Still Quarrying 5

People talk about fighting cancer.  I must admit that appeals to a competitive streak in me but I wonder just how helpful it is to think in those terms.  How do you fight it?  Certainly maintaining a positive frame of mind, eating as well as you can, exercising to some extent - all of this helps.  But in the end you are in the hands of the doctors and what they think is the best way through.  You have to be content to be in a largely passive position where instructions are given and things happen to you and you are called to trust in the judgement of the experts.  I don’t use that word in a Michael Gove way.  I actually believe in experts.  There are people who know better than I and I am glad that they are with me in this moment.  

Even more important than placing myself in their hands, however,  is the trust I am called to place in my God.  I often think of David when he returned to Ziklag with his men to find  it destroyed by fire and their wives, sons and daughters taken captive.  ‘David and his men wept aloud until they had no strength left to weep.’  (1 Samuel 30: 4).  David found himself isolated and under threat of stoning from his resentful men but ‘David found strength in the Lord his God.‘   How did he find that strength?

First of all, he had the promises of God.  He had been assured that he would come through this time of uncertainty, harassed and harried by Saul,  and become King of Israel.  Secondly, his instinct when faced with this crisis was to ‘enquire’ of the Lord.  (1 Samuel 30: 8)  He realized the presence of God to know His will.  

This is the way forward in developing my trust in my God.  I need to focus on the promises that are given to all God’s people, not least the assurance that all things work to the good of those who love the Lord.  And prayer should be as the Apostle Paul envisaged it, continuous.  These are the means whereby strength is gathered.  In the end, if there is a ‘fight’ then it is not with the cancer but with myself and being able to say with the Psalmist: ‘I trust in you, O Lord; I say “You are my God.”  My times are in your hands . . .’  (Psalm 31: 15).  

Still Quarrying 4

It was Easter Day 2009 and it felt strange to be sitting in a pew instead of standing in a pulpit.  I had been signed off sick and this was my second Sunday away from St Paul’s.  As I looked around the city centre Church I saw two other ministers.  One I knew was recovering from serious surgery and the other I found out later had been struggling with a stress related illness.  At one level, it might have been best if we had stayed at home.  I know my mind wasn’t fully focussed and it was an effort to sing even the majestic Easter hymns.  But today of all days we wanted to be with God’s people, to draw strength from the fellowship and to hear the preached Word.   

I would like to be in Church this morning.  I had hoped that it might be possible for me to continue to attend but at the moment energy and concentration are low.  I have to learn to be content with my present circumstances in the spirit of Philippians 4: 11-13:

‘...for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.  I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.  I can do all this through him who gives me strength.’

I may not be with God’s people today but I know I am remembered.  Paul’s experience in Lystra comes to mind in Acts 14.  He had been stoned almost to death ‘but after the disciples had gathered round him, he got up and went back into the city.’  (verse 20).  I’m not physically present but certainly held in prayer. That is a ‘gathering round’ which encourages me to hold a vision of a return to the city.    

Still Quarrying 3.

Second chemo yesterday.  Sitting in the Beatson Cafe yesterday we met a Milngavie man and his wife.  He is waiting for a rehabilitation place in St Margaret’s Hospice.  Four people  with different lives but bound together by cancer.  It made me think of John Green’s book later made into a movie, ‘The Fault In Our Stars’.  It’s the story of two teenagers, Hazel and Augustus, who come together through their common experience of cancer.   Hazel describes themselves as citizens in ‘the Republic of Cancervania.‘   It’s like that.  When you are in the Beatson so many people pass you by.  You don’t know them, perhaps will never see them again, but you have this disease in common.  

In the lift yesterday there was a young man in a wheelchair with a line in his nose.  Obviously receiving intensive chemotherapy.  His carer asked me if it was still raining outside.  I said: ‘You know, I couldn’t tell you.  I’m a bit spaced out.‘   The young man smiled and said: ‘I know how you feel.’  

