Today's PAYG focussed on part of Hebrews 7, Jesus as a priest in the order of Melchizedek, and asked, among other things, how the listener saw priesthood.  An interesting question for a Jesuit to ask a Baptist, I felt!  My immediate response was our, often ill-understood, priesthood of all believers self-understanding which we often have the audacity to assume no-one else has.  It was explained to me, a long time ago, as "I'll be your priest and you'll be mine."  Which is all fine and dandy if you know what you think a priest is or does.

For me, a human priest is not an icon of Christ, though even as I type that I am aware that we glibly speaking of seeing Christ in others, so maybe we are in some way 'signposts' towards Christ.  The metaphor I find more helpful is the pontifical one - the priest as a bridge between people and God, earth and heaven.  No, I don't mean that we need a human intermediary to God, that would be contra all that Christianity teaches, just that there is some value in the metaphor.  If "I'll be your bridge and you'll be mine" means something like "I'll help you on your journey Godwards and you'll help me on mine" then it works for a Baptisty kind of perspective.

Hebrews 7 describes the High Priest that is Jesus as

"... holy, blameless, undefiled, separated from sinners, and exalted above the heavens.
Unlike the other high priests, he has no need to offer sacrifices day after day, first for his own sins, and then for those of the people; this he did once for all when he offered himself. " (Heb 7:26b-27, NRSV)

I find I baulk at this a bit when I think then of human 'priests' who are, let's face it ordinary believers, frail and failing.  I'm not so keen on the 'separated from sinners' bit either - how does that fit with being salt and light?  What kind of priests, what kind of bridges, are we?  As I tried to think of real life bridges I thought maybe we are like the 'Squinty Bridge' at a bit of an angle to 'true' or the 'Millennium Bridge' that wobbled?  Then came to mind the fairy tale of the three billy goats gruff and the 'rickety-rackety bridge' over which the goats went, trit-trot, trit-trot (at least in the version I knew and loved).  Quite what a rickety-rackety bridge might look like is in the eye of the reader/hearer yet we all instinctively know that it is a bit wobbly, a bit wonky... and the way to the lush pastures beyond.  I'll not push the metaphor too far, but I think it is how I imagine a priest within the context of a congregational ecclesiology... I'll be a rickety-rackety bridge for you and you'll be a rickety-rackety bridge for me.

What d'you reckon?

To "Brian" is a verb known only to former NBC students of a certain era, when one of our tutors, whose first name was Brian, took immense delight in finding links between people - interconnectedness to give it it's posh title.  For Brian and I the connections were (a) that he had been 'senior friend' to my then minister and (b) that his former church secretary had worked for me in industry.  The 'Brian' links go way beyond the ubiquitous 'six degrees of separation.'  For example, my then minister trained alongside the person who now co-pastors a church with my then nextdoor neighbour whose uncle worked with someone who worked for me... and so it goes on.

Today's bit of Brianing arises from the latest BMJ (Baptist not medical version) and an article on church health.  A couple of years back I was invited to join a group looking at Baptist congregational health in the East Midlands and, as resident expert (she says modestly!) based on my research reading passed a bibliography to the group.  Today the article I read clearly emerged from that reading, so told me nothing new (even if it is published ahead of my research!) but it led me to a spot Brianing.  The author is the sucessor at his church to the person who was my predecessor at the Gathering Place.  However, he is soon to move to a church Leicester (it's public knowledge so I can say it; think Bricklike Portal) where (a) I once preached with  a squint (in 2003) and (b) one of the Gatherers worshipped as a student in the 1980s.  This minister is also my successor as BMF rep for East Midlands, so there's some near circular Brianing in there somewhere.

All good fun, for me anyway.

In that way that only God can do, a few things have linked together.  The sermon from Sunday, the BUGB e-news sweep and yesterday's Bible reading which was Psalm 73, a pretty classic 'disorientation' psalm in Brueggeman's scheme.

One of the sets of notes said that the writer was filled with a sense of injustice until he went to the 'sanctuary' (Temple, holy place, presence of God) where he became aware of the ultimate fate of the bad people who seemed to prosper.  Then, it seems, he felt better and was able to re-centre himself Godwards.

I struggle a bit with this.  Bad things happen to good people; good things happen to bad people, so far I agree, it fits my observations.  But  this assertion that it's OK, bad people will get their comeuppance, all too often interpreted as 'they will burn in hell', hmm.  I think I'd rather bad people were enabled to recognise their faults, to repent and to find their hope in the truth of Christ's redemption.

What I admire about the psalm is its brutal honesty, naming injustice, speaking anger, even acknowledging the writer's own 'brute beast' attitude.  But, do I want bad things to happen to bad people?  No.  I'm not sure comeuppance equals justice.

Psalm 73: 16 - 20 (NRSV)

But when I thought how to understand this, it seemed to me a wearisome task,
until I went into the sanctuary of God; then I perceived their end.
Truly you set them in slippery places; you make them fall to ruin.
How they are destroyed in a moment, swept away utterly by terrors!
They are like a dream when one awakes; on awaking you despise their phantoms.

