iGod

Finding faith is meant to be simple

When I was a young teenager all I wanted to do was to be in a band. My first performance, outside my own bedroom, was with a little known four-piece band called Sub Division. I had borrowed a jacket akin to the one worn by Adam Ant in the early years and felt like the bees knees.

The problem was the music was not that hot. I recall that we did a version of The Damned’s Neat, Neat, Neat that was quite simply bad, bad, bad. Not least because the only way I could get in the band was by replacing the bass player who left due to musical difficulties as opposed to differences.

The trouble was I hadn’t really had time to learn any of the songs, but in the spirit of ‘76 none of that seemed to matter. We all took ourselves far too seriously, of course, but for some reason people liked us. Honestly, it was a surreal experience.

As the years progressed I managed to master the guitar a little more competently and have been privileged to play with better bands.

Alas, though, these days are now far behind me, along with much of the hair, make-up and attitude, but every once in a while I will get a phone call from old friends and hang out together.

Now, this feels funny, to say the least. None more so than when they discover I am now a church pastor. Not very rock and roll.

So you might ask why would anyone want to become a Christian? Something dramatic has got to happen, hasn’t it? You’d be dead right.

The plain honest, undressed-up, down-to-earth truth is that I encountered God in the most unexpected way. For the sake of saving space here, I simply cried out after one bad Saturday night, “Oh God, help!” and was heard.

It’s hard to explain the full extent of this experience, but that night everything started to slowly change: how I saw myself, how I saw life, how I saw others, how I saw God. Admittedly, it sounds a tad cheesy, but I discovered an unexpected joy in Christ. And it really took me totally by surprise.

A lot has happened in the last twenty years, but I believe it is no harder discovering God today than it was then if we want to seek him out.

In the very early years of Punk there was a short-lived but lovingly produced fanzine called Sniffing Glue. One of its more famous front covers showed three guitar chords with a headline underneath: “Now form a band.” The philosophy was that anyone could do it. The bar was set very low. It was attractive to us.

In the same way when Vineyard Churches, my own denomination, started writing worship songs some 30 odd years ago it made a point of just using three guitar chords, so everyone of limited talent could learn to pick up an instrument and play them easily. They were intentionally very simple and non-wordy ‘love songs’ to God. They also made it okay to come to church in shorts, t-shirt and flip-flops.

Finding the reality of God is meant to be simple and accessible. It is straightforward and profound, but it takes a lifetime to explore its fullness and joy.

God is still to be found in the most surprising ways, as some of the guys at our church will tell you. However wanting to find God is another matter. It may mean putting aside our image, our pride and recognising we need more than a human-made solution. Now that makes us vulnerable, but I tell you, it is worth the risk.

ASD

Dreaming the Impossible - it all starts today!

Today hundreds of young people from our East Anglia area and other areas across the country will be setting off for Lincolnshire Agricultural Showground as Dreaming the Impossible (DTI) starts.

DTI, the national Vineyard youth, which goes on all weekend, is all about seeing the next generation encounter and walk with Jesus, being equipped to live in the reality of the Kingdom of God.

Over the last five years the ever-popular and growing youth event has been on an amazing journey, seeing God gather and transform young people from throughout the movement. God has been so generous as we have seen His Kingdom first hand.

For those to old to attend, please pray that the Lord blesses them and does amazing things this weekend. Pray for reasonable weather and for their safety.

Rooted in Good Soil - a day conference with Tri Robinson

Join other Vineyard churches in the East Anglia Area for an exciting Spring conference called Rooted in Good Soil with Tri Robinson at the Athenaeum in Bury St Edmunds on Saturday 19 May, 10am-4pm.

Tri is senior pastor of Boise Vineyard, Idaho, USA and will be helping us dsicover what it means to cultivate and sustain authentic life of discipleship. 

Tri Robinson describes the theme of this conference as “a creative way of walking people through the authentic Christian journey from an initial place of brokenness leading to repentance (good soil is broken and cultivated) and then to a place of productive harvest”.

