Our Father….

I saw my dad today. My earthly dad that is. Usually I’d see him on a Saturday and take him out of his care home for a drive or a coffee or both. We drive around, I open the car windows to get him a breeze and some fresh air, we listen to classical music on the cd player and I try to make him laugh, and usually after a few minutes he’ll start chuckling and although he’s often untintelligable he’ll start telling me lots of things that make him really giggle and because he’s laughing then I’m laughing too. Then we go and try not to be clumsy in the cafe of the day.

But not yesterday – because I wasn’t feeling too well and didn’t feel I should import a virus to a care home. So, feeling a lot better I went today.

Dad was very low. He’d sunk into a delusional pattern where one of the lady residents in the home appeared to him to be my mum, his wife. This lady is incapable of speaking, looks a little like mum did about fifteen years ago and because dad often misses mum and becuse this lady didn’t speak, he felt his loss and was unable to process it in any way other than self condemnation. This is one of the ways in which my dad’s dementia manifests itself. Living in delusions so powerful that they either crush him or cause him to try and walk or do something of which he is physically incapable.

It’s only the last three years that I’ve enjoyed an open and intimate relationship with my dad. He fell out with me over my faith when my young daughters asked him and mum about heaven and hell way back. Being good little baptist Sunday school kids they gave their grandparents chapter and verse – which didn’t go down too well with a pair of Anglicans. But being English, and North country English at that, they said nothing. The anger and offence was contained and never explored, never brought out till mum was very ill with renal failure about seven years ago. I’d brought dad home from the hospital between the visiting hours for a cup of tea and a rest. At some point in that conversation it all exploded out of him. The years of bitterness and unforgiveness. He finished what he had to say and I was ungraciously curt and we agreed to differ. Not good. Not proud.

Fast forward to dad’s early days in the first of his care homes, his life slowly dissolving around him and my prayer life urgently informed by the enormity of what was happening right in front of me. He’d never been a bad dad, just a detached dad, an absent dad either through his work or his own emotional brokenness. But now there was a connection as Jesus gave me all the compassion I needed for my dad.

I remember a beautiful sunny day when we sat outside together, me on a bench, he in his newly acquired wheelchair [ a physical insult for an athlete with a long history of success in the sport of cycling ] and we spoke about God and heaven and hell and Jesus and because it was one of those annointed moments, I had the privilege of seeing my dad make his peace with God. I heard him speak words of repentance and I felt Jesus’ peace come into him. It was a truly wonderful time.

Today, after dad had come to the end of his ability to speak out his feelings, I asked him if I could pray for him and he agreed, eagerly it seemed. As I prayed to my heavenly Father for my earthly dad, once again I saw what Jesus can do. I saw peace come to him again. As I prayed for peace and joy to come and bring refreshing and restoration, I saw my dad relax into the moment. A few minutes later, after a brief conversation, dad just drifted into a deep nap. Ten minutes later, I returned to his chair having done some other stuff with the staff. There he was, bright eyed, smiling, mischevious. Unaware, it seems, of what had happened but in a mood so playful and light.

This is my Jesus. The agent of the Heavenly Father. The secret agent with the peace-bomb. The one who helps my dad to rest in the promise of THE Father.

Thank you Lord Jesus.

You are so lovely.

The Further Horizons

Two days ago I was late for work.

Since my dad has been living in a care home, I’ve gone to work a lot earlier in order to finish correspondingly earlier which allows me to drop by and see him at a time when he is alert ['ish ] and break up his week. This has actually proved to be rather fruitful for me at work since I’m there before the phones and drones start and can do some concentrated work without interruptions. So I’m usually at my desk justbefore 8.00am having left the house at 7.20am for the 17 mile drive.

