Methtastic

Benny junior had a party on Saturday evening for about 12 friends as a farewell to the Cotswolds. (Though he’ll still be going to the same school after we’ve moved 15 miles down the road.) It went well, but teenagers, you can never predict them can you? Normally a dozen or so teenagers would be like a herd of locusts (or whatever the collective noun is) descending wouldn’t they? So we catered accordingly. They hardly ate anything but sat round drinking Woodpecker cider (strictly rationed!) and munched a few Pringles.

What amazed us was the choice of music. One friend of Junior’s brought an amplifier and speakers which they could plug their MP3 players into. And the music on their MP3s was all stuff of our era - Bowie, Whitesnake, T Rex, Jimi Hendrix. (Though sadly no Led Zep!) The 3 or 4 teenage girls wanted to play some of their (contemporary) stuff but thankfully the boys wouldn’t let them. So Mrs D and I sat in the lounge out of the way with a glass of wine listening to the music, while they all chatted in the garden. Weird!

We went to see the manse last week and empty it seems so much bigger (the previous people had loads of stuff.) The dining room is a bit small that’s all. All in all it’s good.

It’s only 5 weeks until we move now. I’ve not been in work today (and I finish work on Friday anyway) so have been doing some painting around the house getting it ready for out tenant. So it’s now beocming very real.

This week inevitably has been lots of good-byes to colleagues and business contacts. I went out to lunch with a colleague from Bristol yesterday. She’s a Christian (albeit by her own admission not a very devote Catholic) and she’s been very interested in what I’ve been doing. She comes from Kingswood so is very knowledgeable about John Wesley and George Whitfield. In fact she told me about a special beacon commemorating where Wesley preached on Hanham Mount. I’d never heard of it but I found out all about it on the web.

I’m dreading Friday. Not the leaving but the inevitable presentation and fuss. I don’t like being the centre of attention and being on the receiving end of thank you’s, though I am the life and soul of the party normally. I think there was something in my Myers Briggs stuff about why I don’t like being thanked. Any ideas?

In just under 2 months time I will be in circuit. It’s becoming very exciting and very scary at the same time. In fact it struck me earlier today that it’s a bit like the feelings I had when I moved from my little village junior school to the local comprehensive. I’ve got a mixture of apprehension and excitement.

And just like going to a new school there’s been all the uniform stuff to buy - clerical shirts, cassock, stoles etc. In fact I’m wondering whether I need to go and buy a new pair of rugby boots and a geometry set - or maybe I’m just getting stressed!

I met Lamplighter for lunch today and as always she was so supportive. I am so grateful to God for the friendships I have made with people like Lamplighter and others throughout my training. They have helped me so much. At times I feel guilty that it’s all one way traffic. So I was pleased on the weekend to receive a card from my friend John in which he thanks me for my friendship and says “you’ve helped me in more ways than you’ll ever know”. And all I did was listen to John’s wonderful (and often obscene!) jokes and share a bottle of red wine from time to time.

On Sunday at the church we’ve been worshipping at for the last 8 years I was sharing the service with the retired minister who has been my mentor for the last 4 years as I’ve trained. Well I don’t know about where you were on Sunday but here in Cirencester the Holy Spirit was at work.

The service lasted about an hour and a half and normally there’s muttering if the service tips over the hour. But not on Sunday. The hymns were sung with gusto and the organist and pianist worked together to play magnificently.

Combine this with a very moving communion service and I think we well and truly celebrated Pentecost.

What made it even more special for me though was that the Methodist Circuit presented me with a stole which is beautiful. But more than that the words spoken by the Local Preachers secretary and the Circuit steward were so affirming for me as well as being so kind and thoughtful.

I laughed and cried at the same time.

I was asked to give a testimony about my training over the last 4 years and my future ministry.

I’ve just had my annual report from college. And in the section that covers “Self and God” the tutor has written that I am moving from having an activist faith to a more affective faith.

There’s a prize of a Cadburys Creme Egg to someone who can translate this into English for me.

I’m just reading a book by Melanie Phillips called “Londonistan” in which she puts forward a thesis that Britain has become the European hub for the promotion, recruitment and financing of Islamic terrorism. This has happened she argues because of the way Britain has been soft on Islamic extremists such as Abu Hamsa; has allowed extremists in under the cloak of multiculturalism and because the increasing secularisation of our society has pushed Christianity to one side, Islamist extremists have moved in to fill the vacuum.

