A journey justified

As the Omicron virus variant begins to bite, again the question lurks in our minds in this merry month of December: ‘Will journeys be curtailed to keep Christmas alive?’ As travel cancellations escalate and holidays are again delayed, there’s a growing fear that visiting relations and friends may be reduced to avoid the ‘Déjà voodoo’ of a hapless lockdown.

Journeys, however, feature strongly in that first Christmas story, and risks were taken – well beyond the realm of the sensible, sanitised, modern mind-set of the West. Firstly, through the demands of a Roman census, a heavily pregnant mother was forced to travel seventy miles by donkey through the dangerous Samarian countryside which would have taken four days at its smoothest – not quite the 1 hour 50 minutes that it takes today by car from Nazareth to Bethlehem. Joseph, who would naturally have wanted to protect his wife, might therefore have opted for a safer route, but this could have extended the journey to a week, despite knowing that she was ‘great with child.’

Then there was the epic journey of the Parthian magi from the borders of Afghanistan and Syria guided not by sat-nav but by the stars, or rather, one in particular. It had been their conviction after much soul and sky searching that a regal birth had been ushered in, and a sense of mystery and divine curiosity goaded them on to cover the 500 miles, taking them eighteen months or more.

For the shepherds out on the Judean hills, the journey was not nearly so long – but they were ‘under the influence’ of angels and bright lights, and this caused them irrationally to abandon their flocks, potentially to the ravages of wild animals.

For all the central figures that first Christmas journey was fraught with risk and danger, but they were put aside for greater purposes: the celebration of a new-born king who would ‘reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and for ever,’ as the prophet, Isaiah puts it.

It is a similar sense of daring and abandonment that the Christian message calls us all to make: to go with haste and inquire into what this story could mean for us in our hearts. Of course, it might mean disposing some of the excess baggage that we’re so tempted to carry at this festive time – an over-emphasis on self-indulgence, a preoccupation with consumerism and ‘stuff,’ and a scant regard for how the poor and marginalised might be coping as they languish in Yuletide shadows. Our travelling to meet the Saviour face to face, like the crib figures, is down to will power and a heart-felt conviction. Do we want to make that journey? For those who are making it now and have done for centuries it needs no justification. As Ralph Washington Sockman once said: ‘The hinge of history is on the door of a Bethlehem stable.’ History was changed by that journey, and ‘his-story’ for each one of us can begin there too… and transform us.

May each of us consider making that personal journey this year and keep Christmas alive– a very happy and joy-filled season to you all!

(With thanks to Revd Alex Aldous, chaplain of Prestfelde Prep School, Shrewsbury)

Coping with the unexpected

Across the news this week we have seen terrific volcanic eruptions in Palma,
Canaries, an earthquake in Melbourne, Australia and the increased threat of
energy companies shutting down around the country. In each of these
situations, no-one could have anticipated any of these intrusions in our daily
lives; and the same could be said about so many life-events that cross our
bows – whether it be accidents, illness or, perhaps, the more positive news of
an unexpected rise in one’s salary!

Despite how many risk assessments that we might make in schools, industry,
government or in our own personal lives at home, life always has the
propensity to throw us a curved ball. Aside the need for each of us to take
responsibility for how we conduct ourselves in relation to our world, it is a
challenge to see how we can better cope with the unexpected. Even if we play
ostrich or genuinely hide ourselves away in our homes, we can never be sure
that a roof tile doesn’t strike us! To follow such a line can only lead to a prison
of neurosis, which binds, breaks down human relationship and prevents vision
and confidence in a world to explore and enjoy.

Whilst Jesus was on earth, in his Sermon on the Mount, he pointed his listeners
to nature: ‘Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store in
barns and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more
valuable than they? Who by worrying can add a single hour to their life?’
Worry is not only unhelpful but can itself be a source of harm, as any
psychologist or neuro physician will concur. But what Christ is underlining here,
positively, is that we have a heavenly Father who genuinely cares and loves us,
in the midst of the unexpected as much as in the humdrum, and as he reminds
us earlier in that Sermon, we are all called to be light and salt in the world, not
hiding away but shining, supporting, and demonstrating God’s love to our
hurting neighbour.

