Living Wittily

When the Preacher Takes his Stand and Falls Anyway

I was preaching yesterday with some of the good Baptist folk up the Coast.

After the service discovered talking, laughter and post service banter and not paying attention to direction comes at a cost to personal pride.

Not having eyes in the back of my head didn't see the raised step behind me while walking backwards fully engaged in exchange of views on Dave Crowder's new CD Give us Rest.

Preacher falls backwards, backside first, and his impetus enables him to almost complete a backward roll, with legs waving asymmetrically like an exercise class gone wrong.

Great concern by the remaining congregation wondering if this is the Preacher demonstrating Dave Crowder's new CD Give us Rest!

Preacher gets up quickly assuring the quick on the scene pastoral care team he is perfectly OK.

Preacher explains he is quite used to this kind of thing as it happens to him nearly every Friday night.

Detects puzzlement, laughter now combined with raised eyebrows and renewed pastoral concern for a fallen preacher.

Quickly explains, plays five a side football on Friday nights and sometimes forgets he isn't Lionel Messi.

Aaahhhh! That's all right then!

Glad I wasn't preaching on "Let him who thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall..." 

 

Youth at Risk Training days. And On Another Subject, Taxis and Solcitiors.

I've been away most of this week at a Youth At Risk Coaching conference. Three days 9-5 with around 40 others drawn from across the campuses of UWS. It was stimulating, annoying, unsettling, fun, tiring, intense, rigid and rigorous, and was aimed at changing the way we think, see ourselves, the world and others. In some ways it was a cross between a three day lecture, a three day argument and a three day retreat. If that sounds a bit confused it's because it's quite hard to categorise into the usual training packages. There was a lot of laughter, sometimes the nervous hide from the deep stuff humour; often genuine belly laugh, ahah, loveable laughter of human beings 'getting it' and wondering why we didn't see it before. You can find out more about Youth at Risk over here I intend to follow up the training once I've had a time to process three days of inner gardening!

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Now sometimes you're driving about minding your own business and then something bugs you. I was driving behind a taxi on the way to Braehead on Wednesday evening. Then I noticed the advert. Do remember this was a taxi, a road vehicle licensed to carry the public safely, driven by a responsible driver hopefully with a clean licence.

The advert was on behalf of a firm of solicitors called keepmylicence.com.

Now I have to say as a strap line that one tends to get your attention. But then it is surrounded by words and phrases that make most of us wary of other drivers "drunk driving - mobile phone use - dangerous driving - speeding - no insurance". Now I may be a wee Pharisee, and I make due allowance for what may be idiosyncratic and discriminatory prejudices about the common good, social responsibility and the rest; and I am absolutely committed to the fact that whatever the rime a person has a right to representation and defence.

So feel free to rebuke, correct or counsel me, but am I the only one who is offended by that selection of driving offences being positively linked with avoiding their consequences? Why should those convicted of these offences often enough to accumulate 12 points, or who commit an offence serious enough to be shown a straight red card and face being banned from driving, keep their licence? Losing a licence isn't only a punishment for the offender; it allows time for changes of behaviour that will make public space safer. To specialise in defending drivers is fine; and of course drivers facing prosecution for whatever offence are entitled to the best defence available to them. But I am very uncomofrtable with advertising and brand naming that inevitably suggests it's possible and acceptable to minimise the inconvenience of those guilty of license losing behaviour, by increasing the risk to the public? All of this of course is within the law and the firm is reputable, has a long experience and obviously considerable success. But then, there is the not irrelevant fact that the advert was on the back of a taxi minibus......? It's a strange and puzzling world and some of its daily observations do my head in.... so I make my own observations :)

You can Google the company and see what you think yourself.

The Moment When I Was Unique in All the World

On a day out doing stuff with Aileen, our daughter.

Waiting at an appointment I passed the time reading George Herbert's poems in my pocket Everyman edition - these are beautiful small hardbacks, and this one stays in the car for just such fugitive moments. I prefer Herbert to Hello magazine in waiting rooms.

Later in the supermarket she tracked me down to haberdashery, where I had discovered and was examining the selection of needles, looking for a particular size of tapestry needle. It hadn't ocurred to me to look in Tesco for tapestry needles. It hadn't ocurred to her that she would find her father enthusing about Tesco's needlework hardware.

While doing so I was whistling quietly - a habit that's really annoying if you're not me. The tune I was whistling, as often, was the one I;d just been playing in the car, John Denver's Poems and Prayers and Promises.

