Sabbatical Reflection 8 - A Pilgrimage to The Holy Island of Lindisfarne

You catch glimpses of the castle about five miles before the turning of the A1 as you travel north, a familiar shape seen in many pictures, more the shape than the detail, but it is definitely there.  The shape that brings joy to the heart that you are close to a very special place; the Holy Island of Lindisfarne, the cradle of English Christianity. 

People visit Lindisfarne in their thousands each year.  Some simply because it is a well-known tourist destination with a castle and ruined priory to visit and beaches to enjoy, others to watch the birds and other wildlife and some, like me, come on pilgrimage, seeking God in what is widely acknowledged to be a thin place, a sacred place, a holy island. 

When I planned my sabbatical back in November 2019 the major focus was to be a pilgrimage to the Holy Land.  So many Minister friends who have been there have told me how such a visit has transformed their faith and their ministry and I’ve always said that I want to be the best Minister that, by the grace of God, I’m capable of being.  I guess I was hoping for a similar transformation by sailing on a boat on the Sea of Galilee where Jesus sailed, by walking the dusty paths he walked, immersing myself in the River Jordan and visiting significant places like the place of Jesus birth in Bethlehem, the place of the crucifixion and his tomb in Jerusalem. 

It was not to be.  Covid intervened and the disruption of my Sabbatical plans is probably the least significant consequence of Covid that is possible. 

The backup plan that I eventually came up with, with the help and guidance of my lovely Sabbaticals Support Group, was to increase the amount of theological reading I’d planned to undertake and to undertake a two-day pilgrimage to Lindisfarne. 

Why Lindisfarne?  There were several places I could have chosen, including Iona (the other UK Holy Island), Walsingham or even Glastonbury whose Christian tradition is just as rich as the more recent “New Age” spirituality with which it is now commonly associated.  I chose Lindisfarne because it was a place I knew resonated with me on a deep spiritual level, a place I’d visited three times before but only for a few hours; a place I felt God drawing me to for a longer stay. 

I would have loved to have walked Cuthbert’s Way, from Cuthbert’s final resting place in Durham Cathedral to Lindisfarne, but asthma and arthritis meant that would be a very difficult proposition indeed.  Instead, I drove to the island in the comfort of my car with the air conditioning turned on full blast, stopping only for a breakfast muffin at McDonalds on the way.  I stayed at The Ship Inn which is managed by Paul, who was associated with the Boys Brigade at Rhyddings Methodist Church, Oswaldtwistle in his younger days.

 

 

Those of you who are friends with me on Facebook will have seen that I took a lot of photographs during my two-night stay, but I also did a lot of thinking and a lot of praying, both talking to God and listening to God.  I feel deep within myself that the pilgrimage to Lindisfarne has been as spiritually significant and beneficial for me as the planned visit to the Holy Land would have been. 

Three particular moments stand out for me. 

The first involves Pilgrims Coffee House and Roastery, where I had probably the best cup of coffee I have ever drunk.  Whilst sitting at an outside table two small birds landed on the table and hopped right up to my hand.  It was an incredible, special and Holy moment, a shared bond between a human being and a tiny creature normally fearful of people, a moment when I think I caught a glimpse of what it truly means to be one of the stewards of God’s earth.  Tiny, beautiful, wonderful creatures like these tiny birds, creations of a loving God, are affected by the decisions we human beings make.  We must do a much better job of fulfilling our God given role as stewards of this earth and all that lives upon it. 

The second moment case on the first evening as I sat on an old wooden bench on the shoreline below St Mary’s Church, overlooking Cuthbert’s island and the sandbanks beyond.  That morning I had been awoken by the most glorious bird song and heard those wonderful avian melodies again during the afternoon when the tide was in and the day trippers had largely deserted the island.  That evening I heard a different song, the song of the seals!  Its actually the roar of seals, but with the difference pitches and tones it sounds remarkably like a choir of voices blending together in harmony. 

It struck me as never before how much music is an integral and essential part of God’s creation.  Perhaps that is why we sing as part of our worship of our amazing creator.  Perhaps that is why so many of us are struggling to worship at the moment because we can’t sing hymns and spiritual songs.

 

 

The third moment came late on the afternoon on the second day when I intentionally found a space on the island where I could be completely alone with God.  With the tide in and most of the day trippers gone finding a deserted spot was relatively easy.  There is also a change in the feel of Lindisfarne when the tide is in: the quality of the light changes and heaven and God feel even closer 

The picture above shows the view I had as I consciously spent time with God. 

I was there some time, reflecting on the ministry I have done over the past few years in West Pennine Moors Methodist Circuit and also thinking ahead to my coming appointment as Circuit Superintendent of Burnley and Pendle Circuit.  

It’s natural that these things were on my mind and its natural that my mind began to concentrate on all of the things I thought I could have done better and concerns about whether I am up to the task of Superintendency.  When we see ourselves in the light of God’s love and purity, we always find ourselves wanting. 

I felt the urge to look up and saw a herring gull flying high, then another joined it and then a third.  They flew through the sky together in perfect harmony, flapping their wings and turning and wheeling in unison.  It was quite beautiful and immediately brought to mind the harmony of the Holy Trinity, the God we worship, praise and adore. 

And I felt God speaking to me, not in audible words but in a memory of my Ordination service when the congregation said of those of us about to be ordained, “you are worthy!”  We were worthy not because of our own achievements but because God had declared us worthy by the Holy Spirit to be ordained as Presbyters and had equipped us for the task ahead. 

I realised that I needed to have greater faith that I had achieved at least some of the things the Lord wanted me to achieve in my present churches, otherwise I wouldn’t be moving to pastures new.  I also realised and had it reaffirmed for me that God has called me to Superintendency in Burnley and Pendle and has equipped me by his Holy Spirit for the daunting task ahead. 

