I am writing a reflection ( a short sermon I guess) for Sunday's harvest service using the BMS sermon outline as a guide, and getting cross with it!  Focussing on the land of Indonesia, still recovering from the tsunami three years ago - and now recent earthquakes - it talks about the beginning of psalm 46, God as our refuge and strength and then says this "the great mystery of God's power and protection is that it often remains hidden and unseen until a moment of crisis when it is powerfully there to protect us" and talks about some recent animated adventure in which a female superhero rescuses a family at the last minute from certain death.

This makes me cross because it isn't how I understand either God or faith.  God is not a superhero who swoops in to rescue me from trouble just as it is about to overwhelm me, rather, God is there in the midst of the trouble, strengthening me to face it - an ever present help in trouble, not out of it.

God is an ever present help... therefore we will not fear...

To me this means, because we believe that God is strong and ever present in our struggles to help us, we doggedly choose not to be overwhelmed by fear.  This is not the same as 'whoopee do, God's here, I'm not scared.'  No?  I am readily terrified by people and situations!  Even when I believe God is with me.  But because I believe God is there, I can face them, that's the difference faith makes.

A couple of years ago when reading part of Isaiah and the bit that says the Lord's servant will not be discouraged (sorry, I cannot recall chapter and verse and I'm not about to look it up to try to look clever) I recall realising that, for me, this didn't mean 'the LORD's servant won't feel discouraged' but rather 'the LORD's servant doggedly determines not to let things get on top of him/her to the extent that she/he is too discouraged to go on.'

Do I believe in miracles?  Yes, I do.  Do I believe in a superhero genie-in-a-bottle/lamp God?  No, I don't.

Because we believe God is strong and safe, always with us in the struggles of life, we choose not to be afraid, no matter if we lose everything in which we find security... "Desist!" shouts God, "I'm in charge" - this is the God who is with us.

There now, rant over, back to Sunday's reflection....

As part of yesterday's service I offered peple an opportunity of anointing - for healing and/or for service, both Biblical patterns.  When I'd been preparing the service, I had felt strongly that this was the right thing to do, but as the week wore on I became less certain - my folk can be a bit rigid and tell me thst 'Baptists don't...' (fill in the gap).  All through the service I hummed and ha-ed (or however you spell that expression) and only during the intercessions - which I always get someone else to lead - did I finally decide to go with it.

I found this fantastic photo on the web with a Google search which seems to say everything that needs to be said theologically about anointing...

You don't need to be male or a priest to do it, you don't need to be young or dying to receive it!  You don't need 'holy oil blessed by the bishop' - Wilko's baby oil or ASDA cooking oil will do fine (best not to use dirty engine oil though).

And - which is as well as I'm left handed - you don't have to do it with your right hand!!!

~

Before the liturgical invitation to the Lord's table (Baptist brick page 14, a 'Simple Pattern'; I hadn't the energy to write my own this time) I explained what I was offering, that the oil was hypoallergenic, dermatologically tested etc etc and that I would come round during the last hymn (the front row was half full because we only put enough chairs, so I couldn't ask then to move there) but they'd need to indicate by waving at me, which would require some courage on their part.

I, not quite sure what I expected, but I was touched and surprised by those who did respond - not just the 'obvious' ones, in fact, not at all the obvious ones really.  Some of the quieter folk, who are seen as rather peripheral to the church, not the 'old' families, not the noisy ones, these were the people who shyly raised a hand and asked for annointing and prayer.  One person sitting in the back row crossed himself, and I smiled inwardly, glad he felt safe to do this (and afterwards recalled how, though during a year working with an RC church I had never felt the desire to join in, sometimes, in private it is something I, too, find helpful...), another woman, quietly weeping said 'this has come just at the right time...'

It is a constant mystery to me how, when we dare to take risks with our worship, mission and service, somehow, God breaks through and makes authentic the very thing that pushes our boundaries beyond what we would ever dream.

I don't know that anointing will become part of our regular worship- in some ways, I hope not.  There is always a danger that it would become another routine. If, however, it helps us better to minister to one another in moments of need and commissioning, then it is a good thing.

This is a psalm written in old age...