Put all three things together and she reckons I was, at that moment, unique in all the world. Who else would be sampling embroidery needles in Tesco, with a well used hardback volume of Metaphysical poetry in his jacket pocket, while whistling the tune to a cheesy country song by a now dead singer songwriter you either love or hate?

Answer, probably no one else. But George Herbert's is the poetry of religiopus genius; tapestry is its own art form; and John Denver was a supreme artist of music that celebrates humanity, our world and many of the things that matter and then some.

To be at one moment on a Thursday afternoon, someone in whom all three coincide is, to be able to smile at those quotidian intersections of circumstance when the contingent and the purposeful unintentionally embody the unique mystery that is any one of us. And a moment to be thankful for, in the words of Herbert:

Thou who has giv'n so much to me,

Give one thing more a grateful heart....

Not thankfull, when it pleases me;

As if thy blessings had spare days:

But such a heart, whose pulse may be,

                                            Thy Praise.

The Friends Who Help Us Grow Roots

Tom and Beth have left a comment on the sidebar. They are two people whose hospitality, care and patience helped me in the early days when I had little idea what following Jesus was all about. For several years I was educated in welcome, and given a grounding in one to one pastoral care through their own informal generosity.

Tom and I worked in the same engineering firm for a year or so, we sang together in the Christian Endeavour choir and most weeks I was run home because I;d stayed so late I missed the last bus.When they left for New Zealand I was already sensing God's call to ministry and chasing after Highers at night school to enter University. I've only seen them a couple of times since, when they were home over the past 42 years. Life moves on and so do each of us as we grow, change and slowly become the people God calls us to be, with all the diversity of experience and perspective that shapes and directs us.

But I've never forgotten you Tom and Beth, and always look back on that first Christian friendship as one of the rooting powders that helped my life towards a rootedness and stability in a faith that has sustained me. We can never know who it is we help and befriend, nor how their lives and ours turn out. But amongst the strategic graces with which God blesses our lives are those who befriend us, encourage us, and who share parts of our journey with us. Tom and Beth have been two such graces in my life, and it's a Christmas surprise to hear from them.

God bless you in your own retitrement in Brisbane, and the peace of the Prince of Peace fill you home and your hearts. 

Leadership and Walking on Grass

Designer Christopher Williams tells a story about an architect who built a cluster of large office buildings that were set on a central green. When construction was completed, the landscape crew asked him where he wanted the pathways between the buildings.

"Not yet," the architect said. "Just plant the grass solidly between the buildings."

This was done, and by late summer pedestrians had worn paths across the lawn, connecting building to building. The paths turned in easy curves rather than right angles, and were sized according to traffic.

In the fall, the architect simply paved the pathways. Not only did the new pathways have a design beauty, they responded directly to user needs.

I like this story. I wonder if leadership is more about letting people find their way of being, and then affirming it? I wonder too if leadership is more about waiting for people to find their direction an d destination, rather than telling them what it is, or ought to be?

Scolty hill (photo) has its own network of paths worn into the patterns of countless feet.

An email from America from a Rowan Williams Fan!

James Gordon

Hello Meri! What a delightful letter, thank you! You are precisely the kind of person for whom much of the blog is written. I'm glad it's of some help. I too miss Rowan Williams. The fact that some said he was too clever to be Archbishop says more about dumbing

Mon 08:20

The other day I received an email from Meri, who came across this blog by accident. It seemed to me to be the kind of response that makes blog writing worthwhile rather than a self-indulgent personal platform. The following is her email and my reply - I marvel at the way friendship, fellowship and shared experience are possible and made rich with meaning through such serendipitous actions as Googling a ridiculously erudite ex-Archbishop of Canterbury and ending up with, well, me :))

...............................

"Serve God wittily in the tangle of their minds"

I love that.

Hi James,

My name is Meri.  I came upon you by way of searching for Rowan Williams.  I found him as holy fool with a delightful photograph of  him looking quite mad.  If it were not for reading Rowan Williams  "Writing in the Dust"  contemplations after 911,  I would not have become the lonely G-d botherer that I am.  This kind of writing was  nothing like the messages in the church of my youth,  Church of England.  That kind of religion never "took" on me and I left as soon as I was able.  But,  the biblical narratives and Christian values are deeply embedded in me.

Loneliness and loss has dogged me all my life,  leading me to a love of literature and a life of the mind.  Reality has disappointed. Fate has not been kind.  Now, I see myself as an isolated, literary and poetic soul who has never found a place to fit in.  Certainly not in establishments.

