james’ blog

James’s Blog: “Peace Be With You.”

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James’s Blog: “Peace Be With You.”

(Once again our church sent out some daily reflections over the Easter period.  Below is the short piece that I wrote for Easter Sunday.)

While they were still talking about this, Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.”

Luke 24:36

Sometimes I just don’t get Jesus. I mean, there the disciples are, having a conversation (and they were hidden away, so it was a private conversation), when all of a sudden Jesus appears and says, “Peace be with you.” I mean, I was always taught that it was rude to interrupt, but Jesus doesn’t seem to care. He intrudes and cuts them off in the middle of their discussion to offer them something that they hadn’t even asked for, like one of those annoying cold calls in the middle of dinner.

If Jesus really wanted to help, surely he would have gone out and about in Jerusalem and made sure that everyone saw him. Maybe he could have walked up to Herod’s palace, or Pilate’s residence, and knocked on the door with his nail-pieced hand and given them a telling-off. Then everyone would know that the disciples were right, and they wouldn’t have to hide any more, and everyone would want to listen to what they had to say.

Instead, he arrives when they are least expecting it, and gives them – of all things – peace. Peace is all right, I suppose, but what good is peace when everyone thinks you’re a heretic and wants you arrested? What good is peace when your whole world has been turned upside down, and you’re about to undertake the most incredible and demanding adventure you’ve ever known? And when Peter and the other disciples stood there, in the future years, awaiting their own violent deaths because they had followed Jesus, do you think that they stood there and said, “Thank goodness that at least I have peace.”?

I mean, is that the best thing that you can think of? The thing that you would want? For Jesus to intrude unexpectedly in the middle of your doubts and questions and struggles and say, “My peace I give to you. I do not give as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled.”? Is that really what the resurrection story is about? Is that really what we’re supposed to do with Easter during the rest of the year?

Yes. Yes, it is. “In this world you will have trouble,” said Jesus, “but take heart, for I have overcome the world.” Because of Easter, Jesus is able to interrupt any struggle, any difficulty, any challenge and bring peace. You might prefer him to take away your problems, but he never promised that. Instead, he brings something better. Peace in the midst of problems. We need Jesus to intrude and offer us this peace, because there’s nowhere else that it can be found.

James’s Blog: Upside Down Food.

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James’s Blog: Upside Down Food.

Today we remember the Passover that Jesus shared with his friends before his death; that moment when Jesus took physical, created things and imbued them with a clearly defined spiritual significance. Whatever you call it, Communion, the Eucharist, the Lord’s Supper, it has its roots in the bread and wine of this final meal.

Across the world and across history, the Church has regularly remembered this moment, born in the anguish of the Last Supper. It’s ironic that while we devote so much of our efforts to fleeing from suffering, we repeatedly return to this bittersweet moment because we know that it is here that God places something special into His creation.

When I did my Master’s degree, I wrote my dissertation on suffering, because I thought that if I was going to have to write a dissertation, it should be on a topic that was going to be useful for pastoral ministry. Suffering seemed like a pretty obvious subject to look at. One of the things that I’ve learnt is that, like Communion, suffering only makes sense through the eyes of faith. Without faith, the bread and wine is just food and drink. Without faith, the cross is just a scene of injustice. Without faith, suffering is pointless. With faith, however, the bread and wine become heralds of a perfect future. With faith, the cross becomes the ultimate victory. With faith, suffering becomes a place where God meets us and does His work.

This is Easter! It’s the moment when God took the worst that the Enemy could throw at Him and turned it on its head. It’s the moment when suffering becomes the vehicle of salvation. And Easter is every moment in your life when you look at suffering through the eyes of faith.

James’s Blog: The Music of Easter.

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James’s Blog: The Music of Easter.

We had nice weather last Friday. It was somewhat glorious, to be able to collect the children from school without needing to wear a coat. Spring is at hand, despite the best efforts of the weather system known as The Beast from the East, who has been trying to prolong winter. Winter, I think, is always trying to hold back spring. It won’t work though. You can’t stop the changing seasons.

Easter is also at hand. If you listen, you can already hear the Palm Sunday crowd, its praises echoing forward through time. The Pharisees tried to stop it, their own little Beast from the East tantrum, but that didn’t work either. It’s no wonder that we can hear it all, two thousand years later. Jesus himself said that if the crowd didn’t get it out of their system then the stones themselves would have to take up the song; it’s just that powerful.

