Dear Friends

I follow daily Bible readings as part of a pattern of Morning Prayer. There is always one or more Psalms included.

I often struggle with the psalms. They are a great resource in worship and theology, but to be frank I don’t often find having set psalms very helpful. BUT today’s psalms were very interesting. The first was Psalm 88. A real favourite of mine, despite, or because of, it’s unremitting bleakness! And it all appears to be God’s fault:

You have laid me in the lowest pit …
Lord, why have you rejected my soul?
Why have you hidden your face from me?
The only hope in the Psalm is that the person is still speaking to God, even if it’s only to complain!

The second was Psalm 95 which begins:

O come let us sing to the Lord;
let us heartily rejoice in the rock of our salvation.
Let us come into his presence with thanksgiving
and be glad in him with psalms.
For the Lord is a great God …

So can we imagine someone coming up to the person who’s lamenting in Psalm 88, and inviting him or her to join in a hymn of praise? We might expect a shirty answer… The Book of Proverbs has a comment on this sort of situation:

Like one who takes away a garment on a cold day,
or like vinegar poured on a wound,
is one who sings songs to a heavy heart.

So it was very interesting to have the two psalms placed one after another. In one sense it seems completely insensitive. In another way, turning our sorrow into joy is what God does. One example is Psalm 30 which speaks of crying out to God and being heard and healed:

You turned my wailing into dancing;
you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,
that my heart may sing your praises and not be silent.

What jarred for me, was that the joyful psalm came immediatelyafter the lament. No period of transition. Maybe that gets to the heart of this. The transition from sorrow to joy is not guaranteed – at least in this life. I’m sure it’s right to praise God out of the depths, to call to mind his goodness and provision even when we aren’t experiencing much of that. But we often need to sit patiently alongside people in pain and wait …

When I look at the heading for today’s Morning Prayer it is a celebration of two martyrs in Rome in the late 3^rdcentury – Crispin and Crispinian. It seems they were tortured and beheaded for their Christian faith and for helping the poor. For many faithful folk today, the goodness of God is believed in, but its not always something they feel able to talk about or want to sing about …

With faith, hope and love

Graham

Dear Friends,

Tolerance is a good word. It’s not love, but it’s a start. There’s a classic problem with tolerance, of course. We are usually urged to be ‘tolerant’ of anything except intolerance. And it seems to me that is a very basic fault line which has rarely been more apparent than in Britain today.

When is a person being “intolerant”? Who is to judge? Undoubtedly we can all be intolerant at times, but who can say when our deeply held views could fairly be labelled intolerant? And is it simply about our view, or how we express that view?

We are deeply influenced by the culture we live in. Yet cultures are constantly changing. And very fast, in this part of the world – not least around sexuality and gender identity.

People demanding tolerance, acceptance of their lifestyle, can be very intolerant of any reluctance or doubt in others. People promoting ‘inclusiveness’ can be very exclusive of those who don’t buy into their ideas of inclusiveness. And so, of course, can people who remain embedded in conservative and traditional views which reject certain lifestyles.

One huge problem facing us, and our politics nationally, is the lack of listening. Much of the present anger and resentment against politicians is from ‘the people’ who have not been listened to by the political elite of all the main parties. Honest engagement with complex issues is rare and sound bites and simplistic claims dominate. There is little acknowledgement that different views can be held with integrity.

For me, these massive cultural and political issues help us see what the Church can be. What the Church, for the sake of the nation, desperately needs to be. What Otley Parish Church can be.

One of the most important insights, for me, from biblical and theological study and reflection is that truth is rarely simple and static. More often truth is a dynamic reality, found as we listen to, and learn from, each other. Found when we give the Bible its primacy of place, doing our best to understand the context in which it was written and interpreting it honestly in the light of our experience and our tradition. And all of this is done while listening intently for the leading of the Holy Spirit.

At the heart of our faith is, of course, the very nature of God. Dynamic and beyond explanation. One and yet three. We must hold together the absolute unity, the oneness of God, with the Christian understanding that God is a divine community – Father, Son and Holy Spirit. We hold his inscrutable majesty, his unimaginable power and glory in tension with his humility and tenderness, his self-giving love and willingness to be intimately known.

