My worst Christmas memory

So Christmas Day 2013 has come and gone.  For me, it was a hugely enjoyable day, beginning with a church service where people of all ages gathered to celebrate the birth of Jesus.  It was a time of fun and laughter; there were also serious moments as we remembered all those for whom Christmas will be a sad and difficult time.  It was a great way to start the day.

At home we had 8 members of our family for lunch, ranging in ages from Aunt Joan, who is 90, to our grandson Benjamin, who is less than 3 months old.  I so appreciate my family, and opportunities to spend precious times with them.

And to top off a great day, the Christmas episode of Doctor Who.  As I later tweeted, "What more could a man want?"

Much as I enjoy the Christmas period, and all that goes with it, each Christmas my mind goes back to what could be described as my worst Christmas memory.  It was some years ago, when after the Christmas morning service, and before I returned home to spend time with the family, I went to the local hospital to visit a young single mum who was dying of cancer.  She was a lovely lady, and full of fun despite her desperate situation.  Yet the inevitable sadness was there as she contemplated her imminent departure from this world, leaving behind her two young and much-loved children.

I spent some time with her, and prayed with her.  Even though we both knew that from an eternal perspective her future was safe and secure in God's hands, the pain and sorrow of the situation was very real.  It's impossible to imagine the feelings that young mum must have been going through.  She died a few days later.  When we held a service to celebrate her life and say goodbye, it was heart-breaking to see her two children following the coffin, knowing that their mum would not be around to witness their growth to adulthood.  Each Christmas, the memories of that Christmas day experience return.

And of course the reality is that for many people Christmas Day 2013 will have been very hard.  There will be those who mourn for loved ones no longer alive, and others who are going through particularly difficult experiences.  I was deeply saddened to read the following Christmas Day Facebook message from Canon Andrew White (aka The Vicar of Baghdad):

'It was to have been a day of great rejoicing amongst the Christians of Baghdad. Amidst such terrible recent atrocities Christmas was to be a real day of hope. As Christians left church Christmas morning there was a huge bomb, scores of Christians were killed and injured. This bomb was soon followed by another with many more deaths and casualties. This was Christmas day in Baghdad.'

So how does the message of Christmas hope fit in with all the suffering and sadness in the world today?  I am reminded of the opening words of Christina Rossetti's carol, 'Love came down at Christmas.'   

One of the names given to Jesus is 'Emmanuel', which means "God with us."  God stepped down into our broken and hurting world.  He came and lived as one of us, experiencing all that we experience.  Before Jesus returned to the Father, he gave this promise, 'I will be with you always.'  We are not promised a life free from pain or sadness, but we are promised that if we open our hearts to God, he will be with us in every situation.  As Canon Andrew White said earlier today,

'Christmas in Baghdad is burying the dead of those Christians murdered at church yesterday. Despite all the desperate desperation the Lord is still here and with us.'

All that glitters is not gold

So another series of BBC's hugely popular "Strictly Come Dancing" comes to a glittering finale, with Abbey Clancy and her professional dance partner Aljaz Skorjanec walking off with the Glitter Ball Trophy, thanks to the votes of the great British public.  On balance, I think that with Abbey's remarkable development over the course of the series she and Aljaz were probably worthy winners.  Despite the fact that neither Sue nor I have much dancing talent, we have been keen Strictly fans almost from the beginning (the show first appeared in 2004).  It provides good family entertainment.

During the course of the final show last Saturday, the four finalists (and some of the other contestants who had fallen by the wayside during the series) were interviewed about their Strictly experience.  What was particularly interesting to me was the fact that they all described their time on Strictly Come Dancing as a "life-changing experience".  With great emotion, they talked about the blessing of being part of the Strictly family, the real, deeply-felt joy which they had experienced through dance, and the lasting friendships which they had made.  A number of them stated that being part of Strictly was just about the best experience of their lives. I must admit to being quite moved at times as the contestants expressed their thoughts and feelings.  It was clear that the joy and happiness at being part of Strictly was tempered to some extent by the fact that the series, and their part in it, was coming to an end.

As I was watching the interviews and listening to what was being said, it seemed that there is an obvious parallel with the Christian life and experience.  In church last Sunday we were looking at that passage in John's gospel where Jesus says to Nicodemus, the religious leader, 'no one can see the Kingdom of God without being born again.'   What Nicodemus couldn't grasp was that Jesus was talking about a spiritual birth into a whole new life with him; literally a life-changing experience, becoming part of the family of God, knowing the loving and living presence of God as a constant and life-enhancing reality.