Later that week, there was more music, though it was more muted. After their last meal together, Jesus and his friends sing a song before heading towards the garden. A glimpse of spring on the darkest night of the year. Winter tries its luck again: “The one I kiss, he’s the one that you want.”

And it seems to work. The friends scatter. Jesus is tried by a kangaroo court and nailed up to die.

But you can’t hold back the changing seasons, and you can’t hold back the magic of Easter song. Even in the darkness of Gethsemene night; the darkness of that Friday eclipse; the darkness of the tomb, we know what’s coming.

The ice is thawing, the green shoots are peaking through. For us, spring will turn into summer and summer into autumn and autumn back into winter, but as far as Easter is concerned, winter is behind us and always will be.

James’s Blog: Another Lost Argument.

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James’s Blog: Another Lost Argument.

“Why don’t you do something, God?”

“Like what?”

“Well, I don’t know. Something. Anything!”

“What’s the matter?”

“There’s someone who really needs to know that you love them, God. Someone who really needs your help.”

“What should I do, then?”

“Well, something that makes them feel loved.”

“Like what?”

“Well-”

“Should I give them a hug, perhaps? Write them a note telling them that I’m thinking of them? Give them a gift?”

“I suppose-”

“Sometimes all it takes is a smile, you know. Someone smiling at you can make a lot of difference. Should I smile at them, James?”

“I-”

“Because I do. You know that, right? You know that. How about a kind word? That can work wonders. A timely dose of kindness to a wounded soul can turn a broken man into a saint, can’t it? Or have you forgotten that whole pear thing?”

“No, but-”

“Every day I whisper love to people’s hearts. Sometimes I shout. But people aren’t always listening. There are always so many other things they’d rather listen to. And I made a decision a long time ago, a decision to delegate. Delegation is an act of trust, which is an act of love, you see.”

“I know-”

“And I could, I could reach out my arms and take the whole world into a hug, and draw it near to my beating heart and drown out everything else with my love, I could, and one day I will, but for now I have no arms and I have no smile. I gave those things away, James. I gave those things away a long time ago. Do you know who I gave them to, James? Do you?”

“I think-”

“That’s right. I gave them to you, and your brothers and sisters. I didn’t just give you peace and forgiveness and hope, I gave you responsibility. I gave you my arms and my feet and my smile and I said, ‘Here you go. You’re in charge of these now. Use them wisely.’ I delegated.”

“All right, I-”

“I am at work, James. I’m always speaking, always reminding a stubborn world that I’m here. But I’ve got an idea, James, about this person who needs to know my love. Do you want to hear my idea?”

“…”

“Do you, James?”

“Yes, God.”

“Well then, here it is. Are you ready?”

“Yes, God.”

“Why don’t you do something?”

James’s Blog: Love is Not Fair.

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James’s Blog: Love is Not Fair.

Soon I’m going to have to book a family trip to the dentist. Last time Parker refused to have his teeth checked. We’d let him know about the visit well in advance, and he seemed fine on the day itself, so we were caught off-guard by his spirited rejection of the dentist  – the irony being that he is probably the child who needs a dental check-up the most. To the dentist’s credit, he was reluctant to push the issue lest Parker end up traumatised. As for me, well, I was ready to kneel on his chest and prise his mouth open with my bare hands by the end of the visit. Don’t worry – I didn’t get that far.

It didn’t end there. After we left the dentist Parker had another full-blown tantrum, this time accusing Ruth and I of not letting him go to the dentist, and blaming us for the fact that all his teeth were going to rot and fall out. You’ve got to laugh, haven’t you. Haven’t you? HAVEN’T YOU???!!!

This time I’ve offered him Lego if he has his teeth checked, and that might do the trick. To his brothers and sisters it looks like he’s being rewarded for performing simple tasks, but there you go. I’m sure that they know that life is not fair. I’ve been very careful to make that clear to them on several occasions.

It is hard for them. I do wonder if, through their eyes, autism looks like fun. You get praised for run-of-the-mill behaviour, and don’t get punished nearly as much as it seems you should. But if they understood autism they wouldn’t wish to be in Parker’s shoes. Free Lego doesn’t seem like much of a trade-off when you think about all the extra complications he’s going to have to negotiate in order to form meaningful adult relationships or perform to the best of his ability in everyday situations.