I will praise you with the harp for your faithfulness, O My God

My hands, with fragile paper thin skin, bespeckled with liver spots, embrace the wood polished by years of use...

My fingers, gnarled, stiff with arthritis, scarred by life's battles, reach for the strings so much harder to pluck than in my youth...

The notes sound out, not so clear as in the past, some not intended, some out of time...

But I offer them to you, God of old age, who hears, as if through my hearing aid, the music I play

 

I will sing praise to you to you with the lyre, O Holy One of Isarel

A cough to clear my throat, the frail, faltering notes of old age, wavering, a little off key...

No more top C's, unintentional vibrato...

Words elude my grasp, hymns I loved of yesteryear reduced to tum ti tum...

New songs too fast, too syncopated, no harmonies, no depth...

(Don't let me get crabbit LORD, inside I'm still a young girl with wings on my feet)*

I sing what I know, what I trust to be true...

Great is Thy faithfulness, LORD, unto me.

Today I have a cold - and a hacking cough and my voice isn't too good.  Working with Psalm 71 in readiness for Wednesday and a group of seniors recalling 70 years of the 'Bright Hour' led me along this path.  Somehow thanks to acute rhino-virus, I feel a little more empathy than I otherwise might!

For the record (in case you ever wondered) this is not a pop at new songs, which I actually enjoy using, just a reflection of what some (by no means all) older folk say to me.  That and recognition that I find myself nodding agreement when I watch 'Grumpy Old Women!'

* Plagiarised from the wonderful poem "A Crabbit Old Woman"

Last night, due to a misunderstanding, I had downloaded directions to the wrong Baptist church of two (notionally) in the same town, and we arrived to discover it all shut up and no lights.  We set off to try to find the second one.  Unsure of our bearings we stopped to ask a group of late teens and 20 somethings on their way for a good night out.  "excuse me, can you tell us where Watnall Road is?" we asked tentatively.  "This is it" they said, without laughing, sneering or making us look utterly stupid.  "You don't happen to know where the Baptist Church is?" we added.  They gave us good directions to both the Baptist churches, smiled and went on their way.

Ah me, the youth of today, friendly, helpful and knowledgeable, whatever happened to those nice louts we could fear and shun?

Oh, and a PS as we neared the venue I spotted a church with lights on - the RC Saturday Mass was spilling out.... then another - now a Community Centre - open and buzzing before we finally reached the Baptist church.  The great thing for me was to be in town on Saturday night and see no less than three church buildings (two if you want to be pedantic) open and active when people were out and about.... oh, for more of this.

Tonight I went to see Paul Field's musical 'Cargo', which is his response to the 200th anniversary of the abolition of the transatlantic slave trade.  It is powerful stuff, and combines his great singer/songwriter talent with some powerful narrative.

I don't suppose he is saying anything that, say, Riding Lights or Saltmine or a dozen others aren't, it was just that he happened to be saying it locally.

For me, one of the most powerful things he did was to compare the money involved with consumer goods - a child sold for the price of a Big Mac, for example, or a young girl sold into prostition for the price of an inexpensive second hand car...

Twenty million people currently in slavery is a massive number - too large to mean much.  About the same as 40% of the population of England, or around the whole population of Australia (assuming things like Wikipedia are roughly right.)

"Nothing changes because people think there's nothing they can do - but we can all do something, however small"

"No-one is truly free until everyone is free"

These seem to be the two messages of today - and they are good ones, I think.

(This is a bit of an aside but still...)  One of the big themes this year is about saying sorry - and it's one I find slightly bemusing and bewildering.   Saying sorry without acting differently is rather hollow.  I also wonder where the apologies start and stop - not because I don't think they are worthwhile, but because my ancestors have been both victims and aggressors, sometimes on the same issues (not least, somewhere along the line having both Campbells and MacDonalds; both Jews and Christians; to say nothing of French, Dutch, German and Spanish (I'm not actually all that English really!), soldiers and contientious objectors.... the list is endless).

I guess I end up concluding that how I behave in the here and now is of greater import than who beat, bullied or burned my ancestors.  There's only one person whose actions and attitudes I can control - and that's mine; my challenge is to do my little bit to learn from the past, allow it to inform my present and hopefully contribute to everyone's future.  (Adn that, I think, is called Practical Theology!)