Commuting

On average (allegedly) a person spends one year's-worth of life commuting.  I think that means in the UK.  It must be seriously skewed by the poor souls using the M25.

 

Someone remarked to me a few days ago,

"I suppose one of the best things about your job is that you don't have to travel to work"

 

 

I'm not convinced about that though.

It is true that it is only fifteen minutes walk from house to church (last church 10 minutes, one before that 5 minutes so it's getting longer . . .). 

 

It is also true that technically my home is my place of work - though if I spent the month there without leaving it is hard to imagine getting approval from the Church members.

 

A local pastor toddles to and from the local hospital(s) and places in the local community and people's living rooms nearby.  By apparent contrast, Hudson Taylor, the great missionary pioneer of Christian faith in China, travelled for the equivalent of 4 years of his life on a boat.  John Wesley racked up an average of 4000 miles a year.

 

Perhaps it is more profound than that.

 

On Sunday morning we read a little of Pilgrim's Progress.  Bunyan's contention is that life is one long commute.  What sets a pastor apart - even from the itinerant missionaries and evangelists - is that a pastor travels not only his own commute but the commute of hundreds of others.

 

No wonder it never feels as though life is standing still.

Buttons

That morning Hudson Taylor had donned his customary frock-coat, as befitted a Victorian English gentleman, and started another day of brave, even reckless, Christian ministry. Here he was in the depths of China, a place forbidden to foreigners, far beyond the reach of consular support. Yet as he preached in town after town along the inland waterways he found that his foreignness guaranteed him an audience. And that, after all, is what every preaching missionary needs.

Irritatingly his foreignness seemed to be more alluring than the message itself. And on this, as it was to be, historic day pairs of eyes were transfixed upon him. Before the question, the wonderfully polite man had explained that they understood the usefulness of the strange things (buttons) on the front of his jacket. They were there to go through the holes and somehow hold the clothing together in the cold wind. But, the foreign teacher was asked, "What can be the meaning of those buttons in the middle of the honourable back?"

A lesser missionary might have laughed off the question about his decorative buttons. Hudson Taylor was not such a man. The question haunted him as he made his way to the next location. He resolved to dispense with the niceties of western regalia and adopt clothing, and habits, that were the best suited for his purpose of pointing the people of inland China to Jesus.

What a different place the world would be if Christians and their Church had more frequently dispensed with ornamental buttons!