The truth about Jesus is not found in some halfway mark where Jesus is half man and half God, but in the incomprehensible mystery that he is fully human and fully divine.

The content of the Bible we (and Protestant Churches in general) use was agreed after long discussion and argument at Synods more than 300 years after Jesus died. The Bible brings together a vast array of different kinds of writing from many centuries and contexts. It is the work of human beings and the work of God.

Wrong interpretations have been used to justify slavery, ethnic cleansing, subjugation of women, the pernicious prosperity gospel, and countless injustices which have brought shame on the Church.

As you know, at Otley Parish Church we are an inclusive Church where there is a place for everyone, with Christ at the centre. You will also be well aware that there continues to be much debate in the wider Church, nationally and internationally, about how inclusive we can be to people who are gay or transgender.

I know there will be deeply held views within our Church about this, on many aspects of the various issues. Hopefully, all of us are listening and learning and trying to understand. I want to make it clear that I believe that differing, and even incompatible, views can be held with integrity. And I think our priority is twofold.

First and most important, to make sure that everybody is welcome in our Church, which means that we welcome every person without discriminating on sexuality, gender, gender identification, disability, mental health, ethnicity, or economic power.

Second, we commit ourselves to listen to God and each other, to examine our prejudices, to choose our words carefully and to remind ourselves again and again that we are called to love one another.

I hope that everyone can be free to be themselves and participate fully in our Church life, without having to hide part of who they are. In our mission we need each other with our different insights, faith, gifts and experiences.

We share in God’s mission to make Christ known and reveal his loving (and demanding) purposes for every person. If there is any ‘sitting on the fence’ about who is welcome, the iron will go into our soul!

As I write this I am very mindful of a 14 year-old girl, Lizzie Lowe, who was growing up in a Church in Didsbury, and took her own life because she did not think her gay sexuality and her Christian faith were compatible, and nobody at home or at Church said anything to help her. Her death transformed her Church, and we’ll have an opportunity to hear more about that in the next few weeks.

I want to do all I can to ensure that such a thing will not happen in Otley Parish Church through our silence and lack of care.

Thank you for all you already do to make our Church community such a loving and welcoming one. May God lead us forward into the future He has for us, and may we together grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ (Ephesians 3:18).

With much faith, hope and, above all, love.

Graham

Dear Friends,

One of the strange things I do is write “hello” a lot as I sit thinking or when I just sit (!). I’ve done it since Primary School. You’ll still find “hello” written in all sorts of places like my bible, my notes for a sermon or any old bit of paper lying around. Sometimes even on my hand. I should probably seek counselling about it! But it’s more fun to keep writing and ponder what a counsellor might say.

Perhaps I’m like Karen Blixen. In the film ‘Out of Africa’, when her husband complains about a lack lustre goodbye kiss she says “I’m better at hello”. Meryl Streep, who plays the Danish Karen Blixen, fills the words with moody promise.

Hello is so full of possibilities, new beginnings. But it can be scary too. A new job, a new situation. New people. Will we cope? Will we get on with the in-laws, or new neighbours?

Goodbye is the end of things. And yet many goodbyes are good! How many people have said something like: “I love it when my grandchildren come to see us. I also love it when they go!” We’re often glad to receive visitors and glad when they go as well! Serious things come and go – problems get resolved, and we move on to a better place.

So our lives are full of hellos and goodbyes. Some, like when people come to visit, have a clear beginning and end. Other hellos are much more long-term – like when a baby is born. So hello to Elspeth, and Eliza and at least two more to come soon to parents in our congregation. And, of course, goodbyes can be very permanent too, or seem to be, as when someone dies.

As someone about to be 60 (I know you can’t believe it, but it’s true), there are many things I need to say goodbye to. I’m never going to play cricket for Ireland. I’ll never run faster than either of my sons again. There are still so many things I’d like to do, but I’ll have to make some hard choices or none of them will get done….

But however old we are, a significant event in our lives is an opportunity to stop and reflect on some basic questions like: where next? What does God want me to do in this next chapter of my life? We move on and God continues alongside us, inviting us to continually reshape our lives in response to his guiding and empowering Spirit. “Keep in step with the Spirit” advises St Paul (Letter to the Galatians 5:25).