I hope that my children realise something important – that loving everybody the same means loving everybody differently.

Love, by its nature (and I’m talking about proper, getting-your-hands-dirty, self-denying love here) means doing what is right for each individual according to his or her needs, strengths and weaknesses. Love is personalised. Life isn’t the only thing that’s not fair, because if love was fair it wouldn’t be love. One size most definitely does not fit all.

Some people, by the time that they get to my age, have been beaten around the head by life so badly that it’s left some pretty deep scars. I know that what God expects of them is different to what He expects of me. I know that sometimes He’s a bit harder on me than He would be on others, but equally I know that there are things He lets me get away with. However, I wouldn’t for one second suggest anything other than that God loves us all with the same burning, self-sacrificial, personalised passion.

Fairness is all right for robots and pets, but children deserve something better.

James’s Blog: As One With Authority.

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James’s Blog: As One With Authority.

“When Jesus had finished saying these things, the crowd were amazed at his teaching, because he taught as one who had authority, and not as their teachers of the law.”

Matthew 7:29

 

In Jesus’ time, appealing to someone else’s authority was a key tool of the religious teacher. A rabbi would thread quote after quote from well-regarded predecessors to give his words weight. For whatever reason this didn’t resonate with the crowd, but Jesus – one who never appealed to religious tradition – had them spellbound. He, they said, had an authority that other teachers didn’t.

Modern preachers and teachers rely on the authority of the Bible, but there must also be a personal authority to the words that we bring, otherwise there’s no point. I’m sure we’ve all sat through sermons where the Bible said all that needed to be said, and the preacher should have just sat down after the reading. The messenger must bring something to the encounter, or go home.

Some preachers misunderstand what the authority of the Bible is, and treat it like an academic journal to be quoted from. They fill their sermons with verse after verse, like footnotes in an essay, and their own words serve no purpose other than to connect a string of unrelated texts. You’ll know you’ve heard a sermon like that, because despite being full of Biblical references, it sounds like theoretical musings rather than something heavy with life and power. Remember that the piling up of quotes to support a position was how the teachers of the law did their business. People can tell that there is no real authority in such words.

Instead, every single sound from your mouth should be pulsing with the vitality of the Bible, by virtue of being a message that’s consistent with the beating heart of God’s word. When you do this, then your teaching will be thoroughly Biblical without even needing to quote chapter and verse.

When I was on the other side of the world and would sit and listen to people like Laurie and Pete and Paul (and the rest) talk about sharing Jesus’ message, their words had authority. This was because they were talking about things that they knew – not things that they just knew about (though they did), but things that they knew. They shared from the overflow of their own experience, and that gave their words the authority that cannot come from heavily leaning on someone else’s knowledge.

When Jesus taught about the Kingdom of God, he was talking about something that he knew, something that he had experienced. When he spoke about God and the divine vision for creation, Jesus was sharing from his own life. His words had authority not because he knew a lot about God, but because he knew the Father. No mental gymnastics were required. Likewise, if we want to teach as one who has authority, we too must know what we’re teaching about.

James’s Blog: Outsmarted.

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James’s Blog: Outsmarted.

“Dad, I’ve just realised something,” said Imogen.

She’d been thinking, you see.  It was her mother that put her up to it.  Imogen had informed me that Ruth had told her that I wasn’t very good at making beds.  It’s a fair cop, guv.  But that earth-shattering revelation had caught her imagination.

“What have you realised?” I asked, as though I was interested.

“Mum’s good at the stuff that you’re bad at, and you’re good at the stuff she’s bad at.”

“Well,” I said, “that’s how marriage is supposed to work.”

I sensed an opportunity to turn the tables on my wife.

“Out of interest,” I went on, “what is it that mum’s bad at that I’m good at?”

Imogen thought for a second, but only for a second.

“Being the best dad in the world,” she said.

Smooth.  She managed to palm me off while protecting Ruth’s infallibility.  Not bad for a five-year old.  I felt quite proud of her, outsmarting her old man.