The gospels give many accounts of people whose lives were totally transformed when they met with Jesus.  Over that last 2000 years or so, countless lives have been changed through an encounter with him.  Jesus is still in the business of changing lives.  It sounds as though the Strictly experience is wonderful.  But the problem is that it is restricted to a few celebrities, and it only lasts some 13 weeks.  The Jesus experience is for everyone, it is far deeper and more profound in every way, and it lasts for all eternity!

'There were some shepherds in that part of the country who were spending the night in the fields, taking care of their flocks. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone over them. They were terribly afraid, but the angel said to them, “Don't be afraid! I am here with good news for you, which will bring great joy to all the people. This very day in David's town your Saviour was born - Christ the Lord!'  Luke 2:8-11

When things don't turn out as expected

Our granddaughter, Beth, was born in May last year.  When we were visiting her and her parents recently we were told that Beth had been chosen to play the part of an angel in the church nativity play.  Now Beth can look rather angelic, and at times she behaves in an angelic sort of way, but as with all children, it's not always the case.  She doesn't always respond to instructions, and we wondered how things would turn out.  Sadly, we were not able to be there to witness her dramatic debut, but from what we understand, things didn't quite go as expected.  This is her mum's report via Facebook:

Beth's first nativity - surprisingly allocated the roll of an angel. Not only did she miss the angel section by wandering off, later on she stole baby Jesus from his manger! 

I must admit that even though Beth's nativity play debut didn't go quite as expected, her antics have caused quite some amusement.  I believe that baby Jesus was eventually retrieved and placed back in the manger!

Many years ago there was a series of programmes on the TV with the title, "Tales of the Unexpected."   Each programme featured an ending with an unexpected twist.  In one of my sermons yesterday we were looking at how life doesn't always work out as we had hoped or expected; specifically, we looked at the life of John The Baptist.  He seemed to have everything going for him: his birth was prophesied by an angel, his conception was miraculous (his mother, Elizabeth, was thought to be barren and beyond child-bearing age); his ministry as a forerunner of the Messiah was prophesied by the Old Testament prophets, and he had a clear calling from God.  And yet, by the time he was in his early 30s he was languishing in a prison cell, having been arrested because he had upset King Herod.  In due course Herod had John beheaded.

John's death seemed to make no sense.  He had dedicated his life to serving God and to proclaiming the words which God has placed in his heart.  He had been faithful to God's calling on his life.  Jesus himself said, 'I assure you that John the Baptist is greater than anyone who has ever lived.' (Matthew 11:11).  Yet John never walked out of that prison cell alive.  There were probably times during John's imprisonment when he thought to himself, 'I never thought my life would turn out like this.'

Perhaps many people have such thoughts at times during their lives.  Ultimately we must understand what God has said through the prophet Isaiah, '"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD' (Isaiah 55:8).  Sometimes our personal hopes and expectations will not be realised.  Sometimes we will face deep disappointments, and very difficult circumstances.  At those times we are faced with a choice: either to trust in God and believe that he knows best, or to turn away from him.  On the desk in my study is a small plaque which was a gift to me.  On it are written words from the prophecy of Jeremiah, 'For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."' (Jeremiah 29:11).  I hope and pray that whatever happens in my life, even when things don't turn out as unexpected, I will hang on to that wonderful promise.

Whose way will you do it?

I recently took the funeral service of a lady who, although she was given the name Dorothy at birth, had been known all her life as Dolly.  She had lived into her 90s, and although there was a natural sadness and sense of loss at her passing, the service was focused very much on celebrating her life and the treasured memories which she leaves behind.  She was a lady of strong Christian faith, and the two hymns which we sung during the service, "The Lord's my Shepherd" and "Come, let us sing of a wonderful love"  spoke of the reality of the loving presence of God in every circumstance of life.

As the funeral party processed into the crematorium chapel, the music which had been chosen by the family was played over the p.a. system.  We heard Louis Armstrong's powerful rendering of the song, "Hello Dolly".  I suppose that some might think it a little irreverent, and I'm not sure that all the lyrics of the song exactly fitted the occasion, but it seemed to me a positive way to lift the spirits of those who were present and to put a smile on people's faces.  After all, we were there to celebrate a life well lived.

When I first began life as a Methodist minister back in 1990, hymn/music choices at funeral services, whether in church or at the crematorium, were, generally speaking, fairly traditional.  Amongst the favourite hymns at the time were "The old rugged cross" and "Abide with me".  Times have changed as the years have passed by.  No longer can it be assumed that most people will have any acquaintance with traditional hymns.   It is not uncommon for families to choose not to have any hymns at funeral services, especially if those attending are not likely to know them.  Trying to sing a hymn which few people know can be a painful experience!

The choice of accompanying music has become much more varied, sometimes with a humorous element.  I remember some years ago that a rather large gentleman was carried into the crematorium to the tune "He ain't heavy, he's my brother."  That certainly brought a smile to a few faces!