Psalm 73: 16 - 20 CJMG-reorientated

But when I thought how to understand this, it seemed to me a wearisome task,
until I went into the sanctuary of God; then I perceived their end:
God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us. (Rom 8:5)
One man's act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all. (Rom 8:18b)

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. (1 Jn 1:8-9)

May they know these truths and "Hear then the words of grace 'go and sin no more'." (words of absolution, Common Worship)

I kind of feel that's more hope-filled without denying the reality of injustice and suffering

Today's BUGB e-news sweep links this article which talks about Christians who see themselves as 'marginalised', for which read 'discriminated against.'  What annoys me about most of the examples is they are people who don't even seem to understand why their claims are nonsensical, notably those who get uppity about being told not to wear crosses.

Like many of those cited, I wear a cross and have done for most of my adult life.  The one I now wear, and have worn for the last seven years, was an ordination present from a Scottish friend (nice little link/irony there).  Whilst I like wearing it, there are plenty of times when I don't, for all sorts of reasons, and it's no big deal.  And it's no big deal because I know and understand that crosses and the wearing thereof have no significant role in Christianity.  Too many of the people who get hoity toity about being told not to wear them don't understand that unlike Sikhs (especially) and Muslims (often) there is no religious requirement to wear a cross; the comparison is invalid.  Being told you can't wear a cross and chain on health and safety grounds is no different from being told you can't wear any other necklace.  As it happens, I also wear an SOS talisman on the same chain as my cross - I reckon I could make a far better case for wearing something that carries important medical information than a piece of (apologies) pseudo-religious jewellery.

The various examples of B&B owners are, so far as I can ascertain, examples of what amounts to law-breaking, though it may be a 'grey area', certainly it would be law-breaking for a hotel.  I am pretty sure these fine upstanding Christians have welcomed many guests who were co-habiting heterosexual couples, whether they knew it or not - I suspect, apart from anything else, they are being inconsistent in their taking of moral high ground.  As for how you can claim to be marginalised because you offer a public service and then withhold it, I am not so sure.  On the topic of B&Bs my walking friend and I had a near opposite experience when booking accommodation last summer... trying to book two singles or a twin room, one establishment offered us a double...  Is that the opposite kind of discrimination?!  (No, we found it quite funny and the landlady did suggest several other venues).

Finally, I am forced to ask myself, notably in the light of things such as Jim's post today whether all this Christian POM Disease (Poor Old Me) is based on a failure to understand our calling?  If we are called, somehow or other, to participate in Christ's sufferings then we ought to be expecting not just a bit of (perceived) marginalisation but some actual struggle as our counter-cultural, welcoming of the outcast, seeking of Shalom, lifestyle bewilders and bothers wider society.  I think it is pretty insulting to those Christians who really are persecuted that we who enjoy religious freedom enshrined in law get uppity about silly things like decorative lumps of metal and/or assert our 'rights' over and above others who live law-abiding, if different, lifestyles from our own (let them be Jews, let them be Turks... etc.  Baptist historical self-understanding; might that today equally say let them cohabit, let them be in civil partnerships? (and do I get struck off for asking the question?))

Jesus seemed to like the margins and those who were found there.  Perhaps we should rejoice rather than moan when we feel marginalised?

The best laid plans of mice, men and ministers go awry, that is just the way of things.  My grand plan for how to use my ordinary time went out of the metaphorical window when the cold/infection struck last week.  Whilst I am now much better, I still have a cough and limbs made of lead, and my good intentions need to be rediscovered.  Ah well. As my old boss used to say there's a difference between 'plans' and 'planning'... I think I kind of get what he meant.

Technically I am in a 'week 3' - although I reached the top of Mt Chemo on 31st December I don't formally finish being in the last cycle until Thursday/Friday.  I would have to say I am glad this is the only week 3 where I have felt below par because they are actually a precious time during the climb.  So far as I can ascertain, almost all chemo regimes have week 3 "off".  It is a 'rest week' during which no drugs are given and the patient's body is not being bombarded by weird and wonderful effects: no dips in energy, taste buds recover, aches go away, blood can start to recover... time to enjoy a bit of 'normality.'  Certainly I found my other 'week 3' experiences to be good, albeit interrupted by consultant appointments and with the knowledge that the next 'bend' was imminent; time to do things I wanted to do and have a few treats.  Early in the process I found a research paper, I think from France, of a clinical trial that had attempted to remove 'week 3'.  It had proved a disaster and had been abruptly halted as all, or almost all, patients became sick... the rest is needed not a luxury.  So it's a bit like a Sabbath then...

I had already decided I would post about this today before I listened to today's PAYG which centred on Mark 2:23 - 28 and notably "the sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the sabbath" (Mk2: 27 NRSV).  The reflection was to a large extent about legalism and the risk of missing the point.  I found this intriguing at a time when I am sure that strict rule-following has kept me both safe and well.  Where is the line to be drawn?  I am looking forward in the next few weeks to beginning to relax some of the restrictions as they become redundant (though some new ones will replace them!) but that's not the same as bending or breaking the rules.  It's really easy to see the legalism in the extremes cited in the gospels but not so easy to work out the fuzzy line in our own time.

Week 3s and Sabbaths are given for the benefit of the humans, they are there for rest, restoration, relaxation not for angst, anxiety and ascetic-abstention.  This week will include one or two treats, especially as a former nurse has assured me that chocolate is good for coughs, but it will also adhere to the sensible rules that keep me healthy.  I have a suspicion the same principle applies to Sabbaths too.