Still Quarrying 116 - Thwarted Praise, Enduring Hope.

In the first months of my ministry in Stevenston: Ardeer I was told by a lady that she had received a postcard from a friend who was on holiday.  Among other things she wrote that she was missing Church and looking forward to getting back.  That was an encouragement to someone still finding his feet in parish ministry.

Later I came to know someone who had been a regular attender but severe emotional problems meant that this was no longer possible.   It was a source of regret and the Lord’s Day always came around with a deep sense of longing.  

It is this appreciation of the gathering for worship that we find in Psalms 42 and 43.  The Psalmist has powerful memories of the worship of God’s people and what a blessing this was:

‘ . . . I used to go with the multitude,

 leading the procession to the house of God,

 with shouts of thanksgiving

 among the festive throng.’  (42: 4)

But circumstances have now prevented this.  He is ‘oppressed by the enemy’, taunted by those who say “Where is your God?”   This results in great inner turmoil which comes through in both psalms as a refrain: 

‘Why are you downcast, O my soul?

 Why so disturbed within me?’  (42: 5; 43: 5)

Light and dark, sweet and sour, up and down jostle for possession of the Psalmist’s inner life.   And in many ways we stand with him in this unique moment in human history.  Circumstances are preventing us from gathering on the Lord’s Day, one of the vital sources of our spiritual health.  Many years ago, in a book about preaching James S. Stewart shared a vision of worship that he longed for all preachers to grasp:

‎'Every Sunday morning when it comes ought to find you awed and thrilled by the reflection - "God is to be in action today, through me, for these people; this day may be crucial, this service decisive, for someone now ripe for the vision of Jesus.”

Well, our gathering for worship may have been affected but I cannot accept that God cannot still work through the resources we have to bring people to faith and strengthen the faith of believers.  It may not be the same but again the Psalmist is our companion when he continues his internal dialogue and looks forward to a day of restoration and renewal:

‘Put your hope in God,

 for I will yet praise him,

 my Saviour and my God.‘   (42: 5)

‘Then I will go to the altar of God, to God, my joy and my delight. I will praise you with the lyre, O God, my God. Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Saviour and my God.’  (43: 4-5)

This time will end and once again we will rejoice to be together as the family of God rejoicing in all that He has done for us in Jesus.  

Still Quarrying 115 - NHS Blue.

I suppose I should have known this but I have just found out that the official colour of the NHS is blue.  As well as the 8pm appreciation clap for the NHS some public buildings like Lincoln Cathedral on the left were lit up in blue.   This is more appropriate than many people will realise.  We often speak of people having the ‘blues’, being down in spirit.  But in the tradition of the Church blue has always symbolised health and hope.  So from now on whenever I see the NHS logo that will be an opportunity to give thanks for the work of all medical staff as they bring healing and hope to the nation.  

I am personally much in their debt.  The sensitivity and expertise of the Beatson Myeloma Team over the last ten years has been exceptional.   I have also benefited from the work of the Stem Cell Transplant Unit  at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in recent days.   In my two weeks as a patient the dedication and personal attention of doctors, nurses, auxiliary staff, dieticians, physiotherapists and cleaning staff all came together to make bearable a demanding experience.  I continue to be under the care of the Myeloma Team who have been keeping in touch since in the present climate I am considered to be in a vulnerable group.

Mention also has to be made of the Kersland House Surgery just minutes walking distance away from our home.  Doctors, nurses and receptionists have given me the best of attention in the past and even now with the demands of this unprecedented time.   

I was clapping for them all last night but even better than that holding them in prayer trusting that they will be kept strong and safe.  

Still Quarrying 114 - From Loneliness To Solitude.

I have said jokingly to family and friends that I should launch an online tutorial on ‘self isolation.’  (Mates rates, of course).  When I was discharged from hospital on the second week of January it was with the strict instruction that I should practice some measure  of self isolation particularly as there was flu about.  Little did we know  that something worse was on the way.  So I am used to self isolation.  Not that I like it you understand but it has j become the pattern of my life.  It is just something that has had to be.  Certainly in the last two weeks or so I have become even more restricted.  At one time visitors were permitted as long as they were bug-free and willing to use hand sanitizer before entering into the presence.  That has now had to stop.