We are soon to say goodbye to Jimmy Lawrence, our curate. It doesn’t seem long since we first said hello. We’ll miss his lively, encouraging presence among us. We’ll miss his thoughtful sermons. We’re grateful for all he’s given us. He has formed us, and we have formed him, and Hannah. We are the better for Jimmy and Hannah having been with us. And we’re delighted for them that they can actually live together now and work out the details of their next step.

To Jimmy and Hannah, and to all of us, on the ever changing path of life, with all its hellos and goodbyes, there is perhaps no better advice than “Keep in step with the Spirit”. Our living loving God is always with us and will never desert us. “The Lord is my shepherd I shall not want” (Psalm 23). Alleluia!

Every blessing

Graham

Dear Friends,

I’m writing in the aftermath of the fire that almost destroyed Notre-Dame Cathedral in Paris. I was deeply moved by the scenes on television – the harrowing pictures of the fire, and the responses of Parisians as they gathered and watched and grieved and prayed.

We’re used to hearing that the Church is not the building, but the Church is the people. That is true, but a building such as Notre-Dame, or even Otley Parish Church, comes to represent the history of the people over centuries.

It was extraordinary how everything changed when news came that the basic structure of the cathedral was sound, and confidence was expressed that it could be rebuilt. It would rise again. Many have commented on the timing of the fire in Holy Week, and how it resonates with the grief and pain that we feel with Christ as he journeys towards the cross. And with the hope of resurrection.

Trust in his Father’s purposes, and the hope of resurrection, undoubtedly sustained Jesus through his pain and suffering. The resurrection is his personal vindication. For us who know the story, we read it knowing he will rise from the dead, and yet his suffering is almost unbearable to read. We feel in a human way for the betrayed Jesus, the one smeared with lies and half-truths as the fickle crowds are manipulated against him. 

But we believe much more has been achieved than Jesus’ personal vindication. The bigger story is that Jesus’ suffering was the means of overcoming sin and death – the two big barriers to God’s kingdom coming, when all creation is healed and reconciled to God.

There is no easy explanation for any suffering, let alone the appalling pain we know has been, and is being, endured by many in our world. But we can trust that somehow it is unavoidable, as Christ’s suffering is: a result of the cosmic struggle against evil, injustice and all that stands against God’s good purposes for the world. We have seen the heart of God in Jesus, and so we know that suffering here “wrings with pain the heart of God”, but darkness and evil must have its hour before it is overcome (Luke 22:53).

Parisians now live in the hope and trust that Notre-Dame will rise again. Christians live in the hope of the resurrection. For those who suffer today, the God we meet in Christ knows all about suffering. Jesus’ experiences forsakenness as he cries from the cross, “My God, my God why have you forsaken me?”

The burning of Notre-Dame Cathedral is causing much heart-searching about why it it so significant to a country so militantly secular. Our hope is that many will be led to recognise they are part of a bigger story, a story that cannot be told in bricks and mortar but only by connecting to God who is the foundation of everything.

Emmanuel Macron, the French president, vowed to rebuild the cathedral in five years and make it better, more beautiful. The foundations and walls appear to be secure so the inside and roof can be replaced, and the cathedral will rise again. This seems to me to be powerfully symbolic for the wider Church. The Church built on the foundation of Jesus Christ. St Paul writes in his first letter to the Corinthians, chapter three:

¹⁰ By the grace God has given me, I laid a foundation as a wise builder, and someone else is building on it. But each one should build with care. ¹¹ For no one can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ. ¹² If anyone builds on this foundation using gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay or straw, ¹³ their work will be shown for what it is, because the Day will bring it to light. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each person’s work. ¹⁴ If what has been built survives, the builder will receive a reward. ¹⁵ If it is burned up, the builder will suffer loss but yet will be saved – even though only as one escaping through the flames.

¹⁶ Don’t you know that you yourselves are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit lives among you? ¹⁷ If anyone destroys God’s temple, God will destroy that person; for God’s temple is sacred, and you together are that temple.

