So, how do you cope when things don't go the way you'd hoped?
I've just received news today that has frustrated me and left me quite deflated. I'd applied for a job that I thought I had at least a chance of being interviewed for, and one that I felt reasonably confident I could do, but have learnt today that I have not made the short list.
Naturally throughout the process of considering the post, filling out the application, submitting the form and waiting for a response I have been praying. My prayer has never been that I might get the job, but that whatever the outcome it would be the right thing. I believe that's the right way to pray - not forcing God's hand, but working to attune my will to God's.
So if my prayers have been answered, then I know that it wasn't right for me to get this job. Surely I should be pleased? After all, "we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him" [Romans 8:28 NIV]. But that still doesn't stop me being disappointed: knowing God's will doesn't necessarily mean you're going to be comfortable with it in the short term. Yet God must have something for me, and like Abram I may only get to see the way one step at a time. Next step: my re-invitation is being considered this summer...
Monday, 28 March 2011
Saturday, 26 March 2011
In the Wilderness
The season of Lent in the Christian calendar is a time, for some, of austerity, fasting and prayerful reflection. It is a time for us to meditate on the time that Jesus spent in the desert, clarifying his calling and his identity as Son of God.
The idea of 'Wilderness' is one which is being explored in an exhibition of contemporary art at Wesley Hall, one of the churches that I minister in in Sheffield. The exhibition was launched last evening, and contains some striking pieces of work in various media, ranging from photographs and water colours, to clay models, light installations and video animations, to seedlings in forty glass jars suspended from the ceiling and a bookshelf empty but for a potted plant and an iPhone.
All of this is set up in the space that we usually use (and will continue to use during the exhibition) for worship, which is a huge space and well-suited to this kind of display. To be honest, it's probably too big for the congregation we normally get, so this gives us an opportunity to consider how we use the space we have, and how we use the time we have for worship.
As we will be worshipping amongst the art, it has been decided to use the theme of Wilderness in worship during the time of the exhibition. We will be exploring five particular themes from this Sunday until Easter:
The idea of 'Wilderness' is one which is being explored in an exhibition of contemporary art at Wesley Hall, one of the churches that I minister in in Sheffield. The exhibition was launched last evening, and contains some striking pieces of work in various media, ranging from photographs and water colours, to clay models, light installations and video animations, to seedlings in forty glass jars suspended from the ceiling and a bookshelf empty but for a potted plant and an iPhone.
All of this is set up in the space that we usually use (and will continue to use during the exhibition) for worship, which is a huge space and well-suited to this kind of display. To be honest, it's probably too big for the congregation we normally get, so this gives us an opportunity to consider how we use the space we have, and how we use the time we have for worship.
As we will be worshipping amongst the art, it has been decided to use the theme of Wilderness in worship during the time of the exhibition. We will be exploring five particular themes from this Sunday until Easter:
A Place of Wandering and WonderingIf any of you are in or around Sheffield, why not pop in. Details of the exhibition, opening times etc, can be found here
A Place of Nourishment
A Place of Abandonment
A Place of Calling
A Place of Transformation
Tuesday, 22 March 2011
Wonders of the Universe
Like many others, I'm captivated by Professor Brian Cox's BBC series 'The Wonders of the Universe', being broadcast on Sunday evenings. The enthusiasm that he has for his subject is infectious - he is a true evangelist for astrophysics, though I have to confess that I have always found the subject matter interesting.
As a small boy, growing up in the 1960s, I was fascinated by the Apollo space programme, and eagerly collected clippings from Radio Times outlining the flight-plans of the missions from Apollo 8 (the first lunar orbit) to Apollo 11 (the first lunar landing) and beyond. It was an exciting time to be alive as new frontiers were crossed. For Cox the turning point was Carl Sagen's TV series 'Cosmos' (he is 7 years younger than me, so the Apollo missions probably passed him by).
