Don't leave it until it's too late

One of the most difficult tasks I have encountered as a church leader is having to take the funeral service of someone who was a close friend.  On the occasions when I have had to do so, I have really struggled to keep my emotions in check.

Earlier this week I took a funeral service; although I knew the gentleman concerned, I wouldn't say that we were particularly close.  It was a remarkable service because the gentleman's son, two grandchildren and wife all took part.  How they managed it I can't imagine.  I remember that when it was my Dad's funeral many years ago I couldn't even sing the hymns as I was so choked with emotion!

Yesterday I had to take a Service of Thanksgiving for the life of a close friend.  In one sense it was an honour to lead the service, and to share some of my own memories of my friend Denis.  At the same time, it was a task which I knew I would find very difficult.  I am grateful for those who were supporting me in prayer during the service; with their prayers and with God's help I just about managed to hold myself together, though it was far from easy.

Denis was a very keen golfer, and there were few things he liked better than to have a round of golf; it was his custom to go 3 or 4 times each week when possible.  Over the years since I have known Denis he has encouraged me on several occasions to join him in the golf course, and I have been round with him a few times.  Although my golfing skills are not great, and there were usually several wayward shots, Denis was always very patient and encouraging.

The last time he invited me to a round of golf was a few months ago.  We had arranged a date and time, and although it was quite a busy time for me, I was looking forward to the experience.  Sadly, when I woke up that morning the rain was falling (no surprise there, then!)  The prospect of a wet round of golf wasn't too appealing, so I rang Denis to say that I felt it best to cancel, and said that we would arrange another time to go.

For various reasons I never did get round to rearranging that golf outing with Denis, and I know that will have been a disappointment to him.  Now that he is no longer with us, I will never have another opportunity, something I very much regret.  Although it is now too late to do anything about that situation, I have made a commitment to make a real effort to prioritise spending time with friends and family, and to value those close to me.  Good friends are a precious gift; we need to value them, and tell them how much they mean to us - before it's too late.

The pain of separation

I am in the middle of a tough day.  Fairly early this morning I received a phone call informing me that D., a church member to whom I felt very close, had died.  Though his death was not unexpected, it has still come as a blow.  It is sad to think that one of my final duties as a minister in Doncaster will be to take D.’s funeral service.  He was very well loved and respected, and I am sure that his funeral will be attended by a good number of people.  In one sense it will be an honour to conduct the service, but I know that I won’t find it easy.

Some of my fellow clergy like to try and put on a ‘mask of invincibility’, and pretend that they are not affected by the ups and downs of life like ordinary people.  I have to tell you it’s a sham.  Church leaders really are human!  We get hurt by unjust criticism, we get tired, fed up or even depressed sometimes, we feel the whole range of human emotions like everyone else.  Although I am very much looking forward to the challenges and opportunities which lie ahead of us when we move to Leicester, I am already beginning to feel the emotional strain of getting ready to leave behind some very close friends here in Doncaster.  And it’s even harder when a close friend dies - somehow the parting seems to be so much more permanent.

Following the death in 1910 of King Edward VII, Henry Scott Holland preached a sermon which included his famous poem, “Death is Nothing at all”.

Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner. All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before. How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!

So was he right?  In one sense, absolutely not.  The death of a loved one is immensely painful - it doesn't feel like "nothing at all".  I’ve only got to know D. over the past 12 years, but as I sit typing these thoughts I feel something of the very real pain of parting from a good friend, knowing that I will never see him again in this earthly life.  D. will be greatly missed by me and by many people – he will leave an enormous gap in the lives of his family and friends.

And yet, at the same time Henry Scott Holland was right.  Jesus died and rose again – he overcame death, and promises eternal life to all who put their trust in him.  For the person whose trust is in Jesus, death is not something to be feared, it is the doorway to a perfect life in the very presence of God!  I know that my friend D. is with Jesus right now; he is free from the pain, sorrow and suffering of this earthly life.  I know that one day I will see him again, and I rejoice in that.   But he is not here right now, and that hurts; I guess that the pain of separation is part of being human.  Jesus himself wept at the grave of a friend; thank God he understands our pain, and is with us in it.

Who copies you?

The days are rushing by as we move ever closer to the date when a removal van will pull up outside our front door ready to transport our belongings to our new home in Leicester.  There still seems to be so much to do and so little time in which to do it; the panic mode hasn't yet set in but the pressure is certainly building!

