Today was one of the full day sessions of the Ignatian  course, and the focus was on 'The Call of the King' - thinking about the Christ who calls us to follow.

The morning was a time of reflection on the first ten chapters of the gospel of Mark, and the photo is the  doodle thingy that emerged from so-doing. 

I was drawn to a question that ran along the lines of 'what do you learn about Jesus - and God - from what he does and how he does it' rather than what he says.

I seemed to detect three threads (I'm sure with more time I'd have found more)...

• a compassionate, kind Jesus who engages with broken people at a one-to-one level
• an irritable Jesus who gets annoyed with his followers when they don't 'get' it
• a very demanding Jesus who insists on being No. 1 in the lives, hearts and minds of his followers - Kingdom before kin, Cross before comfort.

I then wondered how these weave together to give a 'thicker' description of Jesus, or a richer understanding of who he was/is.

Some of the scribbles on my doodle relate not to this exploration, but arise from the reflection I've undertaken ahead of overview sermon on Mark tomorrow.

Much to mull over from the day, but for now it's feet up with knitting and kitties!

Yesterday was my first day back at the Care Home, and I have to admit that trudging up the hill in the rain was a bit of a chore.  I arrived, got the updated residents list and started to check off who I would drop in to see - sadly at three of my regulars, and among my faovurites, if such things are permitted, had died over the holiday period.

As I sat making my new list, one of the 'Activity Coordinators' approached me with a huge gift-wrapped parcel - a thank you for my work over the past year.  Getting home, I opened it to reveal the biggest box of biscuits you ever did see! I was very touched, and somewhat humbled, because sometimes I do wonder whether I contribute anything to the well-being of those I see.

On average, I see about 20 people when I visit, and a quick check through the records I began to keep a year ago, have spent time with more than 50 people in that time.  Some only once, as they are passing through; some I see several times; a few I've been called in to see as they neared the end of their lives.  it's the nature of Care Homes that turnover of residents is quite rapid; it's also a great privilege to allowed to wander around, to chat to people and, when they so wish, to pray with and for them.

CAUTION - this may be a bit preachy.  For once, I make no apologies.

I've just had a lovely three day, stay at home break by combining the two bank hols from this week with a 'transferred' day off.  Much sleep has been had, several mince pies have been munched, many kitty cuddles have been experienced (Sasha has come and sat next to me daily for ten days now!), quite a lot of knitting and a little bit of jigsaw puzzling has been done. It's been good.

At the same time the New Year - and new decade as the media love to keep reminding us - brings lots of cause for concern.

Social media is a mixed blessing, at its worst it is angry, aggressive and self-indulgent, but at its best, it's real community.

Over the past few days, along with other 'cats of twitter' the world over, my two have been watching and waiting with an online friend in Australia as the wild fires draw closer and closer to their home - and they are now essentially trapped as all roads have been closed.  The concern, support and desire to help has been staggering - donations to charities, petitions signed and many more.  OK, so this is middle class, mostly white, people with cats responding to one of their own, but it has really stirred people to the consequences of the climate changes being faced, and how close it comes to 'people like us'.  Yes, it should have prompted this level of concern when it was people in smaller, less dominant nations, but perhaps better late than never.  Climate issues are going to be incredibly significant this decade - whether it's floods in Derbyshire or fires Down Under.  We need to act now to save our planet.

Social media also brought me news of the death of one of my longest standing cancer friends.  We weren't close, and we only met twice in real life, but we, along with too many others, shared a world that - like any world - is only understandable from within.  S was French and had made her home in the south of England where she raised a family.  She was clever, funny, kind and generous  - everything that is good about being European.  Now the dye is cast, 'Brexit' will happen, legally or illegally, it seems, on 31st January.  The relationships of the UK with Europe and the other nations, and indeed the relationship between the 'home nations' will all be renegotiated in the coming years, for good or for ill.  International - and intranational - relations are going to be hugely important this decade and, whatever our politics, we need to recognise our shared humanity and interdependence.  We need to act together for the good of all - there is no 'them' any more than a Plan(et) B.

It's been a bit of a season for deaths of people I know, it seems, as today has brought me news of the deaths of hymnwriter Graham Maule and Baptist minister and historian the Revd Douglas Sparkes.  History and hymnody are, in my view, two vital strands in our self understanding and self expression.  Each of these men has been hugely significant in his own sphere and in his own unique way.  We are poorer, I fear, for their loss, because we have lost two fine thinkers and practitioners.  A while back I preached a sermon on 'Poets, Prophets and Pragmatists' (to which I subsequently added 'Pastors') and I am reminded of its import again today.  It is the poets (including song writers) who epxress what prose, however skilful and accurate, cannot.  It is the prophets who call out what is wrong - yes, they are 'preachy', annoying, unsettling and often grumpy - as well as daring to dream what might yet be.  It is the pragmatists who get on and get things done - as the scriptures tell us, faith proves itself in deeds... For me, the challenge is discerning not what I am called to (I know that's sort of prophetic-pragmatic-pastoral-preachy) it's working out  just what that looks like in so complex and confusing a context as we now face.

So is there hope?  Yes, there is.

