Still Quarrying 100 - Here We Go!

Tomorrow I’ll have a Hickman line fitted in preparation for the stem cell transplant which will begin on Sunday.   This is a catheter which will enable the chemotherapy, the stem cells and whatever else may be required to flow more easily into my system.  I’ll be in the Queen Elizabeth Hospital for roughly three weeks.  I’m not sure how this will affect the blog.  My laptop gave up the ghost a long time ago but there may still be a way to keep it up.  Whatever, I’ll still be writing when I feel up to it so it might be a case of after the famine the feast.  

As I have mentioned in previous blogs it will be a demanding experience.  Nausea, fatigue, weight loss and hair loss are guaranteed and care needs to be taken with regard to infection.   I had my hair cropped last Saturday and much appreciated the kindness of all the staff at Taylor Ferguson’s.  I didn’t fancy coming out of the shower one morning looking like the Wolf Man so it’s practically all gone.   I got a bit of a boost when my pal Norman Stone told me I looked a bit like Elvis after his pre-army haircut.   Now that’s the kind of thing you like to hear.  

It has been strange standing outside Christmas but perhaps that has meant more time for reflection.  That has been helped by a novel I have mentioned in a previous blog: God’s Pauper by Nikos Kazantzakis.  It’s an imaginative take on the life of Francis of Assisi and follows his life of discipleship from the moment he felt called to give up his privileged life and serve God by serving those on the margins of society.  This involved following the example of Jesus in His compassion for the poor and outcast.  

Many before and after Francis have been touched by this strong imperative but it has to be remembered that Jesus did not hear this call to sacrificial living at some point in His life on earth.  Philippians 2: 5-11 takes us into the realm of Eternity where the Son of God came to a realisation of what was demanded to be Saviour of the world, that He should become a human being and give His life for the salvation of humankind.   Towards this end He ‘did not consider equality with God something to be grasped’, He did not hold on to His divine privileges but emptied Himself of everything that set Him apart from us, except His sinlessness, so that He would be the One to pay the price of the world’s sin.   

It is such a rich passage of Scripture.  So much could be said about it.  What is weighing most heavily with me at this moment is the thought that ‘loss’ need not be the tragedy we are conditioned to believe it is.  Jesus’ loss was His and the world’s gain.  Many Christian people will tell you that it was in times of loss - bereavement, sickness, unemployment - that they felt most powerfully drawn to Christ and went on to live lives that stand as an inspiration and an encouragement.  We admire people like that who have responded so positively to life’s challenges.  We sometimes forget that followers of Jesus are all called to live through the worst in the presence and power of the Holy Spirit and to trust that God’s plan for our lives is not being denied even by the deepest darkness that may fall upon mind, body or soul.

That is a message that we need to keep firmly in our grasp as we approach another turning of a year.  We have no control over the passage of time but we have the assurance of the One who promises: ‘I will never leave you or forsake you.’  

Still Quarrying 99 - Light In The Darkness.

Last Christmas one of my sons presented me with a book entitled Hark! The Herald Angels Scream.  It has a rather lurid cover as you can see on the left which is a guide to the contents, a collection of short horror stories all set in or around Christmas.  They all tend to follow a similar path.  The peace, joy and family cosiness that we all aspire to at this time of the year are all disturbed by some ghastly event which usually has a dark supernatural source.  

I can understand why you might want to turn up your nose at this and declare it unnecessarily cynical, mean spirited, even cheap.  But when you read  Jesus’ birth stories as they are written by Matthew and Luke they have a dark side which cannot be denied.  Think about Mary falling pregnant during a period of betrothal when sexual intercourse would not normally take place.  A challenging time for her but also for Joseph who has  to decide if the betrothal will continue.  Then there is the journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem in the later stage of Mary’s pregnancy, a distance of approximately 90 miles - and no little donkey is mentioned.  When they arrive in Bethlehem there is so much pressure on accommodation that the birth of the baby takes place in an outhouse or stable and he is wrapped in rags and laid in an animal’s feeding trough.  

It is some months later that the real horror breaks in when the Magi come on the scene.  Their contact with King Herod and their news that the Messiah has been born results in the deaths of all the baby boys in Bethlehem under the age of two years old.  

Jesus was born in a world where there was significant personal stress, where a nation was under the control of an invading power, where babies were born in squalor, where the slaughter of innocent children was ordered and carried out.   This is a long way from Christmas as we like to think of it but a light shines in the darkness bringing a hope that brings true meaning to our celebrations.   The Christmas hymn reminds us of the love that motivated the Incarnation:

‘Sacred Infant, all Divine,

what a tender love was thine,

thus to come from highest bliss

down to such a world as this.‘  

The world in which Jesus was born was broken and in need of redemption.  It is still the same.  Relationships are put under strain, people are homeless, political oppression causes untold distress, children are born in the worst of circumstances with little hope for the future.  It has been the same in every age but the Gospel tells us that in the midst of the darkness God shone a light with the birth of Jesus.  Here is the assurance of His love for humankind.  He calls us to embrace that love, to show it to those in need and to bring the Kingdom of God closer.   The hymn lampooned by last years Christmas book speaks of the purpose of Jesus’ coming:

‘born to raise the sons of earth,

born to give them second birth.’

It is as we experience the renewal that only His Spirit can bring that we as a people can being hope to our community, our nation and the world.  The angels did not scream on the night that Jesus was born.  They sang a song of hope and assurance:

‘Glory to God in the highest,

and on earth peace to men

on whom his favour rests.  (Luke 2: 14)

In a quiet moment this Christmas focus on these words.  What they tells me is that God believes in us, that His Spirit can dwell within us, that we can live our lives in communion with Him, that we can be the light in a dark world as Jesus envisioned we could be.  He said: ‘You are the light of the world.‘  (Matthew 5: 14)

Still Quarrying 98 - Hear The Baby Cry!

Years ago someone recommended a book called God’s Pauper by the Greek writer Nikos Kazantzakis.  It is based on the life of Francis of Assisi and possibly owes much to the author’s imagination but the picture of Francis which emerges is very much in tune with what we know about him.  At one point Francis is engaged in a discussion as to which is superior the mind or the heart and he recalls an incident from his childhood:

‘When I was a young student a learned theologian came to Assisi at Christmas time.  He mounted the pulpit at San Ruffino’s and began an oration that lasted for hours and hours, all about the birth of Christ and the salvation of the world and the terrible mystery of the Incarnation.  My mind grew muddy; my head began to reel.  Unable to stand it any longer, I shouted, ‘Master, be still so that we can hear Christ crying in His cradle!‘   When we got back home, my father spanked me, but my mother took me aside secretly and gave me her blessing . . .‘    

The point being that there was much of the preacher’s mind involved in the ‘oration’ and too little of the heart.  Perhaps it could be said that he obviously knew much about Christ but gave no evidence that he actually knew Him.  His words did not convey His presence and the  blessings that flow from His birth, death and resurrection.  

For the first time in the 37 years I have been an ordained minister of the Gospel I will not be preaching this Christmas.  But I will be remembering all my colleagues in many different traditions who will be seeking to unpack in their preaching what the birth of Jesus means for us today.  Far to often in the past I have been carried away with the thought that I need to find some new way of presenting this.  It’s then I remember the advice I received from a retired minister when I was just a baby minister:  ‘Just tell them the story.‘   We forget the power of the story and the monumental truths that are contained therein.  