As with most things that challenge the human condition you will find isolation in the Scriptures.  In Psalm 38  David is in the throes of some dreadful illness.  It involves weakness, open wounds, back pain, palpitations, trouble with his eyes.  As a result of this friends and neighbours draw back from him.  (verse 11)  This may be because of his appearance or because of the association of sickness with sin.  David himself believes he is under the judgement of God.  Whatever the reason, he is very much on his own, isolated, lonely.  But he believes he will find relief in his God:

‘LORD, do not forsake me; do not be far from me, my God.  Come quickly to help me, my Lord and my Savior.’  (verses 21-22)

Here we all find the way forward when isolation leads to the nagging emptiness of loneliness.  Years ago I came across a book by the spiritual writer Henri Nouwen called Reaching Out.  In this he traces what he calls ‘The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life’.  The first of these is ‘From Loneliness to Solitude.’  Loneliness is painful and hard to bear.  In solitude we may be on our own but we are aware of God and the fulfilment and contentment that flows from Him.  Is this not what Paul refers to in Philippians 4: 12-13 when he speaks of the contentment he has found in God whatever his circumstances and how: ‘I can do everything through him who gives me strength.‘   This is a life that is constantly oriented to God and may well be solitary but will never be completely lonely.  

As with so many things, however, it’s good to get down to practicalities.  It’s good to aspire to the blessings of solitude but how do we get there?  How do we move from loneliness to solitude?   In one of his novels F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote of ‘the fine quiet of the scholar which is the nearest thing to heavenly peace.’  He was describing someone who had taken so much from study and at least for a time knew a deep satisfaction and contentment.   I believe this is possible with the spiritual resources we have to hand.  To lose yourself in a passage of Scripture or a prayer or evocative music or art is to open the way for God to touch us in the depths.  A Presence that leads us out of painful loneliness to the ‘heavenly peace’ of solitude.  

Still Quarrying 113 - Visitation.

I have enjoyed reading Peter Stanford’s book Martin Luther Catholic Dissident.  Standford describes himself as ‘a cradle Catholic’ yet he finds much to admire in Luther and is comfortable with many of his teachings and practice.  He is particularly impressed that often Luther worked through immense pressures which included periods of ill-health.  In 1517 it is possible that Luther caught a virus that was sweeping through Germany.  Luther was living in Wittenberg at the time and conditions became so bad that people were leaving the town in droves.   Luther stayed.  Standford writes: ‘Luther refused to leave the town.  He was willing, in this as in other matters, to trust to God.’  

There is a similar story in the life of the Swiss Reformer Ulrich Zwingli.  In 1519 he took a break from his ministry in Zurich.  That was disturbed when he heard that the plague was rampant in Zurich killing, it is estimated, one in three people.  Zwingli returned to minister to the sick and the dying until he was stricken down himself.  In time he recovered and wrote a hymn part of which explored his personal plague experience:

‘Will you, however, that death take me in the midst of my days, so let it be.

Do what you will, nothing shall be too much for me.

Your vessel am I, to make or break altogether.’

We can think too of Father Damian, the Belgian priest, who for sixteen years was pastor to the lepers quarantined on the Hawaiian peninsula of Molokai.  In the course of time he contracted the disease but continued to share the consolations of the Gospel until his death in 1889.

It may have been examples like the above which led Pope Francis when addressing  the present crisis to say:

‘May priests have the courage to to get out, going to the sick to being the comfort of God.’  

Bearing in mind the restrictions the Italian government and others were bringing in to combat the virus this brought criticism from many quarters.   Whatever you might think,  his comments highlight a struggle that many involved in the pastoral work of the Church are experiencing at this time.  And not just the ‘clergy’.  The hearts of many Church members are going out to the sick and vulnerable at this time but are frustrated in their desire to draw near to them.  Over the last year I have known that frustration.  I’ve heard of people sick and bereaved and been unable to engage with them at a level to which I have been accustomed.   

