Still Quarrying: Wheat And Weeds.

 There have been horrific acts of violence reported in the media in the past week not least the chemical assault on a mother and her children by Abdul Ezedi  granted asylum from Afghanistan by the British government.  Much has been made in the media that Ezedi’s third successful application for asylum was influenced by his conversion to Christianity.  In a radio interview Robert Jenerick, former Minister of State for Immigration, warned against spurious claims for asylum supported by ‘well well-meaning but naïve vicars and priests.’   

 

Phillip North, the Anglican Bishop of Blackburn, has responded to this by outlining the preparation that is required by anyone wishing to join the Church of England.  But of more significance was his argument that no matter how faithful someone might have been in their church attendance and their willingness to take vows of membership it is impossible to look into their souls to ascertain where they actually stand with Jesus Christ.  In the end the granting of asylum is the responsibility of government and not the Church.  

 

This is exactly what was going through my mind.  I am not the only minister who has seen people through preparation for membership, heard them take vows of membership before God and a congregation, only to see them disappear like the proverbial snow off a dyke, usually when the wedding or baptism has taken place, or the first flush of enthusiasm has died.  I never found it easy just to mentally shrug my shoulders with a some you win some you lose attitude.  Questions arise as to how we do things in the Church.  Have we reduced membership to the level of any other club or organisation when Jesus made it clear that discipleship involved first and foremost

Commitment to Him and the taking up of a cross?  

 

But it’s the Bishop’s point that stands.  We cannot look into people’s souls to ascertain where people stand with Jesus Christ. Jesus warns us against passing judgment on people’s eternal souls and taking precipitate action against those who may raise questions in our minds with regard to their commitment.  He told a story about a farmer who sowed wheat which an enemy tried to spoil by sowing weeds.  The farm hands wanted to pull up the weeds, but the farmer refused.  Even more damage could be done to the crop.  ‘Let both grow together until the harvest.’  (Matthew 13: 24-30)

 

That is a challenge to us all.  But as with many things, when we find ourselves reacting against others in the Church, how do we look from the perspective of eternity, in the eyes of the only One who looks into our depths?  

Still Quarrying: Riding The Bumps.

 After the Stem Cell Transplant in 2020 a doctor friend revealed that his greatest anxiety for me was that I would pick up an infection during the process.

  For a period of time, I would virtually have no immune system, all my childhood inoculations would be wiped out, and when I was eventually discharged it would be with a compromised immunity. This was just before we were beginning to feel the impact of Covid-19.  So, when it hit us I was classified as highly vulnerable and strongly advised not to stray beyond my doorstep.  

 

I don’t think I realised at the time how dangerous those months were for me.  Recent events have brought that home.  I’ve had coughs and sniffles over the last few years but at the beginning of November it reached a new level.  The persistent cough and breathlessness became so bad that eventually I contacted the Beatson cancer help line.  That led to an admission to the Assessment Unit where it was discovered that I had picked up a Respiratory Syncytial Virus (RSV).  There was nothing much that could be done in the way of treatment except to go home, stay warm, and avoid contact with other people as far as possible. Obviously if things got worse, I would need to be admitted but for the time being yet again it was a case of ‘watch and wait’.  

 

It was disappointing.  I had hit another of those bumps that frequent this cancer life.  The physical discomfort is bad enough but then come the waves of frustration, irritation, and even anger.  And that is followed by the burden of not coping in a way that I think is appropriate for someone who seeks to have his life defined by an awareness of God the Father, the teaching and example of His Son Jesus, and the power of His Holy Spirit.  

 

How many hours have been spent meditating on the Scriptures?  How many insights have I gathered from fellow believers going through their worst of times? How many opportunities have there been to take the truths I have gathered and seek to encourage and help others through preaching and counsel?  Where now are those moments when an unmistakable Presence has supported me when the darkness was deepest?  

 

It sometimes feels as if all of this has been wiped out as I feel the judder of another ‘bump’.  But what if these times come to us to further demonstrate just how personal and powerful God can be in our lives.  Stripped to the bone spiritually where is our help, our strength, and our hope?  If I were dealing with someone like me in my days of regular pastoral work I would be encouraging her to focus on the constant testimony of believers in Scripture and in the history of the Church that no darkness has ever mastered the light of Christ, that nothing will ever separate us from the love of God, that God in Christ has overcome the suffering and death that threatens to destroy our quality of life.

 

Still in the grip of the RSV I heard a powerful message from a Welsh preacher on BBC Radio 4’s Sunday worship.  He was focused on John 11: 35.  Jesus’ response to the death of Lazarus and the effect this had on those who were closest to him: 

 

 ‘Jesus wept’. 