Some ministers have a fairly strict policy regarding what they will allow in terms of music etc. at funeral services.  I have always taken the view that the funeral service is primarily for the benefit of the family and other mourners, and wherever possible I have tried to go with the family's wishes.  I must admit, however, that there is one song which I don't really like to hear at a funeral service (though I don't disallow it).  It isn't because I don't quite like the song, it's just the implications which go with it.  The song?  Frank Sinatra's version of "I did it my way".

The opening words of the song are certainly appropriate for a funeral service:  "And now the end is near and so I face the final curtain."  The problem, as far as I see it, comes with the main theme of the song: "I did it my way".  The writer of the New Testament book of Hebrews states, 'people are destined to die once, and after that to face judgment' (Hebrews 9:27).   All of us will one day stand before the judgement seat of God.  I'm not sure that God will be all that impressed when we say, as we look back over our lives, "Well, God, I did it my way!"

Because God is gracious, he gives us the gift of free will. The choice is clear: we can live life in God's way, or we can choose our own way.  The choice we make will affect not only this earthly life but also our eternal destiny.  I like to listen to "Ol' Blue Eyes", but I have some reservations about the implications of singing this particular song at a funeral service!

A Nativity set with a difference

Sue and I have visited Israel/Palestine (often called 'The Holy Land') on a number of occasions, though we haven't done so for a few years.  It is a very special place, unlike any other I have visited, not least because it is the land where Jesus himself walked.  Two or three times I have led parties of pilgrims to the Holy Land.  As well as visiting many of the sites which are associated with the Bible and the ministry of Jesus, I have also made a point of giving opportunity for members of the group to meet people who live in the land, and particularly local Christian believers, both Jews and Arabs.  It is a real eye-opener to meet with those who live in the land and hear their perspective on life.

One of the places I have visited is the Bethlehem Bible College.  Their work, not only in helping students gain a greater understand of their faith but also in serving their local community, is a real inspiration.  Recent years have been difficult for the people of Bethlehem, particularly the Christian population.  There was a time when Christians were in the majority in the town, but over the years many have felt the need to leave Bethlehem and seek refuge elsewhere.  For a time tourist visitor numbers dropped when people became anxious of the situation in Israel/Palestine, although tourist numbers now seem to be on the increase again.

One of the ways in which people in Bethlehem earn a living is through selling souvenirs.  Bethlehem Bible College itself has a gift shop which helps to support their ongoing ministry.  I happened to be browsing the gift shop website recently when I noticed a nativity set which was rather unusual, certainly different from any which I had seen before.  It wasn't cheap, but I persuaded myself that by buying the nativity set I would be supporting the work of the college.  I ordered the set about a week ago, in the hope that it might arrive in time for Christmas.  Earlier this afternoon, as I was pulling into the drive after a trip out in the car, a Royal Mail delivery van arrived with a large parcel.  I couldn't think what it could be until I saw the Arabic writing on the side of the box.  I was amazed that the set had arrived so quickly, and hurriedly unpacked it to view the contents.

The nativity set now has pride of place in our front room.  What makes it different from other nativity sets is that between the stable scene (Mary, Joseph, the baby etc) and the wise men is a wall.  Poignantly, this represents the large so-called Separation Wall which currently surrounds the Bethlehem area.  Israel began building the barrier in 2002. When completed, it will be a 400-mile long network of high walls, electronic fences, gates and trenches.  It was created to separate Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza from Israel so that they may not enter Israel without authorisation.  To some, it is a much needed security precaution; to others it is a sign of oppression and injustice.  I wanted to buy this particular nativity set, with its wall, to remind me every time I look at it of the needs of the people living in Bethlehem today.  It will ensure that my thoughts and prayers will remain with the inhabitants of the "little town of Bethlehem" who often struggle to experience the stillness and peace of which the famous carol speaks.

Does God have a sense of humour?

I've got to be honest and say that I've been in some churches over the years where laughter was almost seen as ungodly; the belief seemed to exist that to laugh in church was likely to upset the Almighty!  Thank God that attitude has almost disappeared, and most Christians have come to recognise that laughter is part of the world which God created.  Some people point out that there is no record of Jesus having laughed.  That's true, but I'm sure that some of the stories he told had people laughing (How can a camel fit through the eye of a needle?  How can I remove a speck from my friend's eye when I have a plank in my own eye?)  His saying, 'Happy are you who weep now, you will laugh!' (Luke 6:21) surely implies that laughter is a good and positive thing?  

