Today's lectionary readings:

Psalm 25

Daniel 9: 1 - 14

1 John 1:3-10

Because Lent is a season of penitence, and because we are right at the start of it, perhaps it is no surprise that the identification and confession of sin and guilt are strong themes in these readings.  Yet, it is too easy to read them seeing a kind of angry God wielding a big stick to punish those others whom we perceive as sinful... whoever 'they' might be.  It is too easy to fall into the trap popular among some Christians that says 'we won't be judged' because we have been 'saved'. Hmm. Not sure either of those is a valid reading of scripture in general and these passages in particular.

If you attend worship in a Church of England parish that uses Common Worship, it is more than likely that the lovely words from 1 John 1 will form part of the liturgy:

This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light and in him there is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with him while we are walking in darkness, we lie and do not do what is true; but if we walk in the light as he himself is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin. If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say that we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us. (1 John 1:3 - 10 NRSV)

Granted, the first and last sentences are stripped off in the Anglican liturgy, but the near poetry of the central section, prayerfully intoned by a priest to her/his people makes confession a less scary thing, God a more approachable God.

I had to re-read the Daniel a couple of time to find that this same gracious, forgiving God is referred to, amidst the far more scary allusion to calamity as the consequence of sinfulness.  By contrast, the Psalm is quite bold and confident in its approach to God, and whilst it includes an element of confession, suggests a comfortable relationship with God.

One big challenge we face as Christians is, I think, how to find the middle ground that trusts in God's mercy and forgiveness without drifting into a lazy 'anything goes' mentality.  How do we avoid judgementalism at one extreme, as if somehow your sins are worse than my sins, and complicity at the other, as if there is no such thing as sin?  Some stuff around at the moment is giving me much pause for thought here, as I hear ugly language of 'depravity' and 'abomination' banded about lightly... How do I hear what lies behind the language in a way that is neither judgemental or complicit?  How do I find the Christlike response?

Me, a sinner?

Not me, Lord:

I know the law and obey it to the letter

(except the bits about clothes of mixed fibres, and prawn sandwiches, and tearing down mildewed houses...)

Not me, Lord:

I read my Bible every day and pray

(except when I am too tired or too busy or get a better offer or fall asleep)

Not me, Lord:

I do not steal or lie or kill or covet

(except time, except to protect myself, except with my words, except my neighbour's latest must-haves)

Not me, Lord:

I give to charity and to church, with Gift-Aid, 10% and more

(except the week the bills come in or I spot a bargain in the sales or fancy a little treat)

Not me, Lord:

I do not judge or criticise or condemn

(except them - the people who don't think like I do)

Me:

A Sinner

Lord:

Have mercy

Lord have mercy on me, a sinner

Amen.

If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

During Advent 2011, I undertook a discipline of writing daily an 'off the cuff' reflection on the Bible verses used in the Northumbria Community morning prayer cycle.  In the real world, I had a lot of positive feedback, people said they found it helpful and useful.  That encouraged me, not least because at times it was "flippin' hard work" trying to find something constructive to say.  However, despite the hard work, and despite the fact that I will probably at some point wonder why I decided to do it, I have decided to do something similar for Lent, but this time using the RCL daily readings.  Again, nothing deeply pondered, nothing clever, just my immediate 'reader response' to these ancient and powerful words.

Joel 2:1-2, 12-17 or Isaiah 58:1-12

Psalm 51:1-17

2 Corinthians 5:20b—6:10

Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

These must be some of the best known, and most overworked passages of scripture there are... in Joel a call to 'rend the heart not the clothes', in Isaiah the call to 'God's chosen fast' which equates to justice, in the Psalm David's confession and repentance following his adultery with Bathsheba, in the gospel the call to beware public piety and outward display but instead to pray privately and fast unobserved.  All these we know well.  To each of these we nod sagely in agreement.  And every one of them we struggle to live out.

I have not mentioned the epistle yet... it is a pretty well known chunk but not a neat reference to fasting, justice or piety:

So we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his appeal through us; we entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.

As we work together with him, we urge you also not to accept the grace of God in vain. For he says, ‘At an acceptable time I have listened to you, and on a day of salvation I have helped you.’
See, now is the acceptable time; see, now is the day of salvation! We are putting no obstacle in anyone’s way, so that no fault may be found with our ministry, but as servants of God we have commended ourselves in every way: through great endurance, in afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, riots, labours, sleepless nights, hunger; by purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, holiness of spirit, genuine love, truthful speech, and the power of God; with the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and for the left; in honour and dishonour, in ill repute and good repute. We are treated as impostors, and yet are true; as unknown, and yet are well known; as dying, and see - we are alive; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything. (2Cor5:20 - 6:10 NRSV)

If I remember correctly, the motto over the door of Bristol Baptist College says, in Greek (of course!) 'We are Ambassadors'... The image of the Ambassador as the generous host offering ferrero rocher chocolates is an unhelpful one, suggesting material wealth and opulent life-styles.  It is about as far removed from the image portrayed here as is possible.  These ambassadors for Christ  are also servants of God who have known life in the raw.  We need to be careful of elevating suffering as somehow evidence of piety, but I don't think that's what this passage says.  It seems more like a sense that the badge of the ambassador lies in the authenticity of struggle, the ability to empathise with others.  Sure, the writer waxes lyrical as he warms to his theme, but in here are very earthy things we can all relate to...

afflictions (perhaps illness/injury)

calamity

labour

sleepless nights (perhaps due to anxiety)

In these things, as well as in the overtly spiritual things, we are ambassadors, representatives in a 'foreign' culture for Christ.  Perhaps in Lent, as well as the 'giving up' and 'taking up', as well as the 'repenting' and 'preparing' we do do well to keep a bit of 'present-mindedness' in our own realities, whatever they are, knowing that God is a god of the whole of life.