On the morning I left Lindisfarne, Holy Island, I felt a total sense of peace and calm about all that lies ahead. It was a blessing to spend time there and I felt myself receiving afresh God’s blessing for my future as a Presbyter in the Methodist Church. 

 

 

 

Sabbatical Reflection 7 - Reaching into the Past to Look Towards the Future

This photo was taken in 2012 on a Wesley Study Centre day retreat to Lindisfarne, just a couple of months before I started serving as a Probationer Presbyter in the Wharfedale and Aireborough Methodist Circuit. 

In the foreground is Cuthbert’s Island, a small island just off Lindisfarne that you can walk to when the tide is out but that, like Lindisfarne itself is cut off at high tide.  In the background is Lindisfarne itself with St Mary’s church in a position of prominence.  The island is called Cuthbert’s island because its where St Cuthbert, one of the Celtic saints, used to go on his own to pray and the remains of his hermitage can be seen in the photo, marked by the simple wooden cross. 

Those of you who have been reading these Sabbatical Reflections may remember that originally the focus of my Sabbatical was to be a ten day pilgrimage to the Holy Land with associated reading and study.  When it became clear that this wasn’t going to be possible I felt God leading me to a short pilgrimage to Lindisfarne, also known as Holy Island; a place I’d visited before and one of the cradle places for Christianity in our land: not the Roman Catholic Christianity that became dominant in later centuries by the gentler Christianity of saints like Aidan, Cuthbert and Hilda of Whitby: a form of Christianity generally known as Celtic Christianity. 

Some scholars object to the phrases ‘Celtic Christianity’ and ‘Celtic Spirituality’ and whilst acknowledging their opinion and reasoning I will use the phrases as a handy shortcut for the rest of this reflection: as it is indeed intended as a piece of reflection rather than scholarly writing. 

I’m reflecting as I prepare to go on retreat to Lindisfarne, a retreat that as I write is less than two weeks’ away. Lindisfarne is known as Holy Island (along with Iona in Scotland), as what the Celts called a thin place where the veil between earth and heaven is especially thin and it can somehow be easier to pray and hear the voice of God.  I am told this is especially true when the tide is in and Lindisfarne is cut off from the mainland.  

I will admit that I am going to Lindisfarne in the hope of encountering God in a special way as I think about leaving my current Circuit and churches, which is going to be really difficult spiritually and emotionally, and go the Burnley & Pendle Methodist Circuit to serve as their Superintendent minister.  I am hoping that on Lindisfarne God will bless me with his real, tangible presence and a spiritual anointing for what is to come. 

Lindisfarne will also, I think, be a place to ponder what I am starting to become convinced is a way forward for the Christian Church in our land: not to look to the future and to new forms of church like Café Church or Messy Church, good though these are, but to look to the past and the native Celtic Christianity of our islands.  This has been a growing conviction within me for a number of years, and first came to me whilst on another Wesley Study Centre retreat at Ampleforth Abbey in 2011 as feeling God was saying that the way forward for the church was unity not division, combining the best of the traditions of each major denomination with a progressive and dynamic yet orthodox theology.  It is for this reason that I am a supporter of the Anglican/Methodist Covenant and the two churches working towards organic unity as a first step. 

The great thing about the Celtic Christianity of our islands is that it combines the best characteristics of the various forms of Christianity that abound in our world today.   

Simon Reed, Chair of the Caim Council of the Community of Aidan and Hilda, sums these characteristics up, in his book Creating Community: Ancient Ways for Modern Churches thus: “The Celtic Church had an Evangelical emphasis upon the Scriptures and upon mission, a Catholic sense of the importance of incarnation and sacrament, a Pentecostal-charismatic experience of the work of the Holy Spirit and an orthodox vision of God as Trinity. 

This sense of evangelism and mission is vital today in the UK, with many of our churches experiencing a decline in membership and increasingly elderly membership, with fewer and fewer people able or willing to undertake the tasks needed to keep a church functioning.  The only way to grow the church is to bring others to Christ, not through mass rallies with famous evangelists and preachers, but through friendship and Christian example in our community through unconditional no strings attached mission and service, the way of our Celtic Christian ancestors.   

This Catholic sense of the importance of incarnation and sacrament is reflected in the formality and ritual of high church worship which, when done well under the leading of the Holy Spirit, conveys a strong sense of mystery and the other. I have read on several occasions that the fastest growing form of Christian worship in the UK in Cathedral worship: that people of all ages are attending Cathedral services because of their sense of tradition and dignity and rootedness in the eternal, that sense that a church service takes place in a liminal space between earth and heaven.  This is also a feature of Celtic Spirituality and worship. 

Celtic Christians were also very close to nature and Celts, whether Christian or not, cared for the land.  One example of this closeness to nature was that after St Cuthbert spent a night praying whilst standing in the sea up to his neck in water, otters came and dried him when he came ashore.  This chimes in well with our modern concerns for the environment and preserving our planet for future generations. 

Celtic Christians were also intensely aware of the spiritual dimension of life and did not deny the possibility of the supernatural as many do today.  Modern Christians who follow the Celtic Christian path are equally convinced that the supernatural dimension of our lives is just as real as that which can be observed and explained by science.  To the Celtic Christians, angels are definitely real and miracles can and do happen.  The church badly needs a much great awareness of this part of creation. 

At the very centre of this sense of awareness of the supernatural was God’s Holy Spirit.  Often as Christians we picture the Holy Spirit as a dove, a thoroughly Biblical image taken from Jesus’ baptism Celtic Christians have another image of the Holy Spirit, as a Wild Goose.  The wild goose reveals a spirit which is passionate, noisy, and courageous. This symbol reminds us that God’s spirit cannot be tamed or contained. 

