Just Looking

The story is told of a man on his hands and knees under a street light looking for something.

Along came an Officer of the Law who was concerned with the man's behaviour so late at night.

"Have you lost something, sir?"

"My wallet, officer", drawled the man who was evidently somewhat the worse for drink.

"Do you remember when you last had it?", asked the policeman.

"Yes I think so.  I think I dropped it back there round the corner."

"Then if you don't mind me asking", continued the officer,"why are you looking for it on the pavement here?"

"There's a light here," replied the man. "Back there I couldn't see where I was looking".

It may be a joke, but I feel sure that something like this explains several things.  It explains why apparently normalised people go after messengers of disaster or death - into trafficking, into terrorism and the like.  That seems to them to be the light and they head there looking for something.

It also explains the difficulty the church often faces when it is dark even though it holds the answer.  Sometimes the light goes out because people become as in a private club or family and evangelism loses its meaning for them; sometimes the light goes out because people are too preoccupied with things other than light-giving; sometimes the light is lost in a compromised faith that admits immorality, dissension or unbelief; sometimes the doors of the church building are just mostly shut (and the lights literally out!).

If no light is shone on what needs to be found, it is strangely likely that people will head for any light even if what needs to be found is not there.

Stop!

It's that time of year when things stop.  For those who work on Summer Camps, Conferences and Clubs this is farcically not true but in the general sense many things that happen over forty plus weeks of the year don't happen for five or six about now.

Lest this induce the activist Christian guilt (it doesn't take much) let us be heartened by this paragraph from the old Rule of the Society of St John regarding the monastic ministry of hospitality for which they were so famous:

If we let our life as a brotherhood be overwhelmed by the claims of the guests we could endanger the resources by which we serve them . . . there shall be interludes during the year when guests are not normally received.

Hearing

Not too much attention is given by Christians to the meaning of hearing.

Even as I write that, I realise I must immediately disown all reference to Church microphones and induction loops that plague the peaceableness of every congregation's relationships.  (It seems clear to me why angels in heaven use trumpets and God a very loud voice life the sound of many waters - nowhere could be free of sin that had electronic sound reproduction!).

The hearing I refer to is that with which the Lord Jesus ends many parables -  he that hath ears to hear let him hear.  Lest we take that turn of phrase to mean that everyone will hear Jesus also indicates rather the opposite, quoting the old prophet - ears have they but they hear not.

Serving God in a vast city where, nonetheless, many do not hear I have been thinking about this.  Clearly we who know Christ have to be out there and the past year has seen our church do that on many occasions (but nowhere near as many as the Jehovah's Witnesses locally, let's admit).  There is a telling to be done.

But there is also hearing.  

The picture above is a quotation from John Wesley.  It stands by one of his great outdoor theatres of preaching where thousands heard.  We envy him.  Then we beat ourselves up for falling so far short.  But we might miss what he says - to declare unto all that are willing to hear.  Wesley was a great evangelist partly because he had a great hearing audience.  A Christian in Saudi Arabia or North Korea has very few hearers (except perhaps by media).  A Christian in parts of Africa or South America may quickly amass many.  Jesus did both, with Galilean audiences of thousands and disgruntled Jerusalem Temple or Nazareth sceptics who wouldn't accept a word he said.  Hence his point.

The willingness to hear is not the work so much of the evangelist as the community.  Or more properly of the Holy Spirit who graciously unplugs ears sometimes.

Magna Carta

Freedom is a strangely elusive idea.  Instinctively we want it, value it, demand it, yet it is much less clear what it really is.  

Take the striking opening of the Magna Carta, and one of the only four of its clauses that remain in contemporary English Law:

• I. FIRST, We have granted to God, and by this our present Charter have confirmed, for Us and our Heirs for ever, that the Church of England shall be free, and shall have all her whole Rights and Liberties inviolable. 

This might warm the heart, one would think, of any Christian. Yet strangely it did not work out quite as this reads.  After all, it was the Monarchy that effectively changed the Church of England (on account of Henry VIII's marital woes) into a non-Roman Church.  That seems some way short of the Church being free of the monarch as the Charter indicated.

Then there have been the times when, whatever freedoms the Church did enjoy it used against other expressions of church and religion.  You would have to look very hard to find any other longstanding expressions of Church on the actual City of London (which is a double irony as the freedoms of the City of London are also contained as a remaining Law from Magna Carta).

Then there is the irony that the institutional Church of England (which Magna Carta most obviously references) is, in fact, the least free of all expressions of Church with a multitude of things it can't do, must do, must have and may not have.

On the bright side, it offers an early trend toward freedom of religion in a broader sense, and one which is happily still respected (though losing ground through the double whammy of militant Islam and rampant secular Humanism).

What it most confirms - and this I think is truly frightening - is that the basis of what old King John did was under the watchful eye of God - We have granted to God.  A society that no longer believes it is answerable to God and where pockets of it believe in a God of vengeance and violence is not likely for too long to hold dear the idea of freedom.  Oppression is so much more human (as Cain effectively said).

Heat

There must be many places to be on a 95 degree day, but London certainly isn't one of them. 

 

I feel strangely satisfied sitting in my study before doing an afternoon visit.  I've just been on the phone to someone who, it turned out, was answering their phone from Hampton Court Garden Show.  Far from feeling jealous I felt sorry for my friend.

 

The atmosphere changes everything, doesn't it?  Ordinary places become extraordinary on an unusual weather day.  I find myself paying attention to shaded streets so I can walk comfortably, minimising my time outside, closing my curtains.

 

A song that is a few steps past my current church's style but which I love is the only one I know with the word atmosphere in.  It's a reminder that although we have meetings that try to change things, the only really big change comes when God turns up the heat.  Then nothing is the same.