So all you preachers out there, as someone who will be listening this Christmas,  tell me the story and pray for me and others that we will have a sense of Emmanuel, ‘God With Us’, that we will hear Christ crying in His cradle.

Still Quarrying 97 - Together.

One of the persistent side effects of the treatment I have been receiving has been fatigue.   For some reason it is at its worst at the weekend so attendance at worship has been limited.  That’s why it was so good to have members of the St Paul’s Choir gather in the Manse the other night to sing some favourite Christmas Carols.   The singing was lovely but just as important  was seeing friends again and enjoying a time of fellowship.   One of the problems of being ill over a period of time is that you can get used to being on your own and there can be a drift towards an unhealthy isolation.  You need opportunities to look beyond yourself and engage with others.  But even in days of health and strength we are only fully ourselves when we are in community.

Think of the vision of God that is set before us in Scripture.  The concept of the Trinity is baffling to many but there is little doubt that the earliest Christians experienced God as Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  So within the Godhead there is community, dynamic relationships that together express the Divine to humankind.   It is in those relationships that God is fully Himself.  Created as we are in the image of God we are fully ourselves when we live and work and recreate in relationship to others.

A favourite passage for preachers is Acts 2: 42-47 which deals with the quality of life experienced by the first followers of Jesus:

‘They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe at the many wonders and signs performed by the apostles.  All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need.  Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.’

The key words are: ‘All the believers were together.’  And thereafter the word ‘together’ is repeated twice.   Everything else that marked the Church, the miracles, the powerful preaching, all flowed from this experience of community, the heart of Christian living created by the Holy Spirit.  This  is why it was so important to the Apostle Paul  that anything that threatened the unity of the Church had to be dealt with.  Whether it was conflict over the the Gospel  or a breakdown in personal relationships there had to be a call to reconcile.  This is why the letters were written.  

There has sometimes been a tendency to look at the life of the first followers of Jesus, to recognise that there were disagreements and to take comfort from that.  Why get too upset about fractures in the Church when they have been with us since the beginning?  But it should never be forgotten that Paul and other apostles worked hard to hold the line  with regard to the cardinal truths of the Gospel and also to reconcile those who found themselves at odds with other Christians.   In his letter to the Philippians Paul makes an appeal to two women, Euodia and Syntyche, to resolve their differences. (Philippians 4: 2)   If Christians were faithfully to reflect the being of God to the society in which they bore their witness then there had be be a strong commitment to be ‘together’. 

The story of the shepherds in Luke’s account of the birth of Jesus can take us further along this road.  The angels came to them as a community.  It was as a community that they decided to go to Bethlehem.   They discovered Jesus as a community and as a consequence ‘they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child.’  (Luke 2: 17)   Whatever else you pray for this Christmas find some room for every congregation in the land that they will know a deeper sense of being together and  more surely committed to spreading the Word and drawing others into that togetherness that only the Spirit can create.  The night before His crucifixion Jesus prayed for the Church:

‘I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one—  I in them and you in me—so that they may be brought to complete unity. Then the world will know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.‘   (John 17: 22-23)

Still Quarrying 96 - Searchers For Truth.

I heard on Classic FM - so it must be true - that a role you undertake in a Nativity Play can shape the rest of your life.  How that places you if you were a donkey or a tree I am not sure but those who had more distinguished roles are given pause for thought.  As I shared on my Facebook page recently my grandson Busby’s acclaimed performance as a Wise Man was actually following in my footsteps.  The only time I was given a part in a Nativity Play was as one of those mysterious men who came from a far country to worship the King who had been born in Bethlehem.  

First off, let’s get one thing clear.  I don’t mind too much that they are called Wise Men  as in the Authorized Version of the Bible but the NIV translation is better: Magi.  This is more or less a direct translation from the original Greek and refers to a specific group of people. They are sometimes described as a tribe of Persian priests who were the intellectual movers and shakers of their day.  They were well versed in the science, medicine, philosophy and religion of their day and although some of them dabbled in the dark side of spirituality, the occult, by and large they were in the words of William Barclay ‘honest seekers after truth.’

We can only speculate as to how they knew about Jesus and how they connected him to the cosmic disturbance they observed.  But with their knowledge of religion it is not inconceivable that they possessed at least fragments of the Hebrew Bible.  From this source they became acquainted with the hope of the Jewish people that one day someone would arise out of their nation who would hold the key to understanding all the mysteries of life.  So it was with anticipation of an encounter with him that they set out on their long journey.  We don’t know how many there were only that they brought three gifts.  And they are not named by Matthew who tells their story.  But his original readers would understand why men like these would be interested in Jesus.  They were ‘honest seekers after truth.’  

This is where I would hope to connect with them.   The idea that being a Wise Man fifty-nine years ago has had any impact on my life is probably highly amusing to those who know me best.  But I can say that the search for truth has been important to me for as long as I can remember.  I believe it’s important for everyone although it might be expressed in different ways.  And that search is as important  now than it has ever been.   We constantly hear about ‘fake news’.  Politicians are persistently called liars.  We are told that there is no truth only what the individual recognises as truth.  The only absolute truth is that there is no absolute truth.  

It is in this cultural atmosphere that Christians are called to proclaim the message that the Word became flesh and lived among us.  He claimed to be ‘the Way and the Truth and the Life.’  Even more startlingly he said: ‘No one comes to the Father except through me.’  (John 14: 6)  The Magi were not aware of this when they came to the place where Jesus was but their response to him was entirely appropriate: ‘they bowed down and worshipped him.’  (Matthew 2: 11)  This is where the search for truth ends, acknowledging the One who embodies the truth about God and humankind and who has made it possible for the Spirit of God to live in us.  

25 December didn’t always belong to Christians.  The Roman Saturnalia and other pagan festivals were celebrated around this time.  So people should be free to celebrate Christmas as they see fit.  But at this time of the year I always cherish the hope that the cards, the carols, the services aye and the Nativity Plays will touch hearts with the truth that can only be found in Jesus.  

Still Quarrying 95 - Losers?

It’s almost two weeks since we had an appointment at the stem cell transplant unit in the Queen Elizabeth Hospital.   The ‘bad stuff’ in my blood although stubborn has diminished and it looks as if the green light for the transplant will be seen in the not too distant future.  As always I was impressed by the warmth and sensitivity of the staff particularly as they were outlining a procedure which will be challenging for the patient.  They can never guarantee the outcome but what is certain is that along the way there will be hair loss, weight loss, nausea and fatigue.   I’ve been aware of this from the beginning but at this stage I just want to get through it, take all the side effects on the chin and begin to put my life and ministry back together.  When I read that back I can see that it might come over in a superficially defiant way.   It could be another story when I’m in the midst of it all but this is where I am at the moment.   Praying that I will get a date soon, that I will be sustained infection free during the treatment, that it will be successful, that I will get back to myself before too long.  

What strikes me most of all is that I need to be prepared for a time of loss: hair, weight, strength, general well-being.  None of that is welcome but as I consider the event we seek to keep at the centre of this Season it is essentially a story of loss.  I once heard Donald Macleod say that Philippians 2: 5-11 is the Incarnation as seen from the perspective of the angels.  They had known the Son of God from all eternity and now they see him making himself ‘nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.  And being found in appearance as a man he humbled himself and became obedient to death - even death on a cross.’  

