Gym buddies

The last few days have been especially demanding as I sent the apostille and faxed (yes, faxed!) notarized documents to the US as required for Carol's estate. Ironical that word - estate - for someone whose only job in the US was hospice visitor.  Adding to life's tapestry my printer broke down and the boiler malfunctioned. 

However, an unlikely happening has occurred these last few weeks which adds a lively new dimension. My church Life Group - that's our name for fortnightly house group meetings - is a time of learning and also of sharing. They have followed my story. Two years ago after a fall in town I was with a splint and crutches with a withered left leg, facing rehab. Eventually, after personal and group activity at the hospital I signed up at the end of last year at our local school gym. 4 months of subsided exercise ended with a commitment to continue as a fully-paying member.  Coyly I mentioned this at one group meeting. Concern about the damage that gyms can give older people (and you hear stories) was mixed with some surprising interest. A couple of men started muttering that they really needed to become fitter and perhaps they might join me. Without any heavy proselytizing to my great joy they acted on their mutters and a few weeks ago joined up. 

Both younger than me (not by much) we attempt to meet three times a week. Doesn't that impress you? Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. .Many are less impressed when they hear that sometimes we like to meet for coffee in the gym cafe beforehand. ,But it's about fellowship too. For me, it been a great bonus, not only adding motivation but developing friendship.  Extra levels of athleticism are not evident yet. Indeed, yesterday I didn't complete my shopping list of exercises but was encouraged that one of my friends said he'd had enough too just as I was giving up. But I give thanks for my gym buddies. You'll have heard of muscular Christianity perhaps which the Oxford dictionary defines: 'a Christian life of brave and cheerful physical activity, especially as popularly associated with the writings of Charles Kingsley and with boys' public schools of the Victorian British Empire'.  I think brave and cheerful might just about apply!

Oh no!

 A couple of weeks ago or so, I received a cheerful email about the approaching deadline for some Bible notes. By December 1st the publisher was expecting a set of material on Psalms for the Encounter God series. Indeed they sent the contract with final details to be signed off. I was flabbergasted. Utterly.

Immediately I replied saying that they had the wrong person! So convinced was I that this project had nothing to do with me that I asserted total ignorance. And truthfully I was mightily relieved. I had already written material for them during the year and felt blissfully lightened from this responsibility.

Imagine my embarrassment when the Editor wrote explaining (with gentleness) that I had agreed to this project on January 3rd.  Just to make it clear she sent a copy of her Jan 5th reply email complete with the deadline date The necessity of complying with the deadline was strongly emphasized in the accompanying author's guidance. But it was very generous deadline...Dec. 1st was delightfully distant. 

How could I have so totally forgotten this assignment? Looking back in my 5 year journal I see why. On January 1st Carol attempted to take down the wreath on the front door, twisted and fell. It was the first time (of many more to come) when I struggled to get her on her feet again. I noted she fell badly and we only just managed to get up.  On January 3rd I record how difficult the stairs were for Carol, plus other emerging problems. From that point on the deterioration was so rapid that by January 13th Carol was in hospital entering  travail until divine release on March 12th. Looking back on the hard, cold facts of those early January days I realize how rapid the final disease was.  I also realize how confident I had felt about the year ahead with deadlines etc. And it explains my forgetfulness!

I have been given an extended deadline so shall aim to complete these notes through December.  But it goes to show how presumptuous  I (we) can be. James warns (4:13-16) about planning ahead. You should say 'If it is the Lord's  will, we will live and do this or that'.  Exactly so. Thank you Lord for an understanding Editor and the time you have given me.

Viewing the Cross

That last post with God's searing judgment in Amos jogged my memory about two hymns in my devotional aids. Way back before dystonia took my voice (no great loss to the world! I would often include singing in my devotions. Many hymns and songs are helpful in praise and thanks. I still use them as spoken words. Some really challenge. That's why I have a photocopy of two hymns side by side. One is contains much comfort. Yes, it's an old hymn, written in the19th century by Elizabeth Clephane in 1872:

Beneath the cross of Jesus I fain would take my stand- 

  the shadow of a mighty Rock within a weary land,

a home within the wilderness, a rest upon the way,

  from the burning of the noon-tide heat, and the burden of the day.