 

The Son of God felt the pain of corruption and death even as He knew that this was not the end for Lazarus.  Holding suffering and hope together is the ultimate challenge for many Christians at a personal level.  But the life, death and resurrection of Jesus shows us that despite the pain, the frustration, the despair we are given good reason to hope.  God was in Christ angered by disease, disturbed by death, but holding in his heart the ultimate purpose of the coming Kingdom where no darkness would fall.  The apostle John’s visions contained one showing the triumph of the Kingdom:

 

‘He will wipe away every tear from their eyes and death shall be no more.

 Neither shall there be mourning or crying or pain anymore,

 For the former things have passed away.’  (Revelation 21: 4.)

 

We will never cease to hit the ‘bumps’ and ask the question why?  We see this all through Scripture.  Listen to David, Job, Jeremiah.  So many others,  even the Son of God as He suffered.  But drawing near to these supreme witnesses we pray for grace not just to admire them or take comfort from them but to live their way in every circumstance.   

Still Quarrying: When The Bell Rings.

Over the last few years, I’ve spent a bit of time in the Beatson cafeteria.  It’s a good place to have coffee, read, and await my chauffeuse to bear me home in her motor car.  (I’m not driving at present.  Concentration a bit suspect.)   From time to time, you hear a bell ringing.   Installed for those who have completed their treatment it sends out a message:

 

Ring This Bell 

Three Times well.

My treatment’s done,

This course is run,

AND I AM ON MY WAY!

 

The cafeteria is usually crowded so the sound of the bell is greeted with applause, cheers and hugs.  And a wide smile, and sometimes tears, from the patient looking forward to better days.

 

I heard the bell a week past on Monday and it occurred to me, nor for the first time, that as things stand, I will never ring that bell.  There is no absolute cure for Multiple Myeloma although in in my case I have been assured that as long as I continue with the chemotherapy and other medication the disease can be considered to be under control.  

 

It sounds a bit morbid, but it is not unusual for people to have medical conditions that require them to be on life-long treatment.  My mother was diagnosed with angina in her mid-fifties which remained with her until her death at age 88.  As with many things what matters is how we respond to the challenges that fall to us, making adjustments to lifestyle and aspiring to be content. 

 

When the bell rings I’m reminded of the words of the Apostle Paul in his letter to the Christians in Rome.   After a heavy theological discourse Paul shows us how it must all be put into practise.  In the midst of a scattergun list of practical application he writes:

 

‘Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.’  (Romans 12: 15)

 

I suppose there was a time when I would have thought it more difficult to mourn with those who mourn.   But experience has taught me that it can be more difficult to rejoice with those who rejoice.  When someone is being blessed in a way that is eluding you  it can be very difficult to connect with their spirit of rejoicing.  But like so many things when it comes to a Biblical quality of life, we are persistently called to aspire to those things that are best for us and for those around us.  That needs help as Paul learned when he prayed continually for healing from pain and did not appear to be receiving an answer.  God’s word to him was:

 

‘My grace is made suffient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’  (2 Corinthians 12: 8)

 

The bell may never ring but the Gospel rings our with promises that will never fade.  

 

Still Quarrying: Fresh, Green, Proclaiming.

 Here’s a thing.  What is the connection between Hercule Poirot and Psalm 92? 

 

Yesterday one of my morning psalms was Psalm 92, a song of praise to God for His love and faithfulness, His creative power and His sovereignty in a world where wickedness seems to have the upper hand.  The psalm ends with an assurance that those who are faithful to God will show signs of His rule in the here and now:

 

‘The righteous will flourish like a palm tree,

they will grow like a cedar of Lebanon;

planted in the house of the Lord,

they will flourish in the courts of our God.

They will still bear fruit in old age,

they will stay fresh and green,

proclaiming ‘The Lord is upright,

He is my Rock, and there is no wickedness in Him.’ (vv. 12-15) 

 

What caught my attention particularly was vv. 14-15:

 

‘They will still bear fruit in old age,

they will stay fresh and green,

proclaiming ‘The Lord is upright,

He is my Rock, and there is no wickedness in Him.’

 

I had a birthday the other day which brings me within one year of the biblical ‘three score years and ten’.  So, it was good to read that as far as God is concerned we are never over the hill, passed it, burned out.  To the end of our lives, we ‘bear fruit’, we stay ‘fresh and green’, we continue to serve by proclaiming the great truths concerning God and His ways. 

