Now this post is a real giveaway that I am one of those people whose devotional Bible reading is done late at night rather than when I wake up.  Despite the best endeavours of every Bible reading scheme I've ever encountered and 99.5% of preachers and teachers, and even despite being more of a morning person, I have never managed to sustain early morning devotional times.  It was, I think, the late and still somewhat lamented David Watson who allowed that some people would opt for evening/night devotions, commenting it was absolutely fine just so long as you remembered to pull your armour straight in the morning when you woke up (a light and humorous reference to Ephesians 6) - well I recall it almost 30 years on, so it must have been significant!

All of this is a very long introduction to my response to yesterday's notes on the start of Luke 2 and the emperor's census.  As I read the notes, I was taken back more than 30 years to the thoughts of my RE teacher on the timing of Jesus' birth, at the height of the Roman Empire, pretty much the entire known world, and the significance of this.  The writer of the notes observed that the census was all about power - by counting the citizens and knowing where they were the Emperor could determine how to control the empire - effectively the world.  God subverted this by bringing the bearer/means of salvation for the world (known and unknown) to birth within that endeavour.  How then, the writer asked, might God be working in and through systems and persons we see as powerful, corrupt or even bad at a global level?  That kept me puzzling for some time before Morpheus overtook me, and still has my puzzling today.  God at work subverting global financial or climate change issues...?  God somehow at work in the ongoing conflicts in Afghanistan or Iraq...?  Or even, dare one go there, in the whole terrorism thing...?  And if so, how? And how do we avoid just reading in what we want to see or justifying our own prejudices or agendas...?  I'm not entirely sure I can quite get to where the writer suggests, and of course I could totally have missed the point, but it's good to be made to puzzle over it.

If anyone read the notes and does get it or has any ideas maybe they can let me know?

On my morning blog trawl I just discovered that two significant theologians had died in the last in the last couple of weeks, Edward Schillebeeckx (who must qualify as the theologian with the most mis-spelled name, I always have to look it up) and Mary Daly.

When I was at college I took a course entitled 'women and theology' which was a broad introduction to feminist theology, something of which I was rather wary having been in churches that saw such things as, at best, rather iffy.  Engaging with a whole range of women theologians and writers, some who call(-ed) themselves feminist, some who didn't or who were dead long before the term was invented, was a real privilege and I thoroughly enjoyed the course.  People whose work we were 'made' to read included, along with others I cannot recall the exact names of,  Julian of Norwich, Dorothy L Sayers, Alice Walker, Elisabeth Schussler Fiorenza (another one I can't spell!) Rosemary Radford Ruether and, inevitably, Mary Daly.  And I have to admit it was Mary Daly whose work moved me most - whilst I found myself disagreeing with so much she said I loved the energy and vitality of her writing and her passion for her cause.  I remember saying in a class that I found it at once repelling and compelling, repulsive and compulsive.  Maybe, many years later, if I re-read it I would feel differently, maybe I wouldn't.  What I do know is that by engaging with something way outside my (then) comfort zone I learned from this woman whose thinking was indeed profound and powerful.

I did read some things by Schillebeeckx but alas I cannot recall what; it obviously impacted me less than did Ms Daly.

In the passing of these two scholars the world has lost two gifted and respected theologians.  Quite what St Peter makes/made of Mary Daly is something beyond our ken, but I'm fairly confident it is/was interesting!!

I thank God for these people whose honesty and integrity shaped their theological writing and in some way shaped my own thinking.  Since both were, at least once upon a time, RC it seems fitting to end with an RC blessing:

Eternal rest grant to them, oh Lord

Let perpetual light sine uipon them

May they rest in peace.

Amen.

These familiar words of Jesus are oft interpreted and preached upon.  This Sunday I am setting them alongside the story of Naaman's wifes' maid - the nameless Hebrew girl who is central to the whole story.  All of which got me wondering about other stories in the Bible at the heart of which are children and young people - how might emulating them impact our own faith and discipleship.

In recent times I have stopped posting so much about my sermon ideas as so many church folk now read this stuff.  Other readers have noticed this and apparently miss reading them.  So this is a kind of compromise - a bit of a teaser that doesn't give away what I'm thinking and talking about but does allow any or all readers some glimpses...  Let me know what you think of the idea of such 'teasers' (or this thread) either by comments or emails

This year I have opted to use the IBRA Words for Today Bible notes as the basis for my daily devotional reading.  Each year I choose a different 'stable' (IBRA/SU/BRF etc) because by the end of the year I feel I have grown too used to the style of a particular set of writers and editors and need a change.

Already the newness of this series is getting my mind working - which is good.  A series on the opening of Luke's gospel has inspired me to think more deeply about the backgrounds of Jesus and John the Baptist than ever before - and all because someone drew attention to words I've read times without number.  The writer observed that John the Baptist was from a middle class family whilst Jesus was from a working class background.  I guess what struck me was the former of these - even though I've always known Zechariah was of priestly descent I'd never paused to think about it.

John was born into a religious family, part of a long line of religious professionals, which may have made his nazarite status less odd than it sometimes appears.  He would have been steeped in the law and experienced first hand the realities of cleanliness laws.  I began to ponder more about his hidden early life.  His parents were already old when he was born, how much longer did they live?  Was he alone by the time he was 12? 20? 30?  Is it any wonder, with elderly parents who quite probably died while he was still young, that he went off to live in the wilderness in some kind of nomadic, hermit existence?  What was his life really like?  Did he and Jesus ever meet at family gatherings (how close were Mary and Elizabeth anyway?)?  And so on.

I was also struck by the difference between the probable life of Elizabeth and that of her 'kinswoman' Mary.  Like so many families in our time, one branch is financially comfortable whilst another is not, one branch are stalwarts of religious establishment, another, whilst seemingly devout, is not.  In Mary and Elizabeth the bizarre contrasts of normal family life are played out - different generations whose children are the same age (it struck me when reading my Christmas cards this year that I have friends who are grandparents and friends whose children are toddlers and all points between); comparative wealth, education and opportunity for one whilst another lives a simple, peasant life.  And yet the God who turns things upside down appoints John as forerunner for Jesus.

It's making me ponder... and that's got to be good.  I am looking forward to working with these notes this year - even though by the end of it I'll be ready for another change I suspect.

Happy New Year!  Having had a lovely week of visiting family and friends at all points south of home, I am now back to work - with cold fingers and toes despite having both heaters on full blast!  There are a few mm of snow on the roads, less on the roofs/rooves, but generally life is plodding along as 'folk dressed up like eskimoes' face the return to work.  Quite how the man in the coffee shop can cope with wearing a tee-shirt is beyond me, must be very warm in there - I'll check later when my toes are really, really cold.

Anyway, New Year, and that lovely sense of freshness as the diary pages are still crisp and white and the possibilities seem endless.  Even while the problems of last year rumble on unabated, it is good to dare to dream of the year ahead.  As I settle into my 'new' place it is exciting to begin to anticipate how the story will unfold, the new things God will show us and draw us to share in, as well as the continuation of good things already established.  Lots of challenges ahead no doubt but lots to enjoy too.

Happy and Hope-filled 2010 everyone.