Upon that cross of Jesus mine eye at times can see

  the very dying form of One who suffered there for me;

and from my smitten heart with tears two wonders I confess-

  the wonders of redeeming love and my unworthiness.

I take, O cross, thy shadow for my abiding place;

  I ask no other sunshine than the sunshine of his face,

content to let the world go by, to know no gain nor loss,

  my sinful self my only shame, my glory all the cross.

 

Set alongside is a 20th century hymn by Ferdinand Blanchard 1929. He stresses a different aspect!

Before the cross of Jesus our lives are judged today;

  the meaning of our eager strife is tested by his Way.

Across our restless living the light streams from his cross,

  and by its clear, revealing beams we measure gain and loss.

The hopes that lead us onward, the fears that hold us back,

  our will to dare great things for God, the courage that we lack,

the faith we keep in goodness, our love, as low or pure,

  on all, the judgment of the cross falls steady, clear and sure.

Yet, humbly, in our striving, O God we face its test;

  we crave the power to do your will with him who did it best;

on us let now the healing of his great Spirit fall, 

  and make us brave and full of joy to answer to his call.

I need both aspects - comfort and discomfort!  What about you?

 

 

Phew! Amos

My daily Bible readings in the past week took me reeling through the book of Amos. The prophet's judgement on the people of God is lacerating. The notes comment how Jesus confronted those who were rich in possessions but poor in compassion...much in Amos mirrors the modern world, especially the affluent church. Are we content to sing 'idle songs' (Amos 6:5) while the foundations crack?

The gospel of God's redeeming love in Jesus is packed with good news. I think of the songs we sang in church last Sunday., full of praise and affirmation that God is for us and not against us. And it's amazingly true, 'There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus..' (Rom 8:1).Profoundly glorious justification truth. Yet, as the Amos bible notes say: 'God is not fooled. He is the master of the universe, but his pained concern is local: the poor are crushed at the gate and the innocent denied justice. Worship not flowing into justice is not worship at all. God is righteous, not religious. He desires living relationship not performance.'

Put bluntly, ethics matter to God. For us, Christly behaviour matters to our Lord - personally and in our Christian communities. What a challenge this brings when culture shrieks a different morality.

One verse in Amos is particularly chilling (8:11) that a famine is coming not of bread or water 'but a famine of hearing the words of the Lord'.  People will search for it but they will not find it. Divine silence. I remember hearing the distinguished homiletician Fred Craddock say that too much contemporary preaching is about God, too little is proclaiming God. For proclaiming God's word straight not only (as the saying goes) comforts the distressed but also discomforts the comfortable. Sometimes there's rebuke from a loving Father! That's difficult to preach and very difficult to hear.

A Plaque

'That's really good. Thank You for saying that.' I had another workman on my roof last week because of a broken roof vent which needed to be covered over.  No, not the same man who had given me gospel assurance before Carol's Thanksgiving Service! (a past post)  I invited him in for a cup of tea when the difficult job was completed. As he came in he halted in our small hallway to look at a decorated plaque Carol had put up. It's been there for years. I had forgotten what it said, well, I had forgotten it was there (!), and was startled as this man came through into the kitchen area for his tea and said: 'That's really good. Thank You for saying that.' 

Before he left he repeated what it had meant to him to enter the house and be greeted by these words:

PEACE to all that enter

WELCOME from our heart

ENJOY yourself within

GOD BLESS as you depart

A couple of things went through my mind.  A reminder of how Carol placed one or two plaques in our home to focus thoughts and how much they expressed her gifts of hospitality and friendship. Two other plaques in the kitchen read : Blessed is the life that is guided by love, and Life is better with good friends. The other thought was - what responsibility that places on me when people take them seriously. Coming into my home -  is it still welcoming and friendly?  That really is a good question. 