 

These assurances were still glowing within when we went to see the new Poirot movie, ‘A Haunting In Venice.’  (Kenneth Branagh as Poirot will never surpass David Suchet in my eyes but it’s always good to have your prejudices challenged.). Poirot has retired and is living very privately in Venice.  He has taken great steps to avoid being drawn into further detective work even to the extent of hiring a bodyguard to keep people and their problems at a distance.   But there would not be a movie if this remained the state of affairs and very soon we see Poirot drawn into the work that has made him world-famous.  

 

That’s the only spoiler you will get.  But it was good Saturday afternoon entertainment and remarkable to me that there was a connection with Psalm 92.  In the end Poirot bears fruit in old age, shows himself to be fresh and green, and is ultimately fulfilled in the work he was destined to do.  

 

There have been a few challenges for me in retirement, not least the continuing treatment that leaves me below par for half the week.  But more that anything is the absence of preaching.  It is not something that can readily be put into words, but colleagues will know what I mean when I say that you are never more fulfilled when out of your reflection on God’s Word a message emerges which you are called to deliver to God’s people.  This is not to say that it comes easy.  There are battles to be fought in the preparation and in the very act of delivery but the fulfilment in the end is beyond anything else in human experience. 

 

When this is no longer a regular part of your life there is a sense of incompleteness at the centre of your inner being.  So, it has been a blessing recently to have the opportunity to preach in our parish church, Renfrew Trinity, and a few weeks ago in St. Andrew’s Trinity in Johnstone.  And I am looking forward to the couple of gigs I have in the diary.  It’s good to be still involved even if in a limited way.  And to do so in the assurances that come from Psalm 92 that I can bear fruit in old age, stay fresh and green and proclaim what I know to be true concerning the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.  

Still Quarrying: Broken Trust: 'The Devil Amongst Us'?

When you are facing long-term medical treatment there are certain qualities that you have to learn to develop: patience, resilience, contentment.    But chief among these qualities is trust.  I’ve heard myself say to people throughout my time under treatment that you have to come to the place where you are content to let people do things to you in the faith that this is the best way forward for you.    Demanding scans, needles, cannulas, drugs that take the feet away from you.  But all prescribed and given in the confidence that this is for the good.  And we are called upon to accept the judgement of the medics.  The responsibility they carry is monumental.  They may be prescribing treatment that will initially make us feel worse, but the intention is that ultimately it will at least improve our quality of life or, indeed, cure.  And we trust them.

 

It's with this mind, that I am most disturbed by the Lucy Letby case.  Surely it is the biggest challenge in the whole area of trust to place the life of your baby in the hands of another.  If it’s difficult enough to place your own life in the hands of another, how much more when it is your baby?  And Lucy Letby continually reassured parents with the words: ‘Trust me I am a nurse.’  When something good is twisted and made to become an opportunity for evil then spiritually this is one of the worst things.  

 

Jesus was once accused of driving out demons by the power of Beelzebul.  He responded by saying that anyone who speaks against the Holy Spirit is beyond forgiveness.  (Matthew 12: 32) Once you say God is bad the pathway to Him is blocked off.  What Lucy Letby did was to distort something that is good, trust, and make it the gateway for abuse and death.  

 

And what of Lucy Letby?  She has received the most severe custodial sentence since the abolition of capital punishment.  She will spend the rest of her life in jail.  Added to her crimes has been her refusal to attend court to hear the Judge’s remarks and the experiences of the parents whose lives she has affected irrevocably.  A last demonstration of control which seems to be part of her mindset.  

 

But what of her now?  I caught sight of a tabloid headline yesterday which topped a photograph of Lucy Letby with the words: ‘Proof That The Devil Is Amongst Us.’ 

She is deemed to be beyond normal human society and few would argue with that.  But in her lifetime as it stretches out before her is there no hope that there could be repentance?  Is it the case that the road to God is eternally blocked off to her?  I recent sang in Church Frances Crosby’s hymn with the verse:

 

O perfect redemption, the purchase of blood,

To every believer the promise of God;

The vilest offender who truly believes.

That moment from Jesus a pardon receives.’

 

In the latest revision of the Church of Scotland hymnbook that third line has been changed to ‘for every offender who truly believes/ that moment from Jesus a pardon receives.’  An updating of language?  Or a call to recognise that that there is no category of sinners - and we are all sinners - which is uniquely beyond the mercy of God?  

