A fold away funfair

On the busy A14 road, north of Cambridge, we found ourselves behind an unusual looking vehicle travelling fairly sedatedly. It was obviously a large piece of fairground equipment that had been inventively folded up between shutters. Brightly painted panels with intricate decorative strips peeped through, and nestling between them rows of coloured lights. Overtaking the vehicle I had hoped I might discover what sort of piece of fairground equipment it was. But packed away so tightly, it held its mystery. 

Disconnected from a generator it looked dead and inert. It took some imagination to visualize how it would appear on a dark Winter night. Bright lights, moving parts, and music creating wonder.  The first time I was taken to a fun fair is etched on my memory. I was six or seven and my father told me I had been suffering from flu, spending several days in bed. On recovering my father took me down to the market square in the centre of the village of Faringdon. Perhaps I had seen a picture of a fun fair but nothing could prepare me for the sheer rush of exciting immersion into this world of music, colour, and movement. My father put me astride a golden horse. As the carousel began to rotate and the horse rose and fell my father, reminiscing as an old man (which I now know all about), told me that I had a seraphic smile on my face, utterly transported into joy.  I can believe it.   

This fold-up piece of magic on the A14 vividly illustrates how this period of Advent is experienced by far too many people in our secular society. Christmas itself with all the trimmings - lights, decorations, tree, music, presents, food is an extravaganza opened up for celebration. For us, currently it is shut away in drab plastic boxes in the garage, to light up and delight in a few days time. Yet, soon it is over and packed away. A passing highlight.  The God truth of Advent and Christmas could not be more different. Of course it is spectacular that God should intervene in history in the flesh of a baby. There's so much to celebrate but it is not to be packed away as a seasonal moment. This is intervention for all time. The baby grows to become Saviour in the real world, our world. 

I am preaching again (it's rare nowadays) immediately after Christmas on so-called Low Sunday. I am drawn to finish the Christmas story in Matthew's gospel (Matthew 2:13-23).  I always believe in sharing good news and these verses are quite startling about what happens next to Jesus. Where's the good news? Well, I'm working on it. I'll let you know! 

A brilliant Thanksgiving to all our friends

I have just seen photos of my New York State family manhandling a massive turkey with evidence of all the trimmings in preparation and happy smiles all round. Today, Carol and I have been aware of our many US friends celebrating with family and friends at this special festival. I looked back to my first post about this day 17 years ago. I wrote as an amazed spectator/participant: 

I still find the turkey extravaganza of Thanksgiving Day an extraordinary occasion. Families make superhuman efforts to be with each other – far more so than at Christmas. And, with great generosity they invite others. Would you believe it, four different sets of people called us in the previous week to invite us to share in their Thanksgiving meal? Without the incentive (and turmoil) of exchanging presents, people come together gladly in order to give thanks. Thanks for the nation’s beginnings, thanks for continuing family life, thanks for friends, for great food, (with recipes handed down from generation to generation!) Thanks! Just thanks!

Of course, on the next day, so-called Black Friday, when retailers hope to go into the black, the stores are full from 5.00 am and consumer madness reignites in blazing mass-buying until Christmas. But, like an oasis in the middle, Thanksgiving Day brings people together for the high purpose of thanksgiving. This year we enjoyed our US family being with us, around the turkey. It’s been wonderful.

Thanks has always been the springboard to generous living, to appreciation of life and (best of all) to praise of God. Begin thanking and other good things keep happening. I call it the power of positive thanking. Even in a prison cell (Col. 3:17)! We need this oasis somewhere in every day.

I confess our thanksgiving meal today was low-key, during our weekly main shop at Tesco. Carol's egg and chips were OK but my breakfast is best left uncritiqued. We looked across our plates and wished each other a happy thanksgiving, pausing with some of the thanks that need to be expressed over the last 12 months. And there are many.  Hope you have many too! A brilliant Thanksgiving to all our friends. 

 

17 years, 1297 posts later

I know - yet another anniversary/ Yes, it's a sign of ageing - marking out the passing years but I must mark it's 17 years since 18/19 November 2007 when I began writing this blog. My son, Rob, urged me to jump onto this relatively new social media platform back then. With hesitation and nervousness, I doubted anything I wrote would genuinely interest other people. 