Another reunion

Just when I finished my last post two sheets of flimsy airmail letter fluttered out from some old files. It was a rare finding of some 25 year-old correspondence from my Dad.  He only occasionally wrote to me in the US and when he did he liked to tell stories. Often unusual ones. This was about the Men's Contact Club he began when minister at Faringdon Baptist Church (1948-52). A small village church he looked after while Bursar at Regent's Park College in nearby Oxford.  He wanted to form a friendship group for men, with general interest themes intended to attract others. At one meeting......

One fellow said he would get his friend to come along with his new motor bike and talk about it. The bike was a BSA Thunderflash 1000cc!  He was not too eloquent but he had some things which were quite new - for example it had a press button starter instead of the old kick starter. He showed me where the button was and I tentatively pressed it. The explosion and shattering row quite unnerved me! The room at the back of the church was rather small and adjoined some houses. So I was in quite a panic to stop the row but didn't know how. I tried to call out 'How do you stop it?' But he thought I was exulting in the powerful performance until I bellowed in  his ear.

I think that was the most impressive of meetings for John! He became a regular member of the club and his friendly personality endeared him to all - as well as the fact that he was goalkeeper for Faringdon Football Club. A few weeks later there was another meeting which was a total failure. To start with it was raining dismally and then the speaker did not turn up. There were three of us and one was John. I wondered what I could speak about. I had been reading on the bus coming home from Oxford an article which mentioned John Wesley and the fact that he had rarely met anyone who was concerned about their salvation. I felt so surprised that he made that statement. I shared this with the men. To my surprise John said 'Well you should see my wife?'

The next evening I called and found it was true. That evening she turned to the Lord. When I saw her 30 years later she said 'I have tried to be faithful'. And, casually John mentioned about their time with scouts and cubs. I had started the movement but it was not very flourishing and eventually had no leader. John took it on with his wife and the work was so flourishing that they reached the top limit for membership. and it became a great influence for good.

And why did my Dad retell this story in a letter to me?  Because 50 plus years later he had just met up again with John and his wife at Clevedon Baptist Church.  He sat between them in church and relived those former years. Another Blest be the tie that binds story

Really?

Way back, around 1970, while I was in training in Oxford I became student pastor in the Cowley Baptist church. Carol and I combined studying (me) and secondary school teaching (Carol) with pastoring a lively church.  We made many friends with some around our own age like Judith, who had come to Oxford as a community midwifery sister, having already experienced a full life of nursing service with VSO overseas.  Conscientiously she has kept in touch with us ever since.  That's the wonder of Christian friendship, like the old Baptist hymn goes: Blest be the tie that binds our hearts in Christian love. Yes, Blest!

In 2021 she published her autobiography and sent us a copy. I was intrigued to look back for mention of her Oxford days. She describes how she came to the Cowley church and mentions Carol and me, describing how we were in our twenties like her and became good friends. She also gives a potted history of what I went on to do in ministry and about our family right up unto the present. And then she wrote: It was Michael and Carol who said to me "Why don't you go with the BMS (the Baptist Missionary Society) when I was talking about going back to Africa. Strange, isn't it? I had no recollection of that conversation. 

It's an action-packed story subsequently of Judith's service in Africa, with a clear love for the Congo and many missionaries who were there. (Apparently around a 100 serving in different ways!) Marvellous to read, with photographs too. 

Why do I mention this now? Because a few days ago Judith and her sister came by coach to visit Cambridge and I was able to spend a few hours with them. Some of the time seeing Cambridge, much of it talking about her life and the many friends we had in common on the BMS mission field. Blest be the tie that binds. Of course I had to ask her about that Oxford conversation. Were Carol and I really involved? Really?  Oh, yes, she said. That happened!

You never know when God can use you.