Dear Friends,

Last century (!) I arrived as vicar in Otley. It was 1999. At the end of that year, to mark the beginning of the new millennium, the Chevin cross was first erected. It was the first time the new cross (crafted by Brent Thompson) had been raised on the Chevin, and it was the first and only time it has been raised up for New Year. Normally it only goes up over the Easter period.

Before coming to Otley, my family and I had been living and working among Sudanese refugees in Northern Uganda. One of the things that amazed us, again and again, was how there were always plenty of stories of hope in the bleakest of situations. For all Christians, the cross is the great symbol of hope, but especially for those experiencing great suffering. It tells the story of a God who made us and loves us and suffers with us. A God who shares our life and death.

The wood that made the Chevin cross was rescued from the debris of the massive IRA bomb of 1996 in Manchester. A symbol of hope emerging from the bleakest of situations. And drawing together, for me, the very different worlds of Sudan and England, because we all need light in the darkness whether we are grieving over the death of a loved one here or in a refugee camp in Northern Uganda.

Jesus’ cry from the cross (“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”) is his own cry, but it is also humanity’s cry from around the world and through history. It is a cry we have probably all made at some time from the depths of our pain. We experience the apparent triumph of evil. It seems that God is defeated. Darkness and death have overcome. But the triumph of evil is short-lived and ultimately an illusion. On the third day Jesus rises to new life. The cross is empty because Jesus is alive.

So the cross reveals much more than ‘God with us’ in our darkness. It is a symbol of his victory over death and evil. Jesus rose to new life with a resurrection body, the first-born of a healed creation. He has pioneered the way to heaven, the kingdom of God, and promises to prepare a place for us.

Throughout my time here I have met countless people who have found the cross on the Chevin an inspiration. Many of those people are not ‘churchgoers’, but the cross speaks deeply to them and they respond. Many of the folk who turn up to put up the cross or take it down are not ‘churchgoers’ either. But each one is known and cherished by God.

Thus the cross draws us to God and draws us together from all our various ‘worlds’, lighting our darkest places and inviting us to face the future with hope. Always with hope.

With much love,

Graham

Dear Friends,

Snow glorious snow! I am normally a big fan of this white fluffy powder that is currently coating Otley. In the right conditions, and in the right context snow can be the source of extraordinary enjoyment. Earlier this month I was in Hinterglemm, Austria for a week of skiing. The conditions were perfect; lots of snow and bright sunshine allowed for hours of fun for me and my family. This holiday was also the first time that Hannah and I had skied together. It was lovely for the two of us to do something together which we both enjoy, although the jury is still out on which one of us is faster!

However, snow in the wrong place, or too much of it at the wrong time isn’t fun – it’s disastrous. Personally, I like my snow on the Alps, not in Otley. In Otley, snow becomes the reason that people are left house-bound, unable to go to work and stuck in endless traffic jams.

As we are currently in the season of Lent I think this is a helpful metaphor for understanding sin. There are lots of things which are good which can become sinful when they are in the wrong place, or the wrong quantity or at the wrong time, such as sex, money, power, plastic, choice and patriotism, to name just a few. All these things can be a wonderful source of life and enjoyment, good things which God wants us to have. But in the wrong quantity, or at the wrong time and in the wrong place, these good gifts become bad for the soul. Wisdom is knowing the difference.

I pray that this Lent you would grow in wisdom. Wisdom which would enable you to take the good things which God gives us as a gift in the right quantity, at the right time, in the right place.

This has been described before as “the unforced rhythms of Grace”. Lenten disciplines shouldn’t feel like you are trudging through snow. Lenten disciplines set us free to enjoy God’s good gifts; it feels a lot like skiing down a beautiful mountainside.

God Bless,

Jimmy

Dear Friends,

I went to see the latest Star Wars film with my son Tim a few weeks ago. He got the student rate of £7.00. I was surprised to find that the total cost for our tickets was £14.00. The mathematicians among you will quickly work out that I paid the same price as Tim. But I’m not a student.

When I looked at the ticket I had been given it said ‘SENIOR’. Apparently, you need to be over 60 to get this discount at a regular showing. I’M NOT ANYWHERE NEAR THAT AGE I screamed inside. Not quite truthfully. And not loud enough for the man behind the counter to hear. I’m not opposed to a discount. But at the cost of being an OLD AGE PENSIONER???

I was immediately reminded of the last time I can remember being humiliated about my age with Tim. It was a long time ago and he was a toddler. We were on a ferry crossing to France, and Tim was on my shoulders as we watched a magician doing a kids’ show. When volunteers were asked for, Tim’s hand went straight up (just as it has done ever since in any situation where volunteers are asked for!).

