Today's PAYG was the passage from John's gospel where the first disciples encounter Jesus, two of them guided to him by John the Baptist.  The phrase the listener was invited to reflect on was Jesus' question to them, "what are you looking for?"

It's a good question to ponder, and like the best theological questions, can be read in many ways at many levels.

What is it that you seek? 

Have you lost something and hope to find it?

Do you yearn for something and hope to obtain it?

Is it something concrete, tangible, measurable?

Is it something nebulous, intangible, ill-defined?

What am I looking for at the start of this year?

For me the answers (for there is no one tidy answer) tend to be nebulous rather than concrete, internal rather than external, individual rather than corporate.

Last year was so incredibly busy, with barely time to draw breath, so this year I am seeking more balance, more space, more tranquility, more time to 'be'.

Last year, also, the incredible busyness was centred very much in short term bursts, so this year I am seeking to step back and take a longer view, to think about what ministry might look like not just this week, month or year, but in the longer term... how best can I serve the Gatherers, what is it that I need to be/do going forward?

After six and a half years 'AD'- and at risk of tempting providence by saying this - it feels safe enough to think longer term ... not the carefree unquestioning expectation of endless tomorrows, but a sense that it's reasonable to make personal plans that look further ahead than just the next couple of years.  At the same time, I don't want to lose the greater spontaneity or spirit of adventure that came with loss of certainty.  So I think I'm seeking a middle course there.

What am looking for?  I think I am looking for rhythms and disicplines in all areas of life that will nourish and sustain me, will serve the 'purposes of God' and so bring a sense of wholeness and peace.

Holding together 'who are you?' with 'what are you looking for' seems to be a good and helpful challenge for the year ahead.  And maybe, just maybe, by writing it here where the whole world can see, I might just hold myself to it!!

Today's PAYG focussed on a passage from Ecclesiasticus (that's in the Apocrypha in case you don't recognise it) and focussed on an intriguing phrase, "my soul grappled with wisdom".  Wisdom is personified as a woman, or at least as feminine, so I think I can be permitted the connection that popped into my mind with Jacob wrestling all night at Peniel.

These are strong words, challenging words... grappling, wrestling... demanding, risky concepts that risk failure in the quest for success.

In a recent evening service, I used the Jacob story alongside that of Nicodemus as night time encounters with Christ/God and spoke of the value of wrestling with ideas and concepts, of asking questions and exploring possible responses.  I think that 'grappling with wisdom' is somehow similar.

Over the last year or so, I think I have been so busy getting on with personal and practical matters that there hasn't been so much grappling, rather I've had to draw on the resources of grappling in past seasons.  I don't think that's wrong, but it is limited... To change metaphors, if you keep drawing from unreplenished wells, they will, eventually run dry.  So I am taking myself in hand and setting out to be far more intentional in seeking out places and spaces for a bit of 'grappling' as well as refreshment and renewal.

This will begin on Friday, with a day trip to Manchester for a creative writing day (eek! never done that before) cum quiet day (which was what attracted me) for Epiphany.  I am quietly excited at the prospect of being challenged and nourished... grappling with wisdom, searching for her until the end.

Today I am back at work (no tellings off please) and therefore back into the rhythm of starting my day with 'Pray As You Go' (PAYG), which today focussed on John 1: 19 - 28 and the question asked of John the Baptist, "who are you?" The listener was then invited to ponder how they might answer the same question, "who are you?"

Who am I? This is, so I am told, one of the key questions to which humans seek to find a satisfactory answer, and the motivator for much philosophical and religious thought. 

Who am I?  How do I identify, define or perceive myself?

In the time allocated, the words/phrases that popped up in my head (and which I wrote because I knew if I didn't I'd forget them, and I wanted to be able to ponder them a little more) were, in this order ...

Catriona

Woman

Jesus follower

Daughter

Sister

Minister

God-mother

One who tries her best

There were other words/phrases that I felt less comfortable to note down, not because I am ashamed of or embarrassed by them but because they felt more loaded, more conditioned by external factors than internal...

Cancer 'survivor' (this one is very loaded, I don't like the teminology and feel ambivalent about adopting it as a self-descriptor)

Pioneer (a term used by others to describe who I am and what I do, again loaded with expectations actual or perceived, my own or those of others)

Volunteer

Failure - this one needs unpacking!  I don't mean that I see myself in a negative light, as someone who has failed to achieve what may reasonably be expected (though I do have moments when I feel useless, stupid and inadequate), rather I mean someone who fails, who has learned to take some risks and attempt things that may not succeed and to be (reasonably) okay with that.

In the Bible reading, the people who came to John arrived with a series of plausible answers in mind...

Are you the Messiah?

Are you Elijah?

Are you The Prophet?

To each of these, his answer was 'no'.  When pressed his answer was, essentially, "I'm the one Isaiah was on about, the one crying in the wilderness...."

Whilst PAYG invited the listener to ponder what their wilderness might be, I found myself drawn instead to the 'Other People's Expectations' - the options they came to explore.

