Yesterday's IBRA notes focussed on the section of Romans 3 that includes the phrase 'all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.'  The commentator's observations arose from her experiences teaching disaffected and disenfranchised young people in the US.  When they arrive at the programme they are given a three hour test.  Most of them know they struggle with maths but assume their literacy skills are fine.  It is often a shock for them to disover that they 'fall short' of what is needed but, once they have accepted this is so, they are able to engage with the programme and build up their skills.

Too often we limit our view of sin to 'doing wrong things that deserve punishment' when the idea of 'missing the target' or 'falling short' is rather different.  With a pass mark of perfection no one is going to succeed however hard they try, however good their life.  Realising and accepting our imperfection gives us the opportunity to engage, with others, in the work of transformation (OK so God does the transforming but often it is mediated via people)... churches as collections of 'special needs' Christians... I think I kind of like that, keeps my feet well on the ground.

(As an aside it reminded me of the 'Sheedog Trials' sermon in Susan Howatch's The High Flyer which explored positive understandings of judgement)

My pre-ordered (nice tautolagous composite word!) copy of Rob Bell's Love Wins is on its way to me.  And Amazon guarantee to match the best price on the day, so I am being refunded £1 on my purchase price. Not sure 'winning' and 'not losing' are the same things but it's a nice bonus anyway.  Maybe I'll give my £1 to Comic Relief ...

Yesterday the IBRA notes used the first ten verses of Luke 15 - lost sheep (1%) and lost coins (10%), people on the margins (shepherds and women) and people at the heart of religious society (Pharisees).  The reader was invited to ponder the parables from the perspective of the Pharisees - the people like us - and then from the perspective of sinner or tax-collector - the people like 'them'.  I was struck, as I have been before, by the thought of the 99 sheep as representing the religious people, the nice Christians who are left to get on with it whilst the shepherd goes out seeking the one that is lost.

The idea that God might leave us to 'get on with it' in order to out seeking for those who are lost (as distinct from us doing or defining that) is quite challenging.  More so, for me anyway, is that the 99 are left not in a field (as I have often noted when preaching) but in the open; and not even in a nice pasture, but (as I noticed this time of reading) in the 'wilderness' (NRSV, KJV).

How shocking for the religious people to be told that rather than safety and security they are left vulnerable!

How appropriate as a Lenten image though - the wilderness place of testing and growing, the place in which temptation away from God and gentle tending by God can occur (devils and angels, if we go with a Matthean reading of Jesus' experiences).

Perhaps rather than a troubling image it could be an encouraging one - that God reckons we are ready for the wilderness experiences?

It's dangerous, of course, to take any image in isolation and out of context, but I am challenged to reflect upon what it might mean to consider oneself part of the 99 fit to be left in the wilderness.

Events in Japan are tragic, let's make no mistake about that.  The uncontrolled release of radiation from their nuclear plant is worrying, causing members of the public to have an unchosen risk of short and long term effects of the radiation they receive.  But a bit of perspective please... the NHS is due to give me 50Gy (i.e. 5000 cGy or 50,000mGy) split into 25 'fractions' in a therapeutic role.  Carefully targetted at a small part of my body and 'risk balanced' that it is less likely (or no more likely) to cause than cure cancer... and as the leaflet so casually puts it (paraphrased)... even if it does it won't be for many years anyway.  The bottom line is this: 50Gy is a lot.

There is a massive difference between me choosing to accept the risks posed by my treatment than some innocent Japanese person receiving a whole body dose even at a substantially lower level.  But there is also a lot of sensationalist and ill-conveived reporting going on.

Most people in the UK happily accept X-rays and CT scans, quietly building up their dose uptake (often without knowing it) and remain blissfully ignorant of any link between the diagnostic or therapeutic uses of radiation and the nuclear industry.  Most people who receive radiotherapy will never know how big a dose they get - I know only because I asked.  Sometimes I suspect ignorance is bliss and a little knowledge very dangerous.

After consideration, I have opted not to include any numerical comparative stuff here lest it be misquoted or misappropriated.  Suffice to say that radiotherapy doses, whatever the practitioners say, are big.  They are also carefully targetted and controlled.  I am certainly not concerned - beyond a professional curiosity - about my upcoming treatment, the benefit of which outweighs the risks.  Thus far, the doses to which people in Japan have been exposed seem, thankfully, to substantially lower, albeit that they are whole body and unchosen.

Right now it is clearly evident a little knowledge is misleading and even dangerous... I am glad that as a former nuclear safety assessor I at least understand what is being said and know where to find out accurate information.

(btw UK reactors are deisgned to withstand earthquakes, and tsunamis are considered in developing the safety cases)

Yesterday the invitation to the BUGB Women in Ministry day arrived, and it's title is "Made in God's Image."  Nuking side-effects permitting, I am intending to attend the day when it takes place in May, and am looking forward to catching up with colleagues and friends 'south of the border' and in what is, arguably, a slightly more enlightened union. :-)

At various times I have pondered what it means to be made in God's image, beyond gender, beyond race, beyond status, and yet, mysteriously and particularly, as we are.  I am very fond of the line from the Brian Wren hymn that says God's 'living likeness still we bear, though marred, dishonoured, disobeyed.'

Lots of work has been done - and rightly - to affirm that people with physical or developmental disabilities bear God's image.  Lots of work has been done - and rightly - to affirm that people with physical or mental illness or injury bear God's image.  Some work has been done - and rightly - to affirm that older people whose bodies and minds may be worn or frail bear God's image.

I think I am fortunate that I never really equated my worth with my physical appearance, but seeing the title of the day did give me pause for thought.  Each morning as I look in the mirror I see the scars from my surgery.  If it is cold or damp my scars ache.  When I reach out my 'affected' arm the muscles 'tug' a little.  Even now as my hair regrows, eyelashes and eyebrows begin to reappear, they are no longer the 'givens' they once were.  I swallow the pills that will minimise the risk of recurrence but can no longer simply assume an 'average' life expectancy...  This body, now scarred, now sore, now vulnerable, now obviously damaged... this body bears the image of God.

For a long time I was fascinated by the idea of Jesus' post resurrection hands - scarred hands, hands riven with holes, hands that reach out to touch and heal 'this side' of Calvary.  If it is good enough for God to have scars, aches, wounds, damage, then how much more so we, God's creatures?

I am made in the image and likeness of God - scars 'n' all.  And so are you.

(This photo is about 2 weeks old - I have more hair now!)