Still Quarrying: LivingThe Hope

An early start to the Beatson yesterday for ‘bloods’ to be taken.  This happens every month in preparation for a consultation 3 days later.  They have to keep in touch with the level of paraprotein in my blood.  This is what I call the ‘bad stuff’ which can cause all kinds of problems in other areas of my body.  I already have bone lesions, not catastrophic,  but worth the watching.  And there is always a concern that the kidneys might be affected.  To keep things as stable as possible I am on management chemotherapy but will be undergoing more intensive treatment at the end of the year.

It’s disappointing having undergone a Stem Cell Transplant.  Many myeloma people have enjoyed 10 years remission before the ‘bad stuff’ begins to significantly make its presence known again.  I had only 18 months or so.  But we press on and I know that in the Beatson I am in the best of hands.  

Back to yesterday.  There were a few people in front of me in the clinic.   I’ve written about the waiting experience before.  It tends to be quiet, sometimes tense.   In the beginning, yesterday it was no different.  Heads were down looking at magazines, newspapers and books,  eyes were gazing into the middle-distance, the inevitable phones were out and fingers were busy.  I don’t know exactly what happened but gradually folk began to talk.  About where they had come from, what time they had set out, what their past experiences had been at clinics.  Then we went deeper.  What kind of cancer do you have?  It was amazing the variety although there was one other myeloma person.  In thinking about it, we never got round to exchanging names but when when our numbers were called, the bloods were taken, and we set off back home, we carried with us a sense of other people how they were coping, how we were not alone.

Different people, different generations, different experiences but bound together by this disease which we are are told affects one in every two people.   This is a kind of community.  On Saturday I bumped into someone I hadn’t seen for a long time.  You expect the kind of routine catch-up conversation.  But then he told me he had been treated for cancer last year.  Immediately the conversation was at a different level and the relationship was deepened.  Once again, community.

This week in Advent community is very much on our minds as we reflect on the people of Israel who lived in hope of the coming of the Messiah and also the Church which lives in hope of a Second Coming when the whole of creation will be united in Him.  Living in this hope is not easy.  Scripture tells that from the earliest days the foundations upon which the Christian faith were established were being questioned even within the Church.  Scripture tells us that the moral priorities within the Church were confused and sometimes scandalous.  People were leaving churches where they were receiving apostolic teaching looking for something more exciting and more in tune with the moral and spiritual climate of the time.  

In face of this the apostles fought hard to sustain authentic Christian community around what had been revealed to them concerning Jesus and what implications there were for individuals in believing in Him.  This is why Advent is traditionally regarded as a penitential season, a time for self-examination and commitment to a more faithful walk with Christ.  That’s not easy when you see the emphasis on party and payment on the run up to Christmas.  But there must be quiet times for us all to consider where we stand with the One who has promised to return and how well we will reflect His glory when in His presence one day we will stand.   Scary thought perhaps?  But remember His project in coming into our lives is to make us more like Him.   And with His Word in our hands and His Spirit in our hearts we can as a community press on in hope.  

Still Quarrying: A Community Of Hope.

 The first Sunday in Advent is traditionally an opportunity to remember the ancient people of Israel and the great hope that sustained them through many a day of darkness.  They believed that God was in control of their destiny, that one day He would be revealed to the whole of creation, that all things in heaven and on earth would be united in Him.  

That is why the ministry of Jesus produced so much excitement.   There was power in His preaching and in the miracles He performed.  Was He the One appointed to establish the Kingdom of God on the earth?  It became clear, however, after His death, resurrection and ascension, that that moment lay further in the future when Jesus would return to the earth.  Then all the painful shadows of human existence would be scattered in the light of His presence.  

The community of Jesus’ followers generation after generation lived in this hope.  It was kept alive in their worship where the Word was preached, where Scripture was studied, where bread was broken and wine shared in memory of Jesus.   The apostles give much attention in their writings to the importance of believers meeting together and encouraging one another.  This is how faith is sustained, how it grows and is made strong for the challenges of life.  

I always enjoyed Advent as a parish minister.  Exploring the traditional themes clarified the role of the people of God in our day and kept the flame of hope burning.  I will not be leading worship in this Advent season but it’s a blessing to know that I will be part of a believing community in Renfrew grateful for what God has done for us in Christ and looking forward to the completion of His great project when Christ will reign throughout creation.  

In his latest book Faith Undaunted Donald Macleod reflects on Hebrews 11: 1: ‘Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things unseen.’  He writes:

‘I am sure of the Invisible, sure of what He has done, and sure that what He has promised will one day be done.’  

Still Quarrying: Fitba' Crazy!