And this seemed to resonate more for me, and seemed to allow me to explore a little further the 'cancer survivor' and 'pioneer' descriptors...

At one level, it is simply a fact that, nearly six and a half years on from a not exactly great cancer diagnosis, I am disease free, fit and healthy.  I have beaten the 'worst' stats I found at the time, in so far as I remain in the 'good part' - other friends have not been as fortunate, so there is inevitably a chastened optimism and residual uncertainty; long term drug side effects continue to affect daily life but at least I am here to bemoan them!  But there is another level, in part of my own making, because I chose to be 'public' about the whole experience, and which is summed up in a snippet of conversation about me that I overheard whilst at a conference.  One delegate had spotted me and was saying something about me to their companion.  The bit I overheard was, "so is she the one that had cancer?" In that moment some vague feelings I'd had for some time coalesced... that is who I am for some (quite a lot) of people - I am "the minister who had cancer and survived"... I am, it seems, some kind of icon or trophy or possibly (for others who have a rotten experience of treatment) an expletive deleted nuisance... look, there she is, the minister who had cancer.  Of course I am happy to be a 'good news story', and being able to support and 'walk alongside others' in their own journeys is a huge and rewarding privilege.  But there is a weight of expectation... I have to stay well.  I have to knock those odds into a cocked hat.  I have to be the 'miracle' of modern medicine.  Which is tough, because I have clay feet, occasional wobbles and a dread of letting people down.  It has taken six years for me to reach a place where I dare to consider a long term future, and even then it remains quite tentative (but for the record, I yesterday expressed a retirement plan to be 'chaplain to cats' on a mediterranen island!).

Pioneer is a term that a wise and trusted friend uses to describe my role... the "first ordained female Baptist minister in sole pastoral charge of a church in Scotland"... still, even after seven years... Most of the time it's something to which I sit quite lightly: it doesn't make any difference day to day whether I am first or thousand-and-first.  But it does prove quite weighty in the wider Scottish Baptist scene... a real sense of responsibility that, put bluntly, if I screw up that's the whole thing set back by another fifty years.  Some strange tensions, times of huge isolation and loneliness, moments of intense joy, opportunities to make a difference... and to foul it all up.  Not a label I would choose, not a role to which I would ever have aspired - but it is what I am.

I think where my thoughts end up is with a recognition that, "who are you" or, "who am I", is a complicated question informed by internal and external factors, context and culture.

John the Baptist saw himself as one who called out to others from a 'wilderness' (literal or  metaphorical). Sometimes being this strange status of being "the first ordained woman minister (who had cancer) in sole pastoral charge of a church in Scotland" can feel a bit wilderness like but it becomes doable because in the end this is not what actually defines who I am...

I am Catriona, woman, Jesus follower, accepted and loved by God just as I am, and, ultimately, that is all that matters.

Every New Year, I take a few minutes to hunt out a copy of Wesley's Covenant Prayer and then pray it afresh.

It is probably, for me, the most beautiful and the most demanding prayer I ever use.  To pray it honestly is risky, scary... God might just hold me to what I have pledged, my year might be difficult and painful and empty rather than healthy, happy and fulfilled, but however it works out, I pledge myself afresh to trust in God who is faithful, dependable and present even when silent, ever when seemingly absent.

Always a trepidatious moment, then as I say these words...

I am no longer my own, but thine.

Put me to what thou wilt, rank me with whom thou wilt.

Put me to doing, put me to suffering

Let me be employed for thee or laid aside for thee,

exalted for thee or brought low for thee.

Let me be full, let me be empty.

Let me have all things, let me have nothing.

I freely and heartily yield all things to thy pleasure and disposal.

And now, O glorious and blessed God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit,

thou art mine, and I am thine.

So be it.

And the covenant which I have made on earth, let it be ratified in heaven.

Amen.

The Marmite jigsaw was a birthday present. It's double sided... On the front is a photo of a jar of Marmite, on the back a Warhol style montage of colourful Marmite jars.

I completed it with the large image upwards... not easy and there were parts of the neck of the jar where I. "cheated" and assembled small areas upside down. Having completed the jigsaw, I carefully flipped it, to discover about a dozen pieces in completely wrong positions! A few minutes later and it was fixed, flipped and photographed. Great fun and totally blocked out any thoughts of church.

They tell me there's a sermon in every experience. Not sure about that, but it did seem like a half reasonable metaphor for an end of year reflection. You get to the end, look back, spot some bits that are not properly aligned, then there is time to recall the memories, realign the insights, re-evaluate, whatever it is. You can't change what's been but you can work it into the picture in a more constructive way.... Well, that's what it seems to say to me.

2016 has had it's share of challenges, struggles and disappointments, it has also had it's share of joys, happiness, laughter, love, good news  and more. As I sort the pieces and make a"jigsaw" of the year, the emergent picture is a good one.

Wishing all readers a peaceful, hopeful and healthy. 2017.