This is the Son emptying himself of all his diving privileges for the sake of humankind.  In a sense suffering loss that he and others might gain.   So at a basic level Jesus is on the side of ‘losers’, those who once had and now have to let go.  That’s a focal point for us all during Advent.  Called to lose those things in our lives that stand against God’s purpose for us, however painful that might be, that we might gain in Christ.   

Still Quarrying 94 - A Haunted Christmas!

It has been said that Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol is as much part of Christmas as holly and plum pudding.   I know for sure that at some point The Muppet Christmas Carol will be dug out in our house and enjoyed as much as it was last year and the year before.  That’s just one of the many versions that have appeared on stage and screen since the story first appeared in 1843.  So great an impression has it made that Ebenezer Scrooge has become a bye-word for everything that stands opposed to what is understood to be the spirit of Christmas.   Mrs Cratchit describes him as ‘an odious, stingy, hard, unfeeling man.’  That is backing for the narrator’s judgement early in in the story when he describes Scrooge as ‘Hard and sharp as flint, from which no steel had ever struck out generous fire.’  

Carol isn’t Dickens’ only Christmas story.   It’s success paved the way for four others all published in the weeks before Christmas.   None of them really hit the heights of Carol but they all have one thing in common.  They deal with people who have experienced shadows falling on their lives and find in the Christmas season the resources to make a new start.  

The Haunted Man is about a disturbed academic named Redlaw who is visited by a ‘ghost’ at Christmas.  This is really a dark projection of himself but Redlaw is told that it is possible to have all his painful memories of the past erased so that they will no longer trouble him.  He is hesitant at first but eventually is persuaded that this is the way to go.  In the process, however, he destroys any compassion he might ever have had for anyone in any kind of need.  Furthermore, he spreads that indifference to anyone with whom he has to do.  The depth of this tragedy is revealed when the ghost informs Redlaw that having chosen this state of being it cannot be reversed.  

Hope comes in the form of a woman named Milly.  She is daily aware of painful experiences in her past but has found that they are the source of a strong empathy with those who suffer.  Because she has been in dark and difficult places she is able to help those who are struggling with life’s challenges.  It is in coming into contact with Milly that Redlaw finds the ghost’s decree overruled and he is changed along with all those who have been affected by his inner darkness.  

In the end The Haunted Man faces us with the reality of the past.  It cannot be changed.  Nor should it be.  There are experiences that may embitter us but they can also shape us in a more positive way.  Even the things that are hurtful when brought to mind can work a better person in us.   Discussion of where Dickens stood in relation to the Christian faith will go on as long as he is regarded as one of our major writers but Redlaw’s response to Milly’s experiences is surely significant.  He recalls ‘Christ upon the cross, and . . . all the good who perished in His cause . . .’  Redlaw realises that it was in suffering that the greatest good ever was released into the experience of humankind, a good that is transformative.   The final challenge of the story is not to despise the dark experiences of the past or to seek their annihilation but to ‘keep the memory green’ and allow them to shape our response to the suffering of the present.  

This is what nowadays might be described as ‘a Big Ask’ but the life of faith is full of them.  How we respond affects the depth of our discipleship.  It is often missed that Advent is a Season like Lent  when we are called to self-examination and to aspire to changes within ourselves that will bring us more fully in line with God’s will for our lives.  Dickens’ Christmas stories  are a reminder that we all carry our inner darkness which affects others as well as ourselves.  But there is a Light which a regretful Jacob Marley was to discover too late.  As a ghost he reviews his life and laments: 

‘At this time of the rolling year I suffer most.  Why did I walk through crowds of fellow-beings with my eyes  turned down, and never raise them to the blessed Star which led the Wise Men to a poor abode!   Were there no poor homes to which its light would have conducted me.’  

If Advent and Christmas are to be meaningful then we need to raise our eyes to the Star that will lead us more surely into the presence of Christ, to stay in that presence, and to seek the transformations that only He can bring.  

Still Quarrying 93 - Telegraphing.

I was once taken to task for reading The Daily Telegraph.  There I was coming from the newsagent, bumped into a lady, not a member of St Paul’s, who after a cheerful ‘Good morning said: ‘Oh you don’t read The Telegraph do you?’  Well yes.  Sometimes.  I don’t like to think that I am so stuck in a particular political or social mindset that I cease to be open to any other views or perspectives.  I find it most alarming when I hear normally sane and intelligent people parroting party lines when a good dose of the BBC’s Reality Check might be more in order.  And anyway should not seriously minded Christians be aware of all strains of thought that are swirling around in the public consciousness in these most confusing times?  I think it was C.H. Spurgeon who in the nineteenth century said:  ‘We have to be aware of all the tunes the Devil is playing.’  

Now that that is off my chest I confess to buying The Telegraph last Saturday and was heartened to discover that its Christmas Charity Appeal is for Leukemia Care, a charity that exists to support sufferers and to raise awareness of this form of blood cancer.   The story of Hannah Mahoney, a 28 year old, who has been receiving treatment over the last year for a particularly aggressive form is highlighted.  One of the welcome aspects of Leukemia Care’s work for her is that it has put her in touch with other sufferers who are blogging or Instagramming.   Their experiences  and the ‘hints and tips’ they share have been a help and encouragement.  She says:  ‘There’s an active cancer community online, but it’s like Hogwarts - people don’t know it’s out there.  When you receive a cancer diagnosis, you can feel alone and isolated, but there are people who have been through something similar, and they are always there to offer tips and encouragement.’  

To an extent I can agree with this.  Myeloma is a relatively rare form of cancer, to some extent I suppose a cousin to leukemia, and to be in touch with other sufferers and to know that this is a shared experience can be an encouragement.  I have to say though that sometimes those experiences can be a bit disheartening when they have a less than positive outcome.  But on balance it’s always good to face the reality of the condition and to know what may be ahead of you.  

By and large I have found contact with other sufferers to be helpful and supportive, especially with those who have successfully come through the stem cell transplant.  There is no getting round it, it is a most demanding experience - nausea, hair-loss, fatigue, weight-loss, openness to infection - but to speak to people who have been there and come through to a good quality of life has given me hope for the future.  One fellow sufferer who is regularly in touch is Father Pat Currie of St Joseph’s in Milngavie.  What are the chances of two clergymen living less than 30 yards from one another sharing the myeloma experience?   Pat has been thorough it, stem cell transplant and all and continues to minister to his people with his innate cheerfulness and deep personal devotion.  His regular visits to Gabrielle and I have been a real spiritual and psychological boost.    It makes me think of the Apostle Paul’s words:

 ‘Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort,  who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.  For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ.  If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer.  And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort.’  (2 Corinthians 1: 3-7)

That’s a strain of thought that I hold on to.  I had never heard of myeloma until I was diagnosed.  It’s still not easy to find people who have been through it and there is such a wide spectrum of experience.  I sometimes feel that I am getting off lightly when I meet people whose experience has been catastrophic.  But my prayer is that if it falls in the providence of God that I come through this that I might use the ‘comfort’ I have received to ‘comfort those in any trouble’.   I don’t know if Hannah Maloney has any Christian faith but she has discovered the value of this in her own experience.  So yes I read The Telegraph, not often perhaps, but I am glad I read it last Saturday and discovered a fellow sufferer not out the woods by any means but travelling on with optimism and grateful for what she calls the Hogwarts community she has discovered out there.  Those who have received comfort and now are eager to share it.   