It makes me think of Abraham and Moses, the flawed saints, taking God to task for His behaviour.  The passages where they argue with God would be controversial and tricky enough if it weren’t for the fact that they also appear to win.  We can get ourselves into all sorts of theological tangles over those passages, at least until we realise that He – being God and all – doesn’t need to justify Himself to us, and we should just let Him get on with being God.  He’s good at it.

The point is, I believe that He must have felt a sense of fatherly pride as his children went toe-to-toe with Him because they believed in people.

Over the years it’s been normal for my three boys to team up to try and take me down, but I’ve always been stronger and more cunning.  However, as I watch them fill out and creep up, I know my days are numbered.  Indeed, I suspect that when I’m in my dotage, I’m going to spend a lot of time being tipped out of my wheelchair.

I also think of Jacob, wrestling God to a standstill and extracting a blessing for his troubles.  As Jacob limped away from the scene of the battle I like to think of God in heaven, nudging the angels.

“Did you see my boy go?  Did you see him?  What a fighter!”

Sometimes God tests us purely to give us a chance to make Him proud.  I think that’s a healthy way to view things – those test are not occasions to let God down, but rather occasions to bring a smile to His face.

James’s Blog: The Stone & The Seed.

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James’s Blog: The Stone & The Seed.

(I had an idea, which became this little poem.  If I was an illustrator of any talent I would probably turn it into a children’s picture book.)

 

The paving stone,

set hard and set proud,

said, “I can’t be moved

from my home in the ground.”

 

“Beneath me the earth,

I crush all the life,

no root can take hold

with no hope and no light.”

 

But a small, humble seed

a challenge did make:

“Heavy you may be,

but you’ve made a mistake.”

 

The stone laughed out loud

at the tiny thing’s cheek,

“You can’t lift me up!

You’re too small and too weak!”

 

“It may take some time,”

the seed did reply,

“but I’m not stuck here,

for my goal is the sky!”

 

The years went on by

while the seed sought a gap,

the stone did not know

of the tiny thing’s trap.

 

And go visit now,

this is what you will see,

a humbled, broke stone

that’s been split by a tree.

James’s Blog: Based on a True Story.

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James’s Blog: Based on a True Story.

“Good morning sports fans, I’m Rex Steele…”

“…and I’m Chuck Chuckerson!”

“…and welcome to today’s event in the Parent Olympics! Who’s competing today, Chuck?”

“Well, Rex, today we have James from Canterbury! He’s a writer and stay-at-home dad with five children, though he’s only got a couple of years experience in today’s event. Remind the viewers at home what today’s event is, Rex!”

“Today’s event is the Post-School-Run Restoration, Chuck! The event begins when the parent returns from dropping his children off at school, and tidies up all the mess that has been made in the previous hour!”

“Sounds exciting, Rex! Now, am I right in thinking that James has already got the post-breakfast kitchen under control, so he’s going to concentrate on the upstairs?”

“That’s correct, Chuck! James has only been doing this event for the past couple of years, so he’s still something of a rookie, but I was talking to him yesterday and reminded him that he has potentially another thirteen years of this event ahead of him, and that he should be an expert by the end of his career!”

“I expect he found that encouraging, Rex!”

“He sure did, Chuck! You can see that the bruising around my eye looks a lot better today!”

“Ha ha! Good times! WHOA, I’m going to cut you off there, Rex! James has just arrived home from the school run, and we’re off!”

“He’s straight upstairs, and it looks like he’s heading for the bathroom! A good place to start, Chuck?”

“Good enough, Rex…And he’s stepped on a soaking wet flannel that’s been left in the middle of the floor! AMAZING! Can we get a slow mo replay, on that Rex?”

“No we can’t, Chuck! And WHAT A PRO! He’s picked up the flannel and placed it by the sink! Now, what is that in the sink, Chuck? Some kind of exploded insect?”

“No, Rex, that’s TOOTHPASTE!”

“And on the mirror and walls?”

“That’s toothpaste too!”

“WOW! Those children sure cover all their bases! And what’s James doing now, Chuck? Talk us through it!”

“Well, Rex, it looks like he’s using the children’s flannel to WIPE UP the toothpaste!”

“The flannel he just found on the floor? The one that they use to wipe their FACES?”

“That’s right, Rex!”

“Ha ha, FANTASTIC, Chuck! He’s really using his initiative there!”