Price only £5 if you register before the day (£7 on the door).  Pick up a flyer on Sunday from your church or book online now.

Limited seats, so booking early is advised. Don't miss out!

CS Lewis quote

"In science we have been reading only the notes to a poem; in Christianity we find the poem itself." - C. S. Lewis

Easter is not just for the religious type

A local vicar and pastor stood by the side of the road holding up a sign that said, "The End is Near! Turn yourself around now before it's too late!"

"Leave us alone, you religious nuts!" yelled a driver as he sped by. Then from around the bend they heard a big splash.

"Do you think," said one clergy to the other, "we should just put up a sign that says, 'bridge down' instead?"

I have heard people say that they are not the religious type, insinuating that, perhaps, I am.  As if I came out of my mother’s womb clutching an open Bible with a full-robed choir singing the Hallelujah Chorus by the bedside. I mean who sets out in life to be religious?

For some strange reason though a few atheist writers recently, such as Alain De Botton and Richard Holloway, find “religion” attractive. In fact, the former writer has gone so far to try and set out a religious life for non-believers. Then there is AC Grayling who has even written a bible for the atheist.

Someone once wrote, “To be is to be connected. And to be connected is to be plugged in.” The Bible states that we are all “made in the image of God”. These are both big, big statements and this is a small, small brain here that reflects upon them. Yet, life is a big experience and so I think it deserves a little of our time to dwell on the big stuff once in a while, don’t you?  And it is also okay not to have a conclusive answer in two minutes. Some things are meant to be pondered over a lifetime. Maybe even over eternity.

I guess for many people though “religion” in the UK stands for a shrinking minority of church-goers who hate gay people, resent women and despise those who have abortions, but anyone with a bit of savvy will know that this not quite the case but, of course, it makes a convenient headline.

However, personally speaking, if my faith does come across as judgmental, intolerant and exclusive, it bothers me and the finger needs to be pointed firmly back at my face.

Mahatma Gandhi once said, “Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.” Sadly, I think at times he is right. I have met many non-Christians whose conduct is better people than Christians. Religion in itself does not make anyone a better person - Christian or atheist. But, of course, choosing to follow Jesus is not principally about ethics, it has to do with an awe-inspiring divine-human relationship.

Shortly our local churches will be celebrating Easter, a time we celebrate new life in Christ through his resurrection, but maybe we could see as the time when Jesus Christ, the son of God, came as the non-religious type for the non-religious type to draw all people to himself into a real, relevant and restored relationship with God the Father.

I truly believe the message of salvation is still as powerful and pertinent as it was 2,000 years ago, because you see Jesus’ death happened in a secular setting, not in a private religious community. It was not really a religious event at all. It happened in the city of one of the busiest and most important trading outposts of the Roman Empire.

On Good Friday we remember how Jesus, isolated and with a minority following, gave his life in a divine act of love for the majority, regardless of belief or faith. Now, I am not wanting to impose my position on anyone, but I do want to put it out there to our community.

We are all free to accept or reject, but let me leave you with this last thought: did Jesus really die just to make us religious? It just doesn’t stack up for me.

Maybe see you at Stour Valley Vineyard Church 10.30 am on Easter Sunday at the Delphi Centre.

Happy Easter!

ASD

Too busy to read this? All the more reason.

This last week I just had to get things fixed.

Life was becoming stressful. My laptop was not synching with my other devices, so it meant that when I put a date in my diary it would go missing or not carry over properly.

I knew things had gone desperately wrong when I realised that I had to be in three places at one time.

So having had tinkered around on my laptop for long enough and reading various geeky online conversations, I booked an appointment to see a Technician in the Genius Bar at my nearest Apple Store. This is fancy language for saying an “in-store IT guy who knows a lot more than me”, as much as it pains me to say I hasten to add.

Looking at my diary on different devices, he asked which one was my master diary. “Haven’t a clue”, came my muffled reply.

After much clicking and sighing, he awe-inspiringly managed to bring all my various calendars together in one place. Towards the end he look up and said, “You sure have an active calendar!” Which was euphemistic for saying ,”Sheesh! I wouldn’t want your life, mate!”