The foundation must always be Jesus Christ. The walls stand for the essential truths of the Gospel that do not change from generation to generation. But on this foundation, and within these Gospel walls, the Church can be rebuilt, and needs to be rebuilt, for each generation. 

Across the world we know that the Church works differently in different cultures. And our cultures change over time. Culture is “the way we do things here”. And the way we do things changes. 

It’s not always easy to discern what in the Church is cultural and can change and what is eternal and must not change. But that is our task as we seek new ways to engage people with the Gospel. 

The Lord is risen. He is risen indeed. Alleluia!

With love,

Graham

Dear Friends,

There’s a short story by Liam O’Flaherty called ‘The Sniper.’ It is set in the Irish civil war in 1922. A young sniper is on the rooftops in the centre of Dublin. After shooting an enemy soldier and an old woman who is an informer, he himself is seen and wounded by an enemy sniper from a rooftop across the street. 

After bandaging his wound he knows he has to get off the roof quickly or he will be caught. He forms a desperate plan, lifting his cap on his bayonet above the parapet and when the enemy sniper shoots through his hat, he allows his cap and the rifle to fall down the roof into the street. 

The enemy sniper thinks he has killed him and stands up from behind a chimney pot with his head silhouetted against the evening sky. The wounded young sniper then takes aim with his revolver and shoots the man on the rooftop across the street. He utters a cry of joy as his enemy staggers and tumbles down the roof and hits the street below with a dull thud.

He begins to shake, shuddering with revulsion and remorse, cursing the war – but is quickly fired up again by whiskey from his flask. He descends to the street and runs through a burst of gunfire to take a quick look at the dead soldier who is lying face down. As he turns the body over he finds he is looking into his brother’s face.

I was deeply moved by this story when I first heard it summarised in a lecture on Irish Literature nearly 40 years ago. It speaks to so many situations today: the ‘enemy’ is your brother.

Jesus is recorded as saying: “whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.” (Matthew 12:50) This encourages us to rethink what we mean by ‘family’. For a Christian, it is all part of what we call repentance.

Repentance is changing our thinking, our attitude, our heart. That’s the meaning of the Greek word ‘metanoia’ which is translated ‘repentance’ in the bible. It’s God who can change our thinking, our attitudes and our heart to be more like his.

So God moves in our hearts to help us see a brother or a sister in every person, and to help us create, in our churches, families where everyone has a place at the table. Even, and especially, people who are different to us. Even, and especially, people who are difficult. It isn’t easy, but it is our especial challenge. 

It occurs to me that someone might think (on the basis of Matthew 12:50), that we only have to accept into our family those who do God’s will. I think that would be a misinterpretation. Jesus’ story of the Prodigal Son in Luke’s Gospel (chapter 15) makes it clear to me that even the person who DOESN’T do the will of God the Father is my brother or sister. Like the elder brother in that story, I can refuse to accept someone as my brother or sister, but then it is me not doing the will of God my Father.

For two weeks we have been privileged to host the Night Shelter for the West Yorkshire Destitute Asylum-seekers Network. The 10 young men we hosted are from many countries, where life is very different and problematic. Our hearts go out to them as they travel on to their next hosting church, hoping eventually to be allowed to settle in this country. It was wonderful to have so many people from churches and the wider community offering their help in so many ways. It wasn’t compassion alone that motivated us. God is a Father to them. They are family.

It’s certainly not easy to work out how to live with (ultimately) every member of the human race as family. Nor is it easy to work out how to love your neighbour (i.e. anyone!) as yourself. But this is the challenge God lovingly, and determinedly, sets us. 

With my love and prayers

Graham

Dear Friends,

Most of you will remember Richard. Maybe not his name, but probably his face. Richard came to Otley in 2017 and until a few months ago he was to be seen regularly on Kirkgate during the day. At night he slept in a tent in all weathers. 

For many, he was the first homeless person they had engaged with. Until first Darren and then Richard arrived, we’d only known homeless people stay for short periods. Not much chance to get to know them.

But lots of people got to know Richard a bit. He was chatty, undemanding, surprisingly optimistic and positive for someone ‘on the streets’. He was intelligent, well-read and able to talk about many subjects. He had a university degree.