Scientists tell us that laughter can have many health benefits.  I like to think that I have a sense of humour, although if you asked my family they would probably disagree (somehow they don't seem to be on the same laughter wavelength as me!)  I find humour comes from lots of different sources.  For example, Sue and I are currently in the process of helping her elderly aunt pack her home ready for moving down to live near us.  With this in mind, we ordered a large roll of bubble-wrap.  It caused us both some laughter when the bubble wrap arrived wrapped in "fragile" stickers!!

A couple of weeks ago I was passing through Leicester market and witnessed a couple of examples of market traders' humour.  The first was capitalising on the recent publicity around the discovery of the remains of Richard III:

A tongue-in-cheek claim that the lamp for sale was used by Richard III in 1485 on the night before the famous battle of Bosworth!  I'm not sure whether anyone was gullible enough to believe the claim.

The other humorous notice in the market area was an advertising board for a shoe repairer:

I suppose that some might find it slightly offensive, but I saw it as a witty play on words, indicating that the creator of the sign knew the heart of the Christian gospel.  Very soon we move into the period which the Church calls Advent.  It is a time of preparation for the celebration of the coming of Jesus Christ into our world.  God loved this world so much that he sent his own Son to live as one of us.  Jesus did come to bring healing to the sick and the offer of forgiveness and new life to all.  Yes, he did die a criminal's death.  But he rose from the dead, and is alive forever more.  He is still the source of Hope for the world today.

I appreciated the shoe repairer's humour, but let's not forget the true message of Christmas.

The tough choice to forgive

In preparing for last week's Remembrance Sunday services, I was struck again by the enormous cost of war in terms of human casualties.  WWI saw around 10m military and 7m civilian deaths, not to mention countless other casualties through injury, bereavement, loss of homes etc.  If that wasn't bad enough, during the Second World War some 60m people lost their lives, which was around 2.5% of the world's population at the time - a number almost beyond comprehension.  Behind those bare statistics lay the stories of countless individuals whose lives were affected in so many ways.  When an event so horrific happens, one of the issues which inevitably surfaces is the question of forgiveness.  How can such evil be forgiven?

I suppose that the thorny issue of forgiveness has been one with which human beings have long had to wrestle.  I was touched by reading recently an article about a lady called Maureen Greaves.  On Christmas Eve last year, Maureen's husband Alan was brutally attacked on his way to midnight mass at his local church in Sheffield.  He subsequently died from his injuries; it transpired that he was chosen at random by his attackers.  Naturally, Maureen and her family were left devastated by their loss.

As a Church Army evangelist, Maureen was familiar with the call of Jesus to live the life of forgiveness.  But how could she forgive the men who had so senselessly and mercilessly taken her soul mate from her?  In her own words, "What am I going to do with the people who have murdered him?  I suddenly knew that these men were going to be a big issue."

Despite the difficulty of her situation, Maureen knew that both Alan and God would want her to choose forgiveness.  This is what she prayed: "Please take from me the burden of carrying the men that have murdered Alan.  Help me to truly and fully forgive them and give me grace to continue, all my life, in that position of forgiveness.  Take any hatred that may creep in and may I be able to show this forgiveness and grace to others."  The decision to forgive must have been a struggle, and Maureen admits to having to return regularly to that prayer.

Of course, to forgive does not mean that we do not seek justice, and it doesn't mean that we will necessarily forget.  Yet, the reality is that forgiveness can still be hard.  I hope and pray that if I were in a situation similar to that of Maureen Greaves I would respond in the same way.  In truth, we always have a choice: either to forgive, or to hold onto bitterness and resentment.  Ultimately the choice to forgive is always the best choice, for as Nelson Mandela, has said:  “Resentment is like drinking poison and then hoping it will kill your enemies.”

How do we remember them?

John Alexander McCrae was born in 1872 in Ontario, Canada. He became a medical doctor; when World War I broke out he was appointed a field surgeon in the Canadian artillery.  Not surprisingly, he witnessed some terrible sights. McCrae's friend Alexis Helmer, was killed in battle; Helmer’s burial inspired McCrae to write his now famous poem, "In Flanders Fields"…

In Flanders fields, the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below...

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved, and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields...

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands, we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields…

On January 28, 1918, John McCrae died of pneumonia. His name lives on through the words of his poem.  The particular words which have stood out to me as I have re-read the poem this year are these:

To you from failing hands, we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

It seems to me that McCrae is demanding that we make sure that the sacrifice of those who gave their lives should not be in vain.  They gave their lives believing that they were fighting against tyranny and oppression, fighting to make the world a better place.  Jesus himself laid down his life for the world; to reconcile us to God, and to show us the better way, the way of love, compassion, servanthood, self-sacrifice.  So how do we bear the torch?  How are we seeking to make the sacrifice of others worthwhile?  Are our lives a blessing to others?  Are we making the world a better place?  It’s easy to say the words “We will remember them”, but if those words are to have true meaning, we need to understand what we are remembering and let it make a difference to how we live our lives.