This precis is my own. You need to read the book to see for yourselves.

Inter faith relations is something I have become more and more interested in. And recently with college I went on a World Faiths weekend in Birmingham. In fact the weekend focused solely on Islam. We had some very well informed Christian speakers who have studied Islam and lived in Islamic countries. One speaker was a minister of a church in Birmingham that is on the same road as a mosque. The minister has built close friendships with members of the mosque committee and the president of the mosque welcomed us warmly.

The vicar told us how a number of the wards surrounding the centre of Birmingham (including his) are now at least 60% Muslim. The local school is now split 70% Muslim and 30% “Christian” (he mentioned how Sikhs and Hindus have moved out of the area.) And in the last 10 years 80,000 white people have moved out of Birmingham.

I am acutely aware that in mentioning this I am treading really close to BNP territory. But these are figures from the most recent census. And all I am trying to show is how the make up of our second city is changing. How should we as Christians react?

The whole way in which we should interact with people of other faiths is something I’m trying to work through. We as Christians must welcome people of other faiths and no faith as neighbours. But how do we view other faiths? Are all the faiths equal in a sense for seeing God in different guises? (I don’t think so personally) Should we evangelise in predominantly Muslim areas or is that insensitive?

I do believe we should join with people of other faiths to  stand up to secularism. And one Muslim we spoke to said how people of faith should work together to combat “moral decline” in our society. I don’t have a problem with that - though I suspect he and I would have differing views on some issues e.g. the role of women in society.

I am concerned that as Christians we don’t appear to be having much of a discussion about this. Or maybe that’s only in the sleepy backwater I currently live in. Perhaps in bigger towns and cities it is on the agenda of churches.

Discuss!

I posted previously about some of the (in my opinion) nonesense I encounter in college occasionally about “churchmanship”. (There’s a previous post about not putting books on the communion table.) Well here’s another one for you.

I took morning prayers a couple of weeks back. It was a beautiful spring morning so I wanted a really good praise worthy hymn. I chose “Alleluia! Sing to Jesus” and thought nothing of it.

After prayers one of the lecturers came and had a word. “You know that you shouldn’t have hymns with ‘Alleluia’ in during lent. We shouldn’t be saying ‘Alleluia’ until Easter.”

A new one on me again. Though I have to say I follow the logic. There is something about letting rip with lots of Alleluias on Easter Day.

I realised the other day I’d not blogged for a while. Well that’s about to change as there’s a few things I’ve thinking about and will be sharing.

It’s funny but I feel a bit guilty about not having blogged. It’s like the scene in “The Railway Children” where they decide they’ll go and wave to the trains again after not having done so for some while. They realise that when they were lonely and upset about being in a new place the railway provided a kind of friendship and focus for them. But once they were back on their feet they left the railway behind and found other distractions.  That’s how I feel about not having been active in the Vox Community for 6 weeks.

The Railway children though came about because recently I’ve felt as if I’ve pulled into a siding after being flat out on the main line for a while. (And by main line I mean as in express trains - not drugs!) It’s an odd feeling. Having been so busy with studies for the last three and a bit years I now find myself with very few bits of work to finish for college.

I’m in a kind of limbo. I don’t feel like a student any more but I’m not yet a minister either. So I’ve been sat in the siding watching everyone else go charging by and wondering when I’ll be back on track again.

I’ve felt guilt about not being busy. Especially on Thursday evening when I’d normally be at college. I shared this sense of guilt with my spiritual director who pointed out that there will be too few quiet times in years to come so I should make the most of this God given opportunity to be quiet. And he reminded me that Jesus needed time out from time to time.

So guys life in a siding can be good. It just takes some getting used to. I just hope that when I do get back on the main line I won’t be delayed by leaves on the line!

Fional in her comment on my post on New Homiletics mentioned the power of testimony. And I agree how wonderful it can be.

A few years ago I’d been invited to preach at what was then our home church. There was a preaching series following a Roger Jones type musical that had been staged at the church called “Burning Questions”.