We have entered the period that the Church calls Lent. It is traditionally a 40-day period when Christians spiritually prepare for Easter. It mirrors the time that Jesus spent in the Wilderness without food and water being tempted by the Devil. Christians often use the 40-day opportunity to abstain from something as part of their spiritual discipline to keep prayerfully engaged throughout the time.

It gives space to reflect on our part in Christ’s death. A time of year when we focus our thoughts on our human fragility and remember that we are “dust.” As the first book of the Bible says, “From dust we were made and from dust we shall return. We remember our capacity to be selfish, cruel and weak. And we remember that despite humanity’s great achievements, we are fragile, vulnerable human beings.

Creating time and space to reflect isn’t easy. Just recently I have begun to re-read a book called Too Busy Not to Pray. I have been waiting patiently for a sequel, To Busy to Read Too Busy Not to Pray, but alas still not forthcoming.

Prayer, he says, is an unnatural activity. We are forced to learn from an early age the rules of self-reliance and struggle to achieve self-sufficiency.  It is the complete opposite to all that we are ingrained to think and do. Therefore, making time to pray doesn’t come easily.

So what does prayer do?

Well, that’s a big question, but one of the things is achieves is a sacred space in our busy day that allows God to speak to us and we to communicate with him. It also gives us the gift of de-cluttering the mind with unimportant things that vie continuously for our attention like a demanding child.

If we take the possibility of prayer seriously the busyness of our lives may just start to improve also our emotional health. (Actually, medical research has proved this to be the case.) It will start to help us prioritise our values.

There is an old hymn by Emily May Grimes Crawford, which has the moving words: “Speak, Lord, in the stillness while I wait on Thee.  Hushed my heart, to listen in expectancy".

Where is your stillness to be found? Do you need to slow down and cool off on a few things? Because if you discover an IT techie telling you that you have a very “active diary” a reflective prayer life might just help to save you.

 

ASD

A poem for Ash Wednesday - TS Elliot

Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man's gift and that man's scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the aged eagle stretch its wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?

Because I do not hope to know again
The infirm glory of the positive hour
Because I do not think
Because I know I shall not know
The one veritable transitory power
Because I cannot drink
There, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is nothing again

Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and
I renounce the blessed face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice

And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do not hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgement not be too heavy upon us

Because these wings are no longer wings to fly
But merely vans to beat the air
The air which is now thoroughly small and dry
Smaller and dryer than the will
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still.

Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death
Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.

II

Lady, three white leopards sat under a juniper-tree
In the cool of the day, having fed to satiety
On my legs my heart my liver and that which had been contained
In the hollow round of my skull. And God said
Shall these bones live? shall these
Bones live? And that which had been contained
In the bones (which were already dry) said chirping:
Because of the goodness of this Lady
And because of her loveliness, and because
She honours the Virgin in meditation,
We shine with brightness. And I who am here dissembled
Proffer my deeds to oblivion, and my love
To the posterity of the desert and the fruit of the gourd.
It is this which recovers
My guts the strings of my eyes and the indigestible portions
Which the leopards reject. The Lady is withdrawn
In a white gown, to contemplation, in a white gown.
Let the whiteness of bones atone to forgetfulness.
There is no life in them. As I am forgotten
And would be forgotten, so I would forget
Thus devoted, concentrated in purpose. And God said
Prophesy to the wind, to the wind only for only
The wind will listen. And the bones sang chirping
With the burden of the grasshopper, saying

Lady of silences
Calm and distressed
Torn and most whole
Rose of memory
Rose of forgetfulness
Exhausted and life-giving
Worried reposeful
The single Rose
Is now the Garden
Where all loves end
Terminate torment
Of love unsatisfied
The greater torment
Of love satisfied
End of the endless
Journey to no end
Conclusion of all that
Is inconclusible
Speech without word and
Word of no speech
Grace to the Mother
For the Garden
Where all love ends.