Still Quarrying 92 - God Of Love?

A meeting with the Consultant on Thursday and it appears things are going in the right direction.  The ‘bad stuff’ in the blood has gone down but not far enough for me to go forward for the stem cell transplant.   So another cycle of chemotherapy is required which will begin on Tuesday.  I was prepared for this but you can’t help having that sinking feeling when you think of more chemo.   The word ‘contentment’ is never far from my mind at present, in particular the apostle Paul’s vision of contentment:

‘ . . . 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.’  (Philippians 4: 11-13)

Contentment is possible when we look to our God for the strength that only He can give.  

Recently I came across a book that I probably haven’t opened in over thirty years.  It’s called Cancer And The God Of Love written by Melvyn Thompson who was Chaplain to the Royal Marsden Hospital in London.  I think it’s fair to say that there is more psychology in the book than theology but it is interesting to see how Thompson has sought to support cancer patients in his ministry and particularly what he perceived to be their immediate needs.  But it’s that title that set my mind working.  There are two things there: on the one hand cancer, on the other, the God of love.  How do we hold them both together?  It’s not easy.  And not just with cancer in mind.  Think of all the other shadows that fall on human experience.  

So where am I today in relation to what is probably the most challenging question for Christian theology?  Thompson’s book was first published in 1976.  I reckon I bought is a couple of years later when I was just beginning my studies for the ministry, eager to be a help to people in trouble and to have answers to the big questions.   The thing is, it didn’t matter  how much I read through the years or how much I listened to people who were going through the cancer experience, I didn’t know what it was like to have cancer.  Until now.   Part of me wishes that it might have come earlier so that I might have had a better understanding and better able to respond appropriately to cancer sufferers.   You could say that it’s not strictly necessary to have the experience in order to be a pastor to those in  need.  But you can’t help the thoughts that cross your mind.  

I doubt that Jesus suffered all the pains and sickness that we are prone to but His sufferings are set before us in Scripture as an assurance that He understands our weakness and is able to give us exactly the right kind of help.  And it’s there that we find the connection between cancer and the God of love.  We are coming near the Season when in the midst of glitter and Santa and reindeer Christians will be seeking some space to reflect on the Incarnation, literally the Enfleshment of God, His coming completely into human experience.  What prompted this monumental event was His love for humanity.  This was the ultimate assurance that He is with us in every experience, good or bad, light or dark, up or down.  One of the names given to the Messiah by the  Hebrew people was ‘Emmanuel’ which translated means ‘God With Us’.  And in the mindset of Paul there is no experience dark enough or painful enough to separate us from His love.  Not even cancer.  (Romans 8: 37-39)

I am aware that none of this will ever convince everyone.  Melvyn Thompson writes:

‘If this balancing of good and evil is a struggle for a person who has settled beliefs before encountering suffering, then the chances of one who has no such beliefs accepting them in the midst of such a dilemma become remote.  If a person appears to have no faith when good comes his way, suffering will scarcely give it to him’.

He is right to raise this.  Even those of us with faith struggle with the balance but the story of Jesus gives us the means to face the reality of suffering in our lives and not to be overwhelmed.  Thompson quotes James Martin in his book Suffering Man, Loving God:

‘The real problem of suffering is not the why but the how of it, not the finding of a satisfactory explanation but the finding of the means to meet it without being crushed.’  

I believe that in Christ we have that means.  We have the promise of His presence in every circumstance; the promise that His love is working in every experience; the promise that His purpose for our lives is never derailed by our pain; the promise that in the coming Kingdom what we see as puzzling reflections in a mirror will be made clear.  

Still Quarrying 91 - Advent Services.

‘It’s not even Advent but the Christmas season is upon us.’  So writes an English journalist in The Tablet, the Catholic magazine.    Proof of this was the restaurant opposite her office setting up Christmas decorations around Hallowe’en.  Well I can beat that.  A local garden centre was fairly heaving with Santas and reindeer around the middle of September.  It’s true.  It’s getting earlier every year.   The afore mentioned journalist says it’s all down to ‘commercial interests’ and not many of us would disagree.   But interestingly she is not content just to have a moan.  She poses a question: ‘ . . . given the despoliation of Advent  by commercial interests, what can a parish church do?‘   And not content with just posing the question she tells us what her local parish church did.  An evening of Advent silence was held which she describes as ‘intensely contemplative shared silence in a darkened church.‘  This she puts forward as an ‘antidote’.  

It was in this spirit that we started Advent services in St Paul’s.  Every Saturday morning  at 9. 30 am throughout Advent a half-hour service is held in which some of the traditional themes of Advent are explored.  It is often forgotten that at its heart Advent is a time for self-examination and a renewal of our aspiration to walk closer with Christ in our daily lives.  More opportunities for worship are therefore important when we can focus on the Word, pray together and express our faith in praise.  In the busyness and bluster that are often the characteristics of the Season this is our antidote.  

I won’t be involved this year.  At this point I’m not sure at what stage I will be at in my treatment.   But it’s good to know that the services will be continuing and my prayer is that the Christ who was, who is and who is to come will be real to all who attend.  

Still Quarrying 90 - Broken Glass.

You get an inkling that the way you are behaving, the words you are saying, the decisions you are making with someday come back to bite you in a tender area of your psyche - but you go ahead anyway.  And in time it hurts.  In the past I have often described this as being like broken glass in the soul.  And of course you feel it most when all the natural defenses are low.  That’s why being ill can be such a blanket experience.  We can accept all the physical stuff that is going on.  That is being dealt with through treatment or surgery.  But how do you deal with the other stuff.  I have written in a previous ‘quarrying’ about my friend who was seriously ill due to an attack of sepsis but whose main concern was the ‘demons’, the memories that haunted him, the shadows that fell across his inner being.  

In a sense it’s good that we pass through these experiences.  If there is darkness in the depths it is best that it is recognised and dealt with.  But it is never quite as easy as that.  The broken glass has sharp edges and the pain lingers.  Recently I have been a bit sore in the places where I take my daily injections.  Some antiseptic wipes have helped with that.  Is there a spiritual antiseptic that can sort out the soul’s infestations?  

Psychological tricks are sometimes invoked, like that practised by Danny Torrance in Stephen King’s novel now a movie Dr Sleep.  When something dark arises from his past he mentally places it in a box and shuts it away.  That kind of thing never works for me.   What I have found I need is to be reminded that in every circumstance in the past, right or wrong, good or bad, success or failure, God was present.  Nothing has ever separated me from His love as He has promised, that His love has made forgiveness and renewal possible, that while the dark stuff will not just evaporate with no memory lingering it need no longer hurt and His good purpose for my life will not be denied.  

