... Of Roadrunner

When I was growing up there was a cartoon called "Roadrunner". Roadrunner was always being chased by Wile E Coyote, who never caught him  (There's a blog in that, I'm sure: about chasing what we cannot catch. Another time, perhaps).

The song for "Roadrunner" had this one line: "Running down the road is his idea of having fun..."

I thought about that this week, after I had gone for a 20 minute 'run' (I'm being generous to myself: but stagger sounds so... old). As I stood at the door, panting and puffing, I savoured each breath. Somehow, my lungs could almost taste the air as I drew it in, and I could feel every breath as I took it.

It was simple. It was exhilarating. It was magic. It had been a while since I last felt so 'alive'.

Simple, innocent pleasures. God created so many of them that we can do and still be in His will. Yet each day, the world crowds onto us more and more overwhelming sensations: sensations that drown out the way we are meant to feel and connect with creation.

Why not find one of those innocent pleasures, and give yourself over to it for a time today. As for me, I'm looking forward to running again tomorrow.

To quote Roadrunner: "Beep, beep".

of King Henry's Table

Recently my beloved and I watched a series of cooking shows by Heston Blumenthal, in which he recreated the recipes of different times in history. One episode is set in the England of Henry VIII: the king famous for having six wives and taking England out of the Roman Catholic Church. Drawing on the cook-books of the period, Heston’s culinary skills ran wild, recreating outlandish dishes combining art and opulence to a height not seen before in ‘Merry Olde Englande’. All sorts of meats, sweet dishes, pastries and ales formed the backbone to a daily feast ‘fit for a king’. 

What was fascinating was how bad the diet of the wealthy was, compared to the poor. The poor ate vegetables, and simple stews. They had no sugar. The wealthy scorned vegetables and gorged on sweet food. The result: although it was definitely no easy life, the diet of the average peasant was actually far healthier than that of the aristocracy: there’s an irony in there somewhere!

This made me think of the old saying “You are what you eat!” and that had me thinking about our spiritual diet. Our modern Western has never had so much variety of things to ‘chew on’, spiritually speaking. Television, cell-phones, the internet: all provide a never-ending ‘diet’ of food for the soul. 

The challenge is to work out what is best for us, and to ‘chew’ on that. The Tudor aristocracy despised the humble vegetable, to their detriment; how many of us overlook the basic in pursuit of the exotic.

We are what we eat. Why not set aside games, reality shows, self-help sites, pornography; let’s instead enjoy worship music, nourishing on-line sermons, and interviews with real heroes (such as +nick vujicic : look him up – now that’s a story worth Googling). ‘Desperate Housewives’ getting you down? Sample ‘Bethel tv’ instead. Missed your favourite ‘Survivor Outback’ show? In its place, podcast +Andy Stanley, or +Joyce Meyer Ministries. Let’s really care for ourselves.

But wait: there’s more! What about the infomercials? The ‘Five+ a day’ rule: why not make it both five vegetables/ fruit and five chapters of scripture? Within 30 days I guarantee you’ll be healthier than you have ever been – or your money back...

... Of Ringing Bells

..And the Tyranny of the Urgent.

Last night, for the second time this week and the fifth time this month I woke up to the sound of the church bells ringing. No, not the ‘call to worship’ bells: the ‘someone may be breaking into the building’ bells. Off I went, to check the site for mice or flapping curtains (the usual culprits). Mission accomplished I returned to bed; to sleep, perchance to dream...

This morning I thought about how in life we are so often called to action by the screaming bells of urgency. One of the best decision making tools I have been given is the “four quadrants of priority”.

1                     Important      and Urgent	3       Urgent, but           not important
2                     Important, but      not Urgent	4       Not important             and not urgent

Most of us implement boxes 1 and 4 quite well: we might get them wrong occasionally, but in the main we know when something really important has to be done right now, and when the task in front of us is totally trivial.

The challenge, and the key to great decision-making is learning to prioritise ‘important’ over ‘urgent’. On paper it can seem easy. But in life it often is not. Which do I respond to first? The requirement to make and fold 100 copies of the newsletter that is wanted in one hour, or the phone message from the young couple looking for marriage advise? Can’t the phone call wait? Pleasing 100 people easily makes so much sense – doesn’t it? Or is it just the ringing bell of urgency calling?

