Ministry Reflection - Broken Optimist

 Broken Optimist

I called myself a 'broken optimist' this week after my heart broke under the weight of the institution. It generated support from colleagues (thank you!) and stimulated another blog thread on the nature of optimism. To be honest it felt like a kick in the nuts as if somehow my pain was inconsequential and it was my own fault for being an optimist. How to hurt someone already hurting! However, he is a respected, trusted colleague and his blogs challenged me to really ponder. 

What do I mean or think I mean by being an optimist? I haven't read up on the meanings of optimist or pessimist. I just go with the flow. For me being optimistic is a hopeful outlook. A belief that all will be well, that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, that change for the better can happen and so on.
This week that died and perhaps, perhaps, his blog cemented that and gave an opportunity to realise what I was avoiding all along. Reality. Optimists, according to his research, cannot truly accept the grim reality and infers we cannot deal well with pain and grief when change doesn't happen. I may be doing him a disservice here but it's what I understood and initially I felt offended.

Nevertheless, I am no longer an optimist nor am I a pessimist for surely the same argument exists. Instead I fully accept the grim reality that change in the institution is not possible. We are doomed by the very thing I wore so proudly until this week - optimism.

There is too much optimism and not enough reality in the institution. We believe that we will be able to fix our situation. Reality tells a different story. Reality tells us that we will continue to decline and waste our resources.  We have done so for years and have yet to truly grasp the reality that we are far too big in all directions. 

Reality hit home this week and I know that optimism is the crutch that hinders not helps. And for the first time in a long time I feel a burden has been lifted. No longer do I fear the future because no longer is my identity or ministry locked in an institution or some naive optimism all will be well.

Instead I embrace reality and follow Jesus down the narrow path, knowing God's church will always survive but as what…

‘For I know the plans I have for you…’ 

 

Reflective - Nobody’s Puppet

 Growing older and wiser?

I have had a birthday. And I am feeling it.
Not so much physically although we all know old age doesn't come itself. I am on the cusp of my half-century though still plenty time to plan its celebrations. My birthday passed with little comment. Nobody really bothers at these random years. But physically I am 20 yrs old than the age my brain thinks I am. And it niggles!

Yet bizarrely it is my stability now that is giving me pause. and flashes of regret. Like so many I wish I knew then what I think I know now.

·      I wish I knew that my parents were doing the best they could with what they had.

·      I wish I knew that poor mental health was a thing 30 yrs ago and not just a modern day concept.

·      I wish I knew that happiness is not a place but a people.

·      I wish I knew that I didn’t have to throw myself in at the deep end and pray I could swim.

·      I wish I knew I could lose weight properly and keep it off (for me a big part of my self esteem issues)

Over the years, as a very slow learner, 

·      I have learnt that I don't need to titles or roles to be an asset or a worthy colleague. 

·      I have learnt to pause, ask questions and make decisions – not just rush to say ‘of course I will’

·      I have learnt I am nobody's puppet (except maybe for my children!)

Perhaps most importantly I have learnt I can’t fit in. I never could and it is exhausting trying.  How I wish I learnt this at a young age.  How I wish I knew it was a gift and not a curse to be me. 

I am a child of God and He loves me. I still believe the most powerful, prophetic message we can share is that most simple but divine truth.  I am a messed up individual with more flaws than anyone can ever know. My mistakes are in my past, glittering like broken glass on a path. I have failed God. And yet he loves me still.

I don’t doubt when that big 5 0 comes around I’ll be regretting mistakes, wondering what it means to be a human being, if I haven’t joined the heavenly ragamuffins first! 

But for now, there is a freedom in laying down the need to fit in or be another's puppet. And at the tender age of 47 I am truly learning who I really want to be, rather than what others think I should be. I don’t fear dying but I don’t want to get old. Yet I can’t deny with age comes wisdom…(well a little!).  

I wonder if you spotted it.  Took me a moment and I wrote it. Learning who I want to be, not what others expect me to be. Remember you are a person not an object. God made you and he loves you.  Plus we learn the most from our mistakes…

Be loved. Be you as God made you to be for you are a new creation! 

Anyone who is joined to Christ is a new being; the old is gone, the new has come. 

2 Corinthians 5:17

Packaging Relevancy- A response

We must be relevant….

At the risk of annoying a powerful person in my denomination and further blotting my copy book I find myself pondering 'us' again. There is nowt so weird as a Presbyterian although I'm sure that may true of others. I found myself put out with a recent church blog about making 'ourselves' relevant! I love the ones that make me wriggle with discontent. 

Somehow if we find the right package for the Gospel we will win everyone back to Church, although personally I'd settle for God. To be fair the desire for relevancy is not unique to this writer or indeed others writing on this topic.