“Now he’s on to the bedrooms…wait, hang on. He’s just noticed something, Rex!”

“Look at that, Chuck! The toilet roll holder is empty, I repeat, the toilet roll holder is EMPTY! Man down! MAN DOWN!”

“Thankfully, there’s a fresh roll right there on top of the toilet. It won’t take James long to change it, but one wonders why the child who used the last of the roll didn’t change it afterwards!”

“Not really, Chuck. It’s a well known fact that children believe that changing the toilet roll causes their eyeballs to EXPLODE!”

“Job done, Rex, and James is on to the bedrooms…WHOA! Did you see that! He just ignored the bedroom belong to the teenage boys and moved straight to the bedroom of the younger kids!”

“That’s right, Chuck. That’s his experience kicking in – he knows that there are some battles not worth fighting.”

“And he’s in the bedroom now and…LOOK AT THAT! What is all that stuff? I see Lego, Playmobil and Thomas the Tank Engine toys everywhere, Rex! EVERYWHERE!”

“That’s right – and don’t forget the Shopkins and Barbies, Chuck!”

“Wasn’t this room completely tidy when they went to bed the night before? Those are some seriously dedicated children, to have managed to get out so many toys in such a short space of time!”

“And he’s moving toys round, he’s tidying up, he’s…he’s dancing around the room? What’s he doing, Chuck? He’s got no time for this!”

“He just stood on some Lego, Rex!”

“Ah, OUCH…and now he’s on to the beds. Is that…yes…I can see that one of the beds has not been made! One of the beds has NOT BEEN MADE!”

“And that’s despite the child involved being told a MILLION times to make his bed, right, Rex?”

“That’s right, Chuck, but science has proved that the louder and more often you tell a child something, the less they hear!”

“How does that work, Rex?”

“I don’t know, Chuck, but it does! It’s science!”

“Now James is moving away from the beds…he’s not made the bed, Rex, he’s NOT made the bed!”

“Uhhh, no, I think you’ll find that he has, Chuck!”

“Ah. Bed making is clearly not his strong suit, then!”

“It looks like it, Chuck! Now he’s almost home free but…what’s that! My WORD! Have you ever seen anything like that, Chuck?”

“James has seen it, Rex, he’s seen it! It’s some pyjama bottoms HANGING from a bookcase! Look at his face, Rex! Look at it!”

“Ah, yes, it’s his signature expression, the ‘What the Dickens…?’!”

“He’s wasting time, Rex! He’s got to keep moving!”

“Yes, he’s got the pyjamas, Chuck, and what’s that? They’re COVERED in food from LAST NIGHT’S MEAL!”

“Straight to the washing basket with them, Rex! This is the last stretch! James is almost in the clear!”

“This is a good run, Chuck! He’s not had to deal with some of the more time-consuming challenges like Furniture That Has Been Mysteriously Moved!”

“Or Who’s Been Fiddling With The Thermostat, Rex!”

“Yes, he’s at the washing basket, and he’s putting the pyjamas in! This is going to be a good time…BUT WAIT! What’s that? Why’s he hesitating, Chuck?”

“Has he? Yes, he has! He’s seen some WHITE washing in the DARK washing basket! What a nail biting finish!”

“Yes, he’s pulling out the offending item, Chuck! And I can confirm that it’s some dirty underwear! I repeat, there is DIRTY WHITE UNDERWEAR in the dark washing! MY GOODNESS, Chuck! What a last minute twist!”

“And…he’s put the dirty underwear in the right basket, Rex! STOP THE CLOCK!”

“And that’s it! James has finished! What’s the time, Chuck?”

“Oh, it’s good, but it’s not his best, Rex! And look, you can see the disappointment on his face! It might have been a different story without the errant pyjamas and the careless underpants!”

“Never mind, Chuck, he’ll have another chance tomorrow, when he has to do it all over again!”

“That’s right, Rex! And don’t forget to tune in later for more exciting events from the Parent Olympics!”

“This is Rex Steele, signing off!”

“And this is Chuck Chuckerson, saying, have a fine day, sports fans!”

James’s Blog: Anyone for Seconds?

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James’s Blog: Anyone for Seconds?

Daisy wiped the tear from her cheek with a perfect white handkerchief.