The magician pointed and called him out: “Yes, you on your grandad’s shoulders”. Grandad? GRANDAD??? I may have had grey hair but I wasn’t a day over 40. Well, maybe 43. Okay I was 44.

One much-loved elderly member of our congregation used to say “The best is yet to come.” She meant eternal life. On other occasions, feeling the frustrations of old age, she would say “well, at least it’s better than the alternative.” Obviously, there is a conflict between these sentiments but they are both real, and in different ways they both express optimism and humour. Great qualities in the face of any struggle.

When Mary and Joseph bring the baby Jesus into the Temple in Jerusalem, they meet Simeon and Anna. Two elderly people. Both are faithful, patient and deeply spiritual. They recognise who Jesus is. They honour him, and they have an honourable place in his story.

By the end of 2018, if we are spared, we will all be a year older. We will also have had many opportunities to grow spiritually. Could we grow a year wiser, a year more secure in God’s love? What can help that happen?

We have many examples to learn from in Scripture and in our community today. A good sense of humour and some words of St Paul may help all of us who are feeling our age:
“Therefore, we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.” (2 Corinthians 4:16)

With much love,

Graham

Dear Friends,

One evening recently, Janet and I decided to relax and watch a film at home. That was the easy decision. As usual, it got a bit harder when we asked each other, “What would you like to watch?”

We had a few new DVDs to choose from and settled on what looked like a good love story (“fabulously romantic” the cover proclaims) called ‘United Kingdom’ about a black man and a white woman and “a love that shook an empire”. We didn’t read the blurb on the back of the box, but with the lovely Rosamund Pike on the cover we thought were onto a winner.

A winner it proved to be but not quite as we imagined it. ‘United Kingdom’ is a wonderful film based on a true story and set in the late 1940s and early 1950s. But we were watching anything but light entertainment. Rosamund Pike plays Ruth Williams, the London office worker who falls in love with black student Seretse Kharma, played by David Oyelowo. Seretse turns out to be king of Bechuanaland (modern Botswana) which rather complicates their relationship!

They marry in 1948 in the face of fierce opposition from both their families and despite attempts by the British government to prevent it. They soon move to Bechuanaland, for Seretse to take up his rightful position as king. But this too is fraught with difficulty and opposition. Seretse’s uncle opposes his being accepted as king. The British government opposes it because Seretse is married to a white woman and in neighbouring South Africa apartheid is raising its ugly head and Britain has economic and political reasons to keep South Africa happy.

What on earth has this got to do with Christmas?

At first glance, the Christmas story can also look like a lovely heart-warming story – a young couple in love on an exciting journey to the man’s home area, some fluffy farm animals and a chubby baby who gets lots of lovely and mysterious visitors. Delightful, unchallenging entertainment.

However, the Christmas story turns out to be about a severe testing, and the ultimate triumph, of love in the most difficult and sometimes brutal circumstances. It too is about a king as yet unrecognised. It too takes place amid the machinations of local politics and of a colonial empire. Like Ruth Williams, Mary is a young inexperienced girl who says ‘yes’ without any real idea of what saying ‘yes’ means, and finds herself thrust from her sheltered life into a story that will cause “the falling and rising of many”.

Our society would like to put Santa Claus at the heart of Christmas and sideline the birth of Jesus to a lovely undemanding story such as we enjoy in many a nativity play. But it’s not entertainment.

So this Christmas let’s enter into the extraordinary tale of Jesus’ birth in a way that’s faithful to the original reality. It won’t be so comfortable but it will surely be inspiring.

Have a great Christmas!

Graham

Dear Friends

You may have heard a story like this of one elderly couple who were troubled by hearing problems….

John was becoming increasingly frustrated with his wife’s inability to hear what he said. “I can hear you quite well thank you” Ada would say.

So John told her he was going to test her hearing. Later that day, when Ada was in the kitchen, he went into the hall and asked in his normal voice “What are you cooking for tea, my love?” No reply.

John moved into the sitting room nearer to the kitchen and asked in the same voice “What are you cooking for tea, my love?” No reply.

Finally John stood at the door of the kitchen and repeated “What are you cooking for tea, my love?” Ada replied “For the third time, John, I’m cooking chicken casserole!”

A friend of mine was talking recently about the US Presidential election, pondering how Donald Trump came to be elected. He told me Hilary Clinton had written a book reviewing what happened. He hadn’t read the book but he had read several reviews of it in the press. He said the reviews could be summarised as “Why everyone else was to blame for my failure to get elected.”

I don’t know if that is a fair summary or not. But I do know that both these situations illustrate a common human failing which we probably all share to some extent. We find it hard to admit our own weaknesses or failings. We can be very good at justifying ourselves, and letting others bear the blame. We can often think that the problem is with someone else when we may actually be the problem ourselves. Sorry may indeed be the hardest word.