Someone I don’t know, perhaps will never see again, but in that moment a bond.  Strangely, it brought a flicker of reassurance.  It made me think of Someone I know who knows me and what I am going through and can provide  me with everything needful for this time:

‘Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has ascended into heaven, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess.  For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.’  Hebrews 4: 14-16.

Still Quarrying 2.

It began ten years ago.  A persistent feeling of tiredness led me to the doctor.  Blood tests revealed an abnormality which was eventually diagnosed as ‘monoclonal gamopathy of undetermined significance’.  A bit of a mouthful more commonly abbreviated to MGUS.  (Yes, Fergus has MGUS!)  As it stood there was no immediate cause for alarm but there was a possibility that this could develop into Multiple Myeloma, a blood cancer.  I had never heard of this but subsequent reading and online surfing revealed how serious this could be.  To put it as simply as possible there was ‘bad stuff’ in my blood that could lead to bone deterioration, kidney failure along with other unpleasant symptoms.  

There followed three monthly visits to the clinic to monitor my blood.  Eventually there was a movement along the spectrum from MGUS to Smouldering Myeloma until last year an MRI scan revealed bone lesions in my pelvis and sternum.  During this ten year period I experienced very few symptoms.  In fact, my physical fitness was at a high level with frequent visits to the gym and the same high level of satisfaction in my ministry.  There was also the marriage of my son Stephen to his English rose Mary and the subsequent birth of our first grandson Busby.  The news of the advancement of the disease, then, was a shock.  

Just before Christmas 2017 it was decided that treatment had to begin with infusions of a drug called Zometa which it was hoped would strengthen the bones against any further deterioration.  (Whenever I put ‘Zometa’ in my diary it looked as though I had an assignation with a being from a distant planet!)  Chemotherapy was postponed for the time being.  It was not envisaged that the Zometa would come with any significant side-effects but I felt myself slowing down, visits to the gym became less frequent and my treasured early morning start to the day became a memory.  

The ‘Watch and Wait’ approach over that year became frustrating.  What were they waiting for?  Over the years I had accumulated a number of stories of people who eventually developed catastrophic symptoms.  If there was a way to avoid that surely it should be taken?  This was a lesson in trusting the judgement of those who knew better and who had been such a support to me over the years.  When the time came in January this year there was no longer any doubt that the treatment should begin.    

It is early days yet.   I have two chemotherapy treatments a week along with a daily drug regime.  The immediate side-effects have been sleep disturbance and a kind of ‘spaced out’ feeling.  It is strange to be at the other end of the caring relationship.  I’m used to visiting people undergoing cancer treatment and seeking to bring the encouragements of the Gospel to them without really knowing how they are feeling in that moment.  If in the providence of God I come through this time there will be a whole new depth to my pastoral work, a very welcome side-effect.  

This is the thing.  We all want to avoid suffering and Scripture tells us this is a sign of a world gone wrong.  But there can be so many positive outcomes.  Think of Paul and his ‘thorn’: 2 Corinthians 12: 7-10.  What about Peter and the refining process: 1 Peter 1: 3-9?  And Jesus on the Cross achieving the greatest good for humankind in a tortured body.  

Suffering is a mystery but there enough hints in God’s Word to assure us that whatever we go through falls within the overarching good God is working out for His creation.  I can’t stay away from Romans 8 these days.  Here’s verse 18: ‘I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.‘    

Still Quarrying 1

My first chemotherapy treatment was yesterday, Shrove Tuesday.  We have come to think of this as ‘Pancake Tuesday’, a time for feasting prior to the deprivations of Lent.  Originally, however, this was a day of contemplation, a time to consider those things that most need to be changed in our lives.  The word ‘shrove’ comes from the old English word that carried a sense of confession, penance, absolution.  My take on Shrove Tuesday, then, would be an opportunity to aspire to a deeper Christian discipleship, leaving behind self-centredness and half-heartedness and moving towards a fuller expression of devotion to Jesus and a deeper commitment to His ways.  

What does that mean for me in this moment, side-lined through ill-health and receiving treatment which promises to be debilitating?  