I can’t quite remember what “Burning Question” I was supposed to preach on. What I do remember though was the passage of scripture - Revelation 3: 14 - 22. A young woman who I had not met before (she’d been away at University - though had been rasied at the church and her parents still attended) read the lesson.

To my surprise, after she’d  read Kate asked me if she could say a few words. I said she could and boy am I pleased I did for she gave the most powerful, moving testimony after that on how she had been a luke warm Christian but had come to Christ.

I was moved to tears as were many others.

I was genuinely tempted not to preach. I did not think I could say much more. And yet the Holy Spirit prompted me to preach and I think it was the most powerful sermon I have ever preached. The Holy Spirit came on Kate and I that day and although I can’t speak for what others thought I know the two of us were richly blessed that day.

I attended a residential with college last weekend looking at “Homiletics” (preaching to use the usual term!) I went off in grumpy old man mode “I’ve been a local preacher for 15 years” “Half the Anglicans hadn’t even read a lesson until they came on this course” etc etc.

But I came away really surprised as we were told about lots of new ways of preaching. The one that really grabbed me was Story Telling. I’ve been in awe of people who can do this and didn’t think I could until two Sundays ago I decided to take the plunge and told a story based on the Wedding at Cana and to my surprise it was well received.

The chap we had to talk about story telling was brilliant. I could have listened to him for ours. I know story telling is getting big on the folk scene and I can beging to see why. He explained how stroy telling csn be used for Bible stories of course but also other stories. He is a vicar and tells stories in pubs as part of his ministry. (Sounds good to me!!)

Not something that can be used every week. It would get very samey I suspect. But once in a while would be a change for preacher and congregation.

During the weekend a small team of students worked together on a sermon to be preached at the Covenant Service on Sunday morning. (The Anglicans love the Covenant Service.) I thought this would be a disaster but far from it. It was very effective. The four of them all spoke part of it (the content is hard to describe but was very powerful) and one of them (in the gallery) was “God”

Again well worth thinking about preachers. Though takes a lot of organising.

But I’m certainly going to look at different ways of preaching from now on.

With college I attended a covenant service at the New Room the other evening. A lovely experience. To say that amazing covenant prayer in the New Room in Bristol was very special - especially at this time.
I don’t revere Wesley like some Methodists do but nevertheless it was quite something to imagine him stood in the pulpit preaching or administering communion. Both members of staff wore black cassocks and tabs and it was very fitting.

Unfortunately, yours truly broke the spell slightly. As you may know in the Covenant Service there are four Bible readings. 3 fellow students had read the Old Testament lessons and the Epistle from the lower deck pulpit.

T o get to the pulpit you have to go up a wooden flight of stairs into the gallery, across the gallery and reach the top deck for preaching or go down half a dozen setps to get to the lower deck to read the Bible.
We had a hymn and it was time for the Gospel. And no one made a move to read it. We all looked at each other. There were disapproving glares from the preacher in the Top pulpit. Then someone whispered “Go on Benny” (Well, they used my Christian name but you get the idea.)

Now there are two of us with the same Christian name. And I looked at him and he looked at me. Then in the dark recesses of my mind a bell rang. I’d been asked before Christmas to do the Gospel reading. My Christian name was on the order of service but I’d thought it must be the other chap.
So I got out of the box pew, crossed the wooden floor, chased up the flight of stairs into the gallery, crossed to the pulpit, down the steps into the lower pulpit, took my time introducing the reading while I tried to find it in the Bible, all the time trying to catch my breath! The retracing my steps made such a racket as the preacher started the sermon that I sat down under the gallery like a naughty boy in the corner rather than go back to my pew.
And faux pas of faux pas (for staff anyway) I forgot to do the “This is the Gospel of Christ” stuff.

I did feel a bit bad in having broken up the flow of this wonderful service but did God mind? I don’t think so.

I’m reminded of the story of John Gielgud who apparently was due to read one the lessons at Laurence Olivier’s memorial service. The lesson was announced and there was no sign of Sir John. But then there was the sound of footsteps processing down the aisle from the back the church. It took a couple of minutes for him to walk down the aisle, enter the pulpit, put on his reading glasses, find the lesson and then read it (from memory!). But what an entrance, And every eye in “the house” was on him.

I now know the feeling, but unlike JG I would rather have not been so dramatic in my entrance.