Talkin' About My Regeneration

I’m a massive Doctor Who fan, as some of you may know.  Not one of those Jonny Come Lately fans who started watching in 2005 and jumped on the popularity bandwagon but a long-term hard core Whovian, having watched since the 1972 Jon Pertwee adventure ‘Day of The Daleks’.  One of the things I love most about the series is the concept of regeneration; of being changed and transformed into somebody new.

I feel that I’ve undergone something of a regeneration myself over the past year since I began my training as a Student Minister in the Methodist Church of Great Britain.  This is, of course, the whole purpose of the ministerial formation process I’m going through and, indeed, part of being a Christian; to be transformed by the power of the Holy Spirit into the likeness of Christ (not that I’m anywhere near that at all, yet).

When I left for College I had lots of advice from different people, mostly along the lines of, “We’ve seen a few people go off to train to be ministers and they’ve changed.  Don’t let them change you!”  Well, sorry, but they have changed me, or rather Christ working through the lives of the tutors and fellow students has changed me.  People I’ve met over the summer on at my home church have said that I’ve changed and changed for the better.

In some ways I’m still the same.  My desire to preach the undiluted word of God fearlessly and without favour has not changed and my desire to win souls for Jesus is still as strong as ever, if not stronger.  What has changed is my approach to life.  My faith has increased incredibly this past year and more and more I view the world with theological eyes; my first response to anything now is to think about what God is saying in this situation or how the scriptures apply here.  I’ve been told I’m a lot calmer, a lot more patient and generally more relaxed.  I’m still me, but a better me, a regenerated me who celebrates all that God has done in my life over the past year but realises that I still have a long way to go!

God doesn’t want to stop us being ourselves, he created us as unique individuals and he loves us just as we are, though he loves us too much to leave us as we are.  He wants to change us and make us liker Christ, but not to be clones of Christ.  He wants me to be the most Christ like Rick I can be and he wants you to be the most Christ like you that you can be!

An Unhappy Birthday and a Prayer Request

Yesterday afternoon I was in Bispham, which for those of you who don’t know is literally next to Blackpool on the North West coast of England; in fact it merges with Blackpool so that the two are not really seen separately anymore.

Anyway, that’s not the point of the story.  I was walking down the street eating a Twister lolly to try and cool down a bit when I saw a drunk staggering towards me.  He was built like the side of a barn and had a can of cider clutched in his hand.  Now I don’t know about you, but when I see what appears to be a belligerent drunk with large muscles weaving his way towards me I get a tad nervous.

The guy came right up to me and grabbed me by the hand and as he did so I noticed that there were tears in his eyes.  He said, in a slightly slurred voice, “It’s my birthday today and I’ve just found out my mum has cervical cancer!”

What do you say in such a situation?  It’s hard enough when you are preparing for a pastoral visit with somebody who has received bad news, but to be suddenly confronted with it from the mouth of a complete stranger is a different matter altogether….

I did the only thing I could.  I said, “I’m so sorry to hear that.  I don’t know if it means anything to you, but I’m a Christian and I’d like to pray for your ,mum if that’s OK.”

His reaction took me totally by surprise.  He wrapped me in a big, slightly too tight, bear hug and thanked me profusely, tears running down his face.  You’d have thought I’d offered him the cure for cancer so grateful did he seem.

The guy, whose name I never got, then went on his way before I had chance for further conversation.  His mum’s name is Gladys.  Please pray for her, for healing and comfort and please pray for the man I met.  The prayer of a believing Christian is one of the most powerful things in the world  and whilst we will never know the results of our prayers for Gladys and her son I believe that it will make a difference in both their lives.

Beef Stew, Rice Pudding & A ‘Happy Days’ Annual

As my regular readers will know I’m on placement at the moment on a Methodist Circuit in North West England.

Today I had a whistle-stop tour with the Superintendent Minister to give me an idea of what a Super’s day can involve.  We started off with the Luncheon Club at one of his churches, which runs every Tuesday and serves a delicious hot two course meal at cost price.  Those dining were a mixture of church members and the local community.  We were treated to beef stew, potatoes, string beans and carrots.  For desert there was creamy rice pudding with home-made jam!  What made it special though wasn’t the food, delicious though it was, but the conversations and warm welcome.  I chatted to several people and they all told me how much they valued the lunch club.  For some of the elderly diners it was the only time they would leave their homes this week.  What a fantastic way for this church to serve their local community and demonstrate Christian love in a very practical way!

