Today's verses:

Psalm 40:17

1 Kings 19:9

Romans 8:27

Last Sunday I used the wider passage from 1 Kings 19, and Elijah's depressive experience, as part of our reflection on prophets as people who make discoveries about God's activity or intentionality.  Romans 8 is also a passage I've used quite recently, and it comes right up there in the 'top ten (or at least top 100) best loved passages of scripture.  The psalm is perhaps lower on the list of 'overworked scriptures' and so I've opted to sit with that one, albeit briefly.

Yet I am poor and needy; may the Lord think of me. You are my help and my deliverer; O my God, do not delay. Psalm 40:17

The truth is, by any material measurement, anyone reading this is neither poor nor needy - we have a choice of clothes to wear, cupboards stuffed with food, cars sitting on the drive/road/car park, gifts wrapped ready for Christmas.  We do not need anything.

Yet our poverty and need remains - we may speak of being 'time poor', 'emotionally drained', 'spiritually dry', 'burned out' or many more signs of non-material destitution.  Peace is in short supply - peace of mind about the use of our time, the depth of our relationships, the sincerity of our devotional life, the state of our psychological well-being.  So we cry to God - hurry up!  You are the one who can, and will refresh and renew us, but please, get on with it!

You are my help and my deliverer, oh God

You are the one who watches as I burn the candle at both ends

You are the one who notices when I skip a meal or eat junk in order to get more done

You are the one who hears the heart cry of the loved one I am too busy to spend time with..

...And my own heart cry to be with others

You are are the one who waits patiently for me to remember to pray

You are the one who helps me, if only I allow myself to be helped...

Hurry up, God

Come quickly to help me face myself

To recognise my poverty

And seek you help

In the meantime

When I make excuses that I am still

Too busy

Too tired

Too indispensable

Too unspiritual

Too hassled...

In the meantime

I take comfort in the promise

Of Sophia's intercession:

Holy Spirit of God pray for me                    (Romans 8:27)

Amen.

Rather late in the day again today, apologies, more pressing, more important things to be doing.

Today's three readings:

Psalm 139: 17 - 18a

Genesis 17: 3 - 6, 15-17

Philippians 3: 12, 14

Perhaps my choice of reading to go with is surprising, but I've opted for the Genesis:

Abram fell face down, and God said to him, "As for me, this is my covenant with you: You will be the father of many nations.  No longer will you be called Abram; your name will be Abraham, for I have made you a father of many nations  I will make you very fruitful; I will make nations of you, and kings will come from you... God also said to Abraham, "As for Sarai your wife, you are no longer to call her Sarai; her name will be Sarah. I will bless her and will surely give you a son by her. I will bless her so that she will be the mother of nations; kings of peoples will come from her." Abraham fell face down; he laughed and said to himself, "Will a son be born to a man a hundred years old? Will Sarah bear a child at the age of ninety?"

How, you may ask, do I find something hinting at 'peace' in this reading?  Well, for me it's in the last line, where Abram falls about laughing and wondering to himself at the absurdity of what God has told him.  If we read on in the story, we would find Sarah being chastised for laughing, and yet the name of their son, Isaac, is said to mean 'he laughs.'  What kind of relationship must Abram, this old man, have had with God that he could release a belly laugh in response to divine dictate?  To me, it suggests he must have been a man very much at peace with himself and with his God.  I'm not so sure that I'd feel comfortable enough to laugh out loud at something I thought God was telling me.  I'm not that much at peace, with it's connotations of absence of anxiety, assurance of acceptance, confidence in my responses, as it seems that Abram was.

There is the old joke, isn't there, "if you want to make God laugh, tell her your plans" (I'm never quite sure why this is a joke where God becomes feminine, but hey, we'll go with it) so perhaps it's not such a big stretch to laugh with God?  Perhaps part of real peace is a sense of fun, a rascally humour, an indefatigable lightness that rocks with laughter at the preposterous possibility of what God might do?  I mean, c'mon, born to an unmarried peasant girl from Nazareth, in an outhouse in in backstreet in Bethlehem - ludicrous!  But we believe it was so.

