#pray24brum

For the fourth year in a row, during the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, Birmingham Churches Together organised 24 hours of prayer in and for the city, the region and the wider world. This year, St Martin in the Bullring, the oldest city-centre church and a place of prayer for 1000 years welcomed the event to take place within its "prayer-soaked walls". With each hour of prayer led by a different church, group of churches, chaplaincy, school or Christian charity, it was a celebration of the diversity of expressions of prayer which exist within the different Christian traditions.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BGh1g5V0oV4&feature=emb_logo)

There are many things to celebrate about #pray24brum and the opportunity it provides for churches to be united in prayer. For me personally, perhaps the principle one is the reminder of the central place of prayer in the life of the church. 

I really believe the routine of daily prayer we lead at Carrs Lane sustains the life we live in Birmingham, but we rarely attract a crowd. Not only in wider society, but even within the life of the church with all those other things we need to 'get on with', it seems there is always a risk of prayer being squeezed to the sidelines and beginning to feel like a niche interest. But I value prayer, and thus I value #pray24brum for its reminder that the thirst for prayer, including for contemplative and silent prayer, is not some freak sideshow but, across different traditions and expressions, is core to the yearning of many in the church. And I, for one, value this moment of journeying together.

12 days

I am a great believer in fully enjoying the Christmas Season ... and I have no problem continuing to wish people a Merry Christmas up until Epiphany, even if many of those around me seemed ready to take the decorations down not much after Boxing Day.

So I thought I'd share the edited highlights of my Christmas Season 2017/18

On the first day of Christmas we were with Matthew's family for a fairly loud, moderately chaotic, fun family Christmas. Much as I love Birmingham city centre, I'll admit that a walk up the Clent Hills, out in the "proper countryside" in the morning (even if it was cold and grey) was a treat; and after four years of hosting Christmas at ours it made a nice change for someone else to be cooking the Christmas dinner!

On the second day of Christmas we had a much calmer day, spending some time visiting Matthew's granny before coming back home.

On the third day of Christmas we headed to the Catholic Worker Farm for the Holy Innocents Retreat. I appreciated the chance for some spiritual input, some good discussion and opportunities to reflect, as well as a reminder that Of Gods and Men is a very, very good film.

On the fourth day of Christmas, for the past as many years as I can really count, we'd have been arriving at a Taize European meeting this day, and my thoughts were with those who were gathering in Basel. I admit, staying away was tinged with sadness, but it also felt right not to be there this year. Instead we stood outside Northwood Military Base which was also a very good place to be. I was reminded, though, that however brightly the sun is shining, you should always wear two (or more) pairs of socks at a vigil in December.

On the fifth day of Christmas it was my family's turn to gather together. Fish and chips was the response to everyone having already filled up on turkey earlier in the week, and a very good idea it was too. I avoided Monopoly with my brothers (a wise move if memories of my teenage years serve me well) and instead spent most of the afternoon being a puppet traffic light (as you do) for a slightly excitable three year old.

On the sixth day of Christmas, I did very little, because down time is good too, right. I finished a book, and started another one. I also tidied my desk... which may not sound either particularly noteworthy or particularly enjoyable but a proper sort out can be quite therapeutic and it is definitely a more usable and less frustrating space now! One of the nice things about this holiday is it felt very unpressured, and I have appreciated time to relax and recover from a busy term. 

On the seventh day of Christmas, we went to see Paddington 2 at the cinema, and if you haven't seen it you definitely should! I laughed and yes, I cried. In a contrast to recent New Years which have been busy and tiring and full of people contact we opted for the complete opposite ... and while I did stay up until midnight, I was in bed not long after!

On the eighth day of Christmas a fairly dreary start gave way to bright blue skies and sunshine which I took advantage of to get outside for a brisk walk, but it was definitely cold enough to justify curling up with hot chocolate and marshmallows when I got back. Plus we more-or-less finished writing our Christmas cards (as I said, its still the Christmas season!)

On the ninth day of Christmas we spent a wonderful day with good friends: there was good food and good conversation, a fair bit of singing and a whole lot of laughter. It was a lovely way to continue the Christmas celebrations and we appreciated the invitation.

On the tenth day of Christmas I went back to work. As expected it was the usual fairly manic beginning of term rush. I try to always remain actively conscious that it is an immense privilege to genuinely enjoy the work I do and to be able to be very content to return to work (which doesn't necessarily mean I didn't want to roll over when the alarm went off!)

On the eleventh day of Christmas, I caught up on lots of the jobs which have been on my to do list for, well, in some cases, quite some time! That sort of suggests I'm now actually up to date, which is never really true, but a few other things are bit more organised than they were. I won't pretend I worked all day though either, because I didn't, and a completed quirkle (a fun and relaxing colour-by-numbers thing I just discovered)  is one of the things to show for the day.

