Too Soon?

I have been asked to preach next Sunday in Histon Baptist Church. Someone said to me: 'Isn't it too soon?' Good question. I am not sure. A series on Philippians is current and I need to slot in with a sermon on ch.3:1-11. Could it be too soon after Carol's funeral?  I guess my concentration levels are down a bit. In A grief observed, C.S. Lewis expresses raw grief (I may reflect on this in the future) which he begins by describing felt 'like fear...the sensation of being afraid'. And secondly, 'the laziness of grief. Not only writing but even reading a letter is too much. Even shaving. What does it matter now whether my cheek is rough or smooth|?'  My early reaction is weary sadness. That certainly means laziness comes easily. Yes, effort is needed more than ever.  .

Yet, because preaching was an early (strange) calling upon my life, I realize this is a gifted fresh opportunity. So I have begun my 'preaching swim' (as in 360degree preaching), immersing myself in the text , listening to what God may be saying and doing in his motivation to action. However, I remembered that I had actually written Encounter bible reading notes not long ago on this passage.

Did I look up my work (still to be published)?  You bet! A brief summary:

This is an astounding two-parter. A dire warning is followed by one of the world's greatest testimonies. First Paul condemns opponents in the church who insist on retaining Jewish requirements for believers. They reveal a 'confidence in the flesh' (verse 3) that still requires obeying laws of the old covenant. You sense Paul's anxiety about their influence on this young church.

Yet this outrage pivots dramatically as Paul describes how he was once one of them. Imagine the religious hubris! And this makes his testimony about encountering Jesus even more powerful - dramatically moving from darkness to light.

Astoundingly a chief opponent of the Jesus way, becomes gloriously transformed to lead Christians as he revels in such stunning all-for-Jesus language.

So I did some listening to the text. Now to take those important two steps: First to identify what to say - the message and purpose - and then prepare how to say it!  I'll let you know how it works out.

Algorithms and the creed

Facebook quickly recognized my bereavement and its algorithm now sends a daily stream of meditations on grief. Is this helpful? Occasionally, yes. One was titled: Mornings are the cruellest.

The morning light comes in the same way it always did, like the world didn't lose someone irreplaceable. And for a moment I just lie there caught between the life I had with you and the one I'm still learning to live without you.

I get up because I have to, but every morning begins the same way now                                              With your name on my lips, with your absence in the room                                                                  With another day ahead that you won't be in.

This resonates .Mornings are the worst for me. I know it's still early days.  Sometimes the meditation are bleak.

When the loss is deep enough it doesn't just break your heart. It breaks the foundation beneath your life. And from that moment on you are learning how to stand on ground that no longer feels familiar. 

No, the foundations are not broken. True much is unfamiliar - I am learning to live on fresh ground. But it's more a question of widening foundations. That's why I was drawn to a meditation (by Dick Willliams in Godfacts,19.73) on that credal conviction: I believe in the communion of saints.

Lord, slowly I am learning that You are my life, and I am learning that You are the life of all who love You;                                                                                                                                              I am learning that we who love You share the same life, and I am learning something of the sweetness and the splendour of that sharing.                                                                                      I am learning that when it is shared, our life in You expands according to some inner principle of  spontaneous growth like fire.                                                                                                            And I remember that You are eternal. You do not die. So that if You are my life, I shall not die.      And those who go before us with you as their life, live in you still, as I do, as your family on earth does.

Lord as we worship You (You who are our life) our love explodes across time and through eternity... catching us together from both sides of death's division and fusing our worship into one great act of praise.

You are God - not of the dead but of the living.

It is slowly learning but what deeper foundations! 

The first horrid birthday

That's what someone called yesterday. The first time I had to face Carol's birthday without her. It's true that certain occasions particularly unlock emotions. It was a year ago that Carol made her last  public outing, when our church life group celebrated her 80th birthday with a banner, diet Coke and good food. Looking far from well, she rose to the occasion and enjoyed the poem created in her honour.  

Yesterday many kind friends remembered the date and sent me messages of love. Good friends travelled from Suffolk to a National Trust Property (Anglesey Abbey) near Cambridge just for me. They treated me to lunch and then we walked a couple of miles through the grounds with spring flowers awakening around us.  What a kind idea to share in a time like that!

Later I was with our church life group for a fish and chip supper remembering Carol one year on. At a sad time there are few better experiences than being wrapped around by friends who not only remember Carol with affection and who miss her with me, but who shared in an extended prayer time one year on.

Yes, there are aspects that are 'horrid'. The loss of someone you deeply loved for 58 years inevitably leaves a cauldron of turbulence. Emotional disturbances bubble beneath the new normal. But I rejoice in yesterday's kindnesses. Thank you to all my friends for wrapping around me!

You're with Jesus, right?

 Four days before the funeral a white van drew up outside. The driver had worked on my solar panels a couple of years ago. Now he was back to wash them! They've been up for over 10 years and through sheer neglect have developed a thickish layer of algae and grime. A skilled salesman he emphasized the benefits of allowing him and his companion to clamber all over the roof (back and front) with a cleaner and (my) hose. 

Was I interested? No. It was among a number of things that I did not want to be bothered with as preparations gathered for Carol's funeral.  Yet, I realized inconvenient though it was I probably would benefit! So, reluctantly, I gave permission and admit they returned the panels to pristine condition - the solar units since have shown appreciable bounce.

When he came to say goodbye he asked about my missus. And then he saw the card display as I explained that she had died. 'Oh, he said, she was a lovely lady. I'm so sorry.'  As he was turning away he suddenly wheeled around. 'She's with Jesus, though, isn't she? You're with Jesus right!' 'Yes,' I replied, 'I'm with Jesus.'  'That's everything that is,' he said. Pulling down his t-shirt from his neck, he showed me the tattoo over his heart. A cross with the words: JESUS SAVES. 'I was in a terrible mess. My whole life. Drinking and all that. Going nowhere I was. And then I met Jesus and he's changed me. And he will never let me go. He's the way to heaven. I am the Way, the Truth, The Life. That's him. So we know that for your wife. She's safe with him.'

You just never know, do you? From a man on my roof came a powerful spiritual message, a testimony of faith, straight from his heart. I have smiled about this unlikely reinforcement of Christian comfort several times since. It's really good to be with Jesus, right?