This is where the Scriptures come in.  I think of the monumental figures: Abraham and David, Peter and Paul and I realise that I will always be at home in the Bible.  These boys and others carried some heavy baggage but by the grace of God it never became an impossible burden.  I am grateful that I can keep company with Paul who lived with the memory of having persecuted the Church and was committed to destroying her.  (Galatians 1: 13)  And yet he goes on to express his conviction that he was set apart from birth and called by God ‘to reveal his Son in me so that I might preach him among the Gentiles.’  ( Galatians 1: 16).  This means that the loving purpose of God for Paul was unfolding even in his moments of deepest moral darkness.   When he persecuted Christians, when he gave approval to Stephen’s stoning, when he made the decision to ask for authorization to arrest Christians in Damascus and bring them to trial in Jerusalem.   God’s loving purpose was still unfolding for Paul and bringing him to that point where he heard the voice of the the Risen and Ascended Jesus and Saul the Pharisee became Paul the Apostle.   The love of God for Paul was not extinguished, His purpose not denied.  

The memories lingered.  It’s interesting that as Paul approached the end of his life he was still conscious of a shameful past.  He was open about this with his close friend Timothy but the sharp edges were taken off when he considered how God was present always and working out His good and loving purpose for His life:

‘I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who has given me strength, that he considered me trustworthy, appointing me to his service.  Even though I was once a blasphemer and a persecutor and a violent man, I was shown mercy because I acted in ignorance and unbelief. The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly, along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst.  But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his immense patience as an example for those who would believe in him and receive eternal life.  Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever. Amen.‘   (1 Timothy 1: 12-17)

This is what we all need to dwell upon.   The past cannot be changed but neither can the love of God.  He was present in that moment that makes you groan with shame when you remember.   His grace was being abundantly poured out, making faith possible, enabling the love of Jesus to be experienced, opening up the possibility of renewal.    Paul had good reason to think of himself as ‘the worst of sinners’ but it led him to appreciate all the more the vision God had for his life.  Not a psychologically crippled failure but an example of what the Holy Spirit can bring out of the darkness that is so much part of the human condition.  

Bob Dylan once wrote about this:

'In the time of my confession, in the hour of my deepest need
When the pool of tears beneath my feet floods every newborn seed
There's a dying voice within me reaching out somewhere
Toiling in the danger and the morals of despair

Don't have the inclination to look back on any mistake
Like Cain, I now behold this chain of events that I must break
In the fury of the moment I can see the master's hand
In every leaf that trembles, in every grain of sand

Oh, the flowers of indulgence and the weeds of yesteryear
Like criminals, they have choked the breath of conscience and good cheer
The sun beams down upon the steps of time to light the way
To ease the pain of idleness and the memory of decay

I gaze into the doorway of temptation's angry flame
And every time I pass that way I'll always hear my name
Then onward in my journey I come to understand
That every hair is numbered like every grain of sand.'

Still Quarrying 89 - Something Happening.

Robert Harris’ latest book The Second Sleep is set in a time 800 years from a moment of world catastrophe.  Civilisation has returned to conditions close to those of the Middle Ages.  Christians interpret this as a decisive act of judgement brought about because of humankind’s over dependance on science and technology.  History is now moving towards the ultimate healing of the nations.  

Harris was formerly a political journalist and in a recent radio interview was asked for his take on on Brexit and events around it.  He said that he found the present ‘political narrative’ astonishing, implausible and ‘not easy to satirise’.  What interested me more than anything, however, was his comment that something lies behind Brexit that is not clear and that ‘something is coming . . . there is something in the air coming.‘    

People have been experiencing feelings like this forever.  Good and bad have felt on a personal level that they were ‘walking with destiny’.   ‘We can still rise now’ and all that.  Whether speaking out of faith in God or some indefinable, irrational conviction the impression that something is about to happen can be strong.    Within the Church there have always been men and women who have lived in expectation of immanent ‘revival’ or  convinced that the conditions for the return of the Lord have been fulfilled.  

Paul pictured this as a day of radical cosmic cleansing when everything that ever made us cry would be swept away, when the birth pains would cease and a New Creation established.  From the earliest days this has excited Christians  and many have claimed to see signs in their social/political climate that the return of the Lord was immanent.  Even in the first century AD in the Christian community in Thessalonika Christians were preparing for this to the extent that work and family life were being neglected.  In his letters to them Paul emphasised the importance of personal responsibility in all areas of life, living as people of the Kingdom as they waited for the Kingdom to come.  

This does not mean that we should not have our eyes on the end of all things when Jesus will return as Lord of the Universe.  This is where the whole of human history is heading.  But as Jesus Himself has warned it is not for us to know when this will happen.  What is imperative in these waiting times is that we embrace our responsibility to promote and live according to the values that will be established forever when He returns.  We are called to live as people who believe that ‘something is happening’  and the final outcome is in the hands of God.  

John Wesley was once asked what he would do if he knew the Lord was returning tomorrow.  He took out his engagement book, turned up the appropriate page, showed it to his questioner and said: ‘This is what I would do.’  There can be nothing better for us when the Lord returns for him to find us faithfully bearing our witness, carrying out  those things we have been called to do.  

Still Quarrying 88 - Oops.

Another set-back.  The ‘bad stuff’ in my blood is proving stubborn.  The current treatment regime has been judged to have done all it can so I am going back to the original regime beginning on Tuesday.   The ‘bad stuff’ has to be brought down as low as possible in order to ensure the best possible result from a future bone marrow transplant.   

It’s disappointing.  I had hoped I would be through the transplant before Christmas and possibly returning to ministry in the New Year.  That’s not now going to happen.  Moreover the VTD regime (Velcade, Thalidomide and Dexamethasone) is more demanding and going by past experience there may be some low days ahead.   But as a friend has commented, this will take as long as it takes and while there have been difficult days since March I am going forward with confidence in the medical staff, friends and family who care for me and pray for me and in God’s loving and good purpose which I believe unfolds through every experience.  And I mean every experience.

Just this morning I came across a verse in Psalm 112.  It means a lot to me because not long ago I texted it to a friend who was going through the cancer experience and had been told that things were not progressing as hoped.  The Psalmist is painting a picture of the ‘righteous man’ and one of his qualities is given in verse 7:

‘He will have no fear of bad news;

 his heart is steadfast, trusting in the Lord.’  

Very often that kind of description that we often find in Scripture can make us wilt.  We feel a long way from realising those standards in our lives.  But I believe they are there to give us an aspirational goal.  We may never make it completely this side of eternity but we see the qualities that God is seeking to make flourish in our lives and we are in no doubt what we are called to aim for.  Always remembering that our failures are seen through the eyes of a loving Heavenly Father.  

That comes through in the verse above.  A ‘steadfast’ heart could bring to mind hardness, stubbornness, intractableness.  But then we are told what a ‘steadfast heart’ is in the life of faith.  If we carry this at the centre of our lives we are ‘trusting in the Lord.‘    

I can’t be sure what lies ahead in the next couple of months but I am in no doubt as to my priority and supreme aspiration, to stay close to the God revealed in the life of Jesus and trust in His ways with me.  

Still Quarrying 87 - The Small Stuff.

Someone once asked me if I was a lark or an owl.   In other words, are you a morning person or do you come alive at 10 pm?   Well, it’s morning for me.  That’s when I do my best thinking.   It was pointed out to me by one of my University tutors that ‘burning the midnight oil’ was ‘unnatural.’  The thing to do is get a good night’s sleep, up early and into the work.  And that has been my general pattern throughout my ministry.    My best hours for prayer,  reflection, preparation for preaching have always been in the morning.