The way I see it is that the fundamental challenges are still there.  No matter what my physical condition I am called to stay close to Jesus, standing on the promise that nothing will ever separate me from His love and seeking to be the best witness I can be to the Gospel.  

This could be a time of self-absorption.  Understandable to an extent but all the more reason to remember others who are affected by my condition.  This has changed the lives of Gabrielle, the family, my friends and the congregations I am privileged to serve.  These are challenging times for them and I need to hold them all in prayer.  

Perhaps most importantly, I do not cease to be a Christian witness.  How a Christian lives and suffers is important and, as in days of health and strength, we should never cease our preparedness to respond to any kind of need.  The Christian writer John Piper himself a cancer sufferer has written a pamphlet with a challenging, some might say provocative, title: ‘Don’t Waste Your Cancer’.  He sees the cancer experience as a time to draw closer to our Lord, to bear a particular witness, and to appreciate more what God can do through a suffering life.  I will be praying that my time will not be wasted.

Restoring All Things.

Speaking to an artist recently, he described how a painting took shape.   He starts off with an idea in his head but he is never quite sure how it will work out in the end.  He said: ‘I like the painting to speak to me.’  There is a sense in which the painting itself guides him.

It’s not unusual to find artists and writers describing their work in this way.  I once heard a poet say he never finishes a poem without a sense that in some way it has been given to him.  Paul McCartney promoting his latest album said he will never tire of writing songs because of the thrill of seeing something being produced out of nothing. 

None of this should really surprise us.  There is something about the creative process that is beyond our understanding.  But when you believe in a God who created the Universe out of nothing and who has created humankind in His own image, then to engage in any kind of creative activity  is to be touched by His being.  That is why there is so much satisfaction in building, painting, gardening, writing, knitting, decorating.  All of  this draws us into the Source of all creation. 

I suppose, however, that God’s biggest current project is re-creation.  Erik Varden, a Cistercian monk writes: ‘From being a garden of peace and sweet encounter, the world became a laboratory of selfishness, violence and warfare.’   But God has not turned His back on His ruined creation.  He is working towards the day when we will be returned to the garden.  Through His death and resurrection Jesus has made it possible for us as a renewed people to take our place in a renewed creation. He has emerged from the laboratory of selfishness, violence and warfare as the Risen Lord showing in Himself what God has in store for us when this ‘old and weary earth’ gives way to the new heaven and the new earth. 

The season of Remembrance brings to mind the worst of times for so many people but along with this we hold the faith that Jesus is building the best of times for us all. 

Getting Real!

The Summer weeks gave Gabrielle and I the opportunity to attend the theatre for the first time in many years and we were struck by what we have been missing.   There is something about a ‘live’ performance, more immediate, more engaging, more personal than anything we see on a screen.  And I say that as a lifelong movie fan! 

Watching the actors living their parts, giving everything to their performance, I was reminded of the bishop who was deeply moved by an actor’s performance.  In meeting him afterwards the bishop asked him why actors seem to have no difficulty making an impression on their audiences while preachers frequently leave them cold.   The actor replied:  ‘Actors speak of things imaginary as if they were real, you preachers too often speak of things real as if they were imaginary.’ 

Ouch!  Everyone who is called to preach God’s Word should take note.  But really this is a challenge to every Christian.  In the way we live our faith, in the way we share our faith does the world experience this as ‘real’?   Are the truths rooted in our lives bearing fruit, shaping our attitudes, clarifying our priorities, enabling us to be the light of the world as Jesus longs for us?  

None of us can be entirely comfortable in the face of this challenge but there is a way forward pioneered by the Apostle Paul.   He was deeply aware that as a Christian he was not the finished article but he held fast to the belief that in the course of his life no matter the circumstances he could grow closer to Jesus and live his life more fully in his ways.   He once wrote:

‘I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead.’  (Philippians 3: 10-11)

Paul is not just speaking to an early Christian community.  He sets this aspiration before every Christian community in every generation.  This is the way for us all to ‘get real’ about our faith.