abbotsford.org.uk

For the sake of sanity

Just so we can move the blog on a wee bit here's a new thread that hopefully won't descend into the previous effort.

Well actually I haven't got a thread other than to say the blog is 1 year old and has had over 26,000 page views. I don't really know what that means in terms of the number of people visiting but it's a fairly big number in anyones book.

Why not go here and see where we're taking some from the task groups in 10 days time. A wee outing to a community arts project down in Irvine, on a slip way, in the rain. It's going to be great. Seriously. And there are more visits coming up. We're on our way and getting there (wherever 'there' is).

Chocolate Teapots for Nov 19th

Okay, back to some sort of normality this week. Bet it will be a quieter service. Remembrance blues. You tend to find that that after a big service then people need a holiday from the intensity. You find it after Harvest, Holy Week, Christmas and communion.

Anyhow... this week we've a fabulous piece of the Old Testament where Hannah who was barren suddenly finds she is with child (heard that one before?). And so the story of Samuel unfolds and hints of Mary and Jesus and Salvation even back then. Luke the Gospel writen has put the words of Hannah onto Mary's lips in the Magnificat. So even way back then, when that original story was being told round the fires and in homes and in exile, there has always been the hint, longing, and waiting for liberation, salvation and the promise of God.

1 Samuel 1:4-20; 2:1-10. Lots to read. Lots to learn.

1 Samuel 1

3-7 Every year this man went from his hometown up to Shiloh to worship and offer a sacrifice to God-of-the-Angel-Armies. Eli and his two sons, Hophni and Phinehas, served as the priests of God there. When Elkanah sacrificed, he passed helpings from the sacrificial meal around to his wife Peninnah and all her children, but he always gave an especially generous helping to Hannah because he loved her so much, and because God had not given her children. But her rival wife taunted her cruelly, rubbing it in and never letting her forget that God had not given her children. This went on year after year. Every time she went to the sanctuary of God she could expect to be taunted. Hannah was reduced to tears and had no appetite.

8 Her husband Elkanah said, "Oh, Hannah, why are you crying? Why aren't you eating? And why are you so upset? Am I not of more worth to you than ten sons?"

9-11 So Hannah ate. Then she pulled herself together, slipped away quietly, and entered the sanctuary. The priest Eli was on duty at the entrance to God's Temple in the customary seat. Crushed in soul, Hannah prayed to God and cried and cried—inconsolably. Then she made a vow:
Oh, God-of-the-Angel-Armies,
If you'll take a good, hard look at my pain,
If you'll quit neglecting me and go into action for me
By giving me a son,
I'll give him completely, unreservedly to you.
I'll set him apart for a life of holy discipline.

12-14 It so happened that as she continued in prayer before God, Eli was watching her closely. Hannah was praying in her heart, silently. Her lips moved, but no sound was heard. Eli jumped to the conclusion that she was drunk. He approached her and said, "You're drunk! How long do you plan to keep this up? Sober up, woman!"

15-16 Hannah said, "Oh no, sir—please! I'm a woman hard used. I haven't been drinking. Not a drop of wine or beer. The only thing I've been pouring out is my heart, pouring it out to God. Don't for a minute think I'm a bad woman. It's because I'm so desperately unhappy and in such pain that I've stayed here so long."

17 Eli answered her, "Go in peace. And may the God of Israel give you what you have asked of him."

18 "Think well of me—and pray for me!" she said, and went her way. Then she ate heartily, her face radiant.

19 Up before dawn, they worshiped God and returned home to Ramah. Elkanah slept with Hannah his wife, and God began making the necessary arrangements in response to what she had asked.

Dedicating the Child to God

20 Before the year was out, Hannah had conceived and given birth to a son. She named him Samuel, explaining, "I asked God for him."

1 Samuel 2

1 Hannah prayed: I'm bursting with God-news! I'm walking on air.
I'm laughing at my rivals. I'm dancing my salvation. 2-5 Nothing and no one is holy like God,
no rock mountain like our God.
Don't dare talk pretentiously—
not a word of boasting, ever!
For God knows what's going on.
He takes the measure of everything that happens.
The weapons of the strong are smashed to pieces,
while the weak are infused with fresh strength.
The well-fed are out begging in the streets for crusts,
while the hungry are getting second helpings.
The barren woman has a houseful of children,
while the mother of many is bereft.
6-10 God brings death and God brings life,
brings down to the grave and raises up.
God brings poverty and God brings wealth;
he lowers, he also lifts up.
He puts poor people on their feet again;
he rekindles burned-out lives with fresh hope,
Restoring dignity and respect to their lives—
a place in the sun!
For the very structures of earth are God's;
he has laid out his operations on a firm foundation.
He protectively cares for his faithful friends, step by step,
but leaves the wicked to stumble in the dark.
No one makes it in this life by sheer muscle!
God's enemies will be blasted out of the sky,
crashed in a heap and burned.
God will set things right all over the earth,
he'll give strength to his king,
he'll set his anointed on top of the world!