And God giggled

And God chuckled

And God guffawed

And God held God's wobbly belly

(And crossed God's legs for fear of rather unholy accidents)

And the universe rang with God's laughter

And a plan was born

A crazy

Ludicrous

Ridiculous

Utterly stupid

(And really rather wonderful)

Plan

Peace on earth

Peace to earth

Earth embraced by peace

Come God of Laughter

Fill our world again with your mirth

Relationships restored

Peace reborn

Amen

Today's readings:

Psalm 39:13

Isaiah 5:1 - 2

Luke 22: 54 - 62

The quest for peace in these verses gets ever more difficult!  The Luke has Peter denying Jesus, the isaiah is a metaphor about a vineyard (and sounds almost worthy of Song of Songs!) and the one verse from the psalm, well it's bewildering.

I'm not going to force it.  I'm just going to accept that, on this day when winds of (reportedly) over 160 mph have swept across parts of Scotland, peace is an elusive concept.

Last Sunday we touched, ever so briefly, on the idea of a prophetic imagination, that sees beyond the reality of here and now to what might be.

My glimpse of peace is a back-and-white furry friend curled up and snoozing while the windows of my flat rattle and whirrr in the wind, rain lashes the window panes and darkness closes in apace.

Where is peace, now, oh God?

Storms rage, buildings break apart, seas roar...

Where is peace, now, oh God?

Peter denies Jesus, tempers flare, violence spreads...

Where is peace, now, oh God?

Scripture stands silent, words devoid of signs...

Here is peace, now, from God

A cat curled in slumber whilst the wind rattle the glass

Here is peace, now, from God

Jesus restores Peter, hope is renewed, vision restored

Here is peace, now, from God...

...

...

...

Be

Be still

Be still and know

Be still and know that I AM

Be still and know that I am God

Today severe winds have hit Scotland, and, for insurance reasons, that meant not being able to be in the Gathering Place.  It appears that a building just round the corner is 'unsafe' as the road was closed at some point late morning (after I'd left for home with all the stuff I needed for the the next 24 hours!).

Anyway:

Lunchtime Advent Reflection...

Manse living room...

Person bearing sandwiches and home-baked mince pies...

Job done!

The real blessing of being in a tabernacling church, whether it camps in its own back garden or somewhere else, is this refusal to be thwarted by events.

Probably not many people had a black and white cat racing in and out of their act of worship today, but it didn't seem to faze my folks (or Holly) too much.

Hopefully the wind will abate and normality be resumed  tomorrow... and I might yet get started on the work I had planned for this morning!

No, it's not a date!  It's something that was prompted in my mind by today's PAYG which was based on  Isaiah 40: 25 - 31, a passage that I used to shape my 'testimony' bit in my ordination service 8 years ago (to the date) yesterday; hence the 8.  The 14 is the number of years since I 'heard' my call on 5th December 1997, the 5 is the number of years since my end of NAM interview by the MRC ahead of full accreditation as a BUGB minister.  As I listened to the reading, I was transported back to each of these 'places' momentarily, and to past reflections thereon (check back the archives for any year I've blogged and I will have mentioned it!).

For whatever reason, this year it had pretty much slipped my mind that these anniversaries come in a rush at the start of December, linked in my mind with Advent 2, and I concluded that's actually quite a healthy thing... a sense that given time, being this minister-type-person becomes 'normal' and no longer noteworthy, even for me.  I think it's helpful, too, as a reminder that other things that seem large and significant will, given time, relegate themselves to the background.

I still quite like to recall these dates, to take a moment to reflect and rededicate myself to the promises I made.  Perhaps, though, just as birthdays are less significant for adults, these anniversaries matter less to 'grown up ministers'?  Anyway, I am 14 or 8 or 5 or something!