Richard was eventually given a flat in Otley but then he went back to his home area of Brighouse. Sadly, we heard recently that he had died in hospital and had his funeral in Brighouse at the end of January.

A few days ago, at short notice, 35 people gathered in our church to remember Richard. Jimmy led a gentle service as we lit a candle, shared simple memories, read from the Bible and joined in prayers. For 15 minutes before we began, Rob tolled the Church.

The gathering of people and the tolling of the bell said that Richard mattered – in a sense proclaimed to Otley that Richard mattered. Many people had taken Richard to their hearts and did many small acts of kindness for him. Brought him food. Stopped to talk. Offered him clothes or a sleeping bag. Treated him as a normal human being. Recognised it as a privilege to be able to assist him.

People who helped Richard found that it wasn’t a one-way street – Richard gave them something in return. He treated them as if they mattered. He told some of his own story. He asked about their story. He shared his infectious optimism. He helped people engage with a real experience of homelessness not some prejudiced caricature. And their life was enriched by meeting him. 

Richard was a ‘normal’ kind person whose life was blighted by some bad luck, some bad choices and some difficult relationships. It could have been any of us sitting outside Scope on Kirkgate.

Mostly, Otley folk have been kind and helpful to Richard, caring and concerned; a credit to our community. Sadly, a few have been unpleasant and treated him like he was something less than a person. Richard said he liked being in Otley. 

In some ways, Richard holds up a mirror to us. His issues are personal to him but also the result of how we do things collectively, how resources are allocated in our society, how much support the troubled and vulnerable get.

The simple truth is that Richard mattered. His life mattered as much as any other. As well as being appreciated by us, he was and is of infinite value to his heavenly Father. So are you as you read this, whether you are feeling successful and fulfilled or useless.

During Lent, we will be inviting everyone to join a group to participate in the ‘SHAPEcourse’. It’s about discovering your shape by looking at five qualities you embody – your Spiritual gifts, your Heart, your Abilities, your Personality and your Experience.

Everybody matters and everybody has a contribution to make and gifts to share. Don’t undervalue yourself. There is a you-shaped piece of puzzle to fill a you-shaped part in the picture – and only you can fill it. 

There is (surprise surprise) a place for everyone, with Christ at the centre.

Your shape will change and vary through time, so it’s a good thing, every now and then, to pause and reflect on who we are becoming and how we fit in. And no better time to do that than as we start the journey of Lent and allow ourselves to be shaped afresh by God who walks with us through the suffering, death and resurrection of Jesus.

Love,

Graham

Dear Friends,

I wonder if you know the story in the bible about Lot’s wife? With her husband and children she was rescued from the town of Sodom, and told not to look back as Sodom and Gomorrah were being destroyed. But she did look back and was turned into a pillar of salt. A Sunday school teacher was telling the children this (rather horrific!) story and one child piped up: “My mum was driving to Sainsburys yesterday and she turned into a tree!”

Jokes and scary bible stories aside, we do well to look back. Soren Kierkegaard, the Danish philosopher, said: “Life can only be understood backwards but it must be lived forwards.”

Towards the end of the day is a great time to spend a few minutes reflecting on the day, replaying the parts we can remember. I often understand things better looking back, playing the scenes over in my mind, and sometimes notice things I haven’t noticed during the day.

I might recall that Gerald was unusually preoccupied when we met, or wonder why Jenny wasn’t at her desk, or suddenly realise what I’d said to Chris on the phone that made him so frosty. It’s a good thing to do as a regular way of prayer – reflecting on the day with God, thanking him, asking help, praying for people I’ve met and noting tasks to do – like saying sorry!

It’s the same only bigger looking back on a year. Reflecting on what I’ve made time for, what or who I’ve neglected, how much holiday or retreat time I’ve taken, how much I’m drinking, how much I’ve given to charity – all in all a sort of (gentle!) audit.