There is something spiritual about this too.  Jesus often sat down to eat with people and table fellowship was a very big part of his ministry.  He offered hospitality too, providing wine at a wedding and cooking fish for his disciples on the shores of Galilee.  I think that simple hospitality is important for churches, not just as a way of serving the community but because the sharing of food helps to break down barriers and can lead to new or renewed relationships.

So what about the ‘Happy Days’ Annual?

The second visit of the day was to a Thrift Shop at another church.  The Thrift Shop is a bit like a charity shop, selling donated goods.  It was held in the church hall and was full of people busily sorting through goods when we arrived.  There were clothes, CDs and DVDs, books, toys and other assorted goods.  Amongst the books was the ‘Happy Days’ Annual with a picture of a grinning Fonz on the cover, but I resisted the temptation to buy it and wallow in childhood nostalgia!  The prices are a lot lower than a charity shop and whilst the church does make money from the Thrift Shop and considers it an income stream the primary purpose is service to the community; selling goods at prices people can afford so that they can have decent clothes etc.

A church should be serving its community.  I was uplifted by the service I saw in action today and hope that others are inspired to follow their examples and reach out to their own communities, just as Jesus reached out and served those around him.

Size Really Doesn't Matter

This reflection isn’t about what you might think it is.

When we think about worshipping churches I guess most of us think of churches with a couple of hundred or more people (perhaps even thousands).  We think of churches that use modern worship songs, churches that have worship leaders and bands with guitars and drums.  We think of raised arms, or clapping hands and dancing.  We do not usually think of small chapels with maybe a couple of dozen members singing traditional hymns accompanied by an organ.

This morning I led the last service I will take on my placement Circuit.  The congregation meet in a small memorial chapel that could maybe seat fifty and there were around fifteen people present, the normal Sunday congregation.  They were middle aged and older, a mixture of men and women, white and Afro-Caribbean.  This was a very small traditional Methodist congregation; but it was also quite definitely a worshipping church.

The sincerity of these worshipping Christian people took my breath away from the opening verse of “Immortal Invisible God Only Wise”.  They sang with such enthusiasm and the volume of singing belied the number of people present; it was almost as if some extra angelic voices had come to join us, and maybe they had.  On the faces of the people before me I could see expressions of love and adoration for the one they were worshipping.  It was truly humbling to lead worship and preach to such a congregation.

By most considerations that tiny congregation would not be considered a ‘worshipping church’.  They sing very traditional Methodist hymns accompanied by an organ and do not raise their arms or dance; yet their worship was obviously genuine, sincere and heartfelt.  I felt more edified by joining them in their worship than I have in some of the bigger congregations where the worship seems designed to whip people up into an emotional frenzy rather than to lead to a loving encounter with the living God.

The worship of that small congregation this morning was, for me, deeply meaningful and transformatory and I thank the God we all worship for that faithful worshipping congregation.

Nobody Wanted The Theologians....

My daughter goes on to further education next year and so today we went to have a look around the local Sixth Form College.  I went there 26 years ago but it has changed a lot and I wanted to see what it is like now; and we both wanted to chat to course tutors about the courses she is interested in doing.

We passed different classrooms, or whatever they call them, full of potential students, parents and course tutors talking with enthusiasm about their subjects.  Both the Government & Politics and the Modern History rooms were busy and these are two subjects daughter is considering taking.  Both courses sound really interesting and challenging and daughter left the rooms full of enthusiasm.

On the way to the Music room we can across the Theology room.  They didn’t actually call it theology and I can’t remember what the exact title was, but we went past it.  The room was practically empty.  Just two tutors looking desperate for somebody to go in and see them and a rather well designed display.  Upon seeing me looking into the room one of the tutors more or less leapt into the corridor and asked “Are you interested in theology?”

“Well, I’m very interested” I replied, “I’m a Student Minister.  Unfortunately my daughter isn’t.”