Many of us ignore ‘quadrant 2’ (the important) until it moves to ‘quadrant 1’ (now urgent and important). We tick of lists of ‘quadrant 3s (the urgents), but never feel truly satisfied. We know we can be doing better. And we can: it just takes practice.

Start with this one: when you are meeting with someone and your cell phone beeps with a text, don’t rush to pick it up. Finish the conversation you are having. It you both made time to have the meeting (even if it's 'just' for coffee), it is important. The chances are high that the text is merely urgent. 

For some of us even thinking about ignoring a text makes us break out in a cold sweat. That there is a sign: you are at the mercy of the ringing bell of the urgent. 

Time to make a change. Time to start, by... 

Oh wait: someone’s just tweeted me about Justin Bieber. Got to go. I'm sure you can work it out for yourself...

...of Salt

I have a 'thing' for salt on my food. I might sometimes have too much - though so far my heart and blood pressure seem fine.

However every now and then, I also have a negative reaction salt. Just yesterday, after biting into a sandwich with the barest amount of salt, I suddenly felt quite unwell. My taste buds reacted violently, I felt nauseous, and I had to close my eyes to help overcoming a strong fainting feeling.  It doesn't happen often: the last time was well over a year ago. But when it does, it is immediate, obvious, and 'memorable' - in the most unpleasant way. I'm not the only person to have this reaction. And I've read (because I can be a hypochondriac) that too much salt can in fact be deadly. So I do have to be careful.

Salt. We need it to survive, and yet this negative - even deadly - reaction does occur.

After my last turn, I got to thinking about Jesus describing the people of God as being salt and light. We often think of the salt analogy in the positive seasoning sense: A Godly community makes a society think and take notice of the truly important things. But perhaps its also true in the 'negative reaction' sense. Our society doesn't actually enjoy the Christian flavour. John, writing about Jesus, reminds us that the people of the world love darkness rather than light, because their deeds are evil.

Too much light gets rejected by the world, because it lays bare their real nature. Too much salt gets rejected as well, and for the same reason: the world prefers its own way, even though it needs the Gospel. The temptation for God's people is to cut back on the salt; to ease off the light.

But Jesus told those who listened that we are called to be salt and light. All the time. Not just when the people of the world react well, but also when they get a bad reaction. Sure, we need to find the most positive way to enter the world's "eyes and stomach". And we shouldn't set out to cause the negative reaction. But when it comes - and come it will - we are called to stay true. To be salt. To be light.

For the world needs both, whatever the reaction.

of being a cat whisperer

We have been graced with the presence of two cats, who have moved to Christchurch along with their human slaves (we all know who are the real owners in the human/ feline relationship).

Neither enjoyed the experience at first. In fact, one - Cairo - went so far as to hide under the house and meow pathetically at night - just to ensure we all understood how awful it was for her to be kidnapped away from her home. For three days, neither her human slaves nor my beloved and I could coax her inside. Things were getting desperate, or at least so it seemed to the women in the house. The cat was cold, hungry, sad: this was not how it was meant to pan out.

I am proud to say I came to the rescue. One the third night, I got up at 4:30am, opened the door and called the cat gently into the house; shivering myself, as it was wet and cold. And lo! Cairo the cat came in: snarling a little, but deigning me with her presence (the food bowl next to me may have helped: however as that fact may affect my hero status, I might have refrained from mentioning it to the others in the house). A happy ending; a saved cat, and a happy home!

The strange thing is that in Christchurch at present there must be hundreds, if not thousands, of hungry, cold and sad cats. Yet we have not gone to these same lengths to help them. Clearly, we only make such an effort for those cats we have gotten to know, and deem to be in some relationship with us. I'm not sure I would have hero status if I had proudly welcomed an unknown bedraggled feline into our home.