Now – being a petrolhead and loving all things automotive, I enjoy the trip too and from work. It’s just long enough to plan the day on the way in to work  and to de-compress on the way home. I can put on some good music stuff [ currently Steph McLeod ] and crank up the noisy dial – taking care to open the sunroof  to save my ears bleeding with the  decibel related air compression in the cabin – arriving at either end ready for whatever life throws at me….usually! Moray is also about the best driving county you could ask for. It’s incredibly scenic with a rich blend of hill and valley, moorland and farm, forest and beach. Currently the heather is vividly purple against the vibrant lush greens due to a wet summer. Blue skies fighting with huge dark grey clouds really is just overkill but still compellingly lovely.

I was only 15 minutes late leaving, but due to road works at the usual, main road crossing point over the River Spey, I knew that there would already be a 20 minute wait. I’d rather drive than sit in a traffic queue, so I set off towards another, but minor, river crossing about 7 miles upstream and along twisty, turny, minor roads. Hmmm! So hard not to cut loose with the old fast pedal…..so I gave up and did so. The traffic was light and the weather good, the fuel weight was pretty low so the overall balance of the vehicle felt just the business for a caning. I cut along two valleys, did the river crossing, hung a another right over a line of hills heading towards the coast and my workplace. This last line of hills run parallel to the coast and there are several ridges and plateaus on the way up to the summit. Up to this point my view through the windscreen had always been a shifting vista of mountains, woodlands, glimspes down side valleys. Always enclosed with a horizon. Always a definite boundary setting a limit to my vision. Boundaries of astonishing creational beauty, shrouded in mists with golden blue skies and a radiance to the light that is so frequently a thing of astonishment here.

But now as I chased North there was only sky. I knew that I was heading towards the sea so that wasn’t a surprise, but it seemed as if I was driving this road for the first time, never quite knowing where the top would turn out to be. Suddenly there was very small sightline between some trees that revealed a steel blue seascape that flashed shut as the car continued upwards and around the next bend. It was at that point that I went from the thrill of the drive straight into the sense of the prophetic. I knew cognitively that I was about to crest the hill and start descending and so slowed the pace down, coasted to the brow and there was the sea. Blue as promised by the preview. But beyond it on the edge of the horizon lay the coastal cliffs & the hills of Sutherland. The cliffs stood out as a golden sandy stripe against the greys and blues of the briney. The hills and mountains were that brooding purple, greyish colour that speaks of mass and timelessness.

This was lumpy throat time. This is one of those moments that I recognise the ambush of the Holy Spirit when He cuts in under my radar to reveal something to me because the Lord loves me. I’ve been through a bit of  a hard time lately. It’s a personal thing and I’ve allowed it to seriously cloud my spiritual horizons and vistas. My love of the Lord has been unchanged but my confidence in being the man for the Lord was under considerable pressure. But here I was lifted to see something higher and beyond and attractive and equally drawing. A lesson from  creation that the lines have indeed fallen in pleasant places, that my salvation is a broad place, that there is always more in Him. More to ascend, more beauty, more freedom, more, more, more because He is the all in all.

I’m not saying that I was right to drive like Ferdinando Hamilton, or that my perception shifted totally in that split second making all right with my inner world again. All I’m saying is that I love the way the the Lord can reach me whenever and wherever He wants and that He does so.

I love the fact the He lifts me up when I am down. He is strong when I am weak [ and stupid ] and His strength makes me pause with the wonder of His perfection when I am so aware of my shortcomings in the flesh. I love the way He shows me that in Christ there are always higher and further horizons and that these are all attainable in Him. After all if I’m seated in heavenly places then I know I’m going to get there.

The Other Bloke

So – there we were.

Blokes.

Blokes in a tent.

Blokes in a tent in a windswept field.

Blokes everywhere. Big blokes, little blokes, beardy blokes, shaven blokes, baldy blokes, hairy blokes, young blokes, old blokes.

But blokes we were, are and will be and it was good to be together.

 

It was exciting, all these blokes, enjoying the banter, the bacon rolls, the burgers the beer and the ….I’ve run out of b’s – but you’ve got the idea.

 

We’d come from all over the UK. One bloke had come from Mexico, or so it seemed. I rather think he was visiting the UK and got invited along. Surely no-one would come all the way from Mexico, just for a bit of fellowship and fun.