Halloween - behind the mask

Earlier this week, Sue's Aunt Joan celebrated her 90th birthday.  She currently lives in a village in East Yorkshire, but is hoping to move down to Leicester to be near us.  Sue and I spent Aunt Joan's birthday with her; at lunchtime we took her to a pub in a nearby village.  The lady behind the bar didn't seem particularly pleased to see us (despite the fact that we were the only customers present!)  However, the meal she eventually produced was worth waiting for.  The pub was a typical old village pub; there was a blazing fire in the hearth which we greatly appreciated on a cold day.  What wasn't quite so traditional, however, was the fact that the whole place was absolutely festooned with Halloween figures; the owners really had gone to town.  Aunt Joan commented on how well they had decorated the pub; Sue and I weren't so sure.

It is clear that the UK has embraced the idea of Halloween.  Many shop windows reflect this fact.  A few days ago I was visiting my bank and noticed a shop window, decorated for Halloween, with the message: "Happy Halloween".  Perhaps many people wouldn't think anything of the greeting, but to me it seems a rather strange and mixed up message.

I guess that to most people Halloween seems to be just harmless fun.  Dig below the surface, however, and one discovers elements which are not so "happy".  A couple of weeks ago I was taking a school assembly in a local infant school.  The school theme for the week was "Overcoming Fears".  I began by asking the children what kind of things make people afraid.  A few suggestions were made, and interestingly one little boy said, "Halloween".  A slightly nervous laughter came from many of his fellow pupils, almost as if they agreed with him but weren't really sure whether it was ok to admit that they were fearful of aspects of Halloween.  It is significant that my daughter Caz, who is a teacher in South Wales, had told me earlier that a pupil in her school had become very upset by a Halloween advert.

The reality is that Halloween does tend to stress some things which aren't altogether wholesome, such as ghosts, witches and devils etc.  The masks/costumes which are worn can be really frightening to some impressionable children; and not only children, of course.  In some areas of the country, in police-supported initiatives, leaflets are handed out to the elderly to put on their front doors to deter Halloween callers.  Opening one's front door at night to be greeted by people in hideous masks can be an extremely frightening experience.  Children themselves can be vulnerable when out in the dark calling at houses.

Most people don't realise that the origins of Halloween go back to a time when fear and superstition ruled.  Apparently it was believed that the souls of the dead were called back on 31 October and if families didn't welcome them, they were cursed (trick or treat!)  I am all for having fun, but I really think that in commemorating Halloween we do need to think seriously about all those who might find the whole thing rather frightening and upsetting.  Behind the mask of Halloween lie elements which are far from happy.  How much better to focus on things of light and love, rather than things of darkness and fear.

Where does my help come from?

'I lift up my eyes to the mountains –    where does my help come from?' (Psalm 121:1)

There is probably not a person alive who has not, at some time in their life, found themselves in a really difficult situation and asked a question like the one written by the writer of Psalm 121 (the psalm was one of the set Bible readings for yesterday's church services).  We human beings were not created to live our lives in isolation from one another, and it is often in times of struggle or crisis that this reality really hits home.  There are some situations which we can face with far greater confidence when we have the support of others.  At times we need the comfort of good friends.

Into my mind has come a memory from my childhood.  I was playing cricket with some friends in the garden of our next door neighbours; perhaps I was 6 or 7 years of age at the time.  For some reason which escapes me, one of my friends decided to throw one of the wooden wickets with some force.  Unfortunately his aim was rather poor (I think!) and the said wicket crashed against my head.  Needless to say I was soon in tears and nursing a very sore head.  In that moment I was desperately in need of comfort, and knew that the the best source of comfort was my mum.  I ran home and into her arms.  It didn't make the pain go away but I definitely felt an awful lot better!

One day last week I was leading an assembly at the local primary school.  The school theme for the week was "Overcoming Your Fears".  I decided to tell the story of Jesus and the disciples in a boat in a storm.   The disciples feared for their lives as the storm grew very fierce and the waves swept over their boat, while Jesus lay sound asleep!  In their desperation they turned to Jesus, who, to their amazement, calmed the storm with a word.  As I told the story, I encouraged the children to join in by doing actions and making noises (wind, waves etc.); they seemed to enjoy doing so.  The disciples overcame their fears by turning to the only One who could help them.

There can be few things more precious in life than to have good friends and/or family to whom we can turn in times of need.  But sometimes even our friends let us down, or maybe there are some things which we face that we feel unable to share with those close to us.  In times like that we need to remember how the writer of Psalm 121 answers his own question:


'I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
    where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord,
    the Maker of heaven and earth.'