Cox has told the story of the origins of the universe: how every atom of every element of every living thing was 'created in the heart of a dying star', thrown together through the irresistible force of gravity, and ultimately destined for destruction as entropy takes its inexorable course.
As a Christian I have been fascinated by his ideas, and have found nothing in what Cox says that contradicts my understanding of a Creator God. Cox, as I understand it, holds no theistic beliefs, holding to the supremacy of science to explain everything. But to my mind he is only answering one set of questions in his programmes - questions of 'how' - of mechanics. There is no attempt to address questions of 'why' - of purpose. It is, I recognise, dangerous to compartmentalise the science/ faith debate by saying that one is about 'how' and the other about 'why', but I have yet to find Cox addressing these underlying issues. To my mind, he is simply showing us (without openly acknowledging it) how God created the Universe - by establishing the physical laws that underpin reality and by setting in place the processes of creation.
In college we would often ask this question: 'Did the Big Bang make God jump?', or did God 'press the button'? I think Cox is showing us what happens when 'God created...' [Gen 1:1], when 'God said...' [Gen 1:3, 6, 9, 14, 20 & 24]
As a small boy, growing up in the 1960s, I was fascinated by the Apollo space programme, and eagerly collected clippings from Radio Times outlining the flight-plans of the missions from Apollo 8 (the first lunar orbit) to Apollo 11 (the first lunar landing) and beyond. It was an exciting time to be alive as new frontiers were crossed. For Cox the turning point was Carl Sagen's TV series 'Cosmos' (he is 7 years younger than me, so the Apollo missions probably passed him by).
Cox has told the story of the origins of the universe: how every atom of every element of every living thing was 'created in the heart of a dying star', thrown together through the irresistible force of gravity, and ultimately destined for destruction as entropy takes its inexorable course.
As a Christian I have been fascinated by his ideas, and have found nothing in what Cox says that contradicts my understanding of a Creator God. Cox, as I understand it, holds no theistic beliefs, holding to the supremacy of science to explain everything. But to my mind he is only answering one set of questions in his programmes - questions of 'how' - of mechanics. There is no attempt to address questions of 'why' - of purpose. It is, I recognise, dangerous to compartmentalise the science/ faith debate by saying that one is about 'how' and the other about 'why', but I have yet to find Cox addressing these underlying issues. To my mind, he is simply showing us (without openly acknowledging it) how God created the Universe - by establishing the physical laws that underpin reality and by setting in place the processes of creation.
In college we would often ask this question: 'Did the Big Bang make God jump?', or did God 'press the button'? I think Cox is showing us what happens when 'God created...' [Gen 1:1], when 'God said...' [Gen 1:3, 6, 9, 14, 20 & 24]
Saturday, 19 March 2011
What a Relief!
I must confess that telethon's don't really grab me, and I didn't spend all of last night glued to 'Comic Relief', but I did manage to catch some of it. In the brief moments that I managed to watch I have to say that I was profoundly moved by the 'Eastenders' section about young people being groomed into prostitution, and David Tennant's piece about malaria prevention in Uganda.
A lot of people will have done some very silly things yesterday to raise money for this worthy cause, and kudos to them for doing it. One of the strengths, I think, of events like this, is the juxtaposition of comedy and tragedy - two extremes of emotion - in order to enforce a point about the inequity that still abounds in our so-called civilised world.
I woke this morning to find that a staggering (that's the usual adjective, isn't it?) £74.3 million was raised on the night, and who knows what the total will grow to in the coming weeks. And although many of those taking part would not admit it - and some would openly deny it - in this I can see the Kingdom of God breaking through, as hearts and lives are changed and the poor have good news told to them.
Thank you once again, Comic Relief, for this life-changing work!
A lot of people will have done some very silly things yesterday to raise money for this worthy cause, and kudos to them for doing it. One of the strengths, I think, of events like this, is the juxtaposition of comedy and tragedy - two extremes of emotion - in order to enforce a point about the inequity that still abounds in our so-called civilised world.
I woke this morning to find that a staggering (that's the usual adjective, isn't it?) £74.3 million was raised on the night, and who knows what the total will grow to in the coming weeks. And although many of those taking part would not admit it - and some would openly deny it - in this I can see the Kingdom of God breaking through, as hearts and lives are changed and the poor have good news told to them.
Thank you once again, Comic Relief, for this life-changing work!
Monday, 14 March 2011
Was it a good service?
What makes a good act of worship? I ask that partly because we had two contrasting services yesterday at Wesley Hall, and I'm sat here reflecting on them, wondering which was the 'best'.
The first was a full service: a baptism of the daughter of a couple in our church, who'd brought family and friends along to share with them, as well as Holy Communion. There must have been getting on for 100 people there, of all ages. The worship was uplifting: contemporary in the main, with traditional hymns alongside; well-lead musically by our worship band (led by the mother of the girl I baptised); the singing in turn boisterous and reflective; the sermon (I'm told) was helpful, appropriate, relevant and humorous. Many of our regulars would wish for such a worship experience every week if they could (but the vagaries of the Methodist preaching plan often militate against this). It was about 1 hour 40 minutes, but that didn't seem to bother most of those who were there, who stayed behind for drinks, christening cake and chats long after the service ended: indeed we had to hustle people out of the church to make way for the Korean Church who use the building after us.
The second service was a much smaller affair. Once a month we hold a Prayer service in the evening, and yesterday evening 6 of us gathered. We worshipped God in song and speech, accompanied by a single guitar; we listened to the words of scripture; but most of our time was spent in intercession for God's world, God's church and God's vision for us as a congregation of God's people.
Which was the better act of worship? How does one judge, and should one judge? We often fall into the trap of thinking that worship, to be 'good', has to move us, affect us, change us, or challenge us - always focusing on us as the focus of that worship, as if it was there primarily for our benefit. But it is worship of God, for God. Or should be. Whether it is 'humble prayer' or 'fervent praise'; whether it is 'a thousand tongues' singing our 'great Redeemer's praise', or humbly acknowledging that 'Lord we are few'; if it is offered purely and simply for the glory of God, and God is pleased with it, then surely, despite any aesthetic assessment of our own, it has been good to praise our God.
The first was a full service: a baptism of the daughter of a couple in our church, who'd brought family and friends along to share with them, as well as Holy Communion. There must have been getting on for 100 people there, of all ages. The worship was uplifting: contemporary in the main, with traditional hymns alongside; well-lead musically by our worship band (led by the mother of the girl I baptised); the singing in turn boisterous and reflective; the sermon (I'm told) was helpful, appropriate, relevant and humorous. Many of our regulars would wish for such a worship experience every week if they could (but the vagaries of the Methodist preaching plan often militate against this). It was about 1 hour 40 minutes, but that didn't seem to bother most of those who were there, who stayed behind for drinks, christening cake and chats long after the service ended: indeed we had to hustle people out of the church to make way for the Korean Church who use the building after us.
The second service was a much smaller affair. Once a month we hold a Prayer service in the evening, and yesterday evening 6 of us gathered. We worshipped God in song and speech, accompanied by a single guitar; we listened to the words of scripture; but most of our time was spent in intercession for God's world, God's church and God's vision for us as a congregation of God's people.
Which was the better act of worship? How does one judge, and should one judge? We often fall into the trap of thinking that worship, to be 'good', has to move us, affect us, change us, or challenge us - always focusing on us as the focus of that worship, as if it was there primarily for our benefit. But it is worship of God, for God. Or should be. Whether it is 'humble prayer' or 'fervent praise'; whether it is 'a thousand tongues' singing our 'great Redeemer's praise', or humbly acknowledging that 'Lord we are few'; if it is offered purely and simply for the glory of God, and God is pleased with it, then surely, despite any aesthetic assessment of our own, it has been good to praise our God.
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