And it’s the looking back, the real experience of life, that helps us look forward and know we can live a bit differently, think about changing jobs, spend more time with children, go to the gym, use up less of the planet’s resources…

We are constantly having to ‘move on’. We’re growing up, leaving school, learning to live independently, in a new job, a new relationship, we’ve become parents (again), we’re learning to live with limited mobility or without a loved one by our side. Life always comes as a package, some of which we shape and some of which simply happens to us.

I think experience teaches us (mostly!) that we are far stronger than we think we are; we cope with situations that we would have found it hard to contemplate. We have deep resources. God has given us deep resources, not least that he walks alongside us and gives us one another.

I think experience teaches us that we can embrace the new things, and the gradually changing things, in life, with hope and trust in the good purposes of God. Our package of life will contain some hard things, and will bring us into some seriously hard times, but St Paul gives some good advice to the Christians in Philippi:

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God, and the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

Paul goes on to urge us to fill our minds with whatever is true, noble, right, pure, lovely and admirable… That is probably the best way to a happy new year for each of us and the people who live with us.

As Dag Hammarskjold famously said: “For all that has been – thanks. For all that will be – yes.”

With love,

Graham

Dear Friends

Advent is not just a time of waiting for Christmas, it is a time of preparation so we can be ready in our hearts and minds and spirits to celebrate the coming of God as a human being into our world.

But we are not good at waiting! The people of Sudan and Uganda are much better at waiting than we are in this part of the world. That is perhaps because there is much waiting to be done there!

It’s not a joyless waiting, in spite of the difficulties. Singing and dancing, smiling and laughter, coming together to celebrate and share food, are all things that come naturally to the Ugandans and Sudanese whom I know. For all our plenty we celebrate a lot less and complain a lot more!

For those who have the resources here, almost everything can be had immediately, next day delivery. Christmas can be the culmination of a period of indulgence rather than abstinence.

Any yet, like it or not, understand it or not, the world is waiting, waiting, waiting for an end to darkness and chaos. It waited a very long time for Jesus to come the first time. We’ve only waited 2,000 years so far for Jesus to come back. But he will. God is making us wait for the new heavens and the new earth. Advent is a time to remember that all of creation is waiting, with a hope that is steadfast and certain. And a time to remember (and reach out to help) those whose waiting is particularly dark and painful.

Amidst our plenty there is still real poverty, isolation and mental torment right on our doorstep. We reflect on these things NOT to limit our joy or our celebration, but to make it more real and expand it to include more people. We offer back to God our time and our prayers and our money so more people can know they are blessed this Christmas.

In Advent, we do a lot of publicity about Christmas services and events. It’s amazing how much publicity (not ours obviously!) either omits basic details (such as the time of an event) or makes them hard to read because they are too small or the poster is cluttered or the words blend in with the background.

At our recent Prayer Day Bishop Helen-Ann of Ripon reminded us that from ancient times Jewish scholars have described scripture as written with BLACK fire and WHITE fire. The BLACK fire is the actual words on the page or scroll written in black ink. The WHITE fire is the spaces behind and in between which give a context, a background against which the words are read and understood.

There’s much to be reflected on in this analogy, but one thought came strongly to me at the Advent Day of Prayer. We, individually and together, are the background against which the ‘Word made flesh’ Jesus Christ is seen in our town.

So at Christmas many people hear the reading of scripture, see nativity plays and join in the singing of carols. Through this they may see Jesus. They do that in a context, against a background. We are that background. Does who we are help people to see Jesus and the true meaning of Christmas? Or do we distract from the main message by not framing the word clearly. Maybe we put in too many other words and they distract from the Word himself.

The BLACK letters of scripture stand out because they are clear against a WHITE background. To be this kind of background we need to “cast away the works of darkness and put on the armour of light”(from the Advent Sunday collect). That’s about using some of our waiting time to let God shape and mould us more into the people he wants us to be – more loving, more resistant to the selfish desires that come from without and within.

May we all use the waiting, reflecting time of Advent to be a better background against which Jesus can be seen!

And when it does come, have a wonder-filled Christmas!