On a personal level this is destructive, since good relationships can only be built on honesty and a degree of self-awareness. On a bigger level, as a society, when we are blind to our own failings we find scapegoats, classes of people to blame. Usually people who are ‘not like us’. People we can label, make generalisations about, and readily de-humanise.

In this scenario, where people lack the humility, or the wisdom, to acknowledge their failings, it is perhaps inevitable that people blame God for the bad things that happen in the world, while failing to credit him with all the good things. God is ‘in the dock’ and we are pointing the finger at him.

A greater humility and honesty about our own failings allows us to receive the mercy of God. It enables us to discover that the fault lines in our own hearts and minds and souls are connected to the fault lines we see in other people, and in creation itself. All is in need of healing. And in discovering the healing mercy of God for ourselves, we are re-connected to the source of healing for all of creation.

God is speaking to us all the time. Until we acknowledge that the problem of hearing him is with us not him, we can’t progress in the relationship, nor have we much to offer a world which is deaf to his voice.

As Jesus said: Whoever has ears to hear – let them hear!

Graham

Dear Friends,

My grandfather was Head Brewer at the Guinness brewery in Dublin. Even before my teenage years, I wanted to acquire (and be allowed to acquire!) the taste for Guinness. And especially the exclusive directors’ brew that my grandfather always had in a keg at his home.

Inevitably, Guinness was a regular topic of conversation at Sunday Lunch round the table in my grandparents’ house. The trouble was, I really didn’t like it. But then, as an acquired taste, I wasn’t expected to like it. So when I was finally allowed to drink beer, I started with a bottle of ‘ale’, which my grandfather said was ‘refreshing’, though I never saw him drink it.

Eventually I acquired the taste for Guinness. To be honest, it was long after I started drinking it. I would never have admitted to finding it bitter and hard to swallow, but that’s how it was for me to start with. And sometimes a bottle of Guinness today can still taste unpleasantly bitter but mostly I enjoy it.

I was reminded of this on holiday a few weeks back when I decided that I needed to acquire the taste for proper marmalade. Marmalade with chunks of bitter Seville oranges. I’d just bought some fine cut rubbish from the local supermarket and found it sweet and insipid. Really just sweet orange jam. So I went back and bought some proper stuff. And I began to enjoy it.

The trick, as with Guinness, was to embrace the bitterness. (And the unpleasant texture of the boiled orange skin.) Only then could the richness and fullness of the whole flavour be appreciated.

I was reflecting on acquired tastes and why anyone would ever bother to acquire a taste for something that is initially bitter or unpleasant to experience. Yet obviously people do – Guinness, marmalade and much more.

Part of the answer is that people tell you it’s good. The taste is worth acquiring. It’s worth getting over the initial bitterness.

When Jesus says, in John’s Gospel, that he has come to bring us fullness of life, this gives me a clue as to what he may mean. He encourages us, and enables us, to taste life to the full, experience life to the full.

At the heart of this is embracing the bitterness, the harsh realities of life. When we do this we also taste the richness, and the sweetness of life, and at the heart of it the good news of Jesus’ death and resurrection. The bitterness of death mixed with, and transformed by, the sweetness of resurrection and the promise of the coming kingdom and the healing of creation.

So let us acquire a taste for life. Life in all its fullness.

With love,

Graham

Dear friends,

It seems that Sainsbury’s supermarkets are going ahead with a pilot project in which they pull out of the Fairtrade certification (the Fairtrade Mark) on fairly traded tea given by the Fairtrade Foundation.

We are all now familiar with the fair-trade logo on many products which independently guarantees that producers of tea, coffee, sugar, bananas etc. will not only get a fair price for their produce, but also a small premium which provides additional investment in their local communities, education etc. in many of the poorest parts of the world.

The Fairtrade Foundation has issued this simple statement:

‘The Fairtrade Foundation is not partnering with the new Sainsbury’s Foundation pilot in tea due to fundamental concerns that it falls below the core principles of Fairtrade and particularly because farming groups in Africa felt that it would take control away from them.’

On the Fairtrade Foundation website, you can read an open letter from tea producers in Africa explaining why they will not co-operate with Sainsburys in this venture. (http://www.fairtrade.org.uk/Media- Centre/News/May-2017/Open-letter-to-Sainsburys- from-Fairtrade-producers)

Cadburys (their new owners) offer a better model. They retain the Fairtrade mark and are co- operating with the Fairtrade Foundation in a new scheme to help Cocoa farmers: ‘Cocoa Life’. Unlike Cadburys, Sainsbury’s is acting unilaterally, not in partnership with the Fairtrade Foundation.