We’d come together to celebrate man-ness. To encourage, exhort and edifiy one another. To be church for a weekend that was just male but nonetheless just as rich, just as textured, just as nuanced as our usual experience.

Men together for the Son of Man.

 

The meeting started in an unusual way with a rolling darts competition. Any old chancer could come up to the ockey, throw two sets of three and the highest five scores over the next 36 hours would go forward to the grand final on Sunday morning. A truly effective crowd warmer. We loved it.

 

There was an inspiring amount of blokey banter between the three wise men fronting the event, but it was never cynical, never nasty, never edgy, just fun and occasionally a bit challenging as the deeper things about our bloke-ishness and our bloke-itudes were exposed and examined. Healthy stuff this. We were dealing with man–issues and having fun.

 

Then the trouble started.

 

I’ve been enjoying a long period now of really getting to grips with this ‘personal relationship with Jesus’ thing. I’ve learned to make and take a lot of time meditating on small sections of scripture. Maybe just a verse or two that I’ll carry around for a week [ or more ] until I get to the time when I shut myself away, put on some quiet music and really, really think hard and pray deeply about what I’m looking at, reading and receiving from that scripture. One aspect of this process is that worship becomes deep, intimate and sometimes rather intense. I love it. The worship thing can now happen almost anywhere, anytime. Beautiful.

 

It was Kendrick’s fault.

 

As usual, Graham led us in praise. He does it beautifully, simply, powerfully. But above all he does it with a humble grace that leads you to worship. So I went there and had a wonderful time. All I could do was stand there with my hands by my sides and feel the tangible presence of the Spirit of God. Right there. Right then.

 

Worship often makes me see things differently. Like as I’ve done the meditation thing, I’ve become acutely aware that God, Jesus, Holy Spirit, my spirituality is something that I can only describe as ‘other’. It’s otherworldly. It’s other being-ness. I just know when the otherness is opening up and then ‘this’ world becomes thinner. It’s as though there’s a veil over the spirituality until I choose to focus on the spiritual things then the veil flips and I’m in the ‘other’ and  I’ve left the ‘this’ world partly behind. See Colossians 3 : 1-3. See if it makes different sense now.

 

I love being ‘other’. I love leaving ‘this’ behind because ‘other’ makes more sense to me than all the pressures and pursuits of ‘this’.

 

I’ve understood for years that sin isn’t a range of actions & attitudes that are unacceptable to Father God, rather it’s the persistent choice to live and make life choices independently of Father God. It’s choosing ‘this’ world rather than pursuing the ‘other’ world.

 

So that’s my trouble that I’m in. Thanks to CVM and Graham Kendrick I now know that otherness isn’t confined to my study. Otherness is with me wherever I am. Otherness can be attained in what appears to be the least likely of circumstances and is no less potent for it.

In the midst of all that fun and masculinity and banter, the portal to John 10:10 life remains fully open, fully accessible to us all.

 

His name is Jesus, the portal, the Door to the ‘other’ way of being fully man and fully alive – forever.

Architecture

Architecture might be defined as the physical manifestation of concept, line, design, vision etc in the form of structure.

We all have physical architecture as an inherent part of us …..  “Created in the image of God” …according to His vision. Varied, beautiful, intricate, intimate.

I belive that part of that aspect of us being in His image is that we have an amazing capacity for expression or creativity.

Creativity is the third aspect of the spirit. Our spirit is our conscience, our connectivity and our creativity. Each of these aspects is wired for us to be fully in relationship with God.

However, I also know that each of us also possesses the ability or facility of being able to maintain our own emotional architecture in the way we dress, eat , drink, work, speak, spend money or time, think , initiate or respond. We maintain ourselves in whatever manner we can in order to keep us in a place of emotional safety and stability. We create our own emotional architecture to protect ourselves from hurt and other challenges.