I discovered theology through RW and it spoke to me, made sense, was not simplistic. I am not an academic, but reasonably educated, literate and thoughtful.  If I am to untangle my mind,  I need help.   Where to find it?  I believe my only option is to reach out on-line to those with similar interests.  The idea of an on-line holy book club is appealing.  Have you heard of such a thing?  Do you know of any serious theology forums? and would they allow a novice in?  (I am 82 years of age) a little slower, but still teachable...... Do you think this is a good idea?

I have a dog eared copy of "Open to Judgement"  which has been invaluable for my sanity.  An essay on "The Abbe Huvelin"  a theology for neurotic and suffering souls was written especially for me.  I am  indebted. I used to follow Dr. William's web site when he was Archbishop, and I miss it.  Have you read any of his recent books, and would you recommend one?   Perhaps he has written another phrase or paragraph  especially for me.........

My devotions are eccentric.  They are connected with a humming bird I feed and will help through the winter.  And with the barns I visit where the police horses live.  Last week Dalton, the horse,  was all gussied up ready to visit a dying child at the hospital.  These kinds of things let in the light and help with the untangling.

The photo of the heather is lovely,

best wishes,  Meri

And my reply

Hello Meri!

What a delightful letter, thank you! You are precisely the kind of person for whom much of the blog is written. I'm glad it's of some help.

I too miss Rowan Williams. The fact that some said he was too clever to be Archbishop says more about dumbing down leadership to management, than it does about someone who is chosen under God to be a spiritual leader. Have you had a look at his book Tokens of Trust? Apart from his more substantial theological work, he writes some books as a brilliant man whose intellectual power is used in the service of faith seeking understanding. This is a really good introduction to the Christian faith through the thick glasses of Rowan!

Can I also suggest you get a hold of Benjamin Myers book Christ the Stranger. The Theology of Rowan Williams. I think it will give you a lot to think about because it is what a good introduction does - it gives you Rowan Williams rather than someone else's much less interesting opinions about it!!

Now I haven't personally gone looking for an online theological forum but there must be such things. An online theological reading group - now that's a good idea though again not one I've pursued, so can't help much there. You may see yourself as a novice, but someone whose life experience is a rich tapestry of light and shadow, and whose spirituality is formed in the hard places as well as the comfort zones, is no novice in theology, if theology is to be lived as well as thought.

I wonder - would you allow me to put your letter on the blog - I can remove your name if you wish. I think it would encourage others who struggle with other people's claimed certainties and closed timidity in the face of the mystery and meaning of that Reality whom we name as God, and have come to know through Christ. No pressure whatsoever if you feel hesitant. Just let me know.

Shalom, and give dalton an apple on my behalf,

Well as you can see, Meri was happy for our correspondence to be published, and she sent a photo of Dalton - I need to convert it from a bitmap file to one this platform supports - I can't work it out, any suggestions? 

The Elusive Blessing of Being Untroubled

Let my doing nothing

when I have nothing to do

become untroubled

in its depth of peace

like the evening in the seashore

when the water is silent.

Rabindranath Tagore

 

Robbing your life of charm and variety

the taste of adventure, of space, spontaneity.

How cramped are your notions, formulas, judgements,

always condensing yet hungry for content.

Don't break down my defences, accept the human lot;

each road must take the direction of thought.

Karol Wojtyla

Two very different holy men, more holy still by never claiming to be. Unselfconsciousness is an essential disposition of love, compassion, mercy, faithfulness, truthfulness, in short, holiness.

Tagore is referring to our clinging to self importance, and addiction to finding our significance in activity, achievement, embossing our manufacturer's stamp on each day.

Wojtyla speaks passionately against playing life defensively, with risk aversion as our default, busily dumbing down the possibilities of life to the familiarly safe, and finding comfort in predictable stability. Instead he urges discovery of the potential in the newness of risks taken, and thereby recovering impetus towards the will of God.

How to live out of suich wisdom?

One of my favcourite photos, framed openness with life and growth flourishing at the centre.

Early Morning Ornitheology

I went out for a walk early this morning along to the village of Skene. We are enjoying a long hot spell in Scotland, which is in itself cause for thanksgiving, rejoicing, praise and feeling so much better about the world! Amongst the miraculous everyday accomplishments exhibited around us every day is the acrobatic low flying demonstrations by swallows skimming over the fields and any water that happens to be around. Seeing them reminded me of the poet of the Psalms noticing that even the swallow finds a nest in God's house.