The knitting project is a baby blanket for one of 'my' GB girls from Warrington who is now expecting her first baby.  She has been through a lot over the years, and known much sadness, so I am delighted that now she has the joy of motherhood ahead of her.  And it gives me great hope that, even in thise battered and broken world, thinking people still choose to bring new life into opur world.  I hope and pray that when H's baby grows up they will be able to enjoy life to the full, in a wolrd that is kinder and safer than our worst fears might lead us to expect.

If you've read this far, thank you - it means a lot that you would choose to do so.

It's been a bit quiet on here - partly because I succumbed to the 'Clergy Christmas Cold'.  Thankfully it was a 'short sharp' one, with the first stirrings in the evening of Christmas Day, and now, apart from some post viral fatigue, it's behind me. Anyway, enough self indulgent waffle.

Christmas Day itself was wonderful... the service attracted around fifty folk, who participated in a low key, easy access service.  After that it was on to dinner - and, in the words of the African American spiritual, 'the people keep a-comin...' as we served fifty meals.  For sure, most people were there at the appointed time, but there were new arrivals with each course, and the last person came in from the cold just as we started to clear the tables - and was so grateful for a warm place and hot meal. I always love the miracle of this gathering, not that people come (that takes a fair bit of work, though the 'jungle drums' and Holy Spirit reach where advertising cannot) but that people 'of all stripes' sit down together... international students, homeless people, lonely people, elderly people, people desperate to volunteer, Christian people, Muslim people, agnostic and atheist people.  It's hard work, tiring work (and the photo was me when I got home, and the Christmas jammies and fluffy slippers went on).  It is also 'what Christmas is about' and so often isn't.  I am proud to have been a small part of it.

After that it was hibernating for a couple of days as the lurgy took told... but that was a good call, it cleared up quickly.

This morning, as has become recent custom, we joined with Church of Scotland friends for a 'Turn of the Year' service during which we looked back and forwards, reflected on some hopeful words of Scripture and sung some lovely hymns/songs.

People we gracious and joined in creating the verses for 'Thank you God for this past year...' with some super, and significant, choices...

Thank you God for:

(Great) Grandchildren

Special friends

Ready meals

Mountain rescue

This past year!

We also sang Bonhoeffer's New Year Hymn, 'By gracious powers' and prayed together Wesley's Covenant Prayer - these are powerful and poignant, and it was more than a little self-indulgent to chose them.  We listened to some great words of Scripture, infused with hope and encouragement. And it felt pretty darned good!

So that's it, then, all services for 2019 completed.  If we count the new millennium from 2000, we are are now a fifth of the way through its first century (eek!).  If we say the old one ended in 2000, well, OK, we are about to enter the 20th one of the new century (equally eek!).  Had anyone said to me, as a first year ministerial student working alongside an Anglican parish in 1999 that in 2019 I would be co-leading a service with a Church of Scotland minister in Glasgow, I would probably have thought they were slightly mad (only slightly, because after all God had so clearly called me to abandon my career to train).  Those twenty years have seen a lot of changes and challenges, as well as lots of joy and delight.  And so it is that I can sing Bonhoeffer's hymn and pray Wesley's prayer with honest intent and commitment...

I am no longer my own but yours.
Put me to what you will,
rank me with whom you will;
put me to doing,
put me to suffering;
let me be employed for you,
or laid aside for you,
exalted for you,
or brought low for you;
let me be full,
let me be empty,
let me have all things,
let me have nothing:
I freely and wholeheartedly yield all things
to your pleasure and disposal.
And now, glorious and blessed God,
Father, Son and Holy Spirit,
you are mine and I am yours. So be it.
And the covenant now made on earth, let it be ratified in heaven.'

Alas, I seem unable to find a version of 'By Gracious Powers' to 'Finlandia' (the set tune in Baptist Praise and Worship, ergo, the 'right tune') so you will have to imagine it, but it is truly awesome!

I have just stumped the cost of another year's blogging, on the basis that £3 a week isn't exactly big bucks...  Thanks to everyone who continues to read this stuff, and may God bless you with a peaceful and hopeful 2020 when it comes.

The last card to come by post this year, and it'd be hard to find one more pertinent, I think. It was sent by friends who live in Whaley Bridge, a town that came within a hair's breadth of being swept away as a dam started to crumble under the pressure of water above it.  A scary, close to home, reminder of the fragility of our planet, and the impact of climate change.

I have online friends in Australia who live in fear that this will be the day that they have to abandon their homes.

I also have online friends thoughout ther UK who fear they will lose their homes because of austerity or government policy, a different kind of climate change.

Part of the message of Christmas is that God enters this mess to transform it from within. Not be magic (oops, miracle) because that would absolve humanity of all responsibility.  No, God enters it as a human, to be part of it and to show us how we can love God's creation as God does.  We can't just cling blithely or blindly to the Revelation 21/22 promises.  We can't just pray harder.  We have to incarnate, to live out, day by day, a best we possibly can, our anticipation of that hope.

That's not easy, in fact it's extremely difficult.  But it's what Christmas is about...

God loved the world so much that God entered the world so that all creation - all creation, including the Trump administration, including Westminster (and Holyrood and Brussels), including ISIS/ISIL, including whoever I may see as 'battered' or 'beleagured', 'broken' or 'bad', or 'them', all of it - might be saved.

And if that doesn't give me pause for thought, then, Houston, I have a problem!

I can't fix it all, but I can be light in my small corner...