On the twelfth day of Christmas I was at the Sanctuary and back in the classroom. I never cease to be amazed by how wonderful my students are, and it was a pleasure to be back with them after the break. A trip to Birmingham airport doesn't necessarily sound like the most exciting way to fill a Friday evening but it was lovely to welcome Lydia back safe and well - she's been the key person missing from our Christmas celebrations and it is nice to have her back. 

Actually, we did stretch our 12 days slightly, because we waited until Saturday to exchange Christmas gifts with Lydia; and it was yesterday evening before the Christmas decorations finally came down and we declared the season more-or-less closed.

So here's one final "Happy Christmas" to you all!

The Antidote (Part 2)

I do believe there is an oft-overlooked inherent challenge in the message of the incarnation, but don't get me wrong, I also get that Christmas is a time of celebration and rejoicing. A time for glitter and face-paint and elf hats. A time for singing with more enthusiasm than talent and for silly games we haven't quite consigned to our childhood. A time for smiling and for laughter, lots and lots of laughter.

Most of all perhaps, it is a time for community. A time for celebrating together with those we love and for expanding the boundaries of those we call friends.

Luke and Matthew may have chosen different people as the first visitors to encounter Jesus, and at first glance they seemingly have little in common, but both shepherds and magi symbolise the outsider invited in: the poor and the foreigner are present at the celebration: not as victims but as actors, not as observers but as sharers in and of the story. The joy and celebration God wants for us finds its fulfillment in the opening wide of who is included.

And so we send cards (an as yet unfinished task in my case) as an annual reminder, should such a thing be needed, that the community of those we love spreads around the country and the world. We create a hiatus in the everyday busy-ness of our lives to gather together with our family and our friends.

We celebrate, together.

I am extremely lucky that my "together" includes so many amazing people and has included so many beautiful celebrations.

Christmas is about hope, and about joy: and about the capacity to keep believing in both. I acknowledge the privilege of being surrounded by many, many people who help me continue to do so. Thank you.

The Antidote (part 1)

December can be a particularly depressing time to live in Birmingham city centre. I realise this is not exactly a cheery upbeat beginning to a blogpost, sorry. But December in Birmingham city centre, even more so than the rest of the year, becomes a frenzy of consumerist excess which seems to have little (for which read absolutely nothing) to do with the forthcoming celebration of Christmas.

It saddens me that the slightly manic hysteria that surrounds Christmas reaches fever pitch so far before the day itself that people are virtually ready to take their Christmas decorations down on boxing day (the shops of course are already doing so on Christmas eve); and that a celebration that should be about innocence and love becomes an excuse for obscene excess and seems to result in so much angst and dischord.

But I'll make a confession: I love Christmas, I really do. I believe this story of the incarnation really matters. It matters because it allows the God I can believe in to exist: a God who is weak and powerless, a God whose own suffering is integral to his identity. A God who is here, in the midst of the mess. And don't get me wrong, I love sparkle and good food and wine and excuses for parties too.

In the midst of all this, then, it isn't always easy to find ways to live the seasons of Advent and Christmas that holds in balance the joy and challenge inherent in this celebration. It remains, though, important to try.

It can be easy to forget what a privilege we have, in our community life here, to regularly make space for silence in our daily life. Our commitment to the rhythm of prayer does, of course, involve sacrifices, but above all it offers an opportunity, day-by-day to pause in the midst of the busyness of life, to rest in the presence of God, to know ourselves to be loved. In Advent, perhaps even more so than usual, it was important to remind myself to appreciate this time.

Each Wednesday morning during Advent, a small group of us gathered outside HSBC, who continue to invest huge sums of money in the arms trade. We met to pray together, to hand out leaflets, to engage with curious passers-by. We stood in the cold to bear witness to the incompatibility of investment in the arms trade with the message of the coming of the prince of peace. It was but a brief interlude each week. It was little more than a gesture. Sometimes, small gestures matter.

After Christmas we found another opportunity to find meaning in the madness of this season. Hot on the heels of the joy of Christmas in the church calendar is the feast of "Holy Innocents": the memorial of the babies of Bethlehem who were killed by Herod in his anger at Jesus' arrival in the world. We spend a couple of days at the Catholic Worker Farm for the Holy Innocents retreat: a chance to reflect with others on this story and what it means for us now. To share together about who are the Herods of our day, and who are the Innocents. To pray for them, and for ourselves as we live out the incarnation in a hurting, violent world. The retreat ended with a vigil outside Northwood Military Base. While it perhaps doesn't sound like a particularly up-beat theme for an end of year retreat, I have consistently found in the Christian peacemaker movement a place of life and vitality, and I was glad to find this space for reflection and companionship, for discussion and for silence, for prayer and for protest.

Christmas is about stars: bright lights that keep on shining when we are wrapped up in darkness; it is about the courage to sing songs of peace on earth however far that seems from the messy reality around us, it is about the promise of new life that comes with the birth of a baby.

So these were some of the pieces in the jigsaw of my efforts to make Advent and Christmas fit more comfortably with my understanding of what this thing is all about.

* There's a part two to follow which picks up the cheerier bits!