Celtic Christianity, both in its historical form and revived twenty first century expressions, very much focussed on community.  This is something that is perhaps gaining a new sense of importance in the minds of many people following the Covid-19 lockdowns.  We have spent so long separated from others that we are appreciating again the value of community.  When talking to church members prior to Sabbatical I got the overwhelming impression that it wasn’t just worshipping together in church that they missed; it was the fellowship over tea and coffee, the mid-week coffee mornings, craft groups and exercise classes and the Bible Study and Fellowship groups.  Yes, we all live in a community, whether that be a hamlet, village, town or city, a community we should be serving as individuals and as churches, but at its best each church is also a mutually supportive community of people growing together in the love of Christ. 

Many Celtic Christians lived in monastic or semi-monastic communities, like that at Whitby headed by Mother Hilda; and followed a way or rule of life.  The modern expression of this is dispersed monastic communities like the Northumbria Community, the Iona Community (centred on Iona) and the Community of Aiden & Hilda (with strong connections to Lindisfarne).  The UK Methodist Church has recently recognised the value of a way of life.  Members of the Methodist Diaconal Order have followed one for many years, but recently there has been encouragement for all Methodists to follow a way of life.

Does Celtic Spirituality provide all the answers for the revival of our churches in 21^st century Britain?  It may or may not, that is something I am still reflecting on both as a Christian disciple and as a Church Leader.  I will undoubtably reflect on this again when I return from Lindisfarne, so you can expect another reflection in mid June. 

In the meantime I hope that the congregations I am leaving in July can reflect on how at least some of what I am writing can be of benefit to them, whilst I reflect how I can take all this forward on the path God is leading me on.

Sabbatical Reflection 6: Ascension Day for Today

Acts 1: 1-11

In my former book, Theophilus, I wrote about all that Jesus began to do and to teach ² until the day he was taken up to heaven, after giving instructions through the Holy Spirit to the apostles he had chosen. ³After his suffering, he presented himself to them and gave many convincing proofs that he was alive. He appeared to them over a period of forty days and spoke about the kingdom of God. ⁴ On one occasion, while he was eating with them, he gave them this command: “Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised, which you have heard me speak about.⁵ For John baptised  with water, but in a few days you will be baptised with the Holy Spirit.”

⁶ Then they gathered around him and asked him, “Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?”

⁷ He said to them: “It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority. ⁸But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

⁹ After he said this, he was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight.

¹⁰ They were looking intently up into the sky as he was going, when suddenly two men dressed in white stood beside them.¹¹ “Men of Galilee,” they said, “why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven.”

 

Reflection

You may remember my starting my last reflection by commenting that “the progression of Sundays has largely passed me by since Easter Day”, but for some reason I was very aware that not only is today Ascension Day, but that there is a real connection between that event and the circumstances the church is facing right now in 21^st century England.

My reflection is partly informed by my latest Sabbatical reading, How to Lead When You Don’t Know Where You Are Going by Susan Beaumont; a book recommended to us on the Superintendent’s Training Course.

Its subtitled, Leading in a Liminal Season.  The author defines liminality in this context as “a quality of ambiguity or disorientation that occurs during transition, when a person or group of people is between something that has ended and something else that is not yet ready to begin.”

I would argue that the disciples were in a liminal season at the time of the Ascension of Jesus, a liminality that continued until the day of Pentecost when the Holy Spirit came to them as a wind, alighting on them as tongues of fire.

That liminal season for them arguably began with Jesus’ arrest in the Garden of Gethsemane.  From that moment on Jesus’ disciples were disorientated, thinking that everything they had hoped for had come to an end.

Then came resurrection, and new hope as they met the risen Jesus, who appeared suddenly on several occasions and vanished just as suddenly.  Something new had happened that filled them with hope, but they didn’t quite understand it.  They didn’t know how to fully react to it: they were between something new that was ending and something new that was to begin. 

Their confusion is clear in their words as Jesus prepared for his Ascension: “Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?”

The disciples were still thinking in terms of an earthly Kingdom, still failing to understand the new thing Jesus had for them to do.

Jesus tells them, “It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority.  But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”  Then he vanishes.

Jesus’ words tell them what they will be doing, witnessing, but I don’t think they fully understand what that means and how they should go about it until they are filled with the Holy Spirit.  Once they are the Christian Church is born with an initial membership of around 3,000, according to Acts 2:41.

The church in the UK is in a liminal season right now.  Liminal seasons happen every so often in the life of the church, both locally as well as nationally and internationally.

Locally times of liminality are often cause by a change of Minister, not just in those few short weeks between one leaving and another arriving, but in the weeks either side as one Minister’s influence begins to fade once it is known they are leaving, and the new Minister’s ideas and leadership become known. It can be the same for Methodist Circuits when there is a change of Superintendent.

Nationally I would suggest that the church is in a season of liminality, liminality stemming from the Covid-19 epidemic that has dramatically affected all our lives in various ways since March 2020.  We entered the first lockdown so quickly that we had no time to think about how we would worship together when we couldn’t meet and what it meant to be church.

We found ways to do it, with service sheets being sent out to people and services on Facebook, YouTube and, of course, Zoom.  I think the phrase of the past year is, “turn your microphone on”.

We are coming out of lockdown now, hopefully for the final time and we look forward to things getting back to normal, or what some people are calling the new normal.  As churches we are still in the liminal season, because we don’t yet know what the “new normal”, the immediate future will look like.

Do we resume doing what we’ve always done, with the same styles of worship and orders of service as we had before?  Do we resurrect all the coffee mornings and Bible studies and fellowship groups?  Do we have hybrid church, a combination of worship in church buildings and worship online?  Do we finally abandon some of the stultifying traditions that have held the church back for so long?  How do we approach the future we don’t yet know?

