The blog

On editing the bad writing of good people

In search of a word as good as ‘lunch’.

Word

I used to work as an editor on a Christian magazine and I remember writing this:

On my desk I have words cemented together in monster monologues like communist-era apartment blocks, flat and impenetrable, not for humans. I have ugly words (maximised) and phrases that should never have been born (first and foremost) crawling out of my piled-up papers like cockroaches.

It’s grim.

I never seem to meet the subtle, the pert, the playful, the resonant-with-life words. (Lunch. Hug. Wry. Fragrant. Squidgy.)  Instead, alarmingly, the banal presses in, all around. “To me,” writes one earnest contributor, “Life is a journey.” Perhaps this will be helpful to your readers.

Help.

The case for beguiling

Some of us need waking gently

A November 2015 survey asked British people for their response to being at the receiving end of a conversation about Jesus from a practising Christian.

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As well as leading us to a grudging admiration for the independence of thought and scepticism of the average Brit, what else can this teach us?

Perhaps the need to be beguiling, not direct, to give people a sniff, not a verse, to bide our time. Some of us take a long time to be woken in the mornings. 

wakeup

What I learnt from nearly dying

Where in your sickness is the meeting place between really wanting and quietly knowing? Invest there.

Sunshine and shower...I’ve done time in Addenbrooke’s isolation ward in Cambridge (mysterious tropical diseases); Intensive Care (both Addenbrooke’s and nearby Papworth); and the high dependency unit at the Heart Hospital in London. And that’s just counting the wards with one-on-one, high intensity, or barrier nursing, not the ordinary wards for the merely tediously sick.

Between 2009 and 2013, I nearly died three times. I’ve met loads of people who have faced much worse, and I am humbled by their courage. What I have to say is nothing special. I felt panic and fear and I still do sometimes.

I did learn some stuff though.

  1. There is a sort of detachment as your life fades away. When my heart stopped and the crash team started electrocuting me, which hurts a lot, I remember still being me. There was still a me in there, despite the crowd around me, and the draining oxygen, and the deteriorating consciousness. Unscientific but interesting.
  2. It helps you sort out what you want. I have spent months convalescing, with my wife kindly trashing all my emails. It is wonderful. I realized that many parts of my career were not really worth the bother, and I’ve been able to refocus since.
  3. Take charge. I found I wanted just two things: my family, and my writing. I also found (a) I wanted them so much and (b) I was confident I was going to get them back, and see good days again.  At the time I had an illness that kills 70% of those it infects, even in Western Intensive Care units. This is worse than getting Ebola. Yet I was so sure I was going to live that I was determined not to die. I think that’s key in chronic illness. Not only, ‘what you really really want?‘ but ‘what are you confident you will receive?‘  Some people are desperate to live but don’t think they will (and they don’t). Other people are oddly confident in something — for example that will see their daughter’s graduation. And they do. Their faith heals them. What’s God got in his hands for you? Where in your sickness is the meeting place between really wanting and quietly knowing? Invest in that place, I would suggest. And if, deep down, you know you’re going to die, take charge of that too. Don’t let people soft-soap you.
  4. The love of others is astonishing. My family were like this, as were others, including some of the medical staff. I still find it hard to think about that; I do not have the capacity for it; like staring into the sun.
  5. My Christian faith helped. I am a Christian and in the happy position, irritating to many people, of being convinced that God loves me. In our dark times, I found myself exposed to the relentless goodness of God. He prepares a table for me in the midst of my enemies. Blessed are the broken. Nothing can separate me from the love of God. He is my friend and it will be all right. That’s a good lesson.

This isn’t meant to be a book plug but…

Six weeks after I left hospital I started writing this book, about how the Christian faith worked for me in good times and bad. To me, it is one of the best things I’ve written, it has sold a lot of copies–relatively–and people seem to have enjoyed it. It’s available in various formats and you do bulk orders too.

I have made it FREE to people with Kindles and other e-readers. Please help yourself, tell your friends, and if you want to help out, perhaps you could write a review.

[amazon template=multinational&asin=0956501052]

 

I’ve also put up an audio version  free as a set of readings on YouTube.

Vocation – refocussing in mid-career

An overworked leader changes course

 

TurnMy colleague Flora, from the mission where I work, wrote this:

Two years ago I took time out from ministry, having got near breaking point. This was the result of at least 8 years of trying to cover more than one leadership role. My time out enabled me to recognise that I also have an inbuilt tendency to fill gaps rather than let things fall apart. It has been hard to step away and see others struggle because I am no longer picking up pieces.

Five months of rest and reflection led me to realise I could not go back to team leadership. One of the problems when you are gifted in different areas and good at multi-tasking is discerning what God wants to do through you. In recent years I had come to recognise that at heart I am a mission mobiliser, encouraging people into the adventure of sharing the gospel cross-culturally. Part of my struggle was that I had become tied to a desk. Also, I knew that as a mission mobiliser with no time or opportunity to develop personal experience of cross-cultural evangelism I was at a severe disadvantage.

As I laid this before God I found Him opening up areas of ministry I would never have imagined. Eighteen months on I am in regular contact with refugees and asylum seekers of different nationalities in my city and have a number of Muslim friends. Through my church I am now involved in evangelism and discipleship, primarily with Iranians. Recently I had the joy of helping to baptise six new followers of Jesus!

At the same time God has opened up doors of opportunity and influence locally and nationally as a mission mobiliser.

Flora’s story echoed with me. Perhaps there are seasons when we have to fill gaps and serve our organisation. But it drains us, and it we know it. Unless gap-filling is our particular gift,  there comes a time when we have to get out, rethink, and get into what we love and are good at. For Flora, it took a sabbatical; for me illness.

Either way, a good move.

