Regular readers of this blog will have grown accustomed to the sight of the 'sponsor me' button on the right hand of this blog.  Well in a little over two months, this years event - the Ben Nevis Challenge' will be taking place.  I am really looking forward to meeting the other 100 or so walkers, some living with or beyond breast cancer, some supporting or remembering loved ones affected by it, some health-care professionals, and so on.  As part of the 'contract' I have to raise at least £500, and I'd love to raise more if I can, because it is a really good cause.

To augment my fundraising, I am holding a coffee morning and bring 'n' buy sale at the end of July.  I have lots of ideas for cakes and bakes, but today I decided to hit the shops for pink-themed items for my bring 'n' buy stall.

Those who know the real me, rather than the blog persona, will know that, despite owning a lovely fuchsia coloured suit, I do not, in general 'do' pink... I am not a pink and fluffy girl, always more the odd mix of a domesticated, pony-tailed tomboy really.

So why pink then?

Cancer (and other health related) awareness ribbons come in various colours, and breast cancer got pink.  As far as I can ascertain, it was originally a nice peach colour, but once it became widespread, it morphed in to more of a Barbiefied colour, to the eternal chagrin of many affected by this unpredictable disease which is so not pink or fluffy either.

Be all that as it may, pink is the colour, and fundraising the game, so this morning I went rather mad in Poundland and The Works (still have to visit Home Bargains)...

If you know me in the real world, I'd be thrilled if you felt able to sponsor me (follow the Justgiving link)

If you are in or around Glasgow and free on the morning of 28th July, do pop in to the Gathering Place for excellent Fairtrade coffee/tea/herbals and lovely sweet and savoury home-baking.

Or at least paper 'carnations' and other miscellaneous flora...

This morning I have been making prototype paper flowers ahead of Sunday's service - they needed to be quick and easy and suitable for people aged 3-8 to make.

I'm not overly impressed with the 'carnations' (white and gold) but I quite like the cake case flowers

Options

1. Use one muffin size cake case and one cupcake (normal) size case.  Put the larger one inside the smaller one.  Either scrunch and then tape to a wooden kebab skewer, or poke the skewer through the centre of the cakes and then scrunch and tape. (Large two tone flowers in picture)
2. Use three mini cases, one inside the other inside the other.  Pierce with kebab stick, scrunch, tape and then spread out 'petals' (small pink flowers in picture)
3. Use four mini cases, scrunch and tape to the 'side' of a kebab stick rotating a querter turn and adding each a little lower down with sticky tape.  This is the most fiddly! (small blue flower, centre front)

With small people beware the dangers of sharp pointy sticks... either cut off the points or cover them with tape, modelling clay or a chuck of eraser.  Don't want any accidents!

Today's PAYG focused on the calling of Levi (Matthew) and Jesus falling foul of the authorities for dining with tax-gatherers and 'sinners'.  As listener, I was invited to imagine myself at a meal hosted by Jesus, to which all the people who really annoy, anger or irritate me were invited.  All the people who wind me up.  All the people I perceive as 'bad' or 'less good than me' anyway.  This image was then the focus for prayer.  I found it helpful and challenging.

I wonder who would have me on their list of annoying people?  Who would see me as 'less good' and be surprised that Jesus would invite me dine?

The heavenly banquet of which we speak so glibly will have far more in common with this purgatorial (or even hellish) counterpart tyhan perhaps I would like to think.  Golly, I'm glad I'm not sorting out THAT table plan.

Yesterday's post in response to the Amos reading was an honest attempt to reflect on the fact that, if we take scripture seriously, sometimes it unsettles us.  Sometimes it seems to be very much an 'all or nothing' response that is required.  Sometimes we are reminded of our duty to serve the 'least of these' and we feel guilty for a few days before normality overtakes us once more.  Or maybe it's just me - but I don't think so.

In preparing for Sunday's service, I have been pondering some of Jesus parables of tiny things packed full of potential for good, as found in Mark 4.  Seeds that are little more than specks, yet packed with all that is needful to become a huge shrub or a tree, if the conditions are right.

Holding these two in tension - the 'give it all away', and the 'do something small but full of potential' has been interesting to say the least.  I can't say I've got it tidily reconciled in my mind.  But the 'do something small' does seem to have at least two provisos... it must be something jam packed with potential, and it must be nurtured, whether by me or others, if that potential is to be fulfilled.

This is not simply 'acts of random kindness' nor 'paying it forward' (pace Roots), it has a distinct intentionality about it.  It is about small things that have significant potential; small things that can, given long enough, grow and blossom into something far more wide-reaching than I/we will ever know.  I can bore for Britain on the analogy of the National Forest in the English midlands, but it works for me... The planting of trees that will reach maturity only after everyone involved in planting them is long dead and buried.  A vision that begins small, with vulnerable saplings and tiny seeds, but, given the right conditions will grow into a haven for wildlife and a recreational space for humans.

So, not all or nothing, but always something, and always the best it can be... is that a viable middle course consistent with the Kingdom of God?  I hope it might be.

Today's PAYG centred on familiar words from Amos 5:14-15, 21-24

Seek good and not evil, that you may live; and so the LORD, the God of hosts, will be with you, just as you have said.  Hate evil and love good, and establish justice in the gate; it may be that the LORD, the God of hosts, will be gracious to the remnant of Joseph.

I hate, I despise your festivals, and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies.  Even though you offer me your burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept them; and the offerings of well-being of your fatted animals I will not look upon.  Take away from me the noise of your songs; I will not listen to the melody of your harps.  But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.

I think what struck me afresh was the challenge to our religious institutions, our preoccupation with structures and buildings, the relentless publishing of new song book (SOF 5 has joined my bookshelf), the programmes for this, that and the next thing and so on and so forth.  Many of these things are good.  But just suppose God is saying

I hate, I despise your Assemblies, Synods, Conferences, whatever you call them.  Even though you write beautiful liturgies and preach eloquent sermons I'm not interested.  Even if you tithe to the last farthing on pay day, so what?  Away with your worship groups, your PowerPoint, your Nooma videos, your Bible study guides, your debates, your rotas.  Stop all this religiosity and get your hands dirty...

And those troublesome words of Jesus to the rich young man... sell all you have and give the money to the poor.

Sell your church buildings, realise your assests, and give it all away.  Spend yourselves on justice, on relieving the suffering of the poorest of the poor, the people on the margins of the margins...

Ooh er missus!  You don't mean me, God, do you?  Not us?  I mean to say, we need our premises, our savings, our structures, our rhythms, our piety, our comfortable religion.  You don't mean me, do you?

What would happen if the churches took God seriously?  What would happen if we stood back, identified the ridiculous surpluses we have (of property, of savings, of talent, of hierarchy, of bloody-mindedness) and released even a fraction of that for the purposes of justice? (yes, I think some bloody-mindedness could be useful in the cause of justice!)

I am forced to accept that I live a very domesticated kind of Christianity, that allows me to live in a lovely flat, serve a loving church and live a rather charmed life.  But do my choices please God?  Do yours?  Do ours?

How long will I be rattled by this?  How soon will I settle back to my cozy routines?  If I am honest, not long enough and far too quickly.