Last night I had the privilege of sharing in the final meeting of one of our church outreach meetings.  The main organiser had reached the point where he needed to step down and was wise enough to appreciate that he could not simply assume other would continue what he had been doing.  It was slightly strange saying the last prayer at a meeting I have hardly known - one that began when I was knee high to a grasshopper - and I could feel the mixed emotions of those present.

Back in the early 1970s there was very little available for those on the 'fringe' of polite society.  People who were unemployed (it was high back then, remember) homeless or had addiction problems wandered aimlessly on the streets, cold, hungry and seemingly unloved.  So it was that one of my predecessors, with a loyal core of helpers opened a room at church to offer food and friendship on a Friday.

The format has barely changed in almost forty years, but the world has. Even as we met in one room, one of two support groups for those with dependencies was meeting in the next room.  Even as we shared a tasty repast, it was clear that no one was hungry (a few a tad greedy maybe!).  The appetite for 'magic lantern' shows (even high tech magic lanterns) is long gone and what people really value is a good blether over a cuppa.  Most of those who come along now are elderly, and many slope off early to catch buses home.  It was - is - a healthy, natural end point for this work as it stands.

Over the summer some of us will be giving some thought to what next.  What are the needs of those who still came to the group (about 16 yesterday but sometimes as few as 8) and how can they best be served for the future.  But there are more radical questions too.  Poverty and homelessness haven't gone away, there are still occasional door-knockers and still folk who need a safe place out of the heat/rain/wind to rest awhile.  What the future shape will be, I don't yet know.  Perhaps now is our pruning season, when God cuts back and cleans branches that have been very fruitful so that new shoots can grow?

The person who led the closing worship used three psalms in the Message translation, Psalm 130, 124 and 134

Psalm 130:1 - 2

Help, God—the bottom has fallen out of my life! Master, hear my cry for help!
Listen hard! Open your ears!
Listen to my cries for mercy.

Psalm 124

If God hadn't been for us —all together now, Israel, sing out!—
If God hadn't been for us
when everyone went against us,
We would have been swallowed alive
by their violent anger,
Swept away by the flood of rage,
drowned in the torrent;
We would have lost our lives
in the wild, raging water.

Oh, blessed be God!
He didn't go off and leave us.
He didn't abandon us defenseless,
helpless as a rabbit in a pack of snarling dogs.

We've flown free from their fangs,
free of their traps, free as a bird.
Their grip is broken;
we're free as a bird in flight.

God's strong name is our help,
the same God who made heaven and earth.

Psalm 134

Come, bless God, all you servants of God!
You priests of God, posted to the nightwatch
in God's shrine,
Lift your praising hands to the Holy Place,
and bless God.
In turn, may God of Zion bless you—
God who made heaven and earth!

For everyone involved in the Friday group, there had been times of the bottom falling out of their world and this had been a place where they could be honest about that.  A great and Godly gift of space and welcome.

For many, but not all, let's not deceive ourselves, there had been trust in God, and as the psalmist said, had it not been for God (believed in or not) many would have been overhwelmed by events beyond their control.  There was cause for praise and thanksgiving.

In some way, and with less contriving than the speaker claimed, this had been a 'nightwatch' movement.  Physically, on a Friday night at the end of the week, and spiritually for those in the 'dark night of the soul.'

Some of those involved read this twaddle, most don't, but to all of them, I am grateful for the mission they have undertaken to follow God's call.  What difference it made in the lives of those who passed through the door may never be known, and many will never be found on a church on a Sunday morning, but nothing is ever wasted and that has to be enough.

Don't you love it when the Spirit moves us?  This video at David Kerrigan's blog so connects with my views on mission and ministry.  Course if you are offended by the idea of Jesus as a dancing nut, look away now!

No, not delusions of grandeur, that'd be the other guy, just the thought that comes into my head now and again, 'is this how God feels?'

You don't need a degree in detective skills to work out which church I was alluding to yesterday, or why it wound me up as it did.  But, having vented my spleen to a degree, I found myself wondering 'is this how God feels?'

I've never bought the idea of an immutable God, that is, a God who is unaffected emotionally by what happens on planet earth.  It seems unbiblical to say the least, and it plainly is not a God I'd want to worship.  I once raised a few eyebrows by asking if worship might not put a smile on the face of God, not because God needed to be cheered up, but because God actually was capable of joy and pleasure.  I've a sneaking suspicion I might be right!

Once I'd got over being annoyed and then sad, and then wondering if a lot of time and energy had been wasted (no they hadn't, that'd contradict my theology that nothing is wasted!) I ended up realising that this was about people not getting it: a problem Jesus seemed to have often, and which God must experience constantly.

Maybe it does us no harm to find ourselves wondering how God feels about things.  Not the arrogant presupposition that X or Y must make God so angry those involved will burn forever.  But the patient putting up with our bumbling and stupidity as we mess up or fail to grasp what it is we are meant to be about.

So, going back to mission in many modes, God gives us a wonderful planet to live on whether or not we ever respond in faith, gives us the creativity to paint and sing and dance and discover and invent.  Is that true mission?  Or is it just social activity?  Ah well, as I believe in a relational Trinity and will be preaching on Trinity as Divine Dance on 6th June maybe I'm just an incurable heretic!!

Notwithstanding the usual editorial disclaimers, I never thought the day would come when BUGB's daily e-news sweep would encourage us to read an online article thus:

Scotland’s first openly gay church minister has defied his critics and boosted numbers in his congregation over the past 12 months, it has been revealed.

Read more here Yes, it seems that even sassenachs in Didcot read the Herald!!

This phrase, which I encountered in the writing of David Bosch, has been pivotal in my understanding of ministry and mission.

This evening a friend of mine expressed their despair at a church profile that spoke of a desire to move from 'social and sociable action to true mission that will increase numbers attending church.' After a bit of calming down I decided I would post my reaction!

It is hard to believe how many churches still see mission as about bums on seats (or, if I may be cynical, as about getting people to put money in their coffers to keep the show on the road) rather than what the Bible says about... oh yes, justice and healing and disicple making... and going.  Wasn't sure whether to be sad or angry by what I heard.

True mission...

That'd be the guy in my old lunch club who asked me what Easter was all about, said he finally understood it, and died a week later at peace.

That'd be the elderly man who came to our pub carol service and said it'd made his Christmas.

That'd be the woman (also from the lunch club) who emailed me recently to say she'd finally rediscovered her faith - five years after I first met her.

That'd be the 90-something brought to a chapel tea by her 96 year-old neighbour.  (By the way, she stayed!)

That'd be the child who asked me whose birthday party Pentecost was while I painted her face.

That'd be the conversations with the staff in the coffee shop

That'd be the guy who lives on the streets and has us on his mental list of 'safe churches' to attend when he's passing

That'd be the election hustings where we served tea and someone said she'd really needed it.

That'd be opening our premises to those on the margins of society so they can have parties on Saturday nights in a safe place.

That'd be my friend who spent her Easter hols in India working with projects to alleviate poverty.

That'd be the URC Lucy blogged about who installed showers.

That'd be the wedding offered for free that Julie blogged about.

That'd be... well too many things to list really

Will any of these get bums on seats?  Dunno.  Does it matter?  I think not.

Misison might be an evangelistic campaign, but then again it probably won't.  Jesus never said it had to be.

Mission might well lead to people finding faith... but it doesn't demand it.

OK rant over!  (And friend who emailed it's not your fault I'm annoyed by this)