There is, conversely, within the Christian message, the need for us to be
vigilant and watchful and knowing that we need to be prepared for eternity.
Life, unlike what some may say, is a dress rehearsal – the three score years and
ten, or thereabouts, is never guaranteed but can be viewed as an opportunity
not for obsessive indulgence in good works, but rather permission for God to
have his way in our lives by his grace, seeking what the day given to us might
hold, according to his will. That, I believe, will give us a divine perspective on
the unexpected and a readiness to greet each day with joy and gratitude and
our life in the next world, whenever that might be.

(With thanks to Revd Alex Aldous, Chaplain at Prestfelde Prep School)

Commitment that never changes

Last week I was preparing to give a speech at my sister-in-law’s wedding. As my mind turned to 1 Corinthians 13 for inspiration – a ‘typical wedding reading’ – I was struck again by Paul’s incredible words about love which ‘believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things’ (v7 NAS). Whatever it is we are preparing for in the months ahead – perhaps a new role, a new school, a change in our family, a new home location (etc.), or ‘just’ staying the same – this remains an immense challenge. I wonder if we might take some encouragement and direction from a commitment given by those who come into membership at a church in Washington state, USA (whether or not we are people of faith)? What follows is a promise mutually given by the existing members of the congregation and by new adherents:

‘You’ll never knowingly suffer at my hands. I’ll never knowingly say or do anything to hurt you. I’ll always, in every circumstance, seek to help and support you. If you’re down and I can lift you, I’ll do that. If you need something and I have it, I’ll share it with you. If I need to, I’ll give it to you. No matter what I find out about you, no matter what happens in the future – either good or bad – my commitment to you will never change. And there’s nothing you can do about it!’

This is truly revolutionary and life changing! Dare we embrace such an approach in our day-to-day lives – in our workplaces, our homes. If not, dare I ask myself (and yourself), why not? It’s easy, perhaps, to say that this approach is unrealistic but it has clearly worked for the aforementioned church (membership rose from a handful to over 4,000 in a matter of a few years). It certainly worked for the Early Church in the First Century which ‘had everything in common‘ (Acts 2) and gave to anyone who had need – freely. My personal challenge, taken from the church commitment above, is this: If you’re down and I can lift you, I’ll do that. What will yours be?

Fallen from grace?

It will have escaped few people’s attention over this past week that another figure in the public eye has been shamed by his own actions and ‘fallen from grace’: a seemingly small indiscretion which then revealed family betrayal and a display of double-standards to a watching world. The old smoothly-shaken cocktail of money, sex and power in varying proportions is an age-old tripping-rope which can seldom be eluded in this camera-present world.

In uttering the phrase ‘fallen from grace,’ two assumptions seem to be evident: firstly, that grace has been the code of life by which we live normatively, and secondly that grace is something from which we fall. In addressing the first idea, here is a reminder that there is a givenness to life, that we come into the world with nothing and to nothing we return, and the life that is given to us is through the handiwork of God and Spirit-breathed, and not something that should be taken for granted. The very word ‘grace’ – meaning, ‘undeserved love’- is itself suggestive of a Being who acts beneficently, who wants to bestow good gifts on humankind, but redolent of the fact that we as homo sapiens are not in ultimate control – something which has been a painful lesson over this pandemic. For some, whose sole compass in life is a secular mindset, then the concept of grace is anathema: we simply make of the ‘stuff of life’ what we will and any moral bearings that we acquire are learnt responses to improve the lot of the species. For such, grace has no place.

However, we now turn to the second concept that someone can ‘fall from grace.’ We are all aware of reputations that can be shattered, trust broken, and perceptions altered of those we formerly held in higher esteem. Notwithstanding the fact that we all make mistakes which are pardonable and so-say, ‘acceptable,’ society appears to have a collective pool of moral obligations by which it judges people, and if that code of behaviour is breached then it is regarded as a ‘fall from grace’: a person was something and now he or she is not. But whilst one is not advocating a compromise of standards, and that there is a place for punishment and a ‘cooling-off period’ where those holding responsible positions should have time to reflect and show genuine remorse (and not just for being found out) how does grace operate if not in forgiveness and with the hope of redemption?

