This link from today's Baptist Times e-news sweep (aka BUGB e-news sweep) is worth a look see...

Everyone reads the Bible partially, that is, incompletely and in a biased fashion.

Everyone thinks they read the Bible authentically, that is, that they are right (or more right) than others.

Being partial is inevitable and not wrong, but it's not wholly right either.

I kinda feel if we Bappy's could really grasp this, then our unity-in-diversity would be more real and healthy.

Today the twentieth of forty 'blog posts' appeared on the BUGB beyond 400 website.  So, we are now half way, which seems a good place to reflect on how I have experienced the endeavour so far.

Firstly, I feel that, for me anyway, it has involved a lot of the 'usual suspects' in the choices of people to post the reflections.  I know a lot of effort went into trying to find a real spread of people, but I have a sneaky suspicion that had it been a self-selecting group then, thus far, it would not be so very different.  Or maybe it's just the circles I move in... maybe I'm more of a pan-BUGB-Baptist than I realise?  Whatever the reality, the vast majority of posters are people I know, and people I would happily discuss theology with, and among whom it would safe-enough to express honestly held views and agree to disagree

Secondly, I wonder how people are engaging with the conversations?  Not just how many hits, and how many comments, but more along the line of, are the people who were reading at post No 1 still reading at post No 20?  Who has given up reading because they feel unable to participate?  One or two early commenters have disappeared, why is this?  Others have posted pseudonymosly, despite the request for people to use real names, why is that?  Some have been courageous in what they've shared, others quite guarded.  What are the silent majority of readers thinking and doing with this stuff?  What is not being said? How does any of it get to grass roots, to the faithful, computer illiterate members of our churches, or to those who find words like 'blog' or 'facebook' or 'twitter' to be anathema?

I am wondering if it is significant that Post 20, because it is Post 20, not just because of its content/focus, is the place where one of BUGB's big elephants is named, that somehow now the person how named it feels the forum is safe enough or the time right to speak his questions?  How do we build up enough trust to allow diverse, even controversial, views to be expressed?

And then of course the crucial 'so what' question.  I enjoy the conversations, the playing with ideas, the questions and ponderings.  I enjoy... but so what?  Hidden in amongst the words, and hidden behind the words (what is not being said) is much that demands action.  Yes, we need strategies.  Yes we need theolgies.  Yes we need spirtualities.  Yes we need prayer.  Amen to most of what everyone is saying but... so what?  To what purpose all this expenditure of effort?  It is actually "Beyond Beyond 400" where the rubber hits the road.

Today's readings have a strong Abraham focus:

Psalm 22:23-31
Genesis 16:1-6
Romans 4:1-12

The Romans passage has Abraham as an exemplar of righteousness, whose deeds reflected his faith, and whose obedience to God predated the rite of circumcision.  This is set in parallel with the beginning of Genesis 16 where Sarai approaches Abram with an idea to resolve their childless state... perhaps the slave Hagar can be a surrogate mother.  Abram it seems does not object to the suggestion, and Hagar does indeed conceive.  Poor Sarai, now her own inability to bear children is compounded, her previously worthless slave has done what she cannot do; she is angry and upset, and goes off complaining to Abram, who, it has to be said, is not portrayed as being very sympathetic... she's your slave, you sort it.

Sarai maltreated Hagar.  Firstly she saw her as womb, a vessel in which a son for Abram could grow; an object if you like, a mere incubator for the child who would fulfil Abram's need for an heir (in ancient understandings men's 'seed' was the totality of the new child, the woman a mere receptor to nourish it).  Then she envied her, as Hagar experienced morning sickness, as her belly swelled and her back ached, Sarai became bitter.  Every grimace became a scowl, every look a put-down, every swell of belly or breast an insult.   Then, when Abram shook his head and told her to get on with it, she was so cruel to Hagar that, pregnant though she was, she fled... a runaway slave had no rights and could expect severe repercussions once caught and returned.

I'm not really sure, though, that Abram emerges smelling of roses.  When the suggestion was made that he take Hagar, there is no sense that he agonised over the decision, prayed about it or even was shocked at the suggestion.  He just got on with it and then waited.  Hagar gains no favour or status in his eyes even when she is carrying his child, she is still Sarai's property for Sarai to treat as she will. This 'man of God' is hardly an example of gentleness, compassion or even thoughtfulness.  He is complicit in the attempt to end his childlessness.