I’m tempted to say that in the end it is up to individuals to make up their own minds how they should show their care for others at this time.  But more and more this freedom is being curtailed.  Care Homes are in lockdown, crematoriums are admitting only five people for services, churches are closed even for private prayer.  What we have to remember is that this is not just for our good but the good of others.  The point I was making yesterday about faith involving our responsibility to others is relevant here.  Everything within us wants to be with those who are suffering but what may be the consequences  of those visits for others?  Might the visitor become a carrier?  And we have seen in so many public information broadcasts how quickly the virus spreads.  

Thinking of ministers and priests in particular, we may not be able to visit but we should have some confidence in the teaching we have provided for God’s people in the past.  We have preached the living Word that speaks of a God who has drawn near to suffering humanity in the person of Jesus Christ.  He has promised to be working out His good purpose for all His people in every circumstance.  He has shown in the sacrifice of Jesus that His love never fails even in the face of death.   He has assured His people of a place in His Eternal Kingdom through the Resurrection of Jesus.   We have preached this message.  Do we have the faith that it has taken root in the hearts of men and women and is their consolation and inspiration in these challenging days whether we are able to visit them or not? 

W.B. Yeats has a poem about an old priest called Father Gilligan.  He is under great pressure: ‘For half his flock were in their beds,/Or under green sods lay.’  It sounds as if the community was in the grips of some epidemic.   He receives a call to visit yet another of his people who is dying.  As he wearily prays in his chair before the visit he falls asleep.  Eventually he awakes in a panic.  What if the poor man has died?  When he arrives at the home he is greeted by the wife who is surprised to see him.  Hasn’t Father Gilligan already called and eased her husbands passage into Eternity through his ministry?   Father Gilligan is led to believe that some heavenly visitation has occurred:

'He Who hath made the night of stars

For souls who tire and bleed,

Sent one of His great angels down

To help me in my need.

'He Who is wrapped in purple robes,

With planets in His care,

Had pity on the least of things

Asleep upon a chair.'

I’ve often thought of that poem.  Those we are unable to visit can still know the presence of ‘He who hath made the night of stars/For souls who tire and bleed’ and know the peace that only He can bring. And of great reassurance to those of us called to care but frustrated by our limitations:

'He Who is wrapped in purple robes,

With planets in His care,

Had pity on the least of things

Asleep upon a chair.'

Still Quarrying 112 - Greatest Generation.

It has been called ‘the greatest generation’, those who were born in the first quarter of the twentieth century, came through the Great Depression, endured the Second World War and then became the foundation of the rebuilding of the nations.   It was my parents’ generation and in many ways I was shaped by their values that placed family, Church, care for others and personal aspiration at the centre of life.   As time went on I came to know something of their early lives and some of the personal struggles which drew on their courage and faith.

It has been said that the challenges that face us now are similar to those of that generation but in some ways they are unique.  During times of economic hardship and war there is always the possibility of a physical coming together and therefore the flame of community spirit burns brightly.  That has become difficult now with the more stringent restrictions that were announced last night by the Prime Minister.  Certainly we have all the possibilities of social media and the constant stream of broadcast news.  But it is not community as we have come to know and appreciate it.   Not being able to visit elderly parents in Care Homes, keeping close friends at a distance, thinking twice before we venture out - arguably we are facing a bigger challenge even than war.   

It is heartening to hear the consistent message of our politicians that we have within us the personal resources to see this crisis through.  And despite the thoughtlessness, the greed, the profiteering that has been reported people are looking beyond themselves to the needs of  elderly and vulnerable people, making sure that they have everything they need to keep body and mind together.  This is something that is uniting people of all faiths and political persuasions and stands as a welcome respite to the divisions that have soured our national life in recent days.  

But with all our human resources there is still a great need for us to be in touch with all that the God revealed in Jesus Christ can provide in this dark and demanding time.  The Psalmist writes:  ‘Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord . . .’  (Psalm 33: 12)  That was something King George VI understood.   In 1940 in what Churchill described as the nation’s ‘darkest hour’ with tens of thousands of British troops stranded on the beaches of Dunkirk the King called for a National Day of Prayer in which the nation could turn back to God and plead for His help.  Nothing is more vital now and may result in this being remembered as the greatest of all generations.  