I love the definition of a true friend as “one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out.”  Not a bad description of the friendship we can find in Jesus.

Ben makes his entrance!

Last week was a very special time for me and Sue, as we celebrated the birth of our third grandchild Benjamin (Ben).   It seems that we have been looking forward to his birth for a long time (about 9 months, actually!), and we give thanks to God for his safe arrival.  I am sure that he will be a great blessing to his parents Chris & Megan, and to his big brother, Max.  It was one of those strange co-incidences that Ben was born on 10 October, which is the same date on which my dad died back in 1991.  It is a powerful reminder of the rhythm and pattern of human existence.

Max and Ben have a cousin, Beth, who lives in Doncaster.  Beth and her parents, Matt and Steph, came down over the weekend to see Ben, and it was wonderful to have our 3 grandchildren together in our house for the first time.  I thought that I would take the opportunity to have a photo taken with them.  There is an old saying, "never work with children or animals", and I knew that it wasn't going to be easy getting a good shot.  We did manage very briefly to get all four of us on the settee together, but then Ben started crying, and Beth and Max decided that they didn't really want to sit for a photo-shoot!  We managed to get one brief shot; it isn't a great photo but it will be a very precious reminder in the years to come.

I suppose that every grandparent thinks that their grandkids are wonderful, and mine certainly are!  It has been fascinating to see how Max and Beth have developed in so many ways since they were born last year.  They are clearly very different in both nature and character, yet both so lovable and lots of fun to be with.  I am sure that in due course Ben will begin to reveal and develop his own personal characteristics.  Three very special young children!

Of course, every human being is precious in God's eyes.  The Bible tells us that when God decided to create human beings he made a decision that every human being would be created to bear something of the "image" of God.  A better translation of that word might be "imprint" or "impression".  That can be a little difficult to understand, but at heart what it means is that God leaves the imprint of his hand on every human life, and no-one can be fully complete or whole unless they come to know God in a personal way and enter into a love relationship with him (Jesus came into the world to show us the way).  We are created to walk with God.

Max, Beth and Ben are very blessed in that they have parents who will love and nurture them.  Their parents know that it is far more important to give to a child things like love, encouragement, time, good example, than to give them expensive gifts etc.

I pray every day for my family.  I thank God for each one of them.  Top of my prayer list for my grandchildren (including number 4 who is due next year!) is that they will one day come to know personally the God who created them, who has loved them from before the dawn of time, and who has an eternal plan and purpose for their lives.

The source of true security

Two of the churches of which I am minister suffered from break-ins within the last week.  It's something which I have had to deal with several times over the years in various churches.  The strangest occurrence came when someone actually broke OUT of one of my churches in Sheffield (we never quite got to the bottom of that one, but despite the damage done, it did create a little humour!)

I'm never quite sure why people think that it will be worth breaking into Methodist churches.  In my experience, the most someone has found worth taking has been a few food items from the kitchen or the odd small items of petty cash.  In one of the recent break-ins, the intruders managed to prise the back off the church safe.  I'm sure that they were disappointed to discover that the safe only contained old record books etc. and nothing of any value.  Perhaps it might have saved them time and effort if we had put a note on the front of the safe to that effect!

It is sad, of course, that the respect given to places of worship, which was the norm in days gone by, hardly seems to be the case these days.  Churches and other places of worship appear to be as regular a target as any other properties.  In the recent cases with my two churches, the main problem caused was the mess which the intruders created and the disruption to the ongoing programmes in the churches.  For example, a playgroup session had to be cancelled.  I don't suppose that those who were responsible for the damage to the property gave a second thought to all the children and families who were affected as a consequence.

I happened to be reading the local village newsletter yesterday, which included a report from a local police officer.  The report contained guidance on steps to be taken to help prevent burglary.  The advice included instructions to close all windows and doors at night: difficult instructions to follow during the hot summer weather which we have experienced this year!   

I have found myself reflecting on some words of Jesus:

'Do not store up riches for yourselves here on earth, where moths and rust destroy, and robbers break in and steal. Instead, store up riches for yourselves in heaven, where moths and rust cannot destroy, and robbers cannot break in and steal. For your heart will always be where your riches are.'  (Matthew 6:19-21)

There is the potential for every earthly possession to be taken from us.  What can never be taken from us is the love we find in a relationship with the living God.  If we try to find security in possessions (a big car, house, bank balance etc.), then we will probably be constantly concerned for their security.  If, on the other hand, our security is on our relationship with God, then we need have no concern, for God's love lasts for all eternity.  That's true security!