Ash Wednesday,

Marked for some by a daub of cremated palm mixed with olive oil

Sign and symbol of a penitential season

Looking back to past Paschal observances

And forward to more.

Solemn beginning of the fast

The giving up

Abstaining

Eschewing

(For a while)

The pleasures of life

To try

(and probably to fail)

To be more holy

More ready

When Passiontide arrives

Ordinary day

In the middle of the week

When aches and pains

Anxieties and fears

Tragedies and accidents

Everyday tasks

And hum-drum routine

Occupy our waking hours

The Ambassador

Does not bear

Gleaming platters of foil wrapped sweets

(Lest she should spoil her guests)

But rolls up her sleeves

And plunges her hands into the washing up bowl

Or

Kneels in the dirt

And picks up the discarded flower

Laughs

Weeps

Eats

Sleeps

(or not)

This is the fast and this the feast

This piety in public and private space

This is Ash Wednesday

God of grace, at the beginning of Lent, show us, one step at a time, how we may walk confidently and unashamedly in the messy and grubby paths of life, as Ambassadors of Christ.  Amen.

Had my six-monthly checkup this morning and all is well... I am now officially NED for another six months.

The doctor I saw was great, very helpful and gave me some good suggestions regarding the joint problems... though max dose fish-oil mixed with long term chemo-brain side effects might finally turn me into a goldfish!  It was, for me, one of those grace-filled moments when the doctor I saw turned out to be someone who had formerly worked in rheumatology and both 'got' women with stiff/aching joints/tendons AND believed it was a Tamoxifen side effect (other people I am in contact with have doctors poo-pooing the idea).  So, need to get to the herbalist next the Gathering Place, or one of the chemists round the corner, to stock up on the things she told me to try.

But, whoopity whoop, I am still a Nedette!

The very first Shrove Tuesday I can recall was when I was just five years old and we had a day off school.  Why?  because at that stage I was at school in Olney, home of the famous annual pancake race. I remember nothing about the day, we certainly didn't go into Olney to see it, as we lived in a tiny village a few miles away, had no car, and it wasn't the day that buses ran (Wednesdays and Saturdays as far as I can recall).  I have no idea if we had pancakes (crepes) or pancakes (drop scones) at all.  Somehow I imagine in a household with four children, the eldest of whom was five, making pancakes was not even on the horizon that day!

A few years later, and living by now in Northamptonshire, we learned about the history and significance of Shrove Tuesday at school.  To this day I recall hearing about people going to the priest to be 'shriven', of the rush to consume alll that was 'fat' ahead of the long Lenten fast.

From the age of 15, with one exception (last year, when frankly I forgot until too late) I have 'given up' for Lent various degrees of luxury... the first year sugar in drinks (to which I never returned), usually sweets and chocolate, frequently cakes, biscuits and desserts, for at least fifteen years caffeine.  This year I am planning to revert to my middle course - no sweet stuff - and add to it no crisps or other frivolous, empty-calorie treats.  And instead I will be 'counting my blessings' with Christian Aid, another Lenten disicpline I've adopted over a number of years.

I have lost count of the number of Girls' Brigade pancake parties I've been involved with - one of the few occasions I stay out of the kitchen as pancake tossing is not a skill of mine - and I never tire of the fun the girls have stuffing their faces with as many as they possibly can (even if someone will always say in a whiny voice 'I don't like it'!)

Not got any pancakes planned today - one batch of batter is too much for one person and I'm not about to pay inflated prices for an supermarket or bakery ones.  I expect the poancake shop along from church will extra busy, so I won't be calling there either.  It matters not, I have plenty of other 'fatty foods' to consume in the spirit of the day before Lent starts tomorrow.

Hope you have a good Shrove Tuesday, whatever it involves.

Today I FINALLY took myself off to the new Glasgow Riverside Museum about which I have heard mixed reports.  It was a pleasant enough half day out for my day off, and at only about 15 mins walk from home a really easy one.

A lot of people have commented that they don't like the fact that most of the vehicular exhibits are mounted on the walls, and I tend to agree.  I mean, c'mon I went looking for the Metro (sad loser that I am) and it was on the top shelf... We'll skip over the fact that it was a 3 door 1986 model, not a gorgeous 5 door 1985 or 1997 model, and that it was egg-shell blue not midnight blue... ;-)  More disappointing was the number of really old, genuinely interesting vehicles on high shelves.  It felt more like a shoe shop than a transport museum!

One of the most popular aspects of the museum is the recreated streets.  The 'earliest' late 19th century one is super, but the two so-called streets for the 20th century were rather disappointing.  Given that it allegedly went up the the 1960s and 70s I expected to see more things I recognised... beyond a red phone box, some lego and ladybird books.

OK, so criticism is easy and cheap.  I did enjoy my morning there.  The museum is spacious and airy with plenty for children to do whilst there.  Views over and along the Clyde are superb (despite the weather being dreadful) and in summer there are plenty of picnic spots.  The cafe did a passable latte and the cake was perfectly acceptable and reasonably priced.

Because the weather was grim I opted to give a miss to the Tall Ship, but I will go back to see it.

Overall, I'm not sure about this as a transport museum.  It's a fabulous building, well-located and easy to get to, and I would go again... but not with the aim of seeing vehicles close up, for that I'd go somewhere else.