I believe that like those first disciples who God used to bring about the birth of the Christian Church we must wait, listening to God and trying to discern God’s will as we do so.  We must wait for the Holy Spirit to come us and guide us towards the new normal for the church.  If we listen and wait faithfully the Holy Spirit will indeed guide us and lead us as we faithfully seek to follow Christ in the 2020s and beyond.

In first century Judea those first disciples waited in faith and the Church exploded into being with 3,000 new disciples: what might be possible for the Church today if we follow the leading of the Holy Spirit?

 

Sabbatical Reflection - Vocation

Even though I’ve been attending worship, mostly online, throughout my Sabbatical the progression of Sundays has largely passed me by since Easter Day and so it was a pleasant surprise to discover that today is Vocations Sunday in the Methodist Church; which in turn has set off a whole train of thought.

I must admit to having had some trepidation about starting Sabbatical having known Presbyter colleagues who were profoundly affected by it in terms of their feeling of vocation and call to ordained ministry.   

In the case of some of them it was quite mild in the sense that they decided to go into Stationing and move to a new Circuit when they’d previously been thinking of applying for an extension; something I knew wouldn’t now apply to me since I’m moving in August anyway.

For some it has been more traumatic and life changing because whilst spending the time contemplating and reflecting, they have realised that either the call to ordained ministry has gone, or that they maybe feel the time has come to move out of Circuit ministry and take up something like hospital chaplaincy.  Sometimes the result of slowing down is that we hear God more clearly and sense that God has something new planned for us.  Sadly, for a few, Sabbatical brings a realisation of complete exhaustion and nothing more to give and can result in early retirement.

Conversations have suggested that these thigs can happen to the ordained across various denominations who take Sabbatical.

I was concerned by how Sabbatical might affect me, especially as I have agreed to move in August and, subject to confirmation by the Methodist Conference, become the new Superintendent of Burnley and Pendle Circuit.

So far, as I approach the mid-point of Sabbatical my concerns have proved to be groundless.  If anything I am more certain than ever of my call to Presbyteral Ministry in the Methodist Church: that call is at least as strong as it was in 2011 when around this time the Connexion confirm that I could enter training as a Student Presbyter in the September of that year.  It is as strong as it was when I started as a Probationer Presbyter in Wharfedale & Aireborough Circuit.  It is as strong as it was when I was ordained in Coventry Central Hall on 29^th June 2014.

I’m sure of this because whilst I’m enjoying the different pace of life that Sabbatical brings, I am also missing undertaking those core things that are essential in the call of a Presbyter and that we promise to faithfully do at our Ordination Service.

In the Ordination Service we are charged, in God’s name:

• To preach by word and deed the Gospel of God’s grace.
• To declare God’s forgiveness of sins to all who are penitent
• To baptise, to confirm.
• To preside at the celebration of the sacrament of Christ’s body and blood.
• To lead God’s people on worship, prayer and service.
• To minister Christ’s love and compassion
• To serve others, in whom you serve the Lord himself.

Most of these things I cannot do whilst on Sabbatical, certainly not those that involve Sunday or mid-week worship, though I hope that even whilst distanced from my usual church responsibilities I am, none the less, preaching the Gospel by deed, in the way I live my life and treat and serve others day to day showing Christ’s love and compassion.

I can genuinely say that the longer I am on Sabbatical the more I am missing presiding at the Lord’s Supper, preaching by word (though perhaps these reflections in some way achieve that) and leading you all in worship prayer and service.  This confirms to me very much that my call to serve the Lord as a Circuit Presbyter in the Methodist Church is not only undiminished but has grown stronger.

That call has changed, though, or rather the practical outcome because it has genuinely become a call to Circuit Superintendency.  This specific calling to Superintendency is something I’ve been discreetly discussing with a number of trusted people for some months, indeed it was a trusted friend and District colleague who suggested that certain feelings and promptings I was having might be such a call.  It is quite correctly said that a call to ministry isn’t a certain call until confirmed by the church, and the request to move to Burnley and Pendle Circuit to become their new Superintendent was my confirmation of this calling.

As a Presbyter I know how incredibly fortunate I am to have this gift of three months Sabbatical to take the time to withdraw from the busyness of regular Circuit Ministry to think and contemplate and listen to God.  I pray that you too will be able to find some space in your life to contemplate what vocation God may be calling you to, both within the church (Local Preacher?  Church Steward?  Circuit Steward?  Youth Leader? Etc) and perhaps outside the church (a multitude of careers and professions) so that you can spread the Gospel of Jesus Christ to those you encounter in the way you live and the way you interact with others.

Sabbatical Reflection 4 - Personal Change & Growth?

 One of the things that Sabbatical seems to bring about, or at least it has in my case, is a period of self-reflection and examination.  I have just finished a book about Sabbatical, and it suggests that discovering new things about self is one of the benefits of taking time out from the regular activities of life. 

One of the things I have realised this past week is something that came as somewhat of a surprise to me, and it may do to even those who know me quite well.  For well over forty years I have bought, read and collected American superhero comics, with my favourite characters being Superman and Batman.   I have a vast collection, probably in the thousands by now and until a few days ago thought that this collecting would continue well into old age.

Earlier this week I suddenly realised that I’d lost interest in the colourful exploits of America’s finest.  I was still buying, reading and collecting, but the joy has gone out of it.

I’m still reflecting on why.  

Perhaps it’s that the newer generation of writers and stories don’t appeal or perhaps I’ve just grown and changed (dare I say matured?) so that what once brought me pleasure no longer does so.  Perhaps it’s my growing interest in my model railway hobby and the realisation that my personal financial resources are limited.

Whatever it is, it’s a realisation that has come to me because the church has given me the gift of being able to step aside from my regular life and responsibilities and take the time to study, think and reflect.  Perhaps the realisation has come from the change that Sabbatical often brings to the lives of those who take it seriously.  

