Evidently today is the feast of St Martha of Bethany... to my warped brain it seems a slightly strange idea that she would have a feast day especially given the bad press the church has generally given her throughout history.  But actually, I find myself rather pleased that she does get a feast day, a day to be feted and celebrated for who she was.

Those of you who have read this stuff for a while will know that I get very uppity about portrayals of Martha that are based on a poor synthesis of the Luke 10 and John 12 stories... OK so Martha was distracted but it doesn't say she was cooking dinner at the time.  And I also stress (ad nauseam) that in John 11 (the raising of Lazarus) it is Martha who names Jesus as Messiah.  I have blogged various explorations and reflections on this trio of stories, which I won't repeat here.  Suffice it to say, I am something of a Martha fan.

Without the 'Marthas' (and her 'sons') our churches would be in dire trouble... we depend so heavily on those who bake and make tea and polish brass and arrange flowers and move chairs and sweep steps and empty bins and, and, and... I get rather huffy with people who perceive themselves as too spiritual to muck in with the practical tasks, especially on a Sunday.  But actually, I like the idea of a feast day for Martha and her descendants, a day when they can sit down, enjoy a bit of TLC and be celebrated for who they are and what they bring.

Martha, sit down a moment...

No, not on that hard, kitchen chair, here in the soft welcome of the settee.

Martha, take a moment for yourself...

Put down the tea-towel, the duster, the broom; pick up a book or gaze through the window

Martha, have a little refreshment...

No, not the healthy apple or the plain biscuit, choose the sumptuous richness of Belgian chocolate or cream-filled gateau

Martha, take a moment to indulge...

Lay aside the list of jobs to be done, people to be helped; daydream, reflect, meditate, be

Martha this is your moment, your day...

No, not a recollection of your distractedness, but a celebration of your authenticity

Martha, homemaker, theologian*, sister, disciple...

We pause for a moment to see yourself in us, and to accept ourselves as we are, image bearers of the God of Jesus Christ, unique, loved, welcomed.

* Check John 11 for the theological discussion she had with Jesus at her brother's grave-side!

Picture of Martha borrowed from here

A comment I often find myself making when I work with a passage or diea for a sermon.

Today I've been working with Luke 15 and 16 ahead of Sunday's service, and, having been reminded of Luke's theme of the ptokoj (the poor), have been trying to read the parables in that light.  As I neared the last sentence of my draft sermon, I recalled the verse "the poor will always be with you" and tried to recall where it came from.  Three of the gospels have it; Luke is not one of them.  Hmmm.

OK, so everyone else already knew that, but I hadn't spotted it until now.

Usually I quite like the BUGB e-news sweep, it is often useful and sometimes funny.  Today it made me swear.  Now you have to appreciate I don't often do swearing, it's not in my make-up!  So why did it make me swear?  Because it linked a Daily Mail article with these words:

Miracle? Cancer-stricken father defies odds and beats disease by stopping chemo - because God told him to

With a ten per cent chance of survival, he needed a miracle - and that's exactly what God gave him

Now I am delighted for the man (in the US by the way) that his cancer has been healed, and I am prepared to accept that for some reason God chose to heal him, but for goodness sake let's be a bit responsible here.  How many Christians (or other people of faith) don't get 'healed' of their cancer (most) how many suffer excruciatingly until they die of secondaries (many) and how many live with the pressure of OPE that God will supernaturally heal them (more than a few).  For crying out loud, God gave us the skills of oncology and surgery and radiotherapy for a reason.

So listen up folks (I'm quite wound up, you can tell!) God has given me more through having cancer and being treated for it than any miracle healing would ever have done.  I've met amazing people, I've learned a lot about cancer, about myself, about others, about life, about faith.  I'd like to think, though physcially scarred, and with a 30% chance of still being here in a decade, that I am a more whole person now.

So please, do not throw away your chemo, your radiotherapy, your hormone therapy, your screening appointment card.

Today a friend of the Gathering Place is laid to rest after cancer claimed her life... she has ultimate healing as she enters eternal rest.

If praying is your thing, please pray for those whose work is caring for people with cancer or researching into into its causes and treatments

And if you want a miracle, then please pray for Annie who is 27, has aggressive stage 4 b.c. and exploring every option she can as she chooses life in its fulness (however long or short that may be).  Chemo and prayer - now that seems a much better mix to me.

BUGB e-news sweep I forgive you... even 70 x 7...

Rant Ends!

It has been a fiunny old week - why weeks become 'old' in this context I don't quite know, but there you go.  It has been one of those 'the whole of life is here' weeks, one in which the interruptions are the ministry and the sermon/service prep is incidental (it's Thursday and I know what I want to speak about, just haven't got anything on paper yet).

It has been a ministry of...

drinking tea and coffee, eating lunch, sending and receiving emails on diverse and sometimes complex pastoral and pracitcal matters, answering the phone, sorting through cupboards, finding craft activities, reading, dancing with joy, wondering 'why?', standing alongside those who weep, thinking 'should I?', laughing, sharing...

Yup, a funny old week, but one that serves to remind me why this is what I am, who I am, maybe even why I am.

Now I need to start playing catch-up!!

Back in the early 1980s I was one of the countless students of London University who worshipped at All Souls, Langham Place (I went there in the evenings; in the morning I went to Westbourne Park Baptist Church when it was small and traditional).  There I would often listen, rapt, to the measured tones of John Stott, one of the greatest expositors of our time.  I recall little of what he said (it was 30 years ago give or take) but I do remember there was one sermon about the God who has come, who is coming and who will come, which I found fascintating and my friends found bewildering... maybe I should have read the signs even then?!  Like many people of my age, my bookcase has a few John Stott works on it and, even though maybe I don't always agree with him, his writing is that of a thoughtful and spiritual man.

News has come through today that he has died.  That he now knows the fulfilment of the promises he preached so faithfully, I am sure.  That he will be missed, I am certain.

As it happens, a book I am scheduled to begin reading includes a chapter by this gentle giant, so there will be a little poignancy in the reading thereof (even if, I suspect, I will take issue with some of what he wrote).

He lived a long and fulfilling life, and I am sure blessed countless people along the way.  Now may he rest in peace.

 All Souls announcement and tribute can be found here