Just suppose there is a God. And just suppose he created this universe for a purpose. And let’s imagine that he created humankind as part of that purpose. Now let’s be really reckless in our imagination and suppose that God loves us; in fact that he created us so that we could enjoy a relationship of love with him; him loving us and us loving him. Now let’s imagine that God is at work even now in the world, and it is his desire for humankind to partner with him in that work; that work of spreading his love, his beauty, his truth, his wisdom…
If that were true, what would be the most important thing for us as humans to be doing? Let’s just suppose, let’s just imagine that all that were actually true. How would I respond? How would you respond? What ought we to be doing?
Listening.
If God is God, and God is love, and God is at work, and God wants to partner with you and me in his work, the absolutely most important and most vital and crucial thing for us to being doing is listening to God, so that we will see where he is moving, what he is doing, how he wants us to partner in what he is doing; to be in tune with the movement of his Spirit to be moving to the tune of his Spirit.
But of course we don’t have time for that. We have our plans to manage, our goals to accomplish, our impact to make, our activities to get done, our emails to write, our meetings to rush off to, our funds to raise, our ministry to fulfil.
And because we don’t have time for listening we have grown unaccustomed to knowing how to listen – if we knew in the first place, that is. How do I listen to God? How do I detect and recognise his voice? Unless I stop. And find out how to recognise his voice, and actually listen to God, I am like a bull in God’s china shop, rushing around with all my grandiose plans and goals and impacts and activities.
This world is God’s china shop. He created it with sensitivity and beauty, with life and vivacity. He wants to partner with us, the stewards whom he has appointed to look after it and everything in it, everyone in it. But sorry, God, I don’t have time for that. I’ve got my three-year goals to manage.
But don’t worry. Perhaps there isn’t a God after all, or if there is he isn’t concerned about us, he doesn’t love us, he doesn’t have plans for the world which he wants us to be part of. Perhaps we’ve got carried away in our imagination, and whatever religious creed we give lip-service to, to all intents and purposes we’re just a bunch of atheists.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Looking for an interpreter of dreams...
Here is the dream. I want an interpretation...
Teija and I are going for a walk. But I keep realising things I’ve forgotten, and so we turn back home. The front door leads straight into the living room, where three men (somehow part of the family) are watching TV. They turn it off as we enter, maybe as if they do not want us to know what they were watching. I go upstairs. There is a young girl on the landing at the top of the stairs, close to my bedroom door. She shows me that the little door up to the attic/roof space is open, would I like to go up there with her. I tell her that first I must pop into my room. I pop into my room and out of the corner of my eye notice a figure pressed up against the wall behind the door. I go back for a second look. I realise that this figure is out to get me, catch me, defeat me. But on this occasion the element of surprise is on my side, and because of that he is fairly small, and I grab him and start to flap him up and down, beating him. As I do so I exclaim something (which I cannot remember) and Teija wakes me up.
Teija and I are going for a walk. But I keep realising things I’ve forgotten, and so we turn back home. The front door leads straight into the living room, where three men (somehow part of the family) are watching TV. They turn it off as we enter, maybe as if they do not want us to know what they were watching. I go upstairs. There is a young girl on the landing at the top of the stairs, close to my bedroom door. She shows me that the little door up to the attic/roof space is open, would I like to go up there with her. I tell her that first I must pop into my room. I pop into my room and out of the corner of my eye notice a figure pressed up against the wall behind the door. I go back for a second look. I realise that this figure is out to get me, catch me, defeat me. But on this occasion the element of surprise is on my side, and because of that he is fairly small, and I grab him and start to flap him up and down, beating him. As I do so I exclaim something (which I cannot remember) and Teija wakes me up.
Sunday, April 04, 2010
Don't look for the living in the place of the dead
Easter Sunday! I want to celebrate the risen Jesus with joy!
And so I go to church. It was horrible. The screen said "Welcome!" - but the people certainly didn't. The presenter woffles on about joy and prays, and gives the notices, and says a bit more about joy - and then eventually we get to the first hymn: a ghastly Victorian number, and if you happen to be in possession of a hymn book you can sing along. We are accompanied by a piano and a soloist.
After the hymn the soloist and his pianist launch into their own programme... Give me back Lutheran hymns, all is forgiven, even 16th century Lutheran hymns! We had to suffer a performance by a male opera singer accompanied by a pompous theatrical piano. We, the congregation, were nothing but audience - and the show was ghastly.
So when the children left, so did I. But not to be put off, I press on to another church, arriving 45 minutes late, but never mind.
The atmosphere was far more modest, no pomposity or theatrical performance. In time for a dirge-like hymn - but at least they provided the words. Then the sermon: Easter joy, etc. But where was the said joy? He quoted the line from the Easter narrative, "Don't look for the living in the place of the dead." And I realized I'd made the same mistake. I was looking for the living in the place of the dead. Both churches paid lip-service to joy but neither church showed evidence of joy. The service concluded with a hymn and - horror of horrors - it was the same hymn as the first church had had. One up on the first church: they provided the words. But they sang it so slowly; a funeral dirge would have been fast in comparison. And the only accompaniment: a veteran organist.
I won't return to either of those churches in a hurry. I want life! I want joy! I need to look for the living in the place of the living. Just need to find where that place of the living is.
And so I go to church. It was horrible. The screen said "Welcome!" - but the people certainly didn't. The presenter woffles on about joy and prays, and gives the notices, and says a bit more about joy - and then eventually we get to the first hymn: a ghastly Victorian number, and if you happen to be in possession of a hymn book you can sing along. We are accompanied by a piano and a soloist.
After the hymn the soloist and his pianist launch into their own programme... Give me back Lutheran hymns, all is forgiven, even 16th century Lutheran hymns! We had to suffer a performance by a male opera singer accompanied by a pompous theatrical piano. We, the congregation, were nothing but audience - and the show was ghastly.
So when the children left, so did I. But not to be put off, I press on to another church, arriving 45 minutes late, but never mind.
The atmosphere was far more modest, no pomposity or theatrical performance. In time for a dirge-like hymn - but at least they provided the words. Then the sermon: Easter joy, etc. But where was the said joy? He quoted the line from the Easter narrative, "Don't look for the living in the place of the dead." And I realized I'd made the same mistake. I was looking for the living in the place of the dead. Both churches paid lip-service to joy but neither church showed evidence of joy. The service concluded with a hymn and - horror of horrors - it was the same hymn as the first church had had. One up on the first church: they provided the words. But they sang it so slowly; a funeral dirge would have been fast in comparison. And the only accompaniment: a veteran organist.
I won't return to either of those churches in a hurry. I want life! I want joy! I need to look for the living in the place of the living. Just need to find where that place of the living is.
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