That’s not for everyone of course.  As a friend of mine used to say: ‘We are all beautifully different.’  Many people who heard Martyn Lloyd-Jones have said it was the finest preaching they ever experienced, yet he repeatedly said that morning was not his best time for prayer and reflection.  He was just not made that way.  

I think the message is that we should not get too hung up about the when and where of prayer and reflection.  It’s just that I am better suited physically and mentally for the morning hours and it is helpful to me to think of myself laying a spiritual foundation for the day whatever it may bring.  

The problem with routine is that if anything happens to knock it off you can feel disorientated and ill-fitted for the day ahead.  Since March routine has been difficult for me not least with the side-effects of various drugs.  I just don’t know how I am going to be feeling from day to day.  And even on a ‘good day’ things can get off to a shaky start.  Like the other morning.  I couldn’t find my coffee.  Somebody had tidied it away and I need my Santos and Java first thing.  My rocket-fuel!  Looking for it the door came off a kitchen cabinet.  These things are not meant to happen in a carefully ordered life!   As if I didn’t have enough to contend with!   You know how it goes . . . 

Let’s just leave these two catastrophes for the moment.  What came home to me - again - was how fragile is our inner equilibrium, how easily we can be knocked off balance.   Scripture tells us that we are ‘dust’ and it’s good to be reminded of that from time to time, so easily disturbed by the wind of circumstance.  We like to think of ourselves as strong, at least to be able to ride the waves of lost coffee and dodgy doors, but in the end can we depend on ourselves for the strength that is needed day to day and hour to hour even for the small irritations?  The Psalmist wrote: ‘God is our refuge and our strength.’  

I’ve often said: ‘Give me a crisis and I’ll cope.  It’s the wee things that get me down.’  All the more reason to to be aware that God is in the ‘wee things’ as well as the crises.   I’m reading the reflections of Fr. Daniel O’Leary, a Roman Catholic priest, penned during his cancer experience.  Time and again he focusses on the Incarnation, the wonderful and mysterious truth that God became man in Jesus.  One of the implications of this is that God is involved in every aspect of life.  Not just the Big Stuff but also the small, niggly things that knock you off balance.  If the Small Stuff is bringing you down then you need to remember that God is in amongst it!  

Did Jesus always have a perfect start to the day?  Were His tools always ready to hand?  Was there never an irascible customer to deal with?  Did He never bash His shin on His work-bench or thump His thumb with a hammer?  There is a romantic school of thought that would have Him floating through life never touched by the things that exacerbate us.  But it doesn’t make sense.  Perfect in His humanity he may have been but He was not always entirely in control of the world around Him.  Mind you, is that not what it means to be human? 

Have you heard of that book called Don’t Sweat The Small Stuff?  I haven’t read it but I think it’s one of those pop-psychology, self-help books that seem to be so popular.   The title has something going for it though.   The Small Stuff can make us sweat.  It’s where the darkness can get in to make us feel less than what we aspire to be in Christ.  I need to remember that when coffee can’t be found and doors are in need of a Master carpenter.  

Still Quarrying 85 - Knocking Off.

During this latest round of chemotherapy I have to attend a weekly clinic.  This is to check blood levels and to deal with any other issues that may have arisen.  At present things are looking good.  It’s just that my white cells are firing off this ‘bad stuff’ which is causing all the bother.  And the ‘bad stuff’ is being a bit stubborn at present.  The aim of the chemo is to bring this down as low as possible to ensure a better remission after the bone marrow transplant.   Nevertheless, as things stand there is nothing to suggest that the transplant will held back.

There are of course the side-effects of the chemo which are a constant struggle.  There are days when I feel very low physically, mentally and spiritually.  It’s not easy to describe to anyone who is not familiar with the chemo experience.  You seem to be in a kind of bubble that resists every attempt to break out and be more more yourself.   Making a better effort to pierce the bubble just leaves you more exhausted.  

This is where the combative imagery associated with cancer falls down.  We’ve all heard of people who ‘fought it to the end’ and so on but it is interesting that these days cancer charities are playing down this kind of thinking.   The truth is that there are days when the thought of ‘fighting’ is way beyond you.   You have to think carefully before you move; your thoughts are all over the place; you press against the bubble and it just resists all the more.  So what then?  Well from a Christian perspective you need to start with acceptance.  This is happening and it is serious .  The outcome may be uncertain but there is also God and and He is not excluded from the experience.  In fact, He is working in this for a purpose that may not be clear but it is going forward nonetheless.  

To think that God is not involved is to say that there are aspects of human experience into which He will not stray.   Suffering is part of being human.   We are all subject to pain, disturbance, frustration.  Are these areas where we cannot be meeting with our God?  The Incarnation tells a different story.  Jesus knew every shadow that can fall on human experience apart from sin and His decisive blow against the shadows was His prolonged and agonising death upon a cross.   His suffering pushed back the darkness to allow the light of forgiveness and renewal to flood the Universe beginning in the lives of those who trust Him.  The unknown writer of the Letter to the Hebrews tells us that His suffering completed His experience of being human and in that ‘he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him.’  (Hebrews 5: 9)  

How does this affect my response to the days of struggle?  I can start with the passivity and surrender of Jesus’ death and that through this God was working to redeem the whole Universe from sin and death.   I may be feeling totally ‘out the game’  but God is still at work to draw me closer to Himself and to deal with those things in my life that threaten to obscure the light of Christ.  That is how the early Christians came to regard their personal suffering and that what was required from them was patient endurance.  Not screwing up your courage, not gritting your teeth and getting on with it, not rising up and fighting it but aspiring to the trusting spirit of the son who believes his father would never cause him a needless tear.

There is a fight going on but not against the cancer.  In fact, from the perspective of eternity that is the least of my troubles.  The fight is against everything in my life that resists the call to obedience and faithful service.  In his book When Heaven Is Silent Ron Dunn tells this story:

‘A man visited the studio of a sculptor, and in the middle of the room sat a huge slab of marble.

‘What are you going to sculpt out of that marble?’ the man asked.

‘A horse,’ answered the sculptor.

‘How will you do that?’ the visitor asked.

‘I will take the hammer and a chisel and knock off everything that doesn’t look like a horse.’

Ron comments: 

‘I think it’s fair to say that God’s purpose is to knock off us everything that doesn’t look like Jesus.’

I don’t have any problem believing that this worst of times could actually be the best of times if I emerge more fully in Christ, more established in His ways, more reflective of His being.  What I have always wanted and yet perhaps not fully realising the cost.

Still Quarrying 84 - To Sleep Perchance To Dream?

The present drug regimen I am following requires me to take 40mg of steroids once a week on a Friday.  I can then expect to have no sleep that night.  Strangely the following day passes quite well.   I can’t say that I am abnormally tired and can usually even manage a short walk into the village to buy a newspaper.  (I take the long way round.) 

Sunday is different however.  That’s when I have the ‘crash’.   It’s hard to get out of bed, the brain is fuzzy and I have to really push myself to do anything.   That continues to a lesser extent in the following days with some improvement towards the end of the week.  Just in time for my next steroid day.  

I like to think I cope with it not too badly since I know what’s causing it and it’s only going to last for a certain time.  ‘All things must pass,’ sang George Harrison, although he was probably thinking about other matters. 