Still Quarrying 111 - Others

When I was training for the ministry I was required to attend regular conferences.  On one occasion a senior minister spoke to us about worship and in particular the Lord’s Supper.  He very strongly advocated the use of the common cup as being closest to the tradition  established by Christ and as a powerful symbol of the unity of God’s people.  He dismissed reservations about hygiene saying: ‘It’s a sad indictment on us when we don’t trust one another.’  

That made a big impression on me and through the years was grateful for ‘evidence’ that there should be no fear in using the common cup.  The coronavirus crisis has shot all of this down in flames.  Before the cessation of services Churches of all traditions were moved to lay down strict guidelines with regard to the celebration of the Sacrament to prevent the spread of the virus.   This included the handling of bread and the sharing of a common cup

The message is that while we bring faith to the Lord’s Table that must include a sense of responsibility to one another.  This is relevant also with regard to the use of alcoholic wine in the Lord’s Supper.  I have known people with alcohol problems who have been anxious that this might set them back on the road to addiction.  A colleague once said to me that surely this can be overcome in an attitude of faith: ‘This will not happen.’  

I’ve never been convinced by that.  We bring faith to the Lord’s Table but that must include a sense of responsibility to one another.   Surely it is not too much to expect that provision can be made for any who have anxieties about the wine or indeed the bread in the Lord’s Supper.

Thinking about the other person is very much in the forefront of all public pronouncements at present.  A weekend of large gatherings at beaches and in parks and supermarkets has provoked strong statements from the Westminster and Holyrood governments.  The message is that this it is not just about ourselves, we have to be mindful of what we might be doing to others.  

This is never the easiest of things.  I have to confess that my head has been full of dark scenarios that might overtake me and mine.  What helps to lift me out of this is prayer for others.  Just yesterday an elder in St Paul’s mentioned his daughter in an email.  She is a London doctor under huge pressures at present.  To hear about that and other stories helps to shift the self-centredness which is spiritually ruinous.  Remember all those lists of people at the end of Paul’s letters?  People who had been a blessing to him, people who were sharing in his work for the Gospel, people who were struggling with their own personal challenges.  Paul was bringing them to mind even while he was dealing with severe pressures in his own life.  In essence he was living out his own repeated direction to his brothers and sisters in Christ that we should live to place the needs of others before our own.  (Philippians 2: 3-4) 

Still Quarrying 110 - Light Shining.

I’ve had to get used to not being in Church on the Lord’s Day more particularly since the stem cell transplant when my immunity has been low.  It hasn’t been easy especially when I hear Church bells ringing out in the community.  Now we are all in these strange and, frankly, disturbing circumstances.  We are so restricted that we cannot even go to Church.  I was speaking on the phone recently to someone who lived through the London Blitz. ‘It was terrible,’ she said, ‘But at least we could go to Church.’

It’s a big miss.  How many times has the experience of being with other believers been a strength and a comfort during times of personal challenge.  I’m sure this is what was in the mind of the writer of Hebrews when he wrote: ‘Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another . . .’ (Hebrews 10: 25)  My father died on a Saturday but I led the worship in St Paul’s on the next day.  There were many reasons why I thought I should but  a minister friend from Northern Ireland summed it up perfectly: ‘There are times when you just feel you need to be with God’s people.‘  

But even above the comfort and strength of God’s people there is the opportunity worship gives to proclaim our great priority in life.  The word comes from the old English word which literally means ‘worth-ship’, the act of proclaiming what is of ultimate worth or value in your life.  This is worship not just as self-help but as an act of witness.   When we step outside our doors on a Sunday it is with a definite purpose in view.  If anyone were to ask where we were going there would be a simple and clear response.  

From this Sunday we are unsure when we will be able to gather again.  It may be quite a while.  But as I was saying in yesterday’s blog we still have the resources that will keep us close to God, especially in this age of high technology.  The stories are legion of Christians imprisoned for their faith, confined in the most brutal conditions, and yet emerged as great examples of faith.  Whatever else had been taken from them they prayed and remembered the eternal promises of God.

It has been suggested by Church leaders throughout the UK that we light a candle in a window at 7 pm tonight as a symbol of God’s presence with us.  Whether you manage to do this or not the message is one we would surely wish to be in the hearts of all our communities: ‘The light shines in the darkness but the darkness has never overcome it.’  (John 1: 5)