This week has been characterised by remembering... making a photographic Memory Book for my mother (the photo above is her in her 20s travelling to or from the USA), and researching and writing a tribute for a  funeral. Each of these has been a strange blend of enormous privilege and huge responsibility.  Each has also prompted a lot of my own memories, about my own life thus far, about the joys and sorrows, successes and failures, the things that have shaped - or I have allowed to shape - my personality.  So it's also been a bit of an introspective week, one way and another.

One of my memories was of the poem cited below.  It is a memory prompt in its own right - I first came across it in a Lent Study back in the 1980s, and I am pretty sure my recollection of the church hall where we met is correct.  It struck me then, and it continues to stirke me every time I recall or read it...

One day, should I live long enough, I may well be a 'crabbit old woman', which is partly why I want to share it.  If this might be my 'destiny' then it also impacts on my now, the way I live, write, speak or whatever it is: I make my memories, and form those of me in others.

What do you see, nurse, what do you see?
What are you thinking, when you look at me?
A crabbit old woman, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, with far-away eyes,
Who dribbles her food and makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice,
I do wish you'd try.
Who seems not to notice the things that you do
And forever is loosing a stocking or shoe.
Who, unresisting or not; lets you do as you will
With bathing and feeding the long day is fill.

Is that what you're thinking,
Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes,
nurse, you're looking at me.

I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still!
As I rise at your bidding, as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of 10 with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters, who loved one another-
A young girl of 16 with wings on her feet,
Dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet,
A bride soon at 20- my heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows that I promised to keep.
At 25 now I have young of my own
Who need me to build a secure happy home;
A woman of 30, my young now grow fast,
Bound to each other with ties that should last;
At 40, my young sons have grown and are gone,
But my man's beside me to see I don't mourn;
At 50 once more babies play around my knee,
Again we know children, my loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead,
I look at the future, I shudder with dread,
For my young are all rearing young of their own.
And I think of the years and the love that I've known;
I'm an old woman now and nature is cruel-
Tis her jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body is crumbled, grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone where I once had a heart,
But inside this old carcass, a young girl still dwells,
And now and again my battered heart swells,
I remember the joy, I remember the pain,
And I'm loving and living life over again.
I think of the years all too few- gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last-

So open your eyes, nurse, open and see,
Not a crabbit old woman, look closer-
See Me.

These last four chapters of Exodus (I cheated and scanned ahead before I did my close reading) describe the making and erecting of the Tabernacle.  The text is highly detailed and repeats much of what Moses is recorded as having been told by God whilst he was on the mountain, so it is quite tempting to skim over it especially when some of it turns into the "church accounts" measured in gold, silver and bronze.

There are however things to be gleaned, if one has the time or inclination to dig a little deeper.

Bronze Mirrors

"Bronze Mirror" was the title of one my reading books at primary school - I remember nothing about it, except that it comprised myths and legends of Greek and maybe Roman origin.  These polished metal mirrors are alluded to in 1 Corinthians as the means by which we may glimpse "a dim reflection", a poor image and yet one that is worth seeing.

In the account of what is brought for the making of the Tabernacle, one detail is that the women who served at the edge of the tent of meeting brought their bronze mirrors.  These were melted down and used to make the basin which was to be used by the priests to wash their hands as part of their ritual purification.

The women chose to relinquish something that they valued, and that had allowed them to see their own image, presumably to tend their appearance, something associated with beauty and perhaps self esteem.  With no mirrors they had no way of checking what they looked like, which may have been a challenge for some of them... even I like to check I'm not too dishevelled before I go out or when I come in! 

I'm not quite sure what a contemporary equivalent might be, but I am intrigued by the idea of letting go of something that is associated with beauty or appearance in order that it be transformed into something used for purification or within worship.  I suspect, though, that were I to arrive at church looking like I'd been dragged through a hedge backwards, there would be - totally legitimate - comments!! ;-)

Many a mickle... or, Every Little Helps

A good chunk of the text is taken up with details about how mucc gold, silver and bronze was donated for the work.  Expressed in Talents, Shekels and Bekas it can seem a bit meaningless.  So I did a bit of digging around on the web and discovered that:

1 Talent = 3000 Shekels

1 shekel weighs roughly 10g

So, in contemporary measures that means

roughly 877kg gold

roughly 3018kg silver (just over three tonnes)

roughly 2124kg bronze (a little over two tonnes)

Huge quantities, and clearly equivalent to an awful lot of money in today's terms, even with fluctuating metal prices.

But wait, there is an easily overlooked detail... the silver is donated by the men aged 26 and over counted in the census - numbered as 603,550.  The average amount per person is therefore half a shekel - called a beka - or roughly 5g.  According to one website I  looked at, 5g of finest quality silver has a scrap value of about £1.50.  Irrespective of the purchasing power, that's not a lot of money.  Yet when everyone gave their £1.50 worth of silver... Many a mickle maks a muckle, every little helps... we know this, yet still sometimes it's good to be reminded of it.  I for one can be guilty of focussing on the huge sums that required for projects to the detriment of valuing the 'mickles' or the 'bekas' that mount up.  There is balance somewhere - simply, and solely, collecting pennies is probably not going to finance a building project or fund a mission worker, however well intentioned.  At the same time, focussing on big numbers can disempower those who would gladly give their half a shekel, or their bronze mirror...

