Every now and then I decide I need a change!  Most of my sermons are pretty straight forward explorations of a text or a theme.  Now and then I try my hand at something more creative.

For our glimpse at Luke's portrait of Jesus I decided on the 'friend of sinners' motif, and eventually landed on the account in Luke 14 of the Shabbat dinner at the home of a Prominent Pharisee.  I did my background reading, wrote my nice straight forward sermon but felt a strong lure towards telling it as a story.  So I did, deciding that as I was writing as an unnamed first person, the 'I' had to be female.  Only as I was writing the sum up at the end did the Luke 5 connection come to mind (so I assume that was the God-given bit).

I tell this story not to you, but to myself, for it is I who need to hear, if I have ears to hear...

Responding to Luke 14.pdf

DPT residential, evening 1.  Most of us gathered in the bar (which closed at 9 p.m.!) to chat after dinner.  Two simultnaeous conversations overlapped to give this delightful effect....

"I sometimes wonder what God's doing"

"He's in Louden working on his PowerPoint" 

So, my brain connected these and came up with the line, "God is working his PowerPoint out as year succeeds to year" but, alas, we were unable to finish the new verse for this old hymn.  Any offers?

For those who do not know/have forgotten it, the original runs thus...

God is working his purpose out as year succeeeds to year

God is working his purpose out, and the time is drawing near

Nearer and nearer draws the time, the time that shall surely be

When the earth shall be filled with the glory of God, as the waters cover the sea.

I typed 'perichorsis' into Google images and this is the picture that came up most often.  It is a fascinating icon, beloved of many, and whilst I'm not sure how it relates to one year of DPT, I am happy to use it, if only because the concept of perichoresis is one I have come to value greatly.

I have just written a reflection on the year for my journal - it begins

"Much as I get hacked off with having to write all these reflection thingies, and much as this is my own precious free time, I do need to record some thoughts now, because in two year’s time when I have to write them up I won’t remember them!"

In thinking what to share with world, I have deliberately not simply reproduced what I wrote because it is personal, instead this is a new piece that I will print and keep. 

It has been a mixed year - parts of it have hacked me off big time, other parts have been great fun, and I have enjoyed the reading, researching and meeting new people.  Sitting down and reflecting on it all - what has annoyed me, what has inspired me, what I have (or have not) learned has been a useful experience.

One of the thoughts that strikes me today relates to what David Lyall said about perichoresis - and what he didn't say - and why my project is so immensely difficult for anyone to supervise.  In yesterday's stuff I mentioned my own lack of knowledge of systematic theology, the sense of inferiority it gives me, and the fact that I see strength in being aware of one's weaknesses.  I think that today I have realised the significance of the fact that my research project lies at an interface between 'traditional' theology (church history) and practical theology (church health).  I think there does need to be some sort of 'perichoresis' of the two (and also, by someone, some time with systematics/dogmatics, Biblical studies, spirituality, etc etc) not just a face to face dialogue.  But this fact of it itself is problematical - how do I ensure that my work does not simply fall into the gap that currently exists between the two fields?  My dad used to have a favourite saying 'he who sits on two stools will surely fall between' - so how do I 'engineer' some perichoresis (or at least bridge the gap) so that this doesn't happen?  I begin to realise the unfair task my supervisors face!

My guess is that there must be other people who are trying to play their part in this theological grand chain, seeing how the whole is so much greater than the sum of the parts. 

As I begin to look ahead to next year's work, I have one or two ideas that I'd like to explore in a kind of empirical-textual way.  James Hopewell in his book Congregations: Stories and Structures does a delightful slagging off of congregational histories as boring.  I'm sure he is right, and I also think his assertion that they are lists of names and dates makes them of minimal use as a resource for change.  But to argue this, I need to be able to subtantiate it - reading a whole pile of boring histories could, perversely, be quite interesting, as well as supporting my thesis that denomionational level is the right place to find the resources, even of they originate in discrete congregations.  However, I think I'd also need to do more work with denominational histories not only to identify more clearly their trajectories and aims, but to see what their limitations are in terms of seeking evidence of process rather than detailed description of outcome.

Of course, time will tell what I end up doing, and I will need to keep at least one eye on the congregational studies side of it all.

So, at times it has been a going round in circles, at times it has been walking up blind alleys, and at times it has been the fun of a dance with the mystery of an icon.  It has been an expensive year, costing around 2k if I include books, software, travel and so on but overall, yes, I 'm glad to have come this far...

Now and then I talk to friends who are part of Team Ministries in large churches and I hear the sound of a creaking and groaning commandment in grave danger of snapping as grass on the other side of the fence appears so incredibly lush.  I am not sufficiently green (as in naive) to think that all is roses in large churches or team ministries, but I do find I get green (as in envious) quite easily when I compare and contrast.  The nice, holy, 'I'm where God wants me' answer doesn't always work.