Her face fell and I can understand why.  I got the feeling that we were probably the first people to show even the slightest interest in what they had to offer.  I remember being at my daughter’s school progress evening a few months ago and going to speak to her RE teacher.  Re is a compulsory subject at the school.  We had a good chat and I naturally enthused about the importance of teenagers getting a good grounding in Religious Education.  Sadly I found that my views weren’t shared by the majority of parents. Most hadn’t even bothered to make an appointment to see the RE teacher and some that had told her that it was waste of their child’s time and effort to do RE.

Few wanted the theologians at daughter’s High School then and it seemed that nobody wanted the theologians at the Sixth Form College today.  Richard Dawkins dismissed Theology as a non-subject; since theology literally means the study of God and he doesn’t believe God exists.

Naturally I think that the study of theology is very important indeed.  If God does exist, and I believe with every fibre of my being that he does; if Jesus Christ indeed died on the cross in our place and rose from the dead to give us the assurance of eternal life, and again I believe that he did: then that is the most important truth ever.  What could be more important than the study of the God in whom we live and move and have our being?

The End of The Road?

Yesterday, on my way home from placement, I came across the scene of a serious traffic accident.

I knew that something was wrong because the cars in front of me suddenly slowed down on a normally fast stretch of road.  I soon found myself driving past a scene that is still burned into my mind.  A smashed up red motorbike, several pieces of it strewn across the road; a car with a big dent in the bonnet and a motorcyclist lying in the road with several people gathered around him.  I didn’t stop to help as there seemed to be enough people helping, but I prayed for all involved as I continued on my journey.  I found out today, from the local paper, that the motorcyclist though seriously injured was airlifted to hospital and is likely to survive his horrific ordeal.

One thing I will never forget about that motorcyclist for the rest of my life is the look in his eyes as I drove past.  He was facing towards to opposite side of the road and as I drove past I saw his eyes.  They were filled with pain and fear and I knew that the man was afraid that he was going to die, truly terrified that his life was about to end on that debris covered piece of tarmac.

This lunchtime, in my capacity as a student presbyter, I assisted at the funeral service of a 94 year old lady who’d been a faithful church member all her life; a lady with a strong faith in Jesus Christ and in the promise of eternal life to all who believe in him.  She had known that her end was near and anxious that her Lord would hurry up and take her home so that she could be with him for all eternity.

What a difference, fear and terror on the one hand and calm acceptance and even impatience on the other.  I know that the circumstances are vastly, vastly different but I hope that when my time comes I too will be eager to go to be with my Lord, not filled with fear but with wonder at all that is to come.

Visiting a Mosque

I went to visit a Mosque today as part of my placement.

Upon entering the mosque we had to remove our shoes and socks.  This was because we were to stand upon what Muslims call sacred ground and the custom is based on the story of Moses and the burning bush.

We were then shown into the ablutions area where Muslims must go through a fairly complicated cycle of washing in order to purify themselves for prayer, following the belief that being clean alone gets you halfway to God.  They also believe that this washing brings about forgiveness for small sins.

Following the ablutions area we were taken through into the main prayer area.  There were no chairs but the carpet was marked out in such way that each person has their own space for prayer.  At the front was a set of three step that serves as a pulpit for the Iman; the background being that Mohammed refused to sit on a throne and so the steps were constructed for him to preach from.  There is also an alcoved area under an arch which goes back to the private prayer area Mohammed had behind his Mosque, inspired by a legend of Mary, the mother of Jesus.  Prayer times were posted, as these vary depending on the position of the sun in the sky.

We were told that Muslims like to smell nice when praying and so perfumes are available.  This also means that Muslims are discouraged from smoking and eating strong foods like garlic before praying as bad odours are thought to offend the angels.

It was interesting to discover that Muslims share a number of beliefs with Christians.  We both believe in angels and we both believe in Satan.  We share a concern about sin but differ as to how we are forgiven by God for that sin.  Muslims say that we worship the same God as they do, the same God as the Jews do; the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.  Allah means ‘the God’, as in ‘the only God’.  Muslims believe that God answers prayer and seem to be far more diligent in praying than most Christians.

On our way to refreshments we passed through what could be thought of, I suppose, as the Muslim equivalent of Sunday School.  The children, and there were many of them, were learning Arabic so that they could read the Koran and their dedicated and enthusiasm was infectious.  If only more Sunday School classes were like that.

We finished with refreshments of fresh fruit and fruit juice and left having been warmly welcomed and given new insight into what is the world’s second biggest religion.