The lectionary breaks off at this point... and will pick up again tomorrow as the Hagar story takes a dramatic twist.  But for now we are left with the unhappy household of Abram and Sarai.  Here is an elderly, childless couple who have taken things into their own hands and it has all turned very sour.  Reading this story gives me pause for thought about those who we perceive, or who present themselves, as being especially righteous, and what goes on behind their closed doors.  What are the tensions in their personal lives?  What temptations do they face to 'fix' things using the opportunities available to them?  How do they handle their negative emotions?  What impact does all this have on their faith and life?

And of ourselves.  What desires or promises seem unfulfilled?  How do we respond?

God, can't you fix it quickly?

Can't you just fulfil that promise now, this minute, like this?

What if we do this, God, you know, this way

That'll work

Won't it?

I mean, the end result will be the same...

It won't?

Your ways are not my ways?

Your thoughts not like mine?

(Well I knew that, but even so...)

What's that?

It could all end in tears and regrets...

So, God,

How do I do it your way?

How do I distinguish your voice amidst the clamour?

How do I spend the meantime

When my faith and trust look utterly ridiculous

When the promise sounds so hollow

When time marches on and opportunities dwindle...

Teach me your ways, Oh Lord,

Show me your paths

Forgive my haste

Forgive my bright ideas

Forgive my pragmatism

And give me instead

Your peace.

At first sight, a rather odd collection readings today:

Psalm 22: 23-31

Genesis 15: 1 - 6, 12-18

Romans 3: 21 - 31

The extract from the Psalm is very positive, a surprise for those who know only the beginning of Psalm 22 as the 'cry of dereliction' uttered by Jesus Christ during his agonising crucifixion.  The mood of the psalm shifts abruptly from despair and lament to bold faith.  I fear that to read either in isolation is to miss part of what is intended.

The Romans passage is a lovely (imo) description of a sola fide, sola gratia understanding of salvation.  Actually, I have to confess to liking the book of Romans, even when parts of it are rather challenging and cause me to go 'yes but... no but... oh but...'  I may well be using this passage (among others) when I ponder my sermon on sin and grace...

So it is actually to the Genesis reading that I turn for today's reflection.  It's always curious when the lectionary skips over some verses mid-passage, and here it is a description of a rather bizarre sacrificial ritual that Abraham undertakes in between a vision (vv 1 -6) and a dream (vv 12 - 18).  The vision is full of hope - the promise of descendants that outnumber the stars - the dream more of a nightmare - fore-telling the slavery (in Egypt, not named) and the many generations before they would return to place Abraham now was).  I think the reason this passage strikes me is not the detail of the vision and the dream, but their proximity.  Hope and fear, success and failure, life and death, joy and sorrow... they are not neatly defined opposites as if one displaces the other, but somehow they co-exist in near proximity at all times.  To have descendants that out-number the stars - wow... that those descendants will be slaves - gulp.  If that is to be so, do I really want them then?  If the path of promise is also a path of suffering, will I choose it?  But then that is, in part, what Lent is about... that God's path of promise was also God's path of suffering...

When I was in Dibley, one of the best loved worship songs, and one they introduced me to, was this:

You may not be a Kendrick fan, but it is song that has helped many people face the challenge of the interplay of ups and downs that are real life.  It reminds me of people I love, so it is very precious.

God of Abraham

God of Sarah

God of Jesus

God in Christ

So easily we look for promsies of abundance

And overlook the sting the tail

That joy and sorrow are intertwined

That laughter and tears must co-exist

That life and death are never opposites

That what we hope for may bring anxiety

That what we most fear may surprise us with fulfilment

In the whole of life

Assure us of your companionship

Let is never grow complacent in prosperity

Or bitter in adversity

But always walk

One day at a time

With you.

Can't say I'm much in to saints days, let alone those of patron saints of various nations (it's always mildly amusing that Portugal and England share a patron saint) but because I am decidedly bored with news, local and national, that infers the UK consists solely of Scotland and England...

A Happy St David's Day to any Welsh/Walian/living-in-Wales readers.