To get back to the sleeplessness, one caring friend was concerned that I might be lying awake fretting, paralysed  with anxiety, smothered by waves of despair.  It’s not like that.  You might say I would say that wouldn’t I.  But it’s true.  I’ve come to enjoy the silence.  I’m writing this at 5. 30 am after a totally sleepless night that has not seemed too long with the only disturbance being birdsong and now a faint traffic noise in the distance.  

I’ve been reading of course.  Night Boat by the Glasgow writer Alan Spence has kept me going recently.  Born in Govan he writes so well about working-class life in the sixties and seventies.  He became a Buddhist in his teens.  How does that happen in Govan?  Well in an RE lesson at school he heard a Church of Scotland Minister describe Buddhism as ‘religion without God’ and thought ‘That’s for me!‘  Discuss.  

The long night is also a good time to pray and the wireless will be on before long to keep that going! This present political climate has done wonders for my prayer life.  So honestly it has not been a bad night.  That can’t go on of course.  In Scripture sleep is described as a gift from God.   The Psalmist writes:

‘I will lie down and sleep in peace, 

 for you alone, O Lord,

 make me dwell in sleep.‘  (Psalm 4: 8)

‘In vain you rise early 

 and stay up late,

 toiling for food to eat  - 

 for he grants sleep to those he loves.‘  (Psalm 127: 2) 

It’s part of the essential nature of being human that we renew ourselves physically, mentally and spiritually in sleep.  Even Jesus needed a kip.  And He could take it in the midst of a storm at sea.  Read Mark 4: 35-41.   That shows how important it is for us if the Son Of God couldn’t function without it in His humanity.   But what I am experiencing now I can cope with.

I’ve always been a sound sleeper but not much of a dreamer.  At least I don’t seem to remember many dreams I have had.  I have heard it said that you always dream in sleep.  It’s a kind of mental effluent that keeps you healthy.  You only think you have had a dreamless night.  In fact you have just forgotten.   Well, maybe.  But it makes me feel a bit inadequate when I listen to a colleague who has quite vivid dreams that bring him powerful  truths to reflect upon.   Like the late Rev Murdoch Campbell, a Free Church Minister, whose writings have had a deserved revival in recent days.  He cherished dreams when Bible verses came to him in times of suffering when he needed comfort and when he mourned for the spiritual health of Scotland.   I read somewhere that C.H. Spurgeon having struggled with sermon preparation on a Saturday  woke on Sunday morning with his three headings!  And then there is John Newton who had a vivid dream in his teens which he was to reflect upon through the rest of his life. 

All of these men could point to the number of times in Scripture  when God revealed himself to men and women as they slept.   Jacob dreamt of a stairway reaching to heaven with angels ascending and descending and God at the top.  His son Joseph interpreted dreams.   God appeared to Solomon in a dream.   Joseph the carpenter of Nazareth was guided by God in a dream.  Even the Magi were warned by God in a dream of Herod’s intentions towards the baby Christ.  

I stand before all these examples amazed because my dreams when I remember them tend to be just plain daft.  However, there have been times in these recent months of cancer treatment and the ups and downs that come with it that some images have come of a different order.  Nothing spectacular you understand.  But I have recognised myself preaching to a gathering of people.  On one occasion I was celebrating the Lord’s Supper.   Just a couple of nights ago I  was leading a Bible Study with young people.  Nothing bizarre was happening.  Just me and the things I have been blessed in doing in the past.  

It would be good to have Joseph’s take on this.  But with all due respect do we really need him?  

Still Quarrying 83 - Refined Gold.

Years ago someone said to me: ‘The trouble with being a biblio-junkie is that you accumulate a lot of junk.’  There’s no doubt about that.  The number of times I have bought books not knowing when I would actually read them but convinced that the time would come.  And anyway who knows when they might go out of print?   The result is a pile of stuff unread for years and the scary thing is probably will remain unread after my days are done!  

I have made some inroads into that pile recently.  I came across an unread book by Martin Israel entitled The Pain That Heals: The Place Of Suffering In The Growth Of The Person.   The date of publication is given as 1983 and it is probably around that time that I bought it.    Even my dodgy arithmetic tells me that this was 36 years ago.  Just waiting for this moment to be read?  Possibly but this was a time when I was reading a lot about the place of suffering in the Christian life.  I suppose I still had a notion of the Christian life being if not problem free then certainly free  enough to enable an effective Christian witness.  I was surprised therefore to find a large body of Christian writing that testified to a challenging truth that brokenness in body, mind and spirit undergirded with faith in Christ actually enhanced Christian witness.  

A book by Harry Blamires, a friend of C.S. Lewis, was especially challenging and ultimately comforting.   It was called A God Who Acts and was promoted as an exploration of ‘the hand of God in suffering and failure.‘   At the heart of the book is the conviction that the pattern of Jesus’ earthly life could never be considered to be pain-free or ‘successful’ by human standards.  Only by seeing things through to the bitter end did He know the sweetness of triumph over sin and death.  

My copy is heavily underlined and I’m pleased to say my scribbled comments in the margins are not uncritical.  ‘Your opinion!’ appears more than once and at one point ‘I think you are going too far.‘   Nevertheless, I had never read anything quite like it and it would always appear in my top five of influential books.  

The trouble with this line of thought is that it could lead to an unreasonable glorification of suffering.  Blamires is aware of this:

‘ . . . I fear the complaint will be raised that we are making Christianity a religion of tragedy, perhaps even of despair.  But we are not.  Our immediate aim is to put suffering where it belongs, near to the human heart, because it is near to the Divine Heart; at the centre of man’s realizations, because it is there at the centre of God’s.  And suffering is not all sadness: still less is it despair.  Are the invalids amongst our friends the least inclined to smile?  Have we not sensed a deeper peace, even a deeper joy, on the bed of pain than on the bed of sloth or the bed of lust?  This alone is sufficient to prove that a faith which embraces suffering is not necessarily a religion of sadness or tragedy.’  

Martin Israel takes this further in his conviction that suffering is essential in the growth of an individual towards Christ-likeness.  Does this mean that the only life that is truly blessed is that which is obviously in pain?  I think Israel would argue that despite appearances we all know what he calls ‘the dark side of reality’ if not outwardly then certainly inwardly.  When we recognise this and seek the strength of God to overcome then we are led to greater Christian maturity.  

This rubs us up against the thinking in the Letter To The Hebrews where we are told that suffering is in fact God’s ‘discipline’ designed to lead  us into a deeper relationship with Him and a greater motivation to serve others in need.  It’s there in Hebrews 12: 7-12.   It might sound a jarring note to some but it makes sense of those times when we are most aware of our weakness as times when we appreciate and rely on the strength that only God can provide.   The Apostle Paul saw it that way:  

‘ . . .  I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.  That is why for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties.  For when I am weak, then I am strong.‘    (2 Corinthians 12: 9-10)

This is something that we need to use more in our pastoral care of one another.  The notion that if we are going through times of pain and disturbance then in some way we must have deserved it is still alive in the minds of many.   But as Wayne Grudem points out in his Systematic Theology if Jesus died so that we might be forgiven our sins God cannot be punishing us by sickness and suffering.  We should rather view the dark shadow times in our lives as God’s opportunities to draw us closer to Himself and to make available His resources so that we emerge more fit to be the witnesses He wants us to be.  