The attraction model is still very popular. The right music, the best coffee, the home baking and a preacher who embodies the 'other'- be that charismatic or hippy, or easy on the ear and eye works? I’ll admit I get it. 

It is a form of packaging and it has some merit. It can rekindle faith in those who have drifted away from organised religion. The risk here is that it relies on the individual and unless discipleship is encouraged, should that preacher move on the person leaves too. Those of you who have been around will remember Billy Graham campaigns and how important it was to follow up those who came to faith.

I guess my initial negative reaction to the notion of 'packaging the Gospel’ was that there was nothing to say how or what that looked like, just a vague criticism that somehow I’d failed at doing it right.  The author spoke of taking children here there and everywhere rather than bringing them to church.  And again, not unique.  And guess what…not a new problem.  Yet we are still convicted of the notion that for worship to be worthy of the Lord himself it must take place on a Sunday morning around 11am.  I love that the Catholics are more open to worship at a different time.  Why when everything else was happening on a Sunday morning did we not move to a Sunday afternoon? 

I honestly wonder if we need to turn the whole concept of Church on its head. What if we truly valued everything but Sunday worship? What if the amount of people it takes to produce weekly worship was redirected? What if the amount of time that went into preaching to the converted when into preaching to the unconverted or as I’d rather say – those who haven’t had an opportunity to meet the God who loves them? 

But I guess the question remains - can we be relevant and if so how are we relevant?

It is recognised that we are complex beings with physical, mental, emotional, social, and spiritual needs. Any of these out of balance with the others causes issues. I freely admit I cannot imagine life without faith. Faith gives me hope for a future I cannot see.  However, I have suffered from depression, I have physical condition managed by daily drugs, and my body will continue to age and decay. My emotional health is generally good but like all people it can have bleak days.  

I believe to live life in all its fullness includes faith, growing our relationship with our Creator, through his Son and the Spirit.  There is only so much I can do in Sunday worship. Building up the people of God is a privilege but it is only relevant to those who know him or of him and want more.  However, Jesus was found all over the place, talking to the one or the thousands. He taught, he welcomed, he healed, he challenged and he loved.

The Church is one of the last institutions providing a variety of care, engaging with schools, politics and the Third Sector, Welcome varies for our input. But folks, relevancy will not be found in praise bands and charismatic preachers. Relevancy will be found when we come alongside our community and live out the Gospel with honesty and integrity. 

When we speak gently with the shamed and embarrassed, when we welcome the prodigal child, when we clothe the struggling, when we stop behaving like spoilt brats and say thank you Jesus and when we stop leaving it to the professionals…

We are the gospel packaged up. You! Me!
If we are not living the Gospel, if we are not loving God, neighbour, ourselves and enemy on a daily basis, then I promise no amount of dressing up the Church or worship will matter.  For one thing that is key to understanding what it means to bring the church into the 21^st Century – nobody wants packaged messages or pedestals, they want truth, authenticity and transparency. 

We joke – do as I say, not as I do.  In reality we need to practise what we preach,  Then we would not need to fight for relevancy for revival will come.  Such is the Good News. And perhaps the first step is to believe it ourselves and be able to articulate that in word and action.  And remember it is true – God is before us and he is hoping we are in for the ride…

Be relevant – Be your beloved self for you are the Good News of Christ packaged and good to go! 💞💞

 

At Face Value: a new mission field?

 At Face Value

 Now Thomas, one of the Twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, ‘We have seen the Lord!’

But he said to them, ‘Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.’

A week later his disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you!’ Then he said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.’

Thomas said to him, ‘My Lord and my God!’  John 20: 24-28

 

On Sunday, like many of my colleagues, I was reflecting on Thomas and his story.  I was admitting my annoyance at his inability to accept what the other disciples said at face value. Why couldn't he just believe them? After all they would have been so excited, convinced by seeing the scars and hearing Jesus speak. For sure, Jesus had a way with words! Mary recognised him simply by hearing him speak her name.  Or the couple on the road to Emmaus who felt their hearts burn within them as Jesus opened up Scripture to them.  As I noted on Sunday we recognise his voice - the sheep know their Shepherd's voice.

For so long the Church has ignored Thomas. Oh yes we tell his story and some years we feel for him, others we are annoyed by him.  But what about the Thomas people in our communities? We have ignored them and we are paying the price now as we close churches and pretend it is all about mission.  

What do I mean by that? Well we have hung out with the convinced and pushed the doubters to the fringes. Our Sunday services are full of the convinced or at least the content.  We preach to those who have met Jesus.  And despite the occasional missional success stories of Alpha or Messy Church we are not great at converting.  We poach and attract and moan about the consumer mentality that the presbyterian system of ‘protecting God from the untrained’ and shutting down incubators of faith development and discipleship has enabled. 