At the beginning of my Sabbatical I dedicated it in prayer to God and I wonder what else our loving Heavenly Father will reveal to me and how he will bless me in the two months I have left before returning to Circuit life and responsibilities. 

Sabbatical Reflection- Our Plans and God’s Plans

At the moment, in my Sabbatical, I am reading an inspirational book, Sabbath: The Hidden Heartbeat of Our Lives by Nicola Slee who is the Director of Research at the Queen’s Foundation, Birmingham, where all Methodist Presbyters and Deacons are now trained (alongside Anglicans). 

It is not a book to be rushed, but to be read slowly, thought about and savoured.  A book full of wisdom to be contemplated.  I’m currently about a third of the way through it and already wishing I had read it as my first Sabbatical book.  Although the book is entitled Sabbath, it is as much about Sabbatical 

This morning one particular paragraph has struck me that I wanted to share with you.  The author is writing in the context of the benefits of spending time in nature, whether that be by lakes or rivers, by the sea or in a wood or forest. “Sabbath is the invitation into the free, wild space where we may play with the magic of the woods, explore off the beaten paths, enter the unbounded space of our hearts and imagination.  It’s the invitation to pursue the ideas or reading that we didn’t plan to do, to think outside the box; to follow leads hunches or dreams that weren’t part of our original Sabbatical agenda.  It is the entry into the freefall of sabbatical were the normal rules fall away and we enter a time and space more organic, more spontaneous, full of serendipity and unexpected synchronicities.” 

If you read my previous reflection, you’ll know that my Sabbatical has already gone off course.  I should have been on a plane today, on my way back from the Holy Land: instead I’m sitting in the Manse in Oswaldtwistle reading and reflecting. 

There is a saying that the best way to amuse God is to tell God your plans.  I wonder if that is particularly applicable to Sabbatical.

Of course, the Methodist Church quite rightly expects its Presbyters and Deacons to have some kind of plan for Sabbatical; but like Stuart Smith last year my plans have had to change. 

I did feel frustrated about the changes, yet as I read Nicola Slee’s words “It is the entry into the freefall of sabbatical were the normal rules fall away and we enter a time and space more organic, more spontaneous, full of serendipity and unexpected synchronicities” I realised that is exactly what is happening. 

As I have relaxed into Sabbatical, and it has taken me a couple of weeks to fully unwind, I have discovered the reality of those words.  I had a reading list of books I wanted to study whilst released from my normal responsibilities as a Presbyter, books on leadership in preparation for September and my move to become Circuit Superintendent of Burnley and Pendle, books about Jesus and the historical context in which he preached and healed and books about pilgrimage.  Nicola Slee’s book wasn’t on it but recommended by a Minister friend.  It was a serendipitous recommendation, exactly what I need right now and if God sends other unexpected surprises my way before 20^th June I will welcome and embrace them. 

I think, though, that there is a wider principle here that can apply well beyond Sabbatical or even Sabbath, and that is the idea that as Christians we should apply the freefall of Sabbatical to our journey of discipleship, at least some of the time. 

We all, I think, make plans for our lives.  My plan for my life didn’t include being ordained as a Methodist Presbyter and yet I honesty couldn’t now see myself doing anything else.  Again, I had a plan in mind for my service as a Presbyter: a five-year stint in my first Circuit, followed by 5-8 years in my second before offering for Superintendency.  That plan has been laid aside as well because God had something else in mind.  When it comes to Christian discipleship and my service to God as a Presbyter, I have learnt that it doesn’t make much sense to plan too far ahead because God may well have other ideas.  

In Jeremiah 29:11 we read “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord.”  It is easy to take this verse out of context and read too much into it, but it does convey the general idea that God has plans for us.  That isn’t to suggest that we should never make plans, but rather that we must always be open to the idea that God might have something different in mind. 

So, as I continue on Sabbatical I will stick to the new plan, to visit Lindisfarne in June but perhaps other places as well, to read the books on the list but to be open to being diverted to others, to build some model railway wagons but to be open to other creative opportunities. 

As Christians I believe it is good for us to have our plans, as individuals and as churches, but we must be willing to hold onto them lightly and to move as we feel the Holy Spirit leading us.

The Hope of Easter

By the time you read this I will be on Sabbatical.  It’s not the Sabbatical I had planned.  I had intended to start with a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, leaving appropriately on Easter Monday, but Covid-19 has made that an impossibility.  Part of my Sabbatical was based around developing a hobby, in my case starting to build a model railway.  As I’m moving this summer to take up a Circuit Superintendency (subject to Methodist Conference) I won’t be starting to build a model railway in my present Manse. 

I will be staying on Lindisfarne towards the end of my Sabbatical, which I’m looking forward to as a form of pilgrimage, I will be doing some theological reading and I will be building model railway kits in preparation for building the model railway, but it’s not what I hoped for or planned. 

I think it’s fair to say that Covid-19 has disrupted al our lives and plans in the past year or so.  We couldn’t even worship in our churches on Easter Day last year and we have been out of our church buildings on Sundays more than we have been in them. 

Fortunately the Covid-19 vaccines have brought us some hope for the future, hope that, by the summer, our society will be approaching something like normal, or at least a new normal.  Hope that we may even be able to sing together in church and enjoy tea or coffee together after the service.  Hope that our social activities can re-start and we can enjoy the fellowship we have missed so much. 

Hope!  Hope is a very good word for this time of Easter. 

Just before the first Easter Day the world seemed to be a very dark place indeed.  Jesus, the Light of the World, has apparently been murdered on a Roman cross, his light snuffed out.  It seemed that the forces of darkness had won. 

Then, on that first Easter Day, light blazed from the tomb where Jesus dead body had been laid: because Jesus was dead no longer: he had been raised from the dead in great power and glory, the hope of the world who would be with us always. 