Of course, my life back then in the US was action-packed. My first post crammed three different events into in a few lines. I had been to a fascinating science lecture at Fermilab - a large research facility nearby. I recounted how the lecturer breathlessly tackled the subject of missing mass and energy in the universe How little we know - about 5% apparently. I made a Christian comment (that frequently happens!) before marvelling at our grandchild (18 months old). And I also managed in this first post to describe my visit  to Christ Community Church in the centre of Zion - a Christian community founded by a visionary preacher John Alexander Dowie who sought to shape whole town living out Kingdom of God principles. How extraordinary.to be in his study and see the fruit of his labours.

I managed 15 posts in the few weeks left in 2007. Such was my keenness and my level of interaction with church, students, and life around that words flowed. It seemed easy to post something mildly interesting. Now, 17 years later, to state the obvious, so much less happens in my life. In my eightieth year the sparseness and thinness of irregular posts is starkly evident.

I have no way of checking the accuracy of google data that accompanies my blog. Frankly I find it unlikely yet it's on the record. Over 17 years there have been 1297 posts; in the last 3 months 4.550 hits; last 12 months 62,000 hits. Leading countries are, in order of hits: Hong Kong, US, Singapore, UK, Canada, India, Germany, China.  A world map with shaded areas shows the spread of these hits.  How surprising is this. I guess my books which were translated in Cantonese and printed separately in India have something to do with this spread.

But it's barely credible. I am stunned and grateful. Some of you have doggedly held on. Thank you dear faithful readers. Thank you to everyone who has ever troubled to give me a hit! Maybe I ought to keep going a bit longer. 

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60 years on lunch

That was what it was called - 60 years on lunch. It happened yesterday when students who matriculated (began) life at Jesus College, Cambridge in 1964 were invited back to celebrate. In anticipation we were sent a dress code (no gowns required) plus a list of attendees. I wondered how many of us in hovering in our early eighties would assemble to hobble up the massive flight of stairs to the upper hall. The list had 25 names plus many spouses. Carol's name was down but her declining health meant a late sad apology.

I know I have posted before about meeting old college friends. This was the best occasion of them all. Why? Partly because we were so happy to recognize one another and reminisce. Genuinely delighted. Several remembered me primarily as an artist (!) with memories exaggerated by passing years. True, my easel and oil painting dominated my room and my exhibiting and even selling paintings were part of youthful chutzpah. I read geography, specializing in geomorphology, and the two fellow geography students independently commented that I was probably more into art than geography. One of them was a double blue playing against Oxford in cricket and football so sport loomed large in his life.  But as we shared stories and caught up with careers etc. there was a liberating positivity. It was joyful.

Partly because the food was splendid. Apparently there's a new chef, and over 2 and half hours we were feted with tasty, substantial courses which even I appreciated.  I say 'even I' because my usual diet closely follows Carol's necessary dairy free simple tastes. This was anything but simple. At the end the Master, Ms. Sonita Alleyne - the first black woman appointed Master to a Cambridge college (and yes Master is the correct address) - began with heartfelt gratitude for the meal. 'What a really great meal!' she said with such genuine enthusiasm.  From the heart. We all agreed!

And that was the third important reason. She urged us to reflect on the wonder of being alive and together, beginning with a description of the world in 1964 and in all the changes since over these intervening years we could meet with a collegiality, forged by those years in community and of such quality it still held value 60 years on. It was a secular message but it had immense spiritual resonance. Yes, I needed to say 'Thank you Lord for all this early life experience with these friends. Help me be positive and grateful as I look back and see your hand guiding all the way along'.

Compound Interest

This week we were joyfully surprised by a train visit from our London family - three of them because the older two grandsons are involved in PhD work and Uni. Our thirteen year old was therefore widely open as his grandfather pursued conversation. I reveled in this and I think he didn't mind too much (though he is very polite and thoughtful).  

Much talk revolved around his life at school.  He showed me his smart phone with the school app which keeps in  hourly contact with him. To my mind, absurd expectations from teachers are constantly demanded.  One section of the app 'Teams' involves direct links with teachers whose relationship not only involves setting mounds of work and marking results but sharing conversation if required. What was daunting was the mountain of material facing him this half term.  On the train he had been immersed in preparation for a physics test immediately on his return and several other subjects demand heavy attention.  However his food technology course has provided tasty outcomes for his family with his latest task making pizza and formulating his own pizza recipe. 

He was passionate about how AI was changing so much and, in his opinion for the worse. 'One day I reckon all teaching will be done by AI with one human monitoring results behind the scene'.

Late afternoon he volunteered to get the Chinese meal with me from the take-away.  I had given him a little money (I call it a holiday Beano fund) and I chatted about whether he had spent any in Cambridge in the afternoon. I hoped he had treated himself to something. He then solemnly told me about his approach to spending: 'When I'm in the shops', he said,' I do see things that I really like. Really like. And then I think do I really want them enough to buy them. No. It's important to realize that if you are careful and save, compound interest can add up.  It may seem small but over time it can add up.'