With love

Graham

Dear Friends,

Has anyone else recently had the feeling, “Oh my goodness, it’s Autumn already!”?
I can’t believe how quickly this year has gone; it feels like there has been so much change – for us as a church, nationally within the political system, and globally. There is so much going on. It’s hard to keep up. One of the pitfalls I regularly have to stop myself from falling into is trying to keep up with the ever increasing rate of change. My natural instinct is to run faster and harder to keep up with all the new things that are going on in my life.

A good example of this happening to me recently was at my sister’s wedding in the middle of last month where I was officiating. It was such a massive privilege and one of the real joys and perks of being a vicar. But like with all weddings it was a very busy weekend with lots of moving parts. On the morning of the wedding, Jess, my sister, had asked Hannah and I to take a few things to the venue. A few things turned into a big car full of boxes, cheese, wedding favours, photos and boards. Needless to say everything took a lot longer than we expected. Hannah and I got back to our hotel stressed out and with just 1 hour remaining to get ready for the wedding.

Does this sound familiar? A busy life with lots of moving parts and not enough time to do everything that you have to do? I wonder what you would do in that moment? Hannah suggested that we pray. I felt like there was too much to do and we didn’t have the time, but because I’m a good husband who listens to his much wiser wife I took the advice and we sat on the sofa together to pray.

And so I found myself in the hour before marrying my sister and brother-in-law taking a moment to pray. The 5 minutes we spent on that sofa were invaluable. We really didn’t have the time to stop what we were doing and pray but in retrospect it turned out we were too busy notto pray. We needed to stop, centre ourselves back on Jesus and pray for what was about to take place. If I hadn’t done that I would not have been able to lead the service or enjoy the rest of the day.

So what about you, at the end of another busy year and as we head into another busy Christmas, what are you going to do? Are you going to try and work faster and harder? Or are you going to take time to stop and pray?

On Saturday 24th November, Otley Parish Church are hosting a day of
prayer which will be led by Bishop Helen-Ann (see page 7 for more details).

Come and pray, especially if you are too busy.

Jimmy

 

Dear Friends,

Janet and I brought our son Tim to Bath last week for the start of his second year. We drove to Sainsbury’s to do some shopping.

Like they do in Otley, Sainsbury’s have a camera which records your car’s number plate as you enter the store’s car park. You have 90 minutes allowed before you become liable to a fine for staying too long.

We were in a queue of cars moving very slowly. I let the car ahead drive on and watched its number plate appear on the screen overhead. Once it was through I accelerated a bit so that I passed quickly past the camera’s view. Our car’s number plate did not show on the screen. We watched the car behind us pass through and its number appeared as normal. We had got through undetected!

I’m not telling you this so you can try it out on the camera as you enter the Otley Sainsbury’s! It made me think about getting in under the radar. About doing something and not being noticed.

At the time I was thinking about the sermon for last Sunday from Mark 9. The disciples are travelling with Jesus and arguing about who is the greatest among them. They must have been confident he was out of earshot. I imagine it was a rolling conversation – a recurring thread in many conversations throughout the day, with plenty of banter. At the end of the day in Peter’s house, there is silence as Jesus asks them what they were discussing on the road. But of course he knows. He always seems to know.

A favourite Psalm which I often reflect on is Psalm 139 which begins:
“You have searched me, Lord, and you know me.”

The psalm speaks of God’s intimate knowledge of each one of us from the moment of our conception, and every moment of every day. So verse 2:
“You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.”
There’s no getting under God’s radar. And that’s a bit scary. So verse 7:
“Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?”

But God is love. He may be grieved by our behaviour, but Jesus shows us how extraordinarily patient and kind he is. Instead of condemning the disciples, Jesus teaches them a better way: the one who would be first (the greatest) must be the servant of all. He puts a small child in their midst  as an example of those they must particularly serve – the ones society considers least important and who cannot repay or reward them.

Two things particularly help us to live with the fact that we can never do anything under the radar with God. The first and most important is that God knows us and loves us. There is nothing we can say or do to make God love us any less.

The second is to learn to love ourselves ‘warts and all’, the way God loves us. This enables an honest humility about the fact that we frequently ‘get it wrong’. Which in turn enables us to stop our anxious self-justification or denial and accept correction. And in this way we allow God to help us grow and gradually become more fully the people he intends us to be.

Every blessing

Graham