Very soon after we move, we will be heading down to London to the Olympic Stadium.  I was fortunate enough to be successful in the ticket draw, and we will be spending a morning watching athletics.  The events we are due to watch include the second morning of the women's heptathlon, so we expect to be cheering on Jessica Ennis in her attempt to win gold for Britain.  I did hope that we would also see Usain Bolt, as the men's 100m preliminaries are due to take place during the session we will be attending.  Sadly, it appears that the really good runners like Mr Bolt don't have to run in the preliminary round!

Usain Bolt is one of the most famous sportsmen in the world, following his astonishing exploits on the track over recent years.  His victory salute has become legendary.

I have 4 tickets, so as well as Sue and I, our daughter Steph and son-in-law Matt will be attending.  Until fairly recently we had something of a dilemma, because the organisers originally stated that they would not admit babies unless they had their own ticket!  Fortunately they have now seen sense, so Steph and Matt's daughter, Beth, will be there with us.  Two or three weeks ago I received an hilarious picture of Beth seemingly imitating Usain Bolt.  It was amazing, since someone so young could have no knowledge of the great man!

It was almost as if Beth knew all about Usain Bolt and wanted to be like him!  I was reminded of the anti-smoking advert which gave examples of how children imitate adult behaviour (see here).  It can be a very sobering thought for parents to realise that their children pick up so much of their behaviour and habits from their parents.  But the matter goes far wider than that, because all of us, by the way we live our lives (eg. the way we treat others, the language we use, the principles we live by, the kind of behaviours we model) are setting an example (good or not-so-good) to others.

When Jesus Christ became human and lived among us around 2000 years ago, he set a pattern for us all to follow.  What's more, he calls those who believe in and follow him to live in such a way as to set an example to others.  I am immensely challenged by that thought, as I know that I don't always set a great example.  So, who copies you?   

So easy to pont the finger

One of the many aspects of living in Doncaster which I will miss when we leave is the opportunity to browse the Doncaster Wednesday market.  Being minister of a town centre church gives me opportunities to visit the market; the Wednesday market is a little different in that there are a variety of stalls selling second-hand and quirky items, and often a couple of second-hand bookstalls.  In advance of our move I am supposed to be getting rid of things like books, not buying them, but I can't resist a browse!

One market stall this morning had a lot of books.  As I was browsing, I noticed a copy of Margaret Thatcher's autobiography, "The Downing Street Years."  I wasn't altogether surprised that it hadn't been bought; with South Yorkshire being a very strong former mining area, Maggie is heartily disliked by many locals.  In fact there are those who still pin many of the nation's ills on Mrs Thatcher!


It seems that the world financial crisis and major troubles in the Eurozone have hardly been out of the media for years; now a major scandal has emerged from Barclays Bank, forcing Chief Executive Bob Diamond to resign (whatever the rights and wrongs of the case, I admire the way his daughter leapt to his defence!)  Bankers have become the number one target for those casting round for someone to blame (they seem to have taken over the position of number one targets of hate from politicians).

Whilst I fully agree that those who have done wrong should be held to account, it seems to me that it is so easy to point the finger.  We live in a blame culture, always seeming to look for a scapegoat (as long as it's not us).  As someone once pointed out, the problem with pointing the finger is that when we do so we find that three fingers are pointing back at us!


Jesus was involved in a finger pointing episode.  A woman caught in the act of adultery was brought before him, and Jesus was challenged to give an opinion on what should happen to her.  If he sided with the law (which said that she should be stoned to death) he would be accused of cruelty; if he didn't, he would be accused of breaking the law.  Jesus gave neither response, but instead challenged the onlookers with these words, "Let the person who is without sin throw the first stone".  Suddenly those who were so eager to condemn the sin of the woman found a finger pointing at their own sin.


Yes, let's fight for justice, and demand that those who have committed offences be brought to account.  But let's not be drawn into the blame game; not all bankers, or politicians or whatever group you like to name, are crooked or selfish.  As Jesus pointed out, not one of us is "without sin" (that's why he died for on the cross, so our sin can be dealt with).

St Paul puts it like this: 'Everyone has sinned and fallen short of God's glorious standard, and all need to be made right with God by his grace, which is a free gift. They need to be made free from sin through Jesus Christ.'

Lord, help me to be less ready to point the finger at others and be drawn into the blame game; help me to recognise my own guilt; thank you that through Jesus I am set free from the penalty of sin.