The resurrection of Jesus is our hope that we too will one day receive the eternal life promised by Jesus.  Jesus resurrection demonstrates the truth that for those who believe in him death is not the end but the transition from our limited mortal lives to unlimited eternal lives.  We have the hope that our lives do not end with death but go on forever if we place our faith, trust and hope in Jesus as our Saviour and Lord.

We have hope for the future because Jesus rose from death and is alive.  That is what all the Resurrection accounts in the four gospels tell us: that somehow by the power of God Jesus who was dead was raised from death in a new way. 

Yet we still have our fears.  Perhaps the fear of catching Covid-19 and becoming seriously ill, or even dying, has diminished or even passed, but there are others.  We are, perhaps, fearful of what will happen when the Coronavirus has passed, and restrictions eased.  Many lives will have been lost, jobs will have disappeared, companies will have folded, churches will have closed and some hopes for the future will have come to nothing. 

Jesus’ disciples would have had similar fears, fears about what the future would bring.  Then Jesus came and stood amongst them, gloriously alive, proving who he was by showing them his hands and his side, still bearing the marks of crucifixion. 

Jesus had been raised from the dead.  He was standing before them, leaving them in no doubt. 

Even Thomas, who was not with them the first time Jesus appeared to them, did not doubt when he saw Jesus standing before them, falling on his knees and crying out, “My Lord and my God.” 

Sometimes people ask me how I can be so sure that Jesus physically rose from the dead to glorious resurrection life.  I always point to the change in the disciples, who were more or less overnight transformed from men crippled by fear of death to men who went out onto the streets of Jerusalem, risking their lives to proclaim that Jesus had risen.  These were men who bravely went to their own deaths as martyrs, convinced that even death itself was no barrier to the promises and love of God. 

On the evening of that first Easter Day a situation of apparent hopelessness was turned into one of immense hope as fear was replaced by joy and confidence. 

Eventually the Coronavirus crisis will be over and life will return to a new state of normal.  The challenge for us as Christians right now is to see beyond our present worries and concerns about coronavirus and what happens immediately when the crisis is over and to focus on the infinite, to see in the resurrection of Jesus a hope that transcends our current situation and rejoice in the ultimate victory of hope over despair, light over darkness and life over death which Easter brought. 

John’s gospel ends with these words, “there are also many other things that Jesus did; if every one of them were written down, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.”  Jesus story continues this day, through our lives and the lives of our sisters and brothers in Christ.  Jesus resurrection is an absolute assurance that his story will continue for eternity and that, as his disciples, our stories too will go on forever.

Sabbatical Reflection / Book Review - Sustaining Leadership by Paul Swann

This reflection is part theological reflection and part book review based around Paul Swann’s excellent book, Sustaining Leadership (You Are More Important than Your Ministry).

 

In many ways the early days of Sabbatical was exactly the right time to read this book, as it focuses so much on the reasons why the Methodist Church gives the gift of Sabbatical to its Presbyters and Deacons.  It is written by an Anglican Priest who was forced to retire early from Parish Ministry after suffering from total fatigue.

 

Even before I started reading this fact started off an important train of thought: that if I either force myself to work harder and harder to meet the expectations of the people in the churches I serve, or if I push myself to do more and more for God and keep doing so until I reach the point of breakdown or exhaustion then I’m not doing myself or anybody else any favours.  I know and know of too many Methodist Ministers (and one or two Anglican Priests) whose ministry has been cut short through complete exhaustion, or mental breakdown, or both.  In some cases, it is because the church has expected too much of them, but in others it’s because they have expected too much of themselves.

 

Part one of the book is entitled “Disintegration” and focuses on the author’s personal journey.  Personal testimony like this is always helpful as one can see points of similarity but also points of difference that led to reflection.  The three chapters in this section are a moving account of the author waking up one morning feeling physically and mentally exhausted and of having to take the difficult decision to resign from parish ministry because he just couldn’t do it anymore.

 

This, in itself, made me pause.  Let me assure anybody reading this that I don’t think I am in any danger of mental breakdown or physical exhaustion, but the possibility that any Ordained person’s ministry could end in this way gave me pause for thought. God doesn’t call anybody to ordained ministry only for us to burn ourselves out.  God loves us too much for that and there is a difference between sacrificial ministry and nearly killing yourself serving God and the church.  Jesus commanded us to love others as we love ourselves.  We often overlook the second half of the sentence.  If we are not loving ourselves and taking care of ourselves, what quality of love and care are we offering to others?

 

The author goes on, in the next two chapters, to talk about how he learned a new dependence on God.  Our human pride often gets in the way of acknowledging and realising that we depend on God for everything.  This is a truth we find hard to accept; that without God we are nothing and can do nothing.  All our efforts to serve God will fail unless we rely totally on God and on God’s strength alone.  We all know that in theory, but we have to truly accept it in our hearts if we are to serve God faithfully and effectively.

 

In the third chapter the author talks about the need for Christian leaders to be personally vulnerable, and I’ll quote him directly here:

“Vulnerability is about the choice to no longer hide behind a mask of protection, but to let our wounds show.  We dare to say, ‘I’m weak. I’m broken. I’m fragile.  I’ve failed.  But I’m still me and I’m still loved.’”

 

He also writes a little later:

“when we take the risk of embracing fragility by choosing to be vulnerable, we allow our wounds to show, as Jesus did in his resurrection appearances.”

 

This is an important message for those of us who are Christian leaders, whether lay or ordained.  We are perhaps most effective when we allow our vulnerabilities to be seen by others.  Of course, this is risky, because even in the church there are those who will try to exploit what they see as weakness in others to pursue their own selfish agenda: but any such risk is outweighed by far by the benefits that our being vulnerable can bring to others.