Architecture has to be strong and stable in order to last and to function according to design . So we also tend to choose or develop ‘architecture’ that either makes us feel secure and comfortable. Or if we can’t have that first choice then we create the best possible compromise to allow ourselves a sense of comfort, safety and security. Left to my own devices I would choose to live in a Huf-haus with a view, but since I have neither the money or the courage to embark on the steps required to obtain said haus, then I have settled for my end terrace and have adapted my aspirational ‘architecture’ accordingly. We do similar things with our emotional aspirations and security. Emotionally – we do the best we can with who we are and what we have got in order to be safe and secure.

Psychologists and psychiatrists speak of patients being egosyntonic. Having read the definitions, you might well say that the term only refers to those persons who are suffering from mental health issues, but I reckon there’s a touch of the broken-ness in all of us, in our thought and emotion life. We all respond to the process and challenge of life differently and unless we entered into a full relational community with our Heavenly Father through Jesus immediately at birth, then we’ve all experienced and expressed broken-ness or even the ‘madness of normality’.

Just to play with and expand on that last phrase “the madness of normality”, how often do you or your friends claim to be a little mad, a little bit different, a little bit strange, a little bit eccentric? Isn’t that simply a way to express that you are different from others? We all like to feel that we are different, special, unique. I  like to think and feel a little special, even if it means NOT conforming to the general expectation of my gender, family or profession. Sometimes we voice this as being or feeling a bit mad/crazy/nuts – even though we are actually quite normal. We long to be different from the herd.

Do you identify with the claims of being a little bit crazy? Jesus said “out of the mouth proceeds the overflow of the heart”. Maybe like me you  express the madness of normality!

Meanhwile, back at egosyntonic emotions and architecture…..

I have a theory that denominations and doctrine are simply  manifestations of egosyntonic emotio-spiritual architecture. We as human beings like to group ourselves with those who feel the same way about all manner of things be it fashion, music, football teams. Christians are no different. We group together in communities who share the same way of expressing their faith and also into smaller groups who share the same thoughts and responses towards particular elements of scripture or biblical principle as well as the challenges of life. We do this because we want to feel stable and secure in accordance with our ego or emotional architecture. Thus those of us brought up in left wing socialist households might well adopt those interpretations of scripture and doctrines which promote looking after the poor, equality, shared ownership of material posessions. Those of us from right wing, wealthy households might adopt hierarchical, works and goals oriented, institutional expressions which are typified by highly organised yet impersonal churches. There  are often  exceptions to any rule [ see the madness of normality ] but I’m sure you get the point that we adopt doctrinal stances, denominational communities and faith expressions which allow us to feel comfortable, safe and secure without too much compromise or painful change. Pain is not allowed and seen as negative rather than a growth promoting environment.So we frequently avoid challenge or pain.

This then is the control and dominance of our emotions over our spirituality.

As soon as anything or any person challenges how we feel or express ourselves, our natural tendency is to resist or avoid rather than engage and reflect. Furthermore we tend to have this deep need to insist on our rightness, recruit other members, undermine any challengers and in extreme situations – attack those we percieve as the greatest threat.

What is the guidance from scripture? We are warned that “the heart is deceitfully wicked above all things”  ( Jer 17:9 ). You might argue here that that scripture is Old Covenant, but I would put it to you that any emotional or spiritual expression which is not in conformity to the commands of Christ is not in Christ and therefore the Old Covenant is the ruling principle until such time as that aspect of our nature is crucified and submitted to Him in reality. John the Baptist told the Pharisees to produce fruit in keeping with righteousness – we have no less requirement. Our default attitude should always be love. Love the Lord your God…Love your neighbour as yourself. Love is releasing. Our hearts often bind us up. We need to prayerfully be open to the possibility that we are allowing our emotions to shape our spirituality and not the other way round. We need to seek the full manifestation of Jesus in our lives and attitudes rather than the posturing that so many of us adopt [ me included ] and label as Christianity. That will take a change of mindset for most of us and some painful or uncomfortable  re-arrangements of our relationships and our faith expressions.

By this great love….. All creation groans in expectation waiting for the Sons of God to be revealed….Preach the gospel to all creatures….”if you must – use words” [ St Francis ]

What would the Kingdom look like if we begin to build with divine  rather than emotional architecture?