maybe now I have to go and apply the scheme and questions to the scheme and questions ...)