Under a juniper-tree the bones sang, scattered and shining
We are glad to be scattered, we did little good to each other,
Under a tree in the cool of the day, with the blessing of sand,
Forgetting themselves and each other, united
In the quiet of the desert. This is the land which ye
Shall divide by lot. And neither division nor unity
Matters. This is the land. We have our inheritance.

III

At the first turning of the second stair
I turned and saw below
The same shape twisted on the banister
Under the vapour in the fetid air
Struggling with the devil of the stairs who wears
The deceitful face of hope and of despair.

At the second turning of the second stair
I left them twisting, turning below;
There were no more faces and the stair was dark,
Damp, jagged, like an old man's mouth drivelling, beyond repair,
Or the toothed gullet of an aged shark.

At the first turning of the third stair
Was a slotted window bellied like the figs's fruit
And beyond the hawthorn blossom and a pasture scene
The broadbacked figure drest in blue and green
Enchanted the maytime with an antique flute.
Blown hair is sweet, brown hair over the mouth blown,
Lilac and brown hair;
Distraction, music of the flute, stops and steps of the mind over the third stair,
Fading, fading; strength beyond hope and despair
Climbing the third stair.

Lord, I am not worthy
Lord, I am not worthy
but speak the word only.

IV

Who walked between the violet and the violet
Who walked between
The various ranks of varied green
Going in white and blue, in Mary's colour,
Talking of trivial things
In ignorance and knowledge of eternal dolour
Who moved among the others as they walked,
Who then made strong the fountains and made fresh the springs

Made cool the dry rock and made firm the sand
In blue of larkspur, blue of Mary's colour,
Sovegna vos

Here are the years that walk between, bearing
Away the fiddles and the flutes, restoring
One who moves in the time between sleep and waking, wearing

White light folded, sheathing about her, folded.
The new years walk, restoring
Through a bright cloud of tears, the years, restoring
With a new verse the ancient rhyme. Redeem
The time. Redeem
The unread vision in the higher dream
While jewelled unicorns draw by the gilded hearse.

The silent sister veiled in white and blue
Between the yews, behind the garden god,
Whose flute is breathless, bent her head and signed but spoke no word

But the fountain sprang up and the bird sang down
Redeem the time, redeem the dream
The token of the word unheard, unspoken

Till the wind shake a thousand whispers from the yew

And after this our exile

V

If the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent
If the unheard, unspoken
Word is unspoken, unheard;
Still is the unspoken word, the Word unheard,
The Word without a word, the Word within
The world and for the world;
And the light shone in darkness and
Against the Word the unstilled world still whirled
About the centre of the silent Word.

O my people, what have I done unto thee.

Where shall the word be found, where will the word
Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence
Not on the sea or on the islands, not
On the mainland, in the desert or the rain land,
For those who walk in darkness
Both in the day time and in the night time
The right time and the right place are not here
No place of grace for those who avoid the face
No time to rejoice for those who walk among noise and deny the voice

Will the veiled sister pray for
Those who walk in darkness, who chose thee and oppose thee,
Those who are torn on the horn between season and season, time and time, between
Hour and hour, word and word, power and power, those who wait
In darkness? Will the veiled sister pray
For children at the gate
Who will not go away and cannot pray:
Pray for those who chose and oppose

O my people, what have I done unto thee.

Will the veiled sister between the slender
Yew trees pray for those who offend her
And are terrified and cannot surrender
And affirm before the world and deny between the rocks
In the last desert before the last blue rocks
The desert in the garden the garden in the desert
Of drouth, spitting from the mouth the withered apple-seed.

O my people. 

 

VI

Although I do not hope to turn again
Although I do not hope
Although I do not hope to turn

Wavering between the profit and the loss
In this brief transit where the dreams cross
The dreamcrossed twilight between birth and dying
(Bless me father) though I do not wish to wish these things
From the wide window towards the granite shore
The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying
Unbroken wings

And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices
In the lost lilac and the lost sea voices
And the weak spirit quickens to rebel
For the bent golden-rod and the lost sea smell
Quickens to recover
The cry of quail and the whirling plover
And the blind eye creates
The empty forms between the ivory gates
And smell renews the salt savour of the sandy earth This is the time of tension between dying and birth The place of solitude where three dreams cross Between blue rocks But when the voices shaken from the yew-tree drift away Let the other yew be shaken and reply.