Thomas had serious issues. No matter how much his friends tried to convince him he needed tangible proof.

We have often lived our mission stuck in the room, assuming that everyone will take us at face value. If we preach it, the people will come. If we have all the hall lets, if we put nice prayers on social media, if we keep the old happy then we can continue (to pay the bills) then all will be well.

But let’s be real-Thomas had experienced much under Jesus' leadership and yet he still couldn't accept at face value that Jesus had risen from the dead. He needed more.  No amount of talk would persuade him.  

Perhaps our challenge for mission is to stop focussing the majority of the effort on those already convinced and look for the Thomas’ around us.  And they are there. How do we share the Good News without relying on face value only? It can’t just be about the face we present to our parish.  You see, Thomas didn’t want the happy, convinced, overwhelmingly excited Christians shouting Jesus is risen.  He needed Jesus, his peace and his scars visible before him.  

For those of us in the know the most concerning element is that we are presenting as a Church in turmoil, lost and conflicted. How do we, as an institution, leave the Good Friday filled tomb and join the resurrected Lord, wearing our scars and ready to step out in faith?  What I am finding is that those who are in the know and feel bereft are those in the church.  Those outwith the Church are not shocked about our turmoil or indeed seeing it as catastrophic as we are. Such change is happening everywhere.  In fact they are not surprised about our pain and heartache because they are feeling it too. Maybe what they need is to see us joining them in their wait for Jesus to appear in his scarred body yet full of glory and bringing peace, instead of hiding behind some façade.  

And in that is a mission field…maybe…

And yes, I do have a soft spot for Thomas and the longest week he waited, as did his friends, for the moment of convincing to happen. 

With God in the driving seat, we pray for patience! 

Blessings

Sarah 

 

 

 

Resurrection Blues

 Resurrection Blues

As I sit to write this, feeling a little weary I wonder how many of us have the resurrection blues? It's the moment where all is done, 

Christ has died,

Christ has risen,

Christ is alive

 

and we all breathe a sigh of relief yet also miss it all. 

The services are past, the dawn hike is over, the breakfast/brunch smells have dissipated and suddenly we are left wondering; ‘what's next?’.  Don't worry we still have Pentecost, before we start planning Christmas again!

This coming Sunday is also known as Low Sunday, partly in recognition that it is a less intense celebration than Easter. Therefore, let me reassure you. If you are feeling out of sorts, tossed about, confused or generally ‘wabbit’, you are in good company.

Spare a prayer this week for your ministry team, be they the lone worker, the cover, or the church worship team. Many leading worship through Holy Week were already weary from meetings about Mission Planning, the multiple hats they wear, and the general angst in the air.  Each have preached and enthused about the all encompassing, sacrificial love of God.  That when all seemed lost, God knew the end game.

And within each burns a hope that God has an end game, a plan for their church and the institution. The light might be flickering but the darkness has not yet put it out.  Without the distraction (apologies Lord!) of Lent, Holy Week and Easter, the reality of our future seems to loom large on the horizon.  And it is concerning for all, indeed some might feel it more than others but no one is unaffected. 

May we find in the prayers of others, the support of colleagues (which was more apparent after the resurrection than before) and the care of our congregations the strength to engage, the courage to challenge and embrace change and the compassion to support those facing the toughest decisions.

May we walk rejoicing in the light of our resurrected Lord, Indeed may our priority be to run and tell others we have seen the Lord. Maybe that’s the true mission imperative. 

God bless you this Easter season!

Love Sarah

Easter Sunday - Explosion of Hope

 Luke 24: 12-17

On that same day two of Jesus' followers were going to a village named Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and they were talking to each other about all the things that had happened. As they talked and discussed, Jesus himself drew near and walked along with them; they saw him, but somehow did not recognize him. Jesus said to them, “What are you talking about to each other, as you walk along?”

The two people on the road to Emmaus were just ordinary folks trying to make sense of their world.    They had such high hopes that Jesus would change their world for the better and now, well now, there was nothing only shattered dreams and broken hearts.  They had seen amazing things when in his company and heard even more fantastical things about Jesus.  He was an influencer, a voice speaking out against injustice, caring for the sick, welcoming the outsider, treating women, children, the poor, the disabled with dignity.  Wherever he went people followed and hung on his every word.  Giving him a hero’s welcome into Jerusalem joy filled the air and hope for freedom from cruel invaders lifted hearts. 

 

But behind the celebrations of ordinary people a dark plot was hatched by leaders and politicians.  To them Jesus was dangerous, upsetting the status quo. He must be removed – permanently. 