That is certainly the way the Apostle Peter looked upon the persecutions that fell upon the Church in her early days:

‘These have come so that your faith - of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire - may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honour when Jesus Christ is revealed.’  (1 Peter 1: 7)

Their suffering was an opportunity to grow as Christian believers and activists as they learned to trust more fully in God and His strength.  So when days of sickness and disturbance fall upon us the question is not ‘What have I done to deserve this?’ so much as ‘How can I use this time to walk closer with Christ and to serve those He loves?’  When Paul was preparing himself for a difficult visit to the Christians in Corinth many of whom had negative feelings towards him he took encouragement from the pattern of Jesus’ life:

‘For to be sure, he was crucified in weakness, yet he lives by God’s power.  Likewise, we are weak in him, yet by God’s power we will live with him to serve you.’  (2 Corinthians 13: 4).  

Paul’s faith is a call to us to accept the pattern of Jesus’ life in ours so that we might experience the power of God that is our strength to reach out to those in need.

Still Quarrying 82 - Darkness Not Dark In Christ.

It’s been a long haul and inevitable that I should be interested in the cancer stories of others.  I have written about some of them in the past eight months.  Obviously people of faith have featured most prominently but there have been others not believers but not to be ignored. Men and women who have coped with inspiring inner strength.  The best of those stories are those in which you connect with a ‘voice’, a sense of the person behind the words, a person willing to be honest, open and vulnerable.  The very best are those in which the person shares things they have learned about themselves and about God even while acknowledging the pain, disorientation, weakness and despair. 

What have I learned about myself?  Well, that might be the subject of future blogs.  Maybe.  What is most important is what I am learning about God.  Even as I write this I want to correct that.  Really it’s what I am experiencing about God that is most important.  I’ve always known about God.  It was in my head.  And it would be wrong to say that I have never had profound experiences of God and the love He has shown for humankind in Jesus.  (How I miss that experience in the preaching event that by the grace of God I have made a connection with His eternal truth and through His Spirit is enabling me to share that truth with His people!)  It’s just that some things I feel I have discovered about God on a personal level in the past I have been reluctant to share and to preach.  And these things have become more important, no vital to me in these cancer days.  Yes I have sometimes preached and written about ‘the dark side of God’, His judgement, His mysterious providence, His discipline.  (Discipline!? Careful boy.)   But when you get down to it, I have been nervous, reluctant to go there.  

So unlike Paul who in the face of breathtaking revelations from the Eternal World wrote :

‘To  keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me.  But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.’

(2 Corinthians 12: 7-10)

So unlike Peter who writes of all the blessings we receive in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus:

‘In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials.  These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.  Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy,  for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.’  (1 Peter 1: 6-9)

So unlike the unknown writer of the Letter to the Hebrews who without asking us to fasten tight our safety helmets and without a tremour of apology writes:

‘Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children. For what children are not disciplined by their father?  If you are not disciplined—and everyone undergoes discipline—then you are not legitimate, not true sons and daughters at all.  Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of spirits and live!  They disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.  Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees.  “Make level paths for your feet,” so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed.”  (Hebrews 12: 7-13)  

So unlike Jesus who knew that heavy almost soul-destroying darkness in Gethsemene such that His whole constitution - body, mind and spirit - threatened to come apart completely.  And yet Luke tells us that an angel was sent, an emissary from the Eternal World, to strengthen Him, to assure Him that the ‘cup‘ was worth the tasting for herein lay the salvation of the whole Universe.   Who sent the angel?  His Heavenly Father, who loved Him.  It’s what the Psalmist says:   

‘If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,”  even the darkness is not dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.’  (Psalm 139: 11-12)

It may not be a perfect application for a man with cancer but it’s a truth that needs to be grasped.  The Psalmist is celebrating the eternal presence of God in every circumstance.    The darkness is not dark to Him.  He is present in the darkness working out His perfect and  loving will.  

Even Gethsemene did not see the end of  testing for Jesus.  Many have been the attempts to soften the moment of Jesus’ dereliction, His anguish at the abandonment of God while He died on the Cross.  He had read the Psalm.  He had probably memorised it as a boy in the synagogue.  God help us to understand, He even inspired it from all eternity as the second person of the Trinity.  But now He experienced it, as one us, God in the flesh but still he cries out the most gut-wrenching words in the whole of human history:

‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’  (Psalm 22: 1)

In a preaching I heard from Professor Donald Macleod he once referred to the humanity of Jesus and how He identified with us completely even to the extent of knowing the loss of God.  ‘Tis mystery all!  The immortal dies,’ wrote Wesley in one of the greatest of all hymns.  And although some people don’t like to sing it Stuart Townend is right to invite us to sing: 

‘How deep the Father’s love for us,

How vast beyond all measure,

That He should give His only Son

To make a wretch His treasure.

How great the pain of searing loss –

The Father turns His face away,

As wounds which mar the Chosen One

Bring many sons to glory.’

‘The Father turns His face away.’  He saw this moment from all eternity, the moment of redemption for the whole Universe, the moment of redemption for me, through the suffering of the Son He loved. And Father take away my nervous reluctance to go there, You not only saw it You willed it for the humanity You loved.   A more courageous man than I, the Apostle John, said: ‘God loved the world so much that He gave His one and only son so that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.‘ (John 3: 16)

 Another one,  Paul:

 ‘He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?  Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies.  Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us.  Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?  As it is written: “For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.”  No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.  For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers,  neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.’  (Romans 8: 32-39)

Out of his love for us he did not spare His Son and from this we can sing:

Nor death nor life, nor earth nor hell,

nor time's destroying sway,

can e'er efface us from his heart,

or make his love decay.

I understand the difficulty in going down this road but please stay with it.  A minister made the headlines not too long ago when he said that believing that Jesus died for our sins on the cross is ‘ghastly theology’.  In stating this he struck at the core of my faith.  What sustains me at present  is the assurance that God has loved me so much that He did not spare His only Son to deal with the darkness of sin that separates me from Him and assures me of a place in his Eternal Kingdom.  So whatever darkness falls has not pushed God out or His love.  The darkness is not dark to Him.  The light of His loving purpose is at the core moving my life according to His pace towards the completion.  

I don’t know ‘the reasons why’.  Neither did that man I dare to call my brother, the Apostle Paul.  He looked forward to the Day when all that was unclear would be made clear.   It’s there in 1Corinthians 13.  Read it.  And not just the bit they read at weddings. 

 ‘Now we see but a poor reflection in a mirror; then we shall see face to face.  Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.’  (verse 12).

I’m amazed that I’ve written so much recently and not mentioned Ron Dunn, an American pastor, who experienced much darkness in his life but was a powerful witness for his God revealed in Jesus.  In his book When Heaven Is Silent he speaks about living with the question ‘why?’  He says something quite astonishing.  With all he has gone through and it is more than most of us will ever be called upon to endure he believes that at the end of all things when he comes into God’s presence in all the wonder and the glory the questions will not matter.  I’m with him.

The question for me and Patient Reader for you too is for this moment.  How deeply do we really know this God revealed through Jesus?  Oh and there is another question, how far do we trust Him?  This God whose darkness is not dark, whose love will never efface us from His heart, whose love will never decay, whose good purpose is moving on through the worst.  Ron wrote:

‘I confess I’m still trying to get an answer to my ‘why?’.  And I’m still getting the silent treatment.  But it’s all right.  I trust Him.’

I’m with Ron.