A bit further along I came across a teenage pied wagtail. Not quite mature, and its markings not fully defined. B ut there it was sitting on a hay roll getting its face ready for the day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It wasn't all that fussed about this part time wildlife paparazzi in a pink T shirt invading its privacy so I took a couple more

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then over the road I heard a birdong I've known all my life - a yellowhammer in full flow. It was at the highest point of the hedge showing off. My wee Sony optical zoom x10 gave this photo which isn't exactly National geographic but it'll do me - what a lovely moment when sound, sunshine, spectacular colour and many a memory all came together.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As that other ornitheologian said, "Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?" Not a bad start to my day, on holiday and at home and enjoying all this.

Living Wittily is Retiring Kind Of.......

Many of those who regularly visit Living Wittily will be aware that life is in process of changing for me. For the past 11 years I have served Baptists in Scotland as the Principal of the Scottish Baptist College, and done so with a burden of responsibility and an awareness of high privilege. When a 19 year old lad from Lanarkshire turned up in the West End of Glasgow on the steps of the Scottish Baptist College, with Highers gained at night school after leaving school at 15, and asked to come and study for ministry, he had no idea that 30 years later he would be appointed Principal. Nor that, untrained, untried and untested as he was then, he would later be entrusted with the formation of women and men towards Christian ministry within and beyond the church.

During my time as Principal I have grown and changed, learned more than I ever conceived I would need to know about Higher Education and ministry formation, and met and worked with a remarkable staff in the College and in the wider circle of UWS staff. It has been a rich time, not without its considerable expenseof emotion and energy and time, but always with an awareness of gift, purpose and shared vision, and it's hard to ask for more.

For the past three years I've travelled from Aberdeen to Paisley, living away from home 4 days a week, and working from home. Family life remains as it should the foundation of my life, and the time has come to be at home more, to reconfigure life around a new sense of vocation, and to plan for the next stages of our lives. That sounds as if I am feeling my age! Well yes, and no. At 62 I am indeed feeling my age, as I did at 52 and even 32. But more important is to accept, even embrace change, as what keeps us alive; to understand that movement is what gives impetus; and to co-operate with the reality that desire and hope and vision give life its energy, direction and purpose. All of that I feel, and clearly recognise in the disjunctions and changes, in the stirring up and invitation, that is the continuing work of the Spirit, disturbing with a deeper peace, and calling into newness and risk.

It would be wrong to say I've been pulled out of my comfort zone! Whatever else the past 11 years have been, it hasn't been that, thankfully.

To teach and share with students at the great creative cusp of life that is study; to encourage and support the discovery of new things that converts monochrome faith to plasma screened subtlety; to accompany students in the at times painful but fruitful work of rediscovering what seemed lost; to bring to birth the recovery of faith as proper confidence, so that life becomes both thoughtfully trusting and responsibly informed, what is not to like in that vocation.

To learn how to encapsulate high vocational ideals and powerfully transformative spiritual principles into the framework and discourse of academic documents, that is itself a gift of the Spirit intepreting the glossolalia of the academy!

To demonstrate in church and academy, that academic excellence, vocational integrity, creative scholarship, and formation of character and competence are hard work, and entirely to be the goal of the student life, and to do so in an intentional community, that is what I mean by responsib ility and privilege. 

I will complete my tenure as Principal on August 31. It is likely I will continue to teach at the College part time, at least till August 2014. My heart has always been in pastoral work and in sharing the life of a Christian community as theologian, preacher, friend and servant. Where opportunities present I hope to still be of service to Christ and to the work of God's Kingdom. And in addition? God knows!

Greeting Death by Celebrating Life

Last week I took the funeral service for my brother-in-law, Sheila's brother. We all have our ways of coming to terms with loss. I had been best man at Ian's wedding 40 years ago, which added to the poignancy, and the fittingness of conducting the funeral of a good, gentle, man.

Inevitably when death comes close we are wise to think about that word inevitable. And to prepare for what must surely come nearer as day passes day. That isn't a morbid, unnatural negative thought - it's simply the truth that needs to be faced so that life can be enjoyed for what it is, precious unrepeatable gift. A human life is a succession of giftedness, each day a miracle of consciousness that we are, and wonder that we are at all. And as a Christian that miraculous wonder borrows the rhetorical prayer of the Psalm writer, "What is a human being that you care for us, mere mortals that you the Eternal pay attention to us?"

Mary Oliver is one of my canonical poets. Her reflection on how to greet death, is an exuberant celebration of how we greet life. I love this poem.

When Death Comes

 

When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse

 

to buy me, and snaps his purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox;

 

when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

 

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering;
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

 

And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,

 

and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,

 

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth
tending as all music does, toward silence,

 

and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.

 

When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was a bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

 

When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened
or full of argument.

 

I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.

 

~ Mary Oliver ~