The message of the Christian faith is that ‘All have sinned and come short of the glory (or standards) of God’ – no-one can stand blameless before a perfect God; but St Paul continues in the following verse in Romans chapter 3: ‘and are justified (put right ‘just-as-if-I’d never-sinned’) freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.’ With Christ, there is no concept such as ‘falling from grace’: this is a human construct, for with Him, whilst there is no dumbing down of sin and wrongdoing (since all have fallen because of a bias in our human nature), nevertheless, there is hope because of the underserved love shown by Jesus through his cross in offering total and complete pardon, forgiveness, mercy and redemption. The message of the Christian faith is that if we choose to accept it, there is always hope and the offer of a new start, because there is always grace.

(With much thanks to Revd Alex Aldous, chaplain at Prestfelde School)

Heartbreak

It was on this day (27th January), 65 years ago, that the King of Rock, Elvis Presley, released his first million-selling single ‘Heartbreak Hotel,’ achieving the accolade of reaching the ‘top five’ of Country and Western, pop and Rhythm and Blues simultaneously. The lyrics were inspired by a recorded tragedy of a man jumping from a hotel window through jilted love.

‘At Heartbreak Hotel
Where I’ll be–where I get so lonely, baby
Well, I’m so lonely
I get so lonely, I could die.’

As we are all aware, loneliness, this lockdown, has reached epidemic proportions and the homes that people have been confined to through ongoing restrictions have indeed become their Heartbreak Hotels: hearts that have been broken, through not reuniting with friends and loved ones they crave to embrace and hold and have the simplest of conversations with. The ‘Hotels’ may quarantine the body but never the mind, heart and soul. The Psalmist stated that ‘the Lord planted the lonely in families’ but it has become the Hotel of Discomfort that has separated them again and as we daily imbibe our news updates, we share the anguish of all who are in isolation.

It seems almost trite to provide easy religious messages to massage the pain that so many are enduring, but as humans created for intimate relationship, it would be wrong also not to point people back to our Lord. He it was who Himself endured loneliness, not just in coming to this earth, or in the misunderstanding of those who claimed to follow Him, but on the cross when He experienced the desolation of the Father abandoning him – why? so that we could be reunited with Him. It is the cry from numerous psalms that it is in our human desolation and out of our depths – brought on by any number of circumstances – that we call out and look up. It is as we are still before God that we are reminded that He, who knew anguish of soul, is the One who stands by us at the very worst of times. How do we know this? Because it was not only in His becoming like one of us and sharing our experience of humanity in all its glory and its degradation, but through the work of reconciliation on the cross that He restores, comforts and reminds us that we are not alone. Nothing about us, nor how we feel about ourselves or our condition can separate us from the love of God, and it is the promise of His holy and indwelling Spirit that He gives to us – the pre-eminent Comforter – that reminds us that we are not alone.

The monument to Presley’s hit, ‘Heartbreak Hotel,’ stood for thirty years in Memphis, but it was torn down to make room for the new Guest House at Graceland – now there’s a parable! We are all, as humans, welcomed into His house and habitation of Grace, but he does not call us His guests, but as friends for ever: the ‘Heartbreak’ for Him is that not more of us welcome the move.

(Reproduced by kind permission of Revd Alex Aldous, Prestfelde School chaplain)

The Inauguration of the 46th

The 46 degree halo is a rare member of the family of ice crystal halos, appearing as a large ring central on the sun, with light entering one side of the crystal and exiting from another. Whether the 46^th President sees himself and his inauguration in such a light and whether this day heralds a new era of transparency, reflection and refraction remains to be seen. What is certain is that the eyes of the world will be beaming down upon him and expect something iridescent in return. It would be a great reassurance if, in the back of Joe Biden’s mind, if not articulated in person, were the words on the lips of JF Kennedy exactly forty years ago: ‘Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what you can do for your country.’