 

I remember being given a huge compliment during my first few months as a Probationer Presbyter.  A member of my largest congregation said she and others liked my sermons because I was willing to share with them the times when I’d got things wrong and the times I failed.  Another said that they could never really say they knew the previous two Ministers, but that they knew me.

 

I hope that my present congregations would say the same.

 

The other thing I picked up from this third chapter was the phrase “nothing is required of you.”  The author expands on this, writing, “We will still have to do lists, but we can youare……. Some things can wait, some things can be passed on and some things can even be done less than perfectly or left undone.”

 

Another phrase comes to mind, “lack of preparation on the part of another does not and should not constitute an emergency for me.”

 

God created us to be human beings rather than human doings.  We should not be defined by what we do but by our relationship with God, which must be the primary focus of our being.  We perhaps understand ourselves best when we understand ourselves in relation to God.

 

Part two of Sustaining Leadership is entitled “Reintegration” and contains lots of helpful, useful and God inspired ideas for sustaining ministry.  I don’t want to give everything away because I would suggest every Christian in a leadership position, both ordained and lay, would benefit from all the wisdom in its 150 pages. These include taking a proper Sabbath Day ever week (since God gave the Sabbath as a gift to us), learning how to say no and not filling diaries to unrealistic levels and being aware of the things lurking beneath the surface that can capsize us or stop us completely.

 

This is a really worthwhile read for anybody who is already in a Christian leadership role and for anybody who is going to be taking such a role.  Its certainly a good book to read at the start of Sabbatical.

A Reflection on the Call of the First Disciples

Mark 1: 14-20

Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news[a] of God, and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near;[c] repent, and believe in the good news.” 

As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen.  And Jesus said to them, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.”  And immediately they left their nets and followed him. 

As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets.  Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men and followed him.

REFLECTION

Today’s gospel reading tells us of the call of Simon and Andrew and then James and John.  Jesus comes up to them as they are going about their everyday business and says, “Come, follow me.”  This is important.  Jesus doesn’t say, “Listen to what I say and do it.”  Jesus doesn’t say, “Come and listen to me and learn from me.”  Jesus says, “Come, follow me.”  That me is very, very important.  Jesus isn’t just inviting these simple fishermen to learn from him and find out more about him: Jesus is inviting them to get to know him as a person; he is inviting them into a personal relationship with him.

It is very easy to know a lot about a person without really knowing that person personally.  I’ve recently finished a very good biography of John Wesley.  I know something of his early life in Epworth, how he was rescued from a fire at an early age and that his father often had problems with debt.  I know he was a dedicated student in Oxford and about his unfruitful time in America.  I know of his experience in Alders gate when his “heart was strangely warmed”.  I know he prayed daily for four hours, travelled many thousands of miles during his itinerant preaching ministry.  I know of his concerns for the poor and needy.  I could go on but I think you get the idea.  I know lots and lots of things about John Wesley but in no way could I say I know him as a person, that I have a personal relationship with him.  I know a lot about John Wesley, but I don’t have a personal relationship with him.

Sadly this is the kind of relationship some people in the church have with Jesus.  They know about Jesus, they have read the gospels, been impressed by his words, wondered at his miracles and even humbled by his death on the cross.  They know all the facts about Jesus life, but they don’t know Jesus; they don’t have that personal relationship with him.

I was brought up in the church.  I attended Sunday school from age three and was confirmed age thirteen.  I knew a lot about Jesus, but I didn’t know Jesus personally: I didn’t know that I could.

When I was 20 I had the opportunity to attend a Christian youth camp at Hollybush Farm in North Yorkshire.  I went to the evening worship service on Saturday, which was taken by a very gifted young evangelist.  His name was Roy Crowne and he’s now the Director of Youth For Christ.  He spoke to us about something I’d never heard before, about the need for confession and repentance; about the fact that nothing I could do would earn me salvation, no matter how good I was but that salvation was a gift from God given to all who accepted Jesus as Saviour and Lord: about the possibility of a personal relationship with Jesus.  When I heard Roy Crowne preach about salvation and having a personal relationship with Jesus I suddenly knew I wanted that salvation and a personal relationship with Jesus more than anything else in the world.  Just as Jesus called his disciples from their fishing boats to enter into a personal relationship with him and follow him, so he was using the mouth of Roy Crowne to call me into a personal relationship with him and follow him.

It wasn’t enough to hear that call though; I had to do something about it.  Jesus had called me personally and that hit me right in the heart, but that wasn’t enough.  Jesus said to those disciples on the shore of Galilee, “Come, follow me.”  Now if they’d heard that call but stayed in their boats not much would have happened, other than Jesus going away disappointed.   When Jesus calls us into a personal relationship with him we need to do something, but what?  How do we enter into this personal relationship with him?  How do we go from knowing about him to knowing him personally?

The answer to this question is given in our passage.  Jesus said, “Repent and believe the good news.”  This is what we have to do, not just once but continually throughout our lives.  We have to repent and believe the good news and ask Jesus into our hearts.  Repentance doesn’t just mean we feel a bit guilty about out sin and say sorry, it means changing direction in our lives.  Many people think they have repented when they’ve confessed their sins to God and asked for his forgiveness.  No, that is not repentance at all.  When we repent, when we truly repent we turn our lives away from all that is sinful, all that is unloving and against the will of God.    Repentance is turning our lives around and going off in another direction, in the direction Jesus leads us..    At Hollybush farm all those years ago I determined to turn my back on the wrong things in my life, make Jesus the Lord of my life and heart and obey him.  At Hollybush farm I really believed and understood for the first time the good news, that Jesus died on the cross in my place; that his resurrection proved everything he said was true and gives me the hope of eternal life.  At Hollybush farm I prayed and told Jesus I didn’t just want to know about him, I wanted to know him personally and follow him.

