And relax...

Last week was half-term in Birmingham and we took advantage of the week off to leave the city centre behind and head to Ludlow. Notable in particular was the quietness: goodness knows what damage we are doing to our ears by living in the midst of a constant buzz of noise we have come to barely notice except by its absence.

One of the realities of our life here is that we live, to a certain extent, in our workplace: in a place which, for all the beauty and opportunity, carries within it a certain inherent level of stress as well. Being embedded at the very heart of the city is an important part of our life and has shaped what our community tries to be; but we have learned, too, that, perhaps because that is true; getting away, physically removing ourselves to a different reality is important too.

We spent a very lazy week doing not very much: long lies-in, good books to read, a bit of a colouring in, a few short walks spotting signs of the coming spring, plenty of tasty treats, lots of time curled up in front of an open fire... It was bliss.

I'll admit, I am not always very good at relaxation ... I guess it always feels like there is so much to do! But I am learning to find ways to stop and switch off. I am, also, very slowly, learning not to feel guilty about taking time out.

We have a culture which values and judges on "productivity". It seems the most socially acceptable place to be is 'too busy' or on the edge of burn out. A lot of the things which drive us to keep on giving, to keep on doing, are good things which have inherent value in themselves: but perhaps we also, myself included, have an unhealthy machismo about feeling we don't have the option to stop. Step by step I am trying to learn that I can't do it all, nor do I have to. The world will keep on turning.

I have a whole lot still to learn, but last weeks lesson went very well.

Tomorrow, I'll be back at work. I know it is a privilege that, even if I am not especially looking forward to the early morning alarm call, I am genuinely happy about getting back to things: to restarting the routine of prayer, and then to to catching up with colleagues and with my students, to getting my teeth back into projects old and new, to being part of something I really believe in.

But I am learning that it's ok to switch off sometimes and that relaxation has to be part of the rhythm too.

Reimagined

The Lord's prayer has been prayed throughout the whole of Christian history. I'm not about to suggest a rewrite (which almost certain qualifies as heresy) but during one of the #pray24brum hours last month one of the prayer stations invited us to 'personalise it' ... as I saw it, this was an "as well", not an "instead" activity: and these are the results of my reflections on what this age-old prayer says to me, or what I want it to say to the God I believe in.

Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name

God our father, mother, brother, sister, friend

Who is present in the substance and the spaces, from all time, for all time

The word incarnate who enables all creation to be holy

Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven

Help us to build a world that reflects a vision of your kingdom, a kingdom of peace, justice and joy where all are made welcome, a foretaste of the promised land into which you invite us.

Give us this day our daily bread

Give to each of us enough, but to none of us too much; all that we need but not all that we think we want

Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us

Help us to truly know the forgiveness you offer freely but not cheaply; and through the experience of that unconditional love enable us to forgive our friends, our enemies and even ourselves.

Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil

Pulled and pressured by the desires of our society, keep our ears tuned to your whispered voice of love which reminds us that what we are is what we are meant to be

Draw us closer to the promise of the victory of love over hate, of goodness over evil

For thine is the kingdom the power and the glory, for ever and ever

For we are but stewards of a creation which belongs to you, and we trust to the power of your spirit the ability to live as witnesses to that glory.

Amen.

Reflections of a promise

Today is the 2nd February, the feast of Candlemas, or the Presentation at the Temple, and, at least in some traditions, the very end of the Christmas season.

The text of the presentation of Jesus at the temple is, I think, rich in story and imagery; and it sets the tone for so much of that which is to come. Here Jesus is deeply rooted in the history of this chosen people straining to understand the mystery of God, and here too He is identified among the poor, those who could only afford the humble offering of birds. Most of these characters make but a fleeting appearance, encounters one assumes the child Jesus will not even recall, but into whose words and actions are placed the foretelling of the joy and the sorrow of all that is ahead.

Above all, for me (this year at least) the presentation is about promise. It is about promises fulfilled in unexpected ways, and promises proffered from places of prayer. It is about a God who makes promises, and who keeps them, but whose faithfulness reveals itself in surprising, unexpected and sometime uncomfortable ways ... it is about a God I can believe in.

Luke 2: 22-24

When the time came for the purification rites required by the Law of Moses, Joseph and Mary took him to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord (as it is written in the Law of the Lord, “Every firstborn male is to be consecrated to the Lord”), and to offer a sacrifice in keeping with what is said in the Law of the Lord: “a pair of doves or two young pigeons.”

A child of God

Given to God

For the price of a pigeon

The payment of the poor

Offer, purity, 

and promise

Luke 2: 25-28

Now there was a man in Jerusalem called Simeon, who was righteous and devout. He was waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was on him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not die before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. Moved by the Spirit, he went into the temple courts. When the parents brought in the child Jesus to do for him what the custom of the Law required, Simeon took him in his arms and praised God,

A man of God

Listening to God

Revelation of the future

Cradled in elderly arms

Patience, praise, 

and promise

Luke 2: 29-32

Saying: “Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, you may now dismiss your servant in peace. For my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all nations: a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of your people Israel.”

A message of God

Sung back to God

Fulfillment of the past

Possibility for the future

Light, glory, 

and promise

Luke 2: 33-35

The child’s father and mother marvelled at what was said about him. Then Simeon blessed them and said to Mary, his mother: “This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too.”

A blessing of God

Eyes turned to God

An offer of inclusion

The disturbance of accepted normality

Possibility, pain, 

and promise

Luke 2: 36-38

There was also a prophet, Anna, the daughter of Penuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was very old; she had lived with her husband seven years after her marriage, and then was a widow until she was eighty-four. She never left the temple but worshiped night and day, fasting and praying. Coming up to them at that very moment, she gave thanks to God and spoke about the child to all who were looking forward to the redemption of Jerusalem.

A prophet of God

Dedication to God

From faithful, prayerful presence

Eyes rest on the hope of redemption

Gratitude, prophesy, 

and promise.