A touching surprise

 As you might expect my brother Steve has been much on my mind. Talking with his son, my nephew Tim, has been one of the pluses in our sadness. As a busy film producer he lives a demanding life and our conversations have been few through the years. He told me that when Steve went into the care home very recently, his father requested that he bring his favourite picture from his home to hang in his room.  Apparently it had been a constant friend through his life and he needed it in his new strange situation. For some visual people pictures can become friends!

Anyway, I cannot overstate my surprise when I discovered this favourite picture was one I painted over 60 years ago. It is a pallet knife oil painting of the market square in Saffron Walden. 

I was probably 16 or 17 when I first sketched this scene - an empty market with an emphasis on the skyline. I loved painting with oils, including slapping on thick paint with a knife and this picture emerged. Wondering about why this was my brother's favourite I remember that our first visit to Saffron Walden as a family was a particularly happy one.  We stayed in a hotel - probably our first time as a family.  Near the hotel were intriguing gardens named Jubilee gardens with a maze, sunken garden and remnants of an estate with walls, archways, a circular staircase to a viewing platform, and summerhouse, all set in fascinating scenery and sunshine.  On one occasion my father had stolen out of the hotel earlier to place clever clues (at least they seemed clever to us!) which gave us enormous fun. Such was innocent pleasure in pre-social media days. I wish I'd been able to ask Steve why he liked this particular daub. Maybe it was nothing to do with that day in the sunshine.  But I am truly touched that it mattered so much to Steve and apparently to Tim also, who has already allocated a hanging space in his home. Yes, a touching surprise at a sad time.

Sunday afternoons

When I returned from the US eight years ago I began a Sunday afternoon ritual.  After Songs of Praise on BBC TV I would call my younger brother, Steve, for a weekly conversation.  During those years his wife's health deteriorated leading to her placement in a care home and he himself struggled with mobility. On his own in the family home, with his beloved cat for company, our phone call generally began with comments on the Songs of Praise programme.  Always shrewd and to-the-point Steve was never short of an opinion.

But after this usual starting point (though viewpoints were anything but predictable)  the conversation took off in any one of several highly unpredictable directions. An avid reader of unusual books (bought from his local charity shop) he could plunge into Britain's social history in the nineteenth century, or the story of the Romany people, or a particular period of Russian history. Well, almost anything though he was especially interested in social history. His politics were left of centre and stridently expressed. Conversation sparkled with wit and clarity.

Yet, at other times he was reflective especially about our family life growing up and his own life as a Baptist minister. Yes, we were both born in a Baptist minister's family and I for one was absolutely determined not to follow in my father's footsteps.  Steve was also reluctant. How we both ended up in ministry is one of those God surprises!  He served several churches with faithfulness and love and was chaplain to a drug rehabilitation centre.  It seemed to me that his pastoral care for people with his deep commitment to intercessory prayer proved central strengths of his ministry.  

Always there was concern for my own family which showed in his careful attention to detail - always following up the next time we spoke.  He assured me that his daily prayers always included my family's needs and I knew he meant it.

Very sadly, these conversations have now ceased. Steve died on 3rd January, four days after his 76th birthday.  He had declined in health these last weeks after an extended stay in hospital with sepsis, pneumonia and covid all complicating underlying health conditions.  At first I could converse with him in hospital - still in conversation full of sparkle and personality.  His faith was undiminished in spite of pain and confusion. His son told me how at the end he was longing to go to heaven.

I miss him and feel a strange loss. Strange because it became clear many weeks ago that he was at the last stage of his life, yet the cold fact that he died 7:08 pm Friday night shocked with its harsh reality. Yet, I know the greater reality is a spiritual one. His conviction, and mine, are grounded in the gift of eternal life promised by Jesus and blazingly vindicated by his resurrection.  My prayers are for his widow Brenda and his son Tim for whom the loss is close and personal. Thank you for reading this. Many will know exactly how I am feeling and its helped to express a little in this post.

And us, right now

And the second question: Is the Jesus way working with us in his local church today? In the real world now, with its secular headlines squeezing God out of the picture, how effectively is God changing us within our neighbourhoods?  How evident are those qualities of the quiet Kingdom of God (growing like a mustard seed) power of kindness, building trust in a positive environment, setting clear expectations, humble, slowing down to listen more deeply and appreciate others more? 

We who believe that God changes the world in Jesus, who have experienced his gift of love and belonging should be shaped and growing into a group of people seeking to live out Jesus’ different way together. That all the glorious promises of Christmas moving towards the crowning point on the cross where Jesus, Son of God, gives himself utterly on the cross, truly mean new creation. Right here in my local church. .We belong to Jesus’ kingdom, a new way of living and being. In the real world of unanswered whys, of suffering and unkindness, Jesus' way is working.

I know this sets a high bar. I remember preaching once in my Cambridge church about how we are to be a people whose different Christly way of living, behaving and relating is obvious by the way we treat each other. At the end of the service I met this severe looking lady who was clearly angry. She rounded on me that she had come the previous Sunday, having just moved to the city, but at coffee time after the service had been totally ignored, even though she was obviously alone. (Honestly, I did feel looking at her face that I could understand people passing by!) But the truth is that we so often fail at being the best welcomers and friends for Jesus' sake.  And to finish this story she did become one of the very best hospitality givers in the church family! Really.

To help in the business of not failing, one of the pictures of Jesus that means so much to me is the awesome truth that in power, he is praying for me/us right now. He is interceding. Jesus always lives to intercede for believers (Heb 7:25) As the Message puts it Jesus is always on the job ready to  speak up for us.  Rom 8:34 Jesus at the righthand of God and is also interceding for us. Again, the Message: Jesus is in the presence of God at this very moment sticking up for us. It doesn’t seem possible, partly because of the sheer complexity of how Jesus could possibly interact with billions of people. I cannot begin to understand Ai and all its amassing of information. Yet that's artificial intelligence.  What about divine intelligence?  But, mostly, it doesn't seem possible because I really don’t deserve Jesus praying for me, ready to speak up for me, sticking up for me, when I’m not very good at praying with him. Yet, he promises in his grace to keep doing it. Remembering that this claim is spiritual reality profoundly strengthens me. Jesus is helping me to work with him in my local church. Wow.

Oh, as I finish, an endnote about this business of how much Jesus counts in the real world. Google Herod the Great (though I hope he's not the main person on your mind) and you will see the record stands. Herod the Great, born 73 BC. Now that's some date!