 1978 was a big year.  I graduated MA(hons), started my studies for the ministry, was married.  And there was the World Cup.  Scotland had qualified and those of us smitten by football fever had high expectations.   The problem for me was that it was taking place in Argentina where a democratically elected government had been overthrown by a military junta and those who dared oppose were being imprisoned, tortured, executed or joined the ever increasing number of the ‘missing’, people who just disappeared.  To make matters worse Scotland played a warm-up match with Chile in a stadium that had been used by the government as a concentration camp.  The folk-singer and activist Victor Jara was tortured, murdered and his body displayed at the entrance to the stadium for all the other prisoners to see.  In an interview the Scotland goalkeeper Alan Rough recalled his shock when he saw the dressing room riddled with bullet holes.  But the game went on.  

At the time I believed that Scotland should withdraw from the World Cup and certainly should never have played in the Santiago Stadium.  I wasn’t alone.   There was a campaign with the slogan ‘Football Yes!  Torture No!’   I wore the badge and was amazed at the hostility it provoked.  Apparently there came a time when all this stuff about human rights had to be set aside and the football enjoyed for the ‘beautiful game’ that it is.  No one enjoyed football more than I but there comes a time when it has to be put into perspective.

One of my favourite books is Nick Hornby’s Fever Pitch.  He lays out his obsession with Arsenal FC and how in many ways it has been an enhancement to his life.  But he is also honest enough to admit how much football fandom can mess with your head.  How your life is organised around fixtures, the stupid arguments you get drawn into and your tolerance of the worst kind of behaviour demonstrated by fellow fans.  When I first read the book it was as if a mirror was being help up to a dark area of my soul.   I’ve often wondered if football makes you daft or if you are daft in the first place and football makes you worse.   Remember the old song:

‘Oh he’s fitba’ crazy, he’s fitba’ mad

 And the fitba’ it has robbed him of the wee bit sense he had.

 And it would take a dozen skivvies, his claes to wash and scrub

 Since our Jock became a member of that terrible fitba’ club.’  

It can happen.  Rob us of the ‘wee bit sense’ we have.  I could give you personal examples but frankly I would be too embarrassed.  

And now we have Qatar.  A country with no great tradition of football, an unforgiving climate for football, and that is apart from the dark shadow of her human rights record which has received much attention in the media recently.  Gay rights and the treatment of immigrant workers involved in the construction of stadiums has been highlighted but it should also be said that Christians are only allowed to worship under certain restrictions and missionary organisations are not allowed to operate.  But we are expected to set all of that aside and enjoy the football.   Sorry but I can’t do that.  I have always looked forward to the World Cup.  Most football fans will have powerful memories of the best players on top of their form.  But Bill Shankly was wrong when he said, however tongue in cheek,  that football was more important than life and death.   

Set the darkness aside and enjoy the football?  The fact is, football is not the priority in this World Cup.  It’s another example of the power of money and how in the end it calls the tune.  It will be hard to avoid it completely but I will not be making a point of watching a single game. 

Still Quarrying: New Home, New Study.

We were not at all sure that the removal men would manage to get my desk up a narrow winding stair and into the space that is my new study.  But without a scratch or a bump or any noticeable extra effort it was in and placed just where I wanted it.  A lot of stuff had to be given away or junked prior to the removal, some of it with regret.  But I wanted my desk.  It was surplus to requirements at Ibrox Parish Church where I was Student Assistant  from 1978 until 1980 and when it was offered I responded with covetous haste.   I remember lugging it across Paisley Road West to the flat we were renting on Copland Road with a little help from a friend and not counting the cost in energy or what passing citizens might have been thinking.

So it’s be with me a long time this desk.  Through student days, Cathedral days, Ardeer days, Milngavie days and now installed and ready for Renfrew days.   I was showing a retired colleague round the new house and proudly opened the door to the new study.  ‘Why do you need it?’ he said.   There’s nothing like a good pal to deflate you.  But I suppose it’s a good question.  I mean, I’m retired.  But I’ve just got so used to a place where I can focus on God’s Word and seek to learn from the written wisdom of Christian men and women down through the centuries.   And I don’t like to think that my preaching days are over.  I’m praying that health and treatment allowing I might be available to colleagues who need an old guy to come off the bench and give them a break.  

When we first came to Milngavie I was showing a friend round the Manse and eventually came to the study.  He said: ‘So this is where it all happens.’   I’ve never forgotten that.  Preaching needs work and sometimes it is hard but along with that something needs to happen.  There has to be a meaningful connection with the truth beneath the text of the Bible and that is the work of the Holy Spirit.  That needs to happen.  And it doesn’t end there.  After the quarrying comes the delivery to be done no matter how the preacher is feeling, no matter how low he may be within himself, no matter the temperature of his faith and what burdens he may be carrying - and for that something needs to happen.   The Spirit needs to take what has been revealed in the study to the minds and hearts of God’s people.  

The apostle Paul was conscious of this.  Towards the end of his letter to the Ephesians he made this plea to God’s people:

‘Pray also for me, that whenever I open my mouth, words may be given me so that I may fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel . . .’  