 

Finding a quiet out of the way place,  away from the noticeable tension between the opposing parties, Jesus eats a special dinner with his friends, known as the Last Supper.  Following the meal, a short walk in the evening air gives his friend Judas the opportunity to betray him to the aforementioned plotters. Jesus is arrested on false charges and in court, firstly before the Jews, and then before Pilate the Roman Governor. Despite the fact it is obvious to Pilate that Jesus is innocent, he decides, in order to avoid a riot, that Jesus is sentenced to death – the cruellest imaginable type of death at the time.  Nailed to the cross Jesus hangs struggling to breathe.  As the Friday afternoon sky darkens unusually early it mirrors the light of hope being extinguished in the hearts of those who thought Jesus was the one. Crucified amongst other criminals Jesus prays and draws his last breath.  Laid in a borrowed tomb the cave is sealed and with it comes the grief and overwhelming hopelessness.    

 

Yet, Jesus knew he would die.  He tried to tell his friends that he would have to die.  He even tried to tell them that three days later he would rise from the dead.  But to be fair that is hard for anyone to comprehend.  And when our world collapses, when death happens, when what we thought was true is shattered, when our friends hurt or betray us, when our church seems bogged down and even crushed, when the tunnel seems inordinately long, when no one believes us…we can struggle to find hope. And we all need hope. 

 

Sometimes, if we could just see a little further ahead we might not be so downhearted.  When Jesus explained to our wandering friends the truth of it all, they felt such an explosion of hope.  But it wasn’t just hope for here and now.  They realised it was about so much more than fixing our problems in this life. It was hope for life after death.  It was for hope to burn brightly even when all around descends into chaos.  Faith in God shifts our focus from ourselves, from now to seeing the bigger picture – that with God, one day all will be well. 

 

They felt hope like a fire burning in their heart. Hope warms us and blossoms into courage which gives us strength to put one foot in front of the other.  The two people who walked with Jesus, when they realised who he was ran all the way back to Jerusalem in the dark, probably breaking all their personal bests for running.   The explosion of hope blossomed into courage giving them the strength to go back and say we met Jesus. The explosion of hope lifted them up and gave them confidence, purpose and even their lives back.  

 

Jesus will meet each of us where we are and as we are -whether we are hurting, angry, disappointed, scared, anxious or full of questions.  We don’t need to be perfect first.  And maybe when you recognise Jesus in his resurrected glory, you too will feel that explosion of hope that blossoms into courage and strength.  Remember we are people of the resurrection, people of the light and followers of the way. Let’s live in the light of his sacrificial love and be generous with all.  

 

Christ is risen. He is risen indeed. Hallelujah 

Love Sarah 

 

 (Based on material I wrote for Calderglen High Easter Assemblies) 

Holy Week Friday - Overcome the Grief

 When the people who had gathered there to watch the spectacle saw what happened, they all went back home, beating their breasts in sorrow. All those who knew Jesus personally, including the women who had followed him from Galilee, stood at a distance to watch.

Sometimes even with the best will in the world all one can do is stand back and watch. Even Peter who wanted to change the outcome finds himself silenced, in tears, helpless and heartbroken. We often call it guilt as he focus on his betrayal. But I have come to see it as grief as well.

That moment of utter helplessness as you watch the world in front of you collapse. All Peter thought he knew about himself, about Jesus, about his future fell apart in that sound. As the crock crowed Peter felt the grief fall on him. It is a different kind of grief to mourning a loved one although there are similarities.

It is one many of us have faced and for many of us in the Church it will hit us too. Maybe you have already hit the wall of grief. It is when your heat breaks into a thousand pieces and without warning the pain feels like an eruption that spills out from your heart, lungs and soul. The tears fall unbidden and try as you might you cannot silence the wail. The wave of grief crashes over you, threatening to drown you. 

Peter felt guilt but also grief.  He had carried the tension of those previous weeks and days, fought for Jesus, desperately tried to support his dearest friend and understand it all. But when the powers-that-be took Jesus,-' destroying the Temple' through their actions, handing him over to be crucified, confident that they were in the right, his followers were lost, confused and scared.

Sometimes sacrifice must come before glory, sometimes grief before a fresh start.

I hit my wall of grief for and about the Church of Scotland on Saturday 25h April. Writing up notes for a congregational meeting, where one church (not mine) is marked for closure, and the ministry of 3 becomes 1.5 for a parish of 13,000+,  known as Church of Scotland or non-denom plus knowing this is reflected across the Kirk, I felt guilty and grief-stricken.

I stand watching, helpless.
Yet I remain determined to do the best I can with the calling I have been given.

The women stood and watched.
They also went to grave to weep and dress the body.
And we all know how that goes.
They end up being the first to preach the good news.

We don't know what lies ahead but press forward. For with our God anything is possible and Jesus defeated death and even Peter is restored.

Watching can be active not just passive.

Every blessing especially today.
Love Sarah.