Again, it's the details that are so easily overlooked that are striking.  A reminder that the little things matter, the 'little people' matter and their gifts are often, as with the widow and her two tiny mites, the most valuable of all.

This week, possibly prompted by my reading of the Exodus story and the nomadic, wandering existence of the Hebrew people, I found myself recalling how long I'd lived in various places... and however I count it, six and a half years in Glasgow is the third longest, with "Dibley" a close fourth.

Longest at one address:

1. Burtonwood, Warrington (11 years)
2. Duston, Northampton (9 years)
3. Glasgow (6.5 years)
4. "Dibley" (5.75 years)

Anyone who is hanging on in there with this I commend you.  Even though I'm enjoying this close read of Exodus, I can see that the repetition of themes and ideas and the self-evident melding of multiple sources can make this a bit of a slog.

Sabbath Keeping - Yet Again

The first thing Moses is recorded as doing after this (second) extended period of absence is to remind people about the need to keep the Sabbath.  The more times I read this, the more I become convicted that here is something I need to take on board.  I could get very boring here saying what I've already said on previous days, so I'll try not to repeat myself.

Simply to note that I am reassured that the ancients seem to have struggled with this in their, seemingly much simpler, lives, and that I am challenged to recover/discover a better practice of Sabbath for myself.

To Give and/or To Do

Central to the project of creating the Tabernacle and its accoutrements is the shared commitment of the people.  Those of a generous heart are to give materially, those who are skilled are to employ their abilities... "And they came, everyone whose heart was stirred, and everyone whose spirit was willing".

Nothing radical or new here, just a sensible and practical means of achieving the project.  Significantly, there is no manadated giving, no demand that anyone should offer their labour.  Rather, those who feel led, called, convicted, moved, inspired, whatever it is, offer what they are able to offer - whether that is gold or gems or fabric or skills in working with wood or metal or yarn.

The details are worth noting...

The skilful women spun blue, purple and crimson yarn...

The women whose hearts were moved spun goats' hair...

There seems to have been a shared sense of purpose that valued every contribution.  It wasn't 'better' to spin fine yarn for the inner curtains than to spin goats hair for the outer ones, each was needed and both were valued.  To recognise the skills of another does not  confer status nor does it demean others: different but of equal worth.   It's easy to say, but not always so easy to do - how often I find myself envying others whose skills with words are so much better than mine, whose natural rapport with people and ability to defuse tension I would love to emulate but, try as I might, cannot.  It's a reminder to me to do the things I can do, and let others do the things I can't.  I suspect it's also a reminder more generally to reflect on those skills and gifts we applaud and those we dismiss... The Temple needed spinners of goats hair and spiiners of fine yran, each was equally important and, for now anyway equally valued.

Paul's body image for the Church is similar... so as I make connections, I am left with plenty to ponder yet again!

Training Others

Bezalel and Oholiab were selected as the finest craftsmen and put in charge of the work.  In an almost throw away sentence, we discover that part of that work was to teach/train others in the necessary skills.

Sometimes I can be so busy 'doing' that I don't take or make the time to look around for others whose potential could, and should, be developed.  Sometimes it is easier just to get on and do it myself than to take the time to work collaboratively - even though I love to do so, and even though the rewards are huge.

In other places and at other times, I encountered loyal servants of churches whose approach was very much "my way or the highway", an attitude I both understood, these people did a fantastic job, and resented because it denied others an opportunity to try.  It can be really hard to stand back and let someone else have a go, to give them space to do things their way, to make their own mistakes as well as to build their confidence, disocver their strengths and 'fly'.  I am struck by how easily I slide into a 'doing' role rather than an 'enabling' role; how much easier (if not easy) it is to 'delegate' or 'devolve' responsibilities and how much harder to 'develop' others.  This isn't me in self-flagellation mode, it's more me expressing the fact that often, in the busyness of 'doing church' it is easy to overlook the importance of 'building church'.

Stop! Enough Already...

I can honestly say that in all my years in churches I have never heard a minister or treasurer say to the people "stop giving we have more than we need".  I doubt very much any minister or treasurer ever has.  But it's what happens here.  The people keep on giving, and we can only speculate at what motivates them.  It becomes clear that there is more material than needed, so they are asked to stop.

And yet.

And yet, in every church I've been part of there have been those who kept on and on giving, volunteering for every rota, attending every training day or prayer day, giving and giving of themselves.  If I'm honest, and if my memory is accurate, I've rarely if ever heard anyone say to such people 'stop, you've given enough' and, even though I might exercise a note of concern or caution, I don't think I've ever said an outright 'no' to anyone.

Giving more than is needed can lead to burn out, illness, resentment and bitterness; learning as individulas when to say "enough already" or "stop" is an important lesson - and one I need to return too more often than perhaps I should!

So, in the building project there are hints of building community... that of itself is worth pondering.

One of the great events that BMS have organised in recent years is Catalyst Live, which is back, after a well earned rest, in the autumn of this year.  I love it so much I've booked my ticket already!

If any reader is interested, more details can be found here.