The principles of Fairtrade and of international development are to empower local communities around the world rather than wielding power over them which is what the new Sainsbury’s move does. No wonder the farmers are accusing Sainsbury’s of acting in a colonial manner.

It is a disturbing development by a supermarket which has made a very significant contribution to international development by its support of the Fairtrade movement.

It seems that Tesco also are planning to move their fairly traded offee away from the Fairtrade mark to another ‘RainforestAlliance’ certification mark which can only confuse shoppers and muddy the waters.

It seems to me that it is not just up to Sainsbury’s or Tesco to make this decision on their own. We, the shoppers,use them as a conduit for our own giving to help others less fortunate than we are. They are changing the way our money is used.

Can we trust a packet which says its contents are “certified fairly traded”? Who certifies it? Who sets the standards that must be adhered to? Any self-regulation carries the risk, or the likelihood, that self-interest, profit, convenience and other motivations will muddy the waters.

The Fairtrade Foundation is not a perfect organisation, but it is a very good one, and it should be strengthened in its work, and not undermined by Sainsbury’s or Tesco.

Have a great summer and don’t stop protesting!

Graham

Dear friends,

I hope you’ll have been aware that Jimmy, our curate, has been leading a series of evenings in Casa Vitae café under the general title of “A Conversation about Faith”. Each evening a different issue has been discussed, and people are drawn into conversation about faith and Christian faith in particular. They have gone very well.

Good conversations happen when someone speaks and someone else listens before responding. When someone listens carefully to us, without judgement, trying to understand ‘where we are coming from’ it is a lovely thing. It’s very different when someone is just waiting for you to finish (or sometimes not even waiting for you to finish!) so they can have their say.

Good conversations take us out of ourselves and into someone else’s shoes. They help us see things from another perspective. They broaden our understanding. Sometimes they make us change our minds, or face our prejudice which we can then begin to unlearn.

Good listening is always a costly business. It can have surprising results. We can go into a conversation fairly sure of our ground and find it taken from under us. But that is the way to growth in maturity and wisdom.

It’s just as true when faith is part of the conversation. Good listening to someone, irrelevant of their beliefs, does two things. It opens up the possibility of us learning something. And it opens up the possibility of being able to share something that is relevant to the person’s thoughts and experience. We might say it can be incarnational – through careful listening, the Word takes flesh and comes alive in the midst of that person’s life.

But our conversations are never just us and the person we are talking to. God is always there, loving us both. Ready to teach us, or speak through us. So we listen for his prompting. Not just in conversations about faith but in all our relationships, in all our conversations. The risen Lord is always present by his Spirit. Thank God for Pentecost.

With love,

Graham

Dear Friends

Someone Janet and I know well told us recently that the reputation of Otley Parish Church has travelled far and wide – as far as Manchester anyway. Apparently a woman visited our Church and came away enthused. She couldn’t wait to get back to her Church and tell them all about it.

So what do you think it might have been that so moved her? It was our dishwasher! Apparently she returned to her Church with a mission to get one like ours. We’ve become known as the Church with the dishwasher.

I suppose it could have been worse…

It’s not easy to know what impression we, as a Church, make on outsiders or visitors – what we look like or are remembered for. In this context, one of our greatest resources is the people who’ve recently joined the Church or started coming along to Sunday worship or another regular activity. They see things that we can no longer see, notice things we don’t. We do well to encourage them to tell us what we look like, to help us look in the mirror.

Why should we worry about what we look like to the community at large? I trust we all know the answer to that. As Archbishop William Temple famously said – the Church is the only organisation which exists for non-members. We want people to join us in following Jesus, and so it’s important to know what helps and what hinders that happening.

Especially in these weeks following Easter, we reflect on the Church as a gathering of people in the presence of the risen Lord Jesus. We say each time we gather formally in worship:

The Lord is here.

His Spirit is with us.

So ultimately it’s not about us but about the God who brings us together. God as we know him in Jesus.

So the purpose of our dishwashers and our reordering, our welcoming and our praying, our worship and our service of the wider community is to be here for Jesus, reflecting his character, promoting his priorities, telling his story and nurturing new disciples. This is what it is to be the body of Christ.

So what should we look like to outsiders? “Like Jesus” must be the answer. We can only look like Jesus by being like him. Each of us in our own unique way, in our own unique set of circumstances, and (especially) all of us together as a Church.

The resurrection of Jesus enables him to be at the centre of our worship, our lives and our community today, moulding us into his likeness through the power of his Spirit.

Being like Jesus will not always win us friends – like him we will often be outspoken and challenging. We will hear and echo his call to love beyond the natural limits of love, to live for the common good, to welcome the stranger, feed the hungry and bring good news to the poor.

It’s all rather more demanding than having an effective dishwasher! But infinitely more life-giving.

With love

Graham