The cost of love: the pain of separation

I was in the sanctuary area of church and had noticed an elderly lady sitting with her head bowed in an attitude of prayer.  She had been there for some minutes when I heard a gentle sobbing.  It's not always easy to know in those sort of situations if the person concerned would appreciate someone to talk or pray with them, or whether they would prefer to be given the space to offer their own thoughts and prayers to God.  Ultimately I decided that I would go and sit next to the lady, and I put my hand gently onto hers as a sign of reassurance.

During our subsequent conversation it transpired that it would have been her late husband's birthday, and she had come into church to sit quietly, to pray, and to reflect on the 40+ years of married life which they had shared together.  Although her husband had died many years ago, it was clear that she still desperately misses him.  One of the greatest blessings in life is to love and be loved and to enjoy rich and close relationships.  At the same time, deep down we all know that no human relationship lasts forever.  

In the church wedding service, vows are exchanged between a man and a women "until we are parted by death." When Sue and I committed ourselves to each other back in 1978 we knew then that one day our marriage would be ended by death (in fact I've said to her several times over the years that it would be best if I went first as I feel that she would cope better on her own!)  The pain of separation applies not just to married couple but also, for example, to family relationships and close friendships.  My dad died over 20 years ago and yet there are times when I still miss him greatly, and I know that my mum does, too.  As someone wisely once said, "the pain doesn't goes away, you just get used to it being there."

  
Later this week I will be leading a service to celebrate the life of a lady who was greatly loved and respected, who died recently.  The emphasis of the service will be very much on thanksgiving for and celebration of her life, and yet at the same time we cannot hide away from the natural sadness and deep sense of loss felt by her family and friends.  Despite the "stiff upper lip" tradition which many of us try to hang on to, the reality is that tears can be an expression of natural emotions; we were created to express emotion.  Jesus himself wept at the grave of a friend.

Even for those of us who follow Jesus, believe that he has overcome death, and know that death is merely a doorway to a new life in the presence of God, we do not have immunity from the pain of separation.  If a loved one dies in the faith of Christ, and we share that faith too, we know that one day we will be reunited with them, and that truth is wonderfully reassuring.  In the meantime, God himself promises to 'comfort the broken hearted'; through his strength, and with the sensitive support and encouragement of friends and family, we can deal with times of great loss.  But let's not try to ignore those natural human emotions - they are part of how God made us.

St Peter's Close?

Last week's big news as far as TV was concerned was the eagerly awaited return to our TV screens of Downton Abbey.  The fourth series of Downton began minus a few of the major characters from the last series, most notably of all Matthew Crawley, who was dramatically killed off in a motor accident at the end of series 3.  His widow, Lady Mary, is in deep mourning (though, to be honest, she has hardly been a barrel of laughs in previous series!)   Much of the first programme of series 4 revolved around the repercussions of Matthew's death.

One element of the discussions which took place was the untimely and unexpected nature of his death.  He was still a relatively young man, and had just celebrated the birth of his and Mary's first child.  What particularly took my notice was when one character commented of Matthew, "He thought that his death was many years away."

Perhaps this sentence stood out to me because the subject of life and death has been on my mind quite a bit recently.  Last week, on my day off, Sue and I were making our way back home from a walk when we came across a road sign which caught my attention:

Seeing the sign immediately reminded me of the joke about the council which realised their mistake in naming a new road, containing residences for the elderly, St Peter's Close!  There have been many jokes over the years about people meeting St Peter at the 'pearly gates.'

Sue and I have enjoyed watching the dvds of the hit US medical drama, House, starring Hugh Laurie.  Despite that fact that there is much in the lifestyle and beliefs of House and some of his colleagues which are in clear conflict with our Christian faith, we have found ourselves enjoying the series, far-fetched as some of the stories are.  Interestingly, the vast majority of patients which House and his team treat ask the very same question: "Am I going to die?"

Of course their question relates to the timing of death, but as we all know, the ultimate answer is yes - you are going to die!  I know several people who are currently facing the reality of cancer.  When one gets a diagnosis of a life-threatening illness like cancer, the reality of our human mortality becomes very clear.  The real question for all of us is, "will I be ready to face death when it comes?"

Though the Bible makes the reality of death very clear, it also gives the assurance that if our faith is in Jesus Christ we have no need to fear.  Jesus himself experienced death, yet is alive today.  He defeated death, and makes the promise that all who put their faith in him can know life beyond death.

The truth is that none of us know how long we have left on this earth.  The important thing is that we are ready for when our earthly existence comes to an end.

A child's perspective

I grew up in a small East Yorkshire village.  Despite having to 'cope' with 4 older sisters (and, eventually, a younger brother), the vast majority of my childhood memories are positive.  As a family we attended our local Methodist Church.  It was only about 25 yards from our back door to the church entrance, so we were usually on time!  I have been back to that church quite a few times during my adult life, and each time it has brought back some wonderful memories.  One of my not so positive memories relates to what used to happen when we arrived at church each Sunday morning.