Blessed sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden,
Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks,
Our peace in His will
And even among these rocks
Sister, mother
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea,
Suffer me not to be separated

And let my cry come unto Thee.

 

ASD

Me and the Prostitute

When I was a young man I met a prostitute. No, not in that sense.

It was in the late Eighties and I had just started working in London’s glittering West End for an ad agency. Everything was new and I was still trying to get to grips with my pocket-sized London A-Z.

Thinking I would take a short cut through some back streets to get to the tube quicker I found myself going down this dimly-lit grubby street. It had been raining and so I had one of those black city-type long rolled up umbrellas. Well, I was trying to make an impression.

Walking fast I caught sight of a heavily made up girl leaning on a door way smoking a cigarette, half-bathed in red light. She was wearing, well not very much to be honest, but what she was wearing was in leopard skin print. But what really struck me were her long black suede boots. They seemed to go half way up her body. I remember thinking what an absolute picture she looked and began considering the kind of person she must be.   

Well, I lost my concentration and managed somehow get my “man about town” umbrella caught in one of my shoelaces. I began to run uncontrollably towards this lady trying to stop myself from tumbling over – but, alas, too late. I ended up slumped awkwardly face down in a puddle by her thigh length black suede boots.

I felt this hand reach down and grab mine and pull me up to my feet. My briefcase and its contents were scattered unceremoniously across the street. Not good.

“Are you alright? Can I do anything? Do you need any help? I looked up with utter embarrassment and saw something unexpected - kindness. Not for the first time that evening I had been caught unaware and wrong-footed.

I have learnt over the years, thanks to this chance encounter with a sex worker, that kindness is what makes us human. There is much in society that tries to demean its virtue and label it as the act of church-goers, do-gooders or weak people.

The Roman philosopher and emperor Marcus Aurelius declared that “kindness was mankind’s greatest delight”, but humanist thinkers such as Voltaire saw it as a weakness and argued that there was nothing in it for the individual. He vehemently disagreed with the Christian virtue of “love your neighbour as yourself.”

Nowadays this Enlightenment thinking has gone deep into our society to make us naturally suspicious of any kindly behaviour. It is often dismissed by clever people as being sentimental or moralistic.

Some say that we are only kind to each other to get something out of it for ourselves.  Maybe, but for the Christian our motivations are different. We live not for ourselves but for the pleasure of God. Again, not a popular concept in a secular individualist society. Yet in that place, personal fulfillment and life purpose has a chance to go deeper than if we just live for our own ends.

Admittedly there is vulnerability in doing acts of kindness, but it is a risk we take. We learn to take on board “the greatest commandment” given by Jesus: “love the Lord your God, with all your heart, with all your mind, with all your soul and with all your strength.” And along with that, “love your neighbour as yourself.”

Now it may seem a foolish thing to believe in today’s culture but, hey, seeing today’s society as it is, I think I’ll take my chances and be a kind fool for Christ and see where it takes me.

ASD

Starting the year well and all that jazz

(Article by ASD reproduced from the Sudbury Mercury newspaper)

Around the New Year I was visiting family in Hastings and went for a walk on a particularly wet and windy day. Traipsing through the soggy half-closed streets in the old town I noticed a scruffy looking arrow sign for a Retro Shop. I felt it needed following. Now calling something retro means we can admire old junk and feel good about it or, if you prefer a kinder definition, it’s coolness on a budget.

What happened next was totally unexpected. On entering the small, dull-lit shop I saw staring at me in the vinyl records section a long-forgotten favourite LP (Long Player for the download generation).

The record was called All Star Festival, a compilation of jazz songs put together in 1963 to raise funds for United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR).