If I'm totally honest, I miss the camraderie of office life - the banter between colleagues, the pleasure of watching new staff grow and develop, the people to bounce ideas around with, and the 'critical friendships' with peers.  It ought, I am sure, to be possible to see these things in church life, whether you are a sole minister or part of a team, but the reality seems somewhat different.  I assume - though it may not be true - that in minstry teams there is a greater sense of being in this together and working for a common aim. 

I'm not daft enough to think that those in ministry teams do less work than I do because they 'only' have to do the sermon, and maybe 'only' once or twice a month, but I do find myself envying the time they seem to have to prepare - though at least nowadays I only preach once a Sunday most weeks.  Someone told me they spent 10 hours per sermon - I don't even get that per service... pity those poor Methodists and Anglcians who have to race around three, four or however many churches every week...

I also know that I have freedoms that have to be let go as part of a team - at least I don't have to worry which songs will be chosen, or how many 'really justs' will litter the prayers of approach let alone the structure of the service.  I know it is a privlege to choose which parts of scripture we will explore and I value the opportunity to work with a theme over several weeks rather than the kind of 'hit and run' approach that can arise if you only get one out of a set.

Whilst I'm being honest, it always grates when people perceive bigger churches as a 'step up' from small ones, (well done good and faithful servant, you have been faithful over a little church so here is your reward of a bigger one) and that the 'goal' is to be team leader in a massive church.  It grates a bit that our system means that big churches with lots of people can have two, three or more ministers, sometimes paying them obscene sums of money, while small churches may not have anyone, or if they do it's a struggle for all concerned.  Tricky not to envy the minister in the big church sometimes... 

This has the danger of turning into a self-obsessed griping session, which is neither healthy nor constructive.  I guess the truth is that if we believe that God does call some people to large churches or teams and others to small churches and solo ministry, we should see them as equally valuable, if different.  One of the things that saddens me about Baptist churches is that the richer churches tend to have more staff and/or pay them more money while the poorer churches sometimes don't have any.  If instead of choosing to pay more to 'our person' or having more people for ourselves we all paid into Home Mission maybe there would be a few less emerald coloured, commandment breaking small church ministers...

Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's church, not his worship group, nor her youth specialist, neither the four bedroomed manse with a shower nor the idyllic views over open countryside, nor anything, not anyone that is thy neighbour's...

(Courtesy of Zoe, CTF ...) 

One sunny day, a rabbit came out of her hole in the ground to enjoy the fine weather. The day was so nice that she became careless and a fox snuck up behind her and caught her.

"I am going to eat you for lunch!" said the fox. "Wait!" replied the rabbit," You should at least wait a few days." 

 "Oh yeah? Why should I wait?"

"Well, I am just finishing my dissertation on 'The Superiority of Rabbits over Foxes and Wolves.'"

"Are you crazy? I should eat you right now! Everyone knows that a fox will always win over a rabbit."

"Not according to my research. If you like, you can come into my hole and read it for yourself. If you are not convinced, you can go ahead and eat me for lunch."

"You really are crazy!" said the fox, but since the fox was curious and had nothing to lose, it went into the hole with the rabbit.

The fox never came out.

A few days later, the rabbit was again taking a break from writing when a wolf came out of the bushes and was ready to set upon her.

"Wait!" yelled the rabbit," You can't eat me right now."

"And why might that be, my furry appetizer?" said the wolf.

"I am almost finished with my dissertation on 'The Superiority of Rabbits over Foxes and Wolves.'"

The wolf laughed so hard he almost let go of the rabbit. "Maybe I shouldn't eat you--you really are sick in the head! You might have something contagious."

"Come and read it for yourself, you can eat me afterwards if you disagree with my conclusions."

So the wolf went down into the rabbit's hole...and never came out.

The rabbit finished her dissertation and was out celebrating in the local lettuce patch.

Another rabbit came along and asked, "What's up? You seem very happy."

"Yup, I just finished my dissertation."

"Congratulations! What's it about?"

"'The Superiority of Rabbits over Foxes and Wolves.'"

"No way! That can't be right."

"Oh, but it is. Come and read it for yourself."

So the two rabbits went down into the rabbit hole. As they entered, the friend saw the typical graduate abode. A computer with the controversial work was in one corner surrounded by discarded papers. And on one side of the room there was a pile of fox bones, while on the other side there was a pile of wolf bones. And in the center, there was a large, well-fed lion.

The moral of the story:

The title of your dissertation doesn't matter. The subject doesn't matter. The research doesn't matter. All that matters is who your superviser is.