 

Book Review ‘Traveling mercies’ by Anne Lamott

My monthly review of a wonderful book for those of us navigating the space between faith and doubt.

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Two culture wars rage in the US. One is the familiar, Republican/Democrat, pro-abortion/pro-life, skyscraper America/suburban America that splits the US into two politically stale halves. The other is waged by certain Christians against the Republican agenda, which smells to them of state religion. Anne Lamott is a feisty, funny, eloquent campaigner in this second war.

She is the real thing as a Christian, but in the book also shares her struggles with abortion, alcoholism, bulemia and single motherhood. In her hands, all that is a lot funnier than it sounds.

She writes beautifully and with insight and I really enjoyed the book. My caveats were:

1. It’s really a girly book (and I’m not a girl). A whole chapter on her hairstyle, yeah…
2. At times she writes a little bit like a child being deliberately naughty so as to get someone’s attention. This is an endearing but occasionally irritating habit.
3. Why oh why does one who writes so beautifully, who can drop a carefully-crafted thought into your head like a bird alighting on a twig, whose writing sometimes takes your breath away, why does she feel the need to litter her prose with the f-word? Unnecessary.

But a lovely writer, in mid-season form, prophetic at her best, touching the mind and heart.

When the door is shut to truth, try a story

A Closed Door‘Once upon a time, Truth went about the streets as naked as the day he was born. As a result, no-one would let him into their homes. Whenever people caught sight of him, they turned away and fled. One day when Truth was sadly wandering about, he came upon Parable. Now, Parable was dressed in splendid clothes of beautiful colors. And Parable, seeing Truth, said, “Tell me, neighbor, what makes you look so sad?” Truth replied bitterly, “Ah, brother, things are bad. Very bad. I’m old, very old, and no-one wants to acknowledge me. No-one wants anything to do with me.”

Hearing that, Parable said, “People don’t run away from you because you’re old. I too am old. Very old. But the older I get, the better people like me. I’ll tell you a secret: Everyone likes things disguised and prettied up a bit. Let me lend you some splendid clothes like mine, and you’ll see that the very people who pushed you aside will invite you into their homes and be glad of your company.”

Truth took Parable’s advice and put on the borrowed clothes. And from that time on, Truth and Parable have gone hand in hand together and everyone loves them. They make a happy pair.’

This is taken from the book Yiddish folk-tales:

As we read the four gospels, we see that Jesus never used scripture as a starting point except in the synagogue. He always used stories about everyday things. Perhaps surprisingly, it is never recorded that He even used a short narrative story from what we now call the Old Testament.

Jesus was not a theologian; he was God who told stories (Madeleine L’Engle)

Both quotes from: http://www.InternetEvangelismDay.com/parable.php#ixzz1NM1YaFCO
at Internet Evangelism Day
Under Creative Commons License: Attribution
 

Vocation: what to do when you have no time or are in a job you hate

UphillVocation is about ‘where your deep joy and the world’s deep hunger meet.’1

It can seem like a luxury if you don’t have a minute to spare in the day. If you’re tired all the time. Or if you’re holding down job(s) just to pay the bills.

Vocation isn’t a luxury.

Especially if you’re tired, stressed, or overworked, it’s an essential. It’s daily bread for  your soul.

What is vocation for you? What satisfies your heart? Painting? Hospitality? Intercessory prayer? Helping others? Seeing kids grow? Reading? Dance?

Find some time just for this. It might be only half an hour an month. It might mean going to bed late or setting the alarm early. You can manage that once a month.

I am in the happy position of having nearly died (three times). I have had my heart restarted after it stopped. I have spent a month in a coma. I’ve actually forgotten how many times I’ve been carried in an ambulance with the blue lights flashing.

One thing I learnt was this. Don’t die with your music still inside you. Do something about it, however small.

If you’re coming at this article from the background of a Christian faith, understand that your vocation is the best thing you can do for the Kingdom of God. It’s the best way of serving God and neighbour. Vocation, in these terms, has an audience of just One: the lover of your soul. Do it for him.

If that isn’t your background, pursue your deepest love anyway. Do it this month. Start somewhere. You will find you are not so stressed, not so overworked in the rest of your time. And you know that seasons change, kids grow up, the mortgage gets paid, space opens. Don’t miss the moments you can  prise out, like diamonds, from a barren-feeling life.

How to bury a non-churchgoer (part 3)

goodbye
I asked my former church leader Canon Stephen Leeke this question:

Because I am a Christian and am occasionally found doing ‘religious stuff’, I have twice been asked to do funeral services for family members. These family members did not want a Christian funeral. I want to help the best way I can. What should I do?

In previous posts Stephen suggested four guidelines:

  • All human life is precious and God loves us all.
  • I am not the judge and he knows all the thoughts of our hearts.
  • I am a minister of the gospel and a servant of Jesus Christ.
  • A funeral is primarily for the benefit of the living.

Here are his final three:

  • The deceased’s opinions should be respected but not be paramount.
  • Funerals don’t have to be funerals!
  • Jesus said, ‘Let the dead bury the dead’.

    The deceased’s opinions should be respected but not be paramount

Only a couple of days before writing this I was in conversation with someone who had asked me to do his funeral. He gave me details of the Bible reading and hymns he wanted and I carefully filed them away. But he now informed me that he has since talked to two other ministers, asking them to do his service, and choosing different hymns! Unless the details are specified in a will (and sometimes that is not read until after the funeral) they should not be too influential.

It is more important to consider those who are present. So he may have been a determined atheist, for example, but his wife and children may be devout Christians. Their wishes should be taken seriously. Even practicalities like travelling difficulties are important.

He may have wanted his ashes to be scattered in their back garden, but his widow may be planning to move and wants somewhere to lