To be a Pilgrim

Last year at this time I, along with a few other hardy souls, embarked on a walk around our Methodist circuit, primarily as a fund-raiser for one of my congregations. It went very well and raised about £1,000 towards a £20k total, but it also gave us a wonderful opportunity to pray around the churches too.

So, this year I decided to repeat the exercise, but solely as a prayer exercise. I was joined by 6 others as we set off, one of whom left after 5 miles to attend his grandson's first birthday party. The rest of us made it through many heavy showers to the lunchtime stop, about 10 miles into the walk, when a family of 4 had to leave us too (including two children, who'd done really well to keep up with us). The remaining two of us completed the walk in rain and wind.

It was a great encouragement to me, and I think to the others, to find people waiting for us at the churches, to offer us refreshment and to pray with us as we travelled round. There is a lot of good work going on across the churches, and it was wonderful to hear about it and bring it to God in prayer, as well as to share prayer concerns for those in need.

As I've already hinted, the weather was not particularly kind to us, but we didn't get discouraged. In fact I found myself going back to those words of John Bunyan as we walked: "There's no discouragement will make him once relent his first avowed intent to be a pilgrim. I got home tired but enlivened by the experience again. Will we do it again next year? We'll see.

Holy space

Out for my walk this morning I was listening to a 'Thought for the Day' from earlier this week on my iPod, and the speaker, a Buddhist, was speaking about it being an anniversary in the Buddhist tradition of Gautama's 'enlightenment' sat beneath a fig tree. I then listened to a recording of Radio 4's 'Sunday' programme, and one of the reports was of a book which lists the 500 holiest sites in (I think) Britain. Towards the end of my walk I popped into the local newsagents and had a brief chat with Mahmood, the newsagent, who I'd not seen for a while. He told me that he'd just returned from a visit to Mecca (I presume it was his 'Haj'), and was quite obviously moved by the experience of visiting that place which is of such significance to Islam.

This left me reflecting on the importance of place in the spiritual life, and the linked idea of pilgrimage. My own tradition of British Methodism has a strong nostalgic sense of place around Epworth Rectory (John & Charles Wesley's birthplace), the New Room in Bristol (The first Methodist preaching house), and Wesley's Chapel in London, where John Wesley died, and there are many from around the world who journey to these places on a regular basis.

25 years ago I was a student at Cliff College, a Methodist Bible college situated in the Peak District of Derbyshire, and every year since then I have returned there for their annual 'Festival' weekend around the Spring Bank holiday. A friend of mine, who was a student at the same time as me, places his conversion to Christ at that event back in the early 1980s, and could point out the tree under which he was standing on the terrace when it happened. The place is important to him - something significant happened to him there (like Buddha) under that tree.

Last evening we held our annual meeting at Wesley Hall, and we talked - among many other things - about the space we use for worship and mission. In silence, sorrow and celebration; in sermons and in song, people have, over the years, found God in that place. God is, of course, in all things and in all places, but there are times when that presence is focused and enhanced in certain locations - when God's Spirit is evoked by the prayers of God's people over the years concentrated in that one spot. And perhaps the art, the outcome, the end of Spirituality is to recognise the presence of the Divine wherever we are, for 'surely the Lord is in this place.' And is perhaps part of the role of the Church is to help provide and maintain 'space' for people to encounter God for themselves, in their own way, in their own time.

Disappointment

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...

Prayers being answered

I've been thinking quite a lot recently about answers to prayer. I wrote earlier this week about the ways in which we are sometimes the answers to our own prayers (see An Answer to Our Own Prayers), but I was reflecting during and after a meeting last night, about recognising answers to prayers when they come.

I shared the story from Acts 12 where Peter is arrested, the church gathers to pray for his release, he is released and hurries to the house where the church are gathered for prayer. He is greeted with amazement at the door by one of the servants, but she is ridiculed by the faithful for saying that Peter is outside (and their prayers have been answered). Eventually they can't put up with the incessant banging on the door, and finally let him in. And, it says, "They were astonished."

For many months now, if not years, we have been praying for guidance for our future direction at Wesley Hall, one of the churches I have responsibility for in Sheffield. We are blessed with a 103 year-old building that was built to seat 1,000, was re-modelled in the 1990s to house around 200, and now caters for about 60. We are widely used by the local community, and by the Sheffield Korean Church, yet struggle to maintain the premises with the material resources we have. A significant proportion of the congregation are retired, and those who are still in work - the younger families - are feeling the burden of taking on increasing responsibility in the church on top of work and family commitments. The building is feeling her age, and we need to do significant work on the roof to make it water-tight.

Prayers have revolved around what our role is in the 21st century; whether we have a role in the life of the community we are part of (there is a huge Anglican/ Baptist Church - St Thomas Crookes - just next door), and if so, how we can serve them and serve God effectively and uniquely. Or, in a nut-shell: "What is our mission at Wesley Hall?"

The answers have started to come - slowly, but increasingly evident. An estimate for repairing the roof has come in at about half the cost we'd feared it would be; the Circuit have given us the services of a Mission Enabler for the year to provide impetus for mission ventures; we are exploring innovative ways in which we might administer the building, and market its potential as a venue for conferences, exhibitions & meetings; our lettings income has almost doubled in the last 3 years, as more people make use of our facilities; we are launching "Messy Church" later this Spring, to reach out to families and younger children; we are hosting a major art exhibition over Lent...

All these, I believe, have come about because God's people at Wesley Hall have consciously and purposefully come together to seek God's will for us as His people (see Which Way Now?). Our prayers are beginning to be answered: there is a knocking at the door, and many of us are beginning to believe that what we have sought from God is being provided. And I'm sure there's more to come!

An answer to our own prayers

I was preaching this morning on Nehemiah 4. In the course of what I had to say I pointed to verse 9, which reads "We prayed to our God and posted a guard..." The context is that Nehemiah has inspired the citizens of Jerusalem to begin repairing and rebuilding the walls of the city, but they are facing strong opposition, and threats from those who want the venture stopped. It's only natural for God's people, when faced with that sort of opposition, to turn to God in prayer, but the second half of the verse is key for me.

Prayer, as I understand it, is not so much about telling God what we want but about finding out what God wants. Look at Abraham's 'Dutch Auction' with God over Sodom & Gomorrah: that wasn't about Abraham trying to change God's mind, but about God helping Abraham to understand something about the holiness of God, and what God expects from his people. Prayer changes things, but more often than not those things that are changed are the minds and motives and priorities of those praying.

They needed priests: they prayed... and answered a call to ministry.
They were concerned about the conditions of the poor: they prayed... and campaigned for fair trade.
They were worried about the shut-ins: they prayed... and called in to see them.
They needed protection: they prayed... and posted a guard.

Sometimes the answers to our prayers are in our own hands.

Which way now?

Today, instead of our usual service, we shared in an extended prayer time at church. The aim was to try and discern what God was saying to us, as individual Christians and as a Church, about our future direction.

Within the Methodist tradition of which I am a part, the New Year regularly gives us an opportunity to examine our standing with God through the annual Covenant Service, as " we freely and whole-heartedly yield all things to [God's] pleasure and disposal." This year, though, we had renewed our covenant with God in September, as a new church - one which combines two congregations while retaining their independence as worshipping communities - was launched

The Church in Crookes has been seeking for a vision from God for a number of years, and that vision has focused for the last 4 or 5 years around training disaffected young people in catering and hospitality skills, while at the same time providing a service to the local community through a cafe run by the kids and their chef/teachers. Sadly, towards the end of last year, that project folded, and now we are back at God's feet, eager to know where we go next.

Our situation isn't helped by being situated in a 103 year-old listed building, which is showing increasing signs of its age. Numerous thoughts have gone through our minds: should we cut our losses and close; should we shut off part of the premises and use only what we need; should we seek to let out as much as we can to increase our income as well as our effectiveness in the community; or should we look for new ventures that can breathe new life into our community and our church?

That's why we needed to pray this morning. We need to know what God is calling us to do and be in 2011, because only when we are in God's will for us will we begin to see the growth in discipleship and in numbers that we desire. So we took time to listen to God: we worshipped together and thanked God for God's goodness to us in so many ways; we reflected on 2 Chronicles 7:14-15; we prayed together and individually, asking God to show us the way forward.

I'd like to say that there was a blinding revelation that left us all stunned and certain of God's path, but we're British and we're Methodists, and that kind of thing doesn't often happen with us (maybe that's a failing in us, I don't know). What I will say is that there was a deep sense of calm and peace as we prayed, despite some being a little uncomfortable with that kind of activity. God was definitely there with us, and I'm certain was fulfilling his word to us: "Now my eyes will be open and my ears attentive to the prayers offered in this place." [2Chr 7:15]. We continue, I hope, to pray, and to listen for God's voice speaking to us, for I'm sure God has much more to say to us, and much more to give us.