I congratulated him. ' I have a very wise grandson' I replied.  It's so good to talk to the next, next generation!

Gym learnings

When I was preaching regularly in the US my gym visits occasionally emerged in sermons. (How surprising say those who know me well!) 

Of course there is the obvious link between running the race of Christian discipleship with the disciplines needed. The apostle Paul makes much of this in 1 Cor. 9:24-27 - 'Therefore as a man I do not run aimlessly' v26. One memorable day I learned, with much embarrassment, how I was exercising aimlessly. I enjoyed (sort of) using the lateral weights equipment. Sitting on a bench with the weights above my head, I had to insert the holding pin to calibrate the weight load I was going to pull. I began pulling down 50 pounds in a suggested pattern of  three sequences of 12 lateral pulls. The first 12 was a doddle but with repetition muscles began protesting. Over the years I gradually built up the number of pounds, keeping a little notebook as a record (which I gather is a rather masculine trait). As I built up to 120 pounds I confess a certain measure of pride.  

Until a fitness trainer came by. Gently, because he was explaining to a paying customer whom he didn't want to correct (much) he said that my posture was hopeless as was my breathing and most importantly I was failing to pull down the weights far enough and slowly enough. 'I'm afraid it's not doing you much good' he said. Good grief. Proud snatching notched up success in my notebook but it totally lost its effectiveness. It wasn't too difficult in a sermon application to relate this to patterns of daily devotion that are too often snatched in routines that fail to give weight and wonder to the practice of talking and listening to the heavenly Father, who sees us in secret (Matt 6.6). Yes, it challenged my prayer habits.

Something else happened on the lateral weights machine too. Several machines were lined up alongside each other. Chosen weights could go up really high. I remember an empty machine next to me had a 250 plus setting from some previous muscle bound user.  Phew!  While I plonked weights up and down two teenage girls came by chatting away, chewing gum and, truth be told, not looking too athletic. One girl sat at this machine, so engrossed in talking to her friend that she didn't appear to check the high setting. Certainly she didn't change it. I looked on with concern which turned to wonderment. Effortlessly, still talking and chewing she began lifting this huge weight up and down.  And yes, you know the application.  Who are we ever to judge another? (Matt 7:1) . 

One of you wrote to me with details of his twice-a-week online training programme. In honesty, I wonder about my next steps!

I lasted 23 years!

Forgive me adding another personal note to these oddly varied postings but this week has proved significant in my life. It's not a large milestone but it's something.

Way back in 2001 at my first annual medical checkup in the USA my doctor warned that one of my blood stats revealed a disturbing lack of fitness. 'What exercise do you do?', he asked. I couldn't  escape this direct question.  'Very little' I replied. Living on campus both in London, and for my new job in Chicago meant a very few steps between work and home. Sedentary was a polite description. And, of course, in the US the car was necessary at all other times.

This honesty led to my doctor's diktat that to avoid imminent diabetes, stroke, heart attack etc. I should join a gym immediately. Joining a gym was an utterly alien thought.  But it so happened that a local gym was advertising an open week with reduced joining fees. Was that a sign? Carol, my long-suffering life-long partner agreed to join me in an exploratory visit.  A breezy overview was almost attractive. I saw a few people my age and shape who seemed to be breathing normally. 

In my public ministry I had strongly advocated the Christian challenge to steward our health - body, mind and spirit - in order to be the best we could be for the Lord.  I recall speaking to a Pastor's Stream at Spring Harvest about the need to discipline body, mind and spirit. (I confess that afterwards Carol called me out for being more than slightly hypocritical!)  

So when we signed up for our initiation session I responded responsibly as an energetic fitness trainer introduced us to basic machines and outlined the kind of programme we could safely follow. Thus began a routine that, at different gyms following each house move, has been a regular feature of weekly life. But this October 17th marks the end of 23 years  My annual subscription expires and the reality has hit me that my attendance record this past year has been appalling. I can justifiably claim that my inability to walk more than a few steps these last months plus my general ageing malaise have contributed to my absences.  

However, the truth is that my fitness ambitions have shriveled.  Hopefully I shall keep active in other more modest ways but it really does feel like the end of an era.  Even as I write this I know I am on a slippery slope. Undoubtedly my hard currency subscription disciplined me.  Will I be able to summons up discipline in the new era? I wonder.