That prayer changed everything.  It’s hard to explain exactly what changed, but when I read the gospels I was no longer just absorbing facts, I was hearing Jesus speaking to my heart.  I truly felt I was getting to know the Jesus who is alive today, and not just a historical figure from long ago.  Simon and Andrew heard that invitation long ago from Jesus and accepted his call to follow.  Many men and women for the last two thousand years have heard Jesus call and experienced that personal relationship with him.  That personal relationship is available to any human being who is prepared to repent, believe the good news and follow Jesus.

But having repented and believed the good news and asked Jesus to our friend, what comes next?  What do we do as a result of our personal relationship with Jesus.  What does it mean?

Deciding to follow Jesus means that we decide to make him Lord of our lives and hearts.  It means that we obey him and try to live lives that are pleasing to God, lives that are full of the fruits of the Holy Spirit; love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control.

But there is more to following Jesus than just repentance and living as he would have us live.  There is more to the Christian life than worship and prayer, than reading the Bible and fellowship with our Brothers and Sisters in Christ, though all these things are important.  The clue to this is in our passage.  Jesus calls Andrew and Simon to, “Come, follow me”.  Following Jesus means entering into that personal relationship, it means praying and worship and all the rest.  But Jesus doesn’t just call those men to follow him, he adds, “and I will make you fishers of men”.  He doesn’t just call them to follow him; he calls them to perform a specific task for him, to become “fishers of men”.

Jesus has a specific thing, or things, which he wants each of us to do for him.  Sometimes he gives us a lifelong task.  Other times he gives us something he wants us to do for a short time before moving on to something else.  To paraphrase the Apostle Paul, “Some of us are called to be ordained as ministers, others to the office of local preacher; some are appointed to be Church Stewards whilst others are called to join the church choir or music group.  Still others are called to prepare food and drinks, to wash up or to set the chairs out for the service.  Others still are made to be pastoral visitors or to help in the church office or to be property stewards.”

When God created us he gave us each unique gifts and qualities that he wants us to use in his service.  The things we are good at give us a clue as to the specific task Jesus wants us to do for him.  Unless we are either very new Christians or unable to serve God through ill health or age, God has a very specific task he wants each and every Christian to do for him.  We cannot earn our salvation by working for God, of course, we must never forget that as salvation is a free gift from God to us; but we can show our gratitude to God by undertaking the task that Jesus gives to us.

What is God calling you to do?  God does not want any of us to just come to church on a Sunday, worship him, pray and listen to his word.  Yes he does want us to do that because he takes real joy and delight in our worship, but he also wants us to undertake the specific task he has for each of us.  Is God calling you to become a local preacher?  Is God calling you to offer your services as a worship leader?  Is God calling you to join the choir, or become a Church Steward, or join the catering team?  God calls each and every one of us to a specific task and If we are willing to undertake that specific task for him and ask him in prayer what it is he wants us to do, then he will make it clear to us.

Jesus said to the disciples, “Come, follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.”  We are told that “At once they left their nets and followed him.”  It seems such a little thing to do to leave their nets and go with Jesus.  But what that passage is telling us is that they gave up being fishermen and followed Jesus.  They closed down their business and went and followed Jesus.  They gave up their livelihoods and went and followed Jesus.  Discipleship isn’t free; there is a cost to following Jesus.

Later in Mark’s gospel Jesus tells us, “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.  For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it.”  Jesus is totally honest with those who will follow him.  Our salvation a gift of God, there is nothing at all that we can do to earn it; but there is a cost to accepting that salvation by repenting and believing the good news and accepting Jesus invitation to “Come, follow me.”

The initial cost to Simon and Andrew was that they lost their fishing business, a guaranteed source of regular income.  Later they incurred a much greater cost as the result of following Jesus; according to Christian tradition it cost them their very lives.  The Apostle Paul paid a heavy price for deciding to heed Jesus’ call.  He suffered beatings and imprisonment, he was attacked by mobs and he too gave his life for Jesus.  History is full of examples of people who have paid the ultimate price for their faith in Jesus.  It is a fact that there were more Christian martyrs in the twentieth century than in the previous nineteen centuries combined.

We are relatively lucky in Great Britain at the moment.  It is highly unlikely that anybody here in this church today will have to give our lives for Jesus.  But being a Christian in 21st Britain isn’t always easy and we may have to make sacrifices or suffer for our faith in Jesus.  Some of us will have non-Christian friends and colleagues who will criticise us for taking a stand on certain issues that runs contrary to the dreaded politically correct attitude.  Those of us who believe in keeping Sunday special and think that only essential jobs should be done may suffer loss of earnings or pressure at work to conform and ‘do our share’ of Sunday working.  Christians are called to be holy, to stand apart from society and conform to what God wants, not to what society demands and society hates those who are different.  Even in this country it takes courage to be a Christian and can involves suffering as a result.

There is a price to pay for being Christian, but it is more than outweighed by the reward, the reward of being reconciled with God, the reward of a personal relationship with Jesus, the reward of eternal life.

Two thousand years ago Jesus called Simon and Andrew to repent and believe the good news.  He said to them, “Come, follow me and I will make you fishers of men.”  Jesus calls us to repent and believe the good news, he calls us to follow him and enter into a personal relationship with him and he calls us to perform a specific task for him.  We must be ever ready to respond to his call and serve him, no matter what the cost to ourselves.

Let us pray:

Heavenly Father, Lord God Almighty.  Just as Jesus called to Simon and Andrew on the shore of Galilee to “Come, follow me”; so he has called each of us to come and follow him.  Just as Jesus gave Simon and Andrew the special task of becoming ‘fishers of men’ so he has called each of us to do a special task for you.    Please help us to know Jesus personally as our Saviour, Lord and friend.  Please strengthen us to serve you in our daily lives and to be faithful to Jesus calling, no matter what the cost to ourselves.  We pray in the name and for the sake of Jesus, our Lord.

Amen