What is true for pets is true for people. It is hard for us to care for those we have not met and invested our emotions into. Something has to happen to move others from being 'people' (part of the crowd) to being 'persons' (part of our crowd). And here is the great weakness of many churches today: we invest all our time into those we already know, who so often are already in the house of God. These are persons to us: part of our crowd. But the people around us: the stressed KMart shop assistant, the bored child across the street, the lonely elderly neighbour; since we dont know them, we make little or no effort to invite them into the house of God. And so, like the stray cats in our city, they remain outside: cold, wet, unhappy, unfed.

This is not how Jesus called us to be. We are not meant to be inside the house, keeping warm and dry while others suffer. Instead, we are called to be people-whisperers; looking for the lost and the lonely. It's what Jesus commanded. Its what Jesus did. That means changing how we see the lost: changing them in our perceptions from people to persons. It starts by knowing their names; by discovering that the shop assistant is Julie, the child is Anji, the neighbour is Dorothy.

And it goes on to welcoming them into the house, where the air is warm, there is good food, and they know they have a place.

Time to shiver, just a little, to find the stray persons in our neighbourhood.

...Of Scary Questions

I've commented before about +Seth Godin , the American entrepeneurial guru who is challenging so many of the accepted norms of today: in marketing, in education, in work. I believe his ideas have great relevance in those areas, but also in the world of the 21st century church. If you are a person wrestling with the place of church today, and how we might do it differently to take our eyes of people and put them back on Jesus - the author and finisher of our faith, as the writer of the letter to the Hebrews calls Him.

Here is a link to some Seth's recent work on schools. Seth asks the brave question, 'What is the modern school for?' I'd really urge you to take 17 minutes and watch the TEDx Talk. If that gets you thinking, then go on to read some of the material on the site below the #youtube link. Dont be afraid to ask the question, "how is the way my school works going to help my children make a difference in their world, and not merely find a place in it?"

But here's the thing - and this is the question I'm wrestling with as a Pastor. Why not then ask the same questions about how we do church? Why not ask "what is the modern church for?" In the 21st century, are we serving people well by having a once-a-week performance led by a 'professor' of the faith - who rarely does it as well as a Tom Wright (you can follow his twitter account by clicking here) or a +Tim Keller - or might we be better with another model? A model that encourages us to think, not simply agree/ comply? (See this youtube clip for a great parody of church life under the current model).

For example, how about taking up one of Seth's ideas in the TEDx Talk, giving people the link to a high quality sermon or talk on a subject they are interested in, for them to watch during the week, and then inviting them on a Sunday morning to come and worship, and then break into groups with coffee to discuss what they watched, and to ask the questions together of what the talk raised for them? Note: not pre-prepared questions! That's just another way of setting boundaries of compliance.

What would the role of the Pastor be in that situation? Because she could not help every discussion group, wouldn't her importance on a Sunday fade? And be replaced by how she coached the discussion facilitators during the week? Would she cope with that loss of apparent significance? Would the congregation value the coaching role? Heck, would a congregation even come to such an event?

Perhaps I should try this. Because I want people to fulfil the words of the prophet Joel and dream dreams, and see visions. I want to #stopstealingdreams.

Is anyone with me? (And as a side point for my own reflection, is that even relevant?)

...Of Emotional Breathing

One of my congregation (I won't say who, as he doesn't like any limelight) recently a link to a wonderfully reflective thinker: Ron Rolheiser.

Ron has some great things to say about how we approach faith and relationships - especially where our faith and our expectations of others intersect.

You can check out Ron's thoughts here:

http://www.ronrolheiser.com/

An older article of his on the impact of our emotional needs on how we serve others is particularly insightful. It is Ron notes it is good and healthy to look for the touch of others: God created us that way.  But if this becomes the basis for why we serve - to have our  emotional needs met - we will never mature spiritually. Why? Because we always put a condition on the serving: we will keep saying 'I will love you and stay with you, as long as there's something in it for me.'

But as Ron says, real growth and maturity serves because it is good and right; not because we get something from it. That's hard, and it is certainly not the message we hear in Twenty-first Western media outlets: but it is very true.John the elder wrote "We love because God first loved us." That, and only that is the true basis for loving and serving: out of gratitude to the One Who loved us totally and gave Himself freely for our restoration.