 

We need to pray for great humility when it comes to speculating on the eternal souls of others.  My overriding thought at this moment is that in prison Lucy Letby will come into touch with some Christian influence, a Chaplain, another prisoner, who will be used to bring about that radical change Paul spoke of when he said that those who are in Christ are a ‘new creation.’  

 

Final word.  Confronted with the worst in human conduct it is never inappropriate to look to ourselves for those times when we have hurt others or burned against them inwardly and stood in need of the mercy of God.   

Still Quarrying: Monday Memory.

 My treatment schedule has me at the Beatson for chemotherapy for three consecutive weeks, then a week’s break before it starts over again.  Each session can be for around two and a half hours but sometimes longer.   A lot depends on how busy the staff are or how soon the chemotherapy is sent up from the Pharmacy.   Usually, it doesn’t matter too much.  As long as I have a book I’m fine.  And the nurses pop in from time to time to see how things are and sometimes just for a chat.  Last Monday I was discussing tattoos with one.  

 

Round about 10. 30 am a lady or gent from the Beatson Charity will come round with tea, coffee and biscuits.  They are always welcome in their bright, yellow t-shirts and eagerness to serve.  Those I have got to know have had relatives who were treated at the Beatson, and this voluntary work is a gesture of thanks.  Having had my daily rocket fuel, ie. espresso, I usually have tea and can be persuaded to have a biscuit.  Not that I needed much persuasion last Monday because there on top of the biscuit tray was a Waggon Wheel!  That kick-started a memory.  My first day at school.  My play piece was a Waggon Wheel.  The lady smiled indulgently when I imparted this vital information.  I suppose she is used to old guys and their memories.  

 

It made me think of the power of physical objects to take you to another place, another time, a life-changing event.  Jesus understood that when on his final night on earth and surrounded by his friends He took a piece of bread and when He had given thanks said: ‘This is my body which is for you.  Do this in memory of me.’.’  And later He took a cup of wine and said: ‘This cup is God’s new covenant sealed in my blood.  Whenever you drink it do so in memory of me.’  

 

The significance of the bread and wine was changed.  No longer the food and drink of every day, so familiar to the disciples.  In future, the breaking of bread and the sharing of wine would be an opening up to Jesus, all that He was, all that He gave for them, all that He promised them in this life and the next.  They would never have understood  the Lord’s Supper as ‘just a memorial’.   The Holy Spirit was present as real as the bread and wine they touched and tasted.  And as they touched and tasted they renewed their relationship with Jesus, received anew His promises to them, and were encouraged by the assurance of their future place in His Kingdom.  All of this refreshing their inner being, strengthening faith, and renewing hope.  

 

It is almost a year now since I led a congregation in a celebration of the Lord’s Supper.  It is one of the many things I miss.  It could be quite overwhelming to think that in doing this we are connecting with generations of Christians going back to Jesus Himself.  The one act of worship that He has commanded us to do.  I sit in a pew now to receive the bread and wine and Covid has changed the way we do this.  But as long as the bread and wine are there Jesus and His promises are present and there is nothing better to provide ‘strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow.’  

 

Lord Jesus,

 

As physical objects unlock the past, enrich the present, and bring hope for the future,

May the Lord’s Supper be a continuing source of grace as we seek to be faithful witnesses to your love.  Amen.  

Still Quarrying: George Alagiah.

 During my personal cancer experience there have been many people who have been an encouragement and an inspiration.   Those I have been privileged to support through their own cancer experience and others I have never met but have got to know through my reading and listening to media broadcasts, chief among the latter was George Alagiah.  Diagnosed with stage 4 bowel cancer in 2014, and later having to deal with the Coronavirus during the pandemic, he was possessed of a cheerful optimism and carried on with his work, when able, with warmth and empathy.  

 

It was said of a well-known presenter lately that despite his popularity he couldn’t read an auto-cue.  That could never be said of George.  He seemed to reach out from the screen and not only touched us but gave us to believe that we were touching him.   He knew humanity’s problems; he was shaken by humanitarian crises; and as he engaged with various horrendous circumstances as a Foreign Correspondent you had the impression that he felt called to respond.   His journalist friend Allan Little said in his recent tribute that in George people saw ‘the outstretched hand of a shared humanity and a solidarity.’ 

 

In all his interviews about his cancer experience I found so much to relate to.  He spoke of finding something positive in his illness, of becoming more empathetic to others in their troubles, of the necessity of finding ‘a place of contentment’, of being grateful for what he had experienced in the past and what he had in the present, and of focussing on what might be in the future.  God has not been mentioned.  But I thank God for the gift of his life and how he lived his dying.