There is a particular track on it from ‘the first lady of song’, Ella Fitzgerald, called All of Me. Now I know I am being objectionably subjective, but it has to be the best ever version of the Marks and Simon classic. It has the most amazing vocal arrangement and a startling performance to match. Quite frankly, there’s not much not to like?

Trying not to give away my excitement I sauntered casually up the counter to the young guy chewing gum and asked how much he wanted for this scruffy old record. “Six quid!”

“I’ll take it!”  After asking for a waterproof bag I hurriedly left and rejoined the battering winds and rain on the seafront almost kicking my heels in the air with unabashed delight. Almost.

Finding something we want in life is an amazing experience. But rediscovering something that has brought us joy in the past can be equally as satisfying, if not more.

Jesus talks at length about lost things: lost sheep, a lost coin, a lost son and lost opportunities. This is what he does when he wants to make a big point and not lose his audience. He gives us a perfect picture of joy recovered. In this case a relationship with God the Father.

Losing our joie de vivre isn’t good. Our joylessness can become the lens in which everything else in life is viewed through. Some would say it makes us hard, cynical, untrusting and emotionally cold towards others. Whatever it does, it is a bad place to be.

It is not that life doesn’t continue, but it is just not as rewarding or fulfilling as it could be. We may not even be aware that something is missing from our lives.

So what’s to be done as we begin a New Year? Well, at this point Christians tend to listen closely to the Bible’s words where it utters, “the joy of the Lord is our strength”. We get on our knees, do some ‘carpet time’ and spill our hearts out to God, because we think there is something in prayer. Why not give it a go for yourself and see what happens?

Meanwhile, if you have lost the number for your local church you can find a full list here.

Happy hunting.

ASD

A new year of promise, pageantry and potential. What’s not to like?

I am rather excited about this year. Now I admit it might just have something to do with the fact that it is the year of the Olympics. My family were fortunate enough to get allocated some tickets for the games. Okay, so it’s not an event that I would naturally choose to watch but, hey, the others are happy. Yes, I am slightly embarrassed to tell you what it is, so let’s just quietly move on shall we?

2012 is also a leap year, which means you liberated women can propose to the man in your life on 29 February.

It is also the Chinese Year of the Dragon, though I am not quite sure what anyone is ever suppose to do with that knowledge, but thought you should know anyway.

The other big event is, of course, the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee. There will be a river pageant like in days of old floating down the Thames with a boasted flotilla of 1,000 boats.

A specially designed river barge will hold her majesty, which we are told will be 64 feet in length, decked in red and gold. That will be quite a sight to behold, but nevertheless I can’t seem to get the image out of my head of the queen being told to jump off the barge and open the locks by her husband. “Put your back into it, Liz, we’ve still got another six to go until we reach Windsor!”

The other day I found a somewhat dubious online blog called The Year 2012 that gives you an endless stream of information on all things 2012. It contains the weird, wonderful and just plain wacky. And, if you were to believe everything it said, you’d probably want to stay in bed for the whole of the year.

So what are you thoughts on the future? Excited, Worried? Non-plussed?

At the beginning of each year I usually encourage our church to reflect a little on our own personal visions for our lives. We ask: what are our expectations? What do we want achieve? What do we want to improve upon?

Maybe it is improving the quality of the relationship with our children or spouse. Maybe it is something simple like reading more, praying more, giving more. Maybe it is working on some personal character issues.

The point is we are created to be purposeful. We believe that God wants us to reach our full potential as human beings and get the most out of the precious life given to us.

After all, didn’t Jesus say, “I have come that you may have life and have it to the full?”

So we go into the New Year with fresh expectations that it will lead to a year of life-changing experiences. It will undoubtedly have its challenges and difficulties, but it is in these times that faith is fashioned and our awareness of God’s involvement in everyday life grows.

For many of us, 2012 it will undoubtedly be a full year, but hopefully will be a personally fulfilling one too. For the Christian who believes in the Life-Giver, it comes with that deeper profundity still, which is something that we are more than happy to share with you. Maybe one of your own life goals could be to come to church sometime soon.

Whatever you do, I wish you a very happy and life-enriching New Year.

ASD