Never think there is no room for surprise

It was a moment that suprised me yet again. When we did the dialogue of laying the poppies this morning onto the white sheet, I truly didn't expect folk to come forward to lay their own poppy down. But they did. And then more at the conclusion of the service. People moved because it was something they could do. Not for the sake of it, but because sometimes that's all you can do. And the bigger surprise is that it always happens at Remembrance. I've pasted below the litany...

For those who weren't there, a strip of material was hanging down in front of the communion table and as one voice read the other person placed a large poppy through the material. At the end folk were invited to pin their own poppies to the white sheet if they wished. They did wish. It was a good moment.

Voice 1:
We lay a poppy
in remembrance,
of service folk who left, never to return,
falling in battle,
buried at sea,
or some corner of a foreign field,
who gave what they had,
and still do.
For those conflicts of our past,
and present,
may the poppies grow,
not just for their sake,
but for ours too.

Voice 2:
We lay a poppy
in remembrance,
of those left now only with memories,
of a telegram,
a letter,
of an image,
a photograph,
a story,
who gave what they had,
and still do,
for the conflict that is not over.
As the poppies grow, may healing also,
not just for their sake,
but for ours too.

Voice 1:
We lay a poppy
in remembrance,
of the cost a conflict brings
to those without homes,
whose men and womenfolk are taken,
where children become fighters,
and family and security are shattered,
broken so often there is little else to break,
for those who were taken before they could give,
and still do
(for such are the ways of this world).
As the poppies grow, may hope also,
not just for their sake,
but for ours too.

Voice 2:
We lay a poppy
in remembrance,
of those whose lives are haunted by death:
the suffering all conflict brings,
of destruction of all that is familiar,
all that once could be trusted,
of neighbourhoods destroyed,
of collateral damage
being an acceptable euphemism
for the death of humanity,
those who gave without a choice,
and still do,
in a world that chooses conflict.
As the poppies grow, may reconciliation also,
not just for their sake,
but for ours too.

Voice 1:
We lay a poppy
in remembrance,
of war and blitz,
of power-mongering and loyalty,
of soldier and civilian,
of arms dealers and landmine victims,
those who gave,
and still do
for a war that is not over.
As the poppies grow, may peace also,
not just for their sake,
but for ours too.

Voice 2:
We lay a poppy
in a remembrance,
that is not just about the past,
but may belong also to some future,
that it may help shape,
knowing whatever that is,
the cost has been too great,
and always will be.
Yet in this moment,
and every moment,
waits a God,
who holds the silence of knowing
how great the cost is,
more than anyone can.
For that silence is cross-shaped.
As the poppies grow, may love also
that they never die,
not just for our sake,
but for the sake of generations to come.

This may never be said tomorrow

I’ve never been a fan of the colour red… It’s too bold… too harsh… too primary… It takes over everything… you notice it before you notice any other colour… It’s the colour of danger… or stop… of hazard… of that wee standby light on my TV and phone that I can’t get rid of… as if saying to me… Hah, you can’t get rid of me… I’m burning up energy even when I’m doing nothing…

I prefer white… It’s a more sacred colour… there is something fresh and new about white… it’s about something unharmed… pure… still yet to be tarnished… It’s the colour of the opening ceremonies of big events as doves are released… of table cloths at communion… of bread… It is altogether a more wholesome… hopeful… sacred… colour…

The colour I like least is pink… not just because everything my daughter wants to wear is that colour… or that her bedroom is a sanctuary to that blasted colour… but because it is insipid… it’s a compromise… It isn’t a real colour… it’s just an excuse… red watered down by white… It’s not even a new colour like orange… or green… or purple… which you get when you blend other colours… It’s just pink… and it should be banned…

In remembrance there is always the debate about white or red poppies… In any remembrance you need both… Both because… there is a harshness here… You have to notice the truth of death… and the dying of humanity whenever conflict takes people’s lives… You have to notice it… you can’t get rid of it… the truth that war kills human life… and destroys the very heart of being human…

But maybe we equally need white too to remember… because it offers hope… it offers the chance to re-draw… to start afresh… It reminds us of sacrifice… like Jesus’… of communing with those fallen because they were on a battle front… or they were a family minding their own business but were ruthlessly attacked by tank shells in Palestine… or Iraq… or wherever civilians die… White because it turns death… and the hurt… and the untold suffering and the emptiness… into something of God… something that holds the promise… I will not let you go… that says… I notice each death… each dying… no matter how small and insignificant… like tuppence in the temple treasury… and tells us remembrance… which is beyond memory… but full of the transformation the terror-filled recognition of how much humanity is worth… is a sacred moment… and sacred moments can change the world…

I think I need red as much as white… I can’t do without them both… or there is nothing to hope in or long for… and I could never abide the diluting of either colour… because if that day comes… and we lessen the shock… as well as the hope… then we having finally… lost everything…

Christmas Thought

Everything you need for Christmas

Silence

Silence for what...?