“I know you all understand my struggle. It’s just so…so hard,” she said. “Oh, that sounds silly. To say it’s ‘hard’. I just don’t know any other word.”

“It’s a perfectly good word,” said Thomas, reaching out and patting her on the shoulder.

“And it’s perfectly accurate,” said Maureen, her lips stretched in a thin line. Daisy nodded glumly.

Maureen continued. “That’s why we’re here. To support and help one another. We all understand. We ‘re all in the same boat here at the Over Eighteens.”

The Over Eighteens had been meeting weekly at Thomas’s house for the past year. There were seven of them. Daisy, Maureen and, of course, Thomas were the founding members. Billy (no-one called him William) and his wife Trish joined soon after, shortly followed by George. Jayne (yes, that was how she spelled it) was new to the group. This was her first meeting.

Every Thursday morning they gathered around the coffee table in Thomas’s lounge, squeezed on sofas (and chairs brought in from the dining room) and encouraged one another. That was the purpose of the group, to share and encourage, and to share and encourage in one particular struggle. The name Over Eighteens referred not to age, but to weight. The only thing in the group that could be called thin was Maureen’s lips. Everyone bore the same burden, of struggling with their size.

Thomas glanced at his watch.

“I think that’s enough for today.” He looked over at Jayne. “It’s been excellent to have you here this morning, Jayne. We always finish with a…well, I guess you could call it a creed of sorts. We say it together, you know, to make us all feel like we’re united in this.”

Jayne nodded nervously.

“Just listen, and you’ll pick it up soon enough,” Thomas said, nodding at the rest of the group.

“We agree that we’re overweight,” the group said, in unison. “But we don’t want to be. We’d like to be thin. In the meantime, we will support each other, listen to each other’s struggles without judgement, encourage each other and look forward to the day when we are all our perfect weight.”

Silence settled on the thoughtful group.

“Now,” said Thomas, clapping his hands together, “who wants a cup of tea?”

There was a chorus of responses as Thomas stood up and moved through to the kitchen.

“You should come over for dinner sometime, love,” said Trish, smiling at Jayne.

“That would be nice, “ said Jayne, smiling back.

“Cor, yes, I love it when we have guests,” said Billy. “Trish always goes to town with the deserts!”

“I’m surprised you have any room left for desert,” interjected George. “After all, I saw how much you put away at the All You Can Eat Pizza Buffet yesterday!”

“You can talk!” said Billy, laughing.

Thomas returned from kitchen.

“Kettle’s on,” he said, placing a huge, heavy plate on the coffee table. On the plate was the biggest chocolate cake that Jayne had ever seen. “Who wants a slice?”

Hands shot up around the room. Jayne kept her hand down.

“Ummmmm,” she said, as though she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how to begin.

“Go on,” said Maureen, smiling with those thin lips. “Have some. Thomas is a fantastic baker.”

“I’m sure he is, but…” Jayne stopped.

“But what?” said Daisy.

“Well, shouldn’t we…well, I’m trying to diet.” Jayne bowed her head, as though she’d confessed to some awful crime.

“Oh, of course you are,” said George. “We’re all trying to diet, aren’t we?”

Ernest nods and grunts of agreement.

“The thing is,” said Daisy. Jayne looked up to see her wiping a thick smear of chocolate icing from her cheek with that no-longer perfect white handkerchief. “The thing is, that it’s difficult, isn’t it?”

More nods and grunts.

“After all, that’s why we’re here. Because it’s hard, as Daisy said earlier,” said Thomas.

“We’re all in favour of diets. That’s what we’re all after – the ultimate goal is losing weight – but it’s not quite that simple, is it?” said Daisy.

“I don’t know what I’d do without this group,” said Trish, through a mouthful of smushed chocolate cake, “to lift my spirits and help me feel better about things.”

“That’s right,” said Thomas, nodding. “That’s absolutely right.”

Jayne looked around at the group, as they grinned at her, encouragingly. She knew that she would feel more encouraged if they didn’t all have chocolate-stained teeth. She made a decision.

“It’s been lovely to meet you all,” Jayne said, standing up. “But I have to go now. The truth is, I think I’m in the wrong group.”

The gathering sat in silence as she left the room. After a short moment they heard the front door slam.

“That’s a shame,” said Thomas. “Now, who’s for seconds?”

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