We usually walked the short distance to church together as a family.  There was always someone on the door to welcome visitors and hand out the hymn books.  What seemed very strange and rather unfair to me as a child was that my parents and sisters would be given the normal hymn books, but when it came to me I was given one of the old tatty hymn books.  The people on the door obviously thought that someone of my age couldn't be trusted to look after a good condition hymn book!  I can't say that this caused me sleepless nights, but perhaps sub-consciously it made me feel that as a child I was a second class citizen.  Every now and then the memory resurfaces, so clearly it had some effect.

In the 1st century culture of the New Testament, children were certainly treated like second class citizens.  Perhaps that is part of the reason why on one occasion, when some parents brought their children to Jesus to have him bless them, the disciples rebuked the people and tried to keep them and their children away from Jesus.  I love Jesus' reaction:

When Jesus noticed this, he was angry and said to his disciples, “Let the children come to me, and do not stop them, because the Kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I assure you that whoever does not receive the Kingdom of God like a child will never enter it.” Then he took the children in his arms, placed his hands on each of them, and blessed them. (Mark 10:14-16)

In the eyes of the disciples (and of their society) these children were of little value.  In Jesus' eyes, they were precious beyond measure.   That passage has always held a special meaning to me, and is a constant reminder that every person is loved by God and is special in his sight; there are no second class citizens with God.  Although the tatty hymnbooks may have made me feel that I was not as important as an adult (or even my older sisters!), that little village church is one which will remain special to me because it was there that I first met God in a real way at the tender age of just 5 years old.

It was after one Sunday morning church service (I can't remember the exact date) that I returned home, knelt down on the stairs, and committed my life to Jesus.  Although I was so young, and my knowledge wasn't great, from that moment on I knew that Jesus was a friend in whom I could trust.  Together we have been on some amazing adventures over the ensuing years.  Often I have let him down, but he has never failed me.  

It can be quite scary following Jesus; sometimes he has led me to places and situations where I have felt totally out of my depth.  But I don't regret for one minute my decision to give my life to him; I know that wherever I go and whatever I face he is my constant companion, and gives me the courage and strength to do things which I could never achieve in my own strength.  Over the years my knowledge and understanding of God has developed in many ways, but I will never forget that the journey really began when I was just 5 years of age.  When Jesus took those children in his arms and blessed them, he showed that they were precious.  We are all precious in his eyes!

A Tardis experience

A couple of interesting happenings from last weekend:  The first one occurred after the Sunday evening service which I had led in a local Methodist church (though not one where I am minister).  An elderly gentleman approached me afterwards and said, "It's nice to have a younger preacher".  I must confess that it's rather a long time since anyone referred to me in those terms!  I quite enjoyed the moment, although a number of those to whom I have reported the comment have found it very amusing.  I have always thought that age is in some ways a very subjective thing - as someone has pointed out, there is a sense in which you are as old as you feel.  Most of the time I still feel fairly young, even if my body sometimes tells me otherwise!

Yesterday was a busy day ("a packed programme" as the Two Ronnies used to say).  One of the events which Sue and I attended was an open garden to which we were invited by a lady who attends one of my churches.  Once each year this lady and her husband open their garden to raise money for a cancer charity.  We worked out that we could just about fit in a visit, so after our morning service at church, and then calling in at a farewell "do" for our local curate, we set off for the house.

We had not been to this property before, so didn't quite know what to expect.  The house is situated in a pleasant road, perhaps about a mile from where we live.  The house was attractive but didn't look anything out of the ordinary for that area.  We heard voices coming from the back garden and made our way round the side of the house to find the entrance to the back garden.  When walked through the side gate and looked at the garden we were absolutely amazed.

I have been a fan of Doctor Who since the programme first hit our TV screens back in 1963.  I've lost count of the number of times over the years when a person has entered the Tardis for the first time and exclaimed "It's bigger on the inside than it is on the outside!"  

Sue and I had a 'Tardis experience' when we entered this back garden.  We were shocked to discover its size, and the fact that it contained a small lake with ducks and geese (not to mention a life-sized model giraffe, elephant and gorilla!)  From the front of the house it was impossible to imagine what lay behind.

This may sound a bit corny, but as I've reflected on that experience it has occurred to me that coming to know God could be described as a Tardis experience.  The more we come to know God, the more we realise that there is so much more to discover.  I've been blessed to know God since I first put my faith in Jesus Christ at the age of 5.  But I know that in some ways I've only just scratched the surface of the depths of God's amazing nature and character.  The Psalmist invites us to 'taste and see that the Lord is good.'   When we do 'taste' of who God is, it only gives us an appetite for more.