What do you reflect on and what do you think about and what feelings come up during the sielnce this coming weekend?

This isn't a political thing or a comment against against the tradition. It is genuinely a question about what people think about. The purpose is to use the ideas in a reflection on Sunday during Remembrance Service. You can reply to me privately if you wish.

More paradigm shifting

B Basher who posted up stream offers this from a discussion forum:

From the book Transforming Mission by David J. Bosch, I have been reading about what Hans Kung contends as 6 major paradigms of Christian history:

1. The apocalyptic paradigm of primitive Christianity
2. The Hellenistic paradigm of the patristic period.
3. The medieval Roman Catholic paradigm
4. The Protestant (Reformation) paradigm
5. The modern Enlightenment paradigm
6. The emerging ecumenical paradigm

Thomas Kuhn's definition of a paradigm is "the entire constellation of beliefs, values, techniques, and so on shared by the members of a given community". Bosch argues that "defenders of the old order and champions of the new frequently argue at cross purposes. They resist its challenges with deep emotional reactions, since those challenges threaten to destroy their very perception and experience of reality, indeed their entire world."

I'm wondering if this is why we have so many disagreements in the Church today. Are we in the middle of a 'paradigm shift'? Often our disagreements seem to be due to our differing 'frame of reference' or our view of the world (and our place in it). Bosch says "As the existing paradigm increasingly blurs, the new one begins to attract more and more scholars, until eventually the original, problem-ridden paradigm is abandoned".

Hmmmm...

Personal Rant

This is from Life & Work this month by Muriel Armstrong:

"In view of the large number of vacancies particularly in rural areas beyond the central belt and also in unglamerous city parishes, is it not time also to examine the whole area of "calling" and introduce a more fuild and flexible atructure to allow for a much more mobile ministry."

This is exactly what the church has been thinking about over the last 6 years but chucked it all out last year. Every piece of the new ideas about a more flexible, mobile ministry and sharing of the ministry. The church is good at that. A good idea comes along once in a while, indeed, rather rarely, and the church tends to bin it. Am I just being cynical? To me it's the ones with power don't like the idea they may not keep the power. Okay, maybe no one would say it just like that, or indeed recognise themselves doing that because it isn't premeditative, but more frighteningly, it's intuitive. But then, I'm probably wrong, again and I'm actually the one holding on to power... Hmmmm.

Bookends

The next book is hitting the pews soon. The Secret River by Kate Grenville. It's down the sidebar if you want to have a look at it.

I tried to get them to give a rating to the last book but I think they were all too busy talking about the weather, the state of world peace and the last thing bought at the shops. So I'll give you a wee thought about it. Chasing Francis is a fine read, easily done, even a little laughter. Some good characterisation and lots to find out about Fracis of Assisi. You'll be surprised at how much he is responsible for in the church.

And that's the interesting bit because the main character has left a church and needs to work out whether or not to go back. Francis' legacy allows him and, more pointedly, us, to reshape the chruch with a little more spirituality, focus, relevance and irreverance - if we would ever dare.

Dare we?

In Search of God

While all of Radio Four is god-given, there is a particularly goos series on at the moment called Humphrey's in search of God where John Humphreys talks to a number of leading faith leaders (not just Christian) and asked them to persaude him God exists. It's fabulous and you can hear it again on the internet at the Radio Four Webpage.

I was listening to it yesterday (it's on every Tuesday 9am and 9.30pm) recognising the idea of faith and what you can believe is allowing yourself to have a totally alternative worldview. It doesn't fit comfortably in a scienticic or rational worldview. That's kind of obvious but it means it is very difficult to dialogue between the two when you are coming from oposing or alternative contexts.

Anyway, here's a quote I picked up concerning Richard Dawkins:

Terry Eagleton replies, in his inimitable style, to Richard Dawkins.

Card-carrying rationalists like Dawkins... are in one sense the least well-equipped to understand what they castigate, since they don’t believe there is anything there to be understood, or at least anything worth understanding. This is why they invariably come up with vulgar caricatures of religious faith that would make a first-year theology student wince. The more they detest religion, the more ill-informed their criticisms of it tend to be. If they were asked to pass judgment on phenomenology or the geopolitics of South Asia, they would no doubt bone up on the question as assiduously as they could. When it comes to theology, however, any shoddy old travesty will pass muster.