At a time across our world where we have needed State and government intervention like never before, it might seem unpopular, and indeed cruel, not to ask for our country to respond to need and to those in dire straits. However, it is in those times when men and women are in a state most perilous, that the light can shine brightest. We have been privileged to witness over past months many acts of courage and fortitude in the face of danger – most noticeably in our hospitals and in care homes where men and women have put themselves at the utmost risk to save lives and are shining forth, amidst sacrificial sweat and tears. For all of us, there may be challenges in the home, in the virtual school, and in relationships we have, which may seem overbearing at times. We have grown up in a culture in the West where we have expected the Nanny State to look after us, and yet it is in digging deep, when life is at its most raw that we can ask again – what can we do for our country? What can we do for our community and the neighbours living next to us?

It is the 46^th chapter of the New Testament, Luke 2, that we have the birth story of our Lord Jesus, where mother and father are near the end of their tether at the end of a long journey to register for the census, rewarded only with a stable as a bed. It is just near there that the angelic glory shone around those bedraggled shepherds and it drives these ordinary countryfolk to identify with their Lord and show support – and what was the result? They went back to their fields glorifying and praising God for all that they’d seen – such is the reward for those who seek to serve and find. For me, in hard times, when up against it, I have often fled to the psalms and particularly to Psalm 46 which shines out more than any crystal that the world affords: ‘God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in times of trouble…be still and know that I am God…the Almighty …is our fortress.’ May those words be true for those across the Pond on this auspicious day, who claim ‘In God we trust’, whether Democrat or Republican. May it also be true for us whatever stance we may take in life, as we are open to the Sun of Righteousness shining through to bring His halo of love and light in the darkest of places: that indeed can and will bring an inauguration of something new for all of us in time to come… if we give him permission.

(Reproduced with kind permission of Rev Alex Aldous, school chaplain)

Speaking the truth in love…

Last week, a top official was dismissed from his office for stating that widespread voter fraud across the Pond was entirely baseless and without any credibility. ‘The question of Truth’ appears once more to be on trial. Stating something loud enough, irrespective of validity, and to people who massage one’s ego sufficiently, seems to be the norm… in certain quarters. In Roman mythology, ‘Veritas,’ the goddess of Truth is the daughter of Saturn, called Chronos (Time) by the Greeks. Time will certainly tell – truth always has a habit of coming out and the checks and balances put right, though at what cost?

Without truth, stability in society and trust and confidence between individuals cannot flourish – all of us need to know ‘where we are.’

Unconcealment

However, in our dealings with others, it is well to remember the philosopher, Heidegger, who made a distinction between the Roman and Greek conceptions of truth as their gods declared it. ‘Aletheia,’ the Greek god, he argues, essentially means ‘unconcealment’: in other words bringing out of obscurity and darkness that which needs to be brought into the light. ‘Veritas’, on the other hand refers to the Roman virtue of truthfulness, a state of being reflecting that which is right, but winsome and sensitive. Just saying something which we believe to be right, is not enough, but it is how we say it.

St Paul spoke of the need for us as citizens to ‘speak the truth in love’ and this is the challenge. Being dogmatic and ‘barking’ out a truth (to forgive the pun!) about someone or something may be technically correct but wins no favours and certainly not another person whom one may be wishing to ‘put in their place.’ It is how we say something, and exercise love with it, that is of greater importance.

In need of more grace

During this lockdown and in the midst of this prolonged pandemic, it is easy for each of us to feel tempers fraying and frustrations boiling over, and taking them out on others within our community and amongst our families is perfectly understandable, but not necessarily excusable. It is at this time that we all need to avail ourselves more of God’s grace and love, realizing that of our own resources we are frail. As the psalmist says: ‘I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to a rock that is higher than I.’ Of ourselves, especially in isolation behind our own walls, it’s so easy to shoot from the hip, to defend truth as we see it and make judgments which, though they may seem accurate are not always appropriate to articulate.

In the end, when it comes to truth, I am led to someone who declared in himself that He was The Way, the Truth and the Life. Truth, when it is clothed in flesh and soaked in love: He inspires us not to score points or put another down but always hopes, always believes the best, and always longs for God’s image in one another to be greater. Speaking the truth is good…speaking it in love is far better. ‘Love…truth…again.’

(Blog with thanks to Revd Alex Aldous, chaplain at Prestfelde Prep School, Shrewsbury)