Paul may have been one of the foremost intellectuals of his day but he recognised that if he was to truly preach, something needed to be given, something needed to happen.  It wasn’t just one person ‘six feet above contradiction’ as preaching has been described.  It is a communal event.  Preacher, people and the Spirit.   And there is nothing like that experience.   E.M. Bounds wrote in 1890:

‘The preacher’s vocation will not end while a single soul remains to be ripened for heaven or while warfare against sin is to be waged.  Not till the angel, with one foot on sea and one on land, with uplifted hand and oath, arrests time and dissolves it into eternity, shall the preacher’s vocation end, his commission be cancelled.  Preaching can have no substitute or rivals; to discount or retire it is to discount and retire God.’  

With that vision before me I’m praying that the old desk will see the beginnings of future service for the Kingdom.  

Still Quarrying: Living.

Set in the early 1950s, a local authority civil servant played  by Bill Nighy is given a cancer diagnosis and faces the challenge of how to live out his remaining months.  There are hints that there was once vitality and hope in his life but all this has diminished to the extent that he merits the nickname ‘Mr Zombie’ given to him by one of his younger colleagues.  I’ve been guilty in the past of wandering into plot spoiler territory when speaking of movies and television programmes so there I will stop.  Except to say you will do yourself a favour if you take this one in and absorb its life affirming message.  

Mind you, with what I have given you that might not seem to be the most enticing prospect.    The storyline is not exactly unfamiliar, a man facing his mortality and how he responds.  But Kazuo Ishiguro’s script shows that there is still much to be gathered in this well trodden path.  Many people in communities all over the world are waking up today with Mr Williams’ challenge before them.  And there comes a point for all of us when  circumstances bring us to consider how we will live out what remains of our lives.  

Perhaps that’s what motivated the man who approached us after the screening and asked what we made of it.  That doesn’t happen very often and it was good to spend some time with this stranger and to listen as he shared the effect the film had made on him.    But it’s a film that you want to talk about because in the end Mr Williams’ challenge is one we all face.  As each day brings us closer to death how can we make the most of our lives?  Can it be said that we are truly living?  

Jesus once told a story about a man who would never be nicknamed ‘Mr Zombie’.  A rich landowner, he had worked hard to produce a spectacular crop which would enable him to take early retirement.  He now looked forward to many years in which in his own words he could ‘Take life easy; eat drink and be merry.’   But in the providence of God hours after he made this resolution his life came to an end.  Where now were his plans?  

Jesus’ comment on the story cuts deep.  ‘This is how it will be with anyone who stores up things for himself but is not rich towards God.’  (Luke 12: 21).  I like the way Eugene Petersen paraphrases this: ‘That’s what happens when you fill your barn with Self and not with God.’  

I’m glad they still make films like this.  I hope it will be well viewed and just as importantly well discussed.  

Still Quarrying: Home.

After 34 years of living in the same house you have to expect some spasms of sadness when you finally leave it.  The Manse of St Paul's will always have the happiest of associations which will be with us through whatever years lie ahead.  The new house in Renfrew, however is taking shape and perhaps surprisingly quickly has taken on the ambience of 'home.'   Just this week we spent a very pleasant morning hanging pictures on the walls of the sitting room.  And they don't just have a decorative value.  Most of them were painted by friends and their creativity has brought a new warmth to the room.

One of the most enduring images of the life to come is of a 'going home.'  The apostle Peter speaks of believers being 'aliens and strangers in the world.'  (1 Peter 2: 11).  We are in the world and we are called to engage with it, to bring men and women to a knowledge of Jesus, but we can never allow ourselves to be shaped by the world in its resistance to God.  In that respect believers will always be 'aliens and strangers' in their values and priorities, never completely at home in the world. 

I personally feel the challenge of this more and more as I get older.  Having reached a place of institutional eminence in the West, in many ways the Church has become indistinctive from the ‘world’.  Someone once said that in the beginning the Church invaded the world, now the world has invaded the Church.   As a consequence people of many Christian traditions are feeling more and more uncomfortable in the place that they should feel is their spiritual home.  

Certainly everything that involves human beings will always fall short.  The apostolic letters were written to sort out problems that had arisen in first century Christian communities.  We also have to be careful of idealisation.  For many people the place called home has associations of disturbance and abuse.  Horrific examples of cruelty to children in the place where you would expect them to be cherished and protected continue to come to light.   This is a corrective to being over sentimental about the idea of ‘home’ but it is no reason to soft-pedal on our hope that we can be more faithful to the values and the truths that will dominate creation when the Kingdom of God is fully established.   Scripture holds before us an image of Christian communities where seekers can learn he truth about God and where those who have experienced the worst in life can find a place of healing.  

The pictures in our new home are not just decorative.  They speak to us of valued relationships, of people who have supported us in times of challenge and joined with us in our days of celebration.  They speak to us of the wider community of Christ which will sustain us in our journey to the ultimate home that Jesus has promised.

‘In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so I would have told you.  I am going    there to prepare place for you.’   (John 14: 2)