Someone once told me that middle age was when your narrow waist line and broad mind swapped places.  I have a feeling my middle aged spread operates on both levels, as I reckon I am far more broad minded now than I was twenty years ago, or maybe less certain anyway.

Today I received an email from someone loosely associated with church asking for help in thinking something through.  As I reflected on how far their own thinking has moved in 4-5 years, I also thought about how my own approach to thinking through complex things has changed.  At 45 my perspectives are far more tentative than they were at 25, and I am ever more reluctant to make any kind of pronouncements.  It's not that I don't still have deeply held convictions, I do, but perhaps the way they are held is different (I am reminded of John Hull's work in his book 'What Stops Christian Adults from Learning' which I found very enlightening when I read it a few years back).

Life was certainly easier when I could condemn as ungodly or unchristian those perspectives I disagreed with, and I know lots of people in lots of churches operate in such a way (wherever they sit on theological spectra) but in a bizarre kind of a way, I think I actually prefer the muddledness I now have, which makes me more, not less, dependent on the grace and mercy of a God beyond my comprehension.

I hope my person found my thoughts helpful.  I hope that I continue to wrestle with the issues that cross my path, and never return to a simplistic 'sorted' perspective.  I also hope that 'pastoral pragmatism' never becomes careless condonement.  To be muddled and mystified but authentic and honest seems to be an 'ok' place to be... at least for now!

PS It's not that being 45 is 'better' than being 25, or that the certainty of youth is wrong, it's something about being authentically who you are and not stagnating along the way.

Just for fun. 

In a couple of conversations I had today the following observations were made by the other people... and I managed to keep a straight face... just: -

"Even when I was at my biggest I had a flat tummy under the fat"  (Er, yeah, didn't/don't we all?)

On the statistics for car accidents... "women may have a lower number of accidents statistically but..." (um, sorry, either we have less or we don't...)

... the pastoral concerns part of the deacons' meeting includes the report of the deaths of two dogs.  It sounds ultra flippant, but it's not, these dogs were both pets in families for whom life is currently quite tough, and this was just one more blow to deal with.  Fortunately it seems the diaconal cats are both in good health, though a ten year old goldfish is evidently looking a bit iffy.  At least it made us all laugh and released some of the tension that inevitably arises as we work through the various pastoral concerns.

We didn't quite pray for 'Goldie' but I did just wonder if Alice was lurking somewhere in the background...

This morning I've been choosing hymns and songs for our Pentecost outreach event.  It has been an OK experience, though of necessity some I really like had to be omitted because they don't fit and some I dislike or am bored with had to be included - such is life.

One that had to be omitted was this one from New Zealand and in Common Ground...

Loving Spirit, loving Spirit

You have chosen me to be

You have drawn me to your wonder,

You have set your sign on me.

 

Like a mother, you enfold me,

Hold my life within your own,

Feed me with your very body,

Form me of your flesh and bone.

 

Like a father, you protect me,

Teach me the discerning eye,

Hoist me up upon your shoulder,

Let me see the world from high. 

 

Friend and lover, in your closeness

I am known and held and blessed

In your promise is my comfort,

In your presence I may rest.

 

Loving Spirit, loving Spirit,

You have chosen me to be,

You have drawn me to your wonder,

You have set your sign on me.

 

Shirley Erena Murray (c) Hope Publishing Co. via Copycare

 

For anyone who'd like to use it, and doesn't have access to Common Ground, at least the metre (87 87) is such that you can readily find a tune to use.

As it seems we are moving into branded church models... cafe, messy, pub etc., I reckon I was doing wrinklie church this morning.  Our lunch club members had a coffee morning to raise money for the local children's hospice, achieving the sum of £150 in an hour and a half.  We brought and bought (so now I have a tin of Ambrosia rice pudding and a plastic tray someone decided I needed!), chatted and listened, and generally had a good time together.  At the end of the morning a couple of us filled our cars with people and zimmers and delivered them back home, the left over bric-a-brac was boxed up to go to a charity shop and the host's house (not mine for once!) was restored to some sort of order.  All in all it was a good morning's work.

Shortly I have to gather up a couple of others and take them for a drive and a cuppa, and somewhere in the midst of it all fit in some desk based work.

Yesterday I discovered that you cease to be an adult when you reach age 100 - today my 102 year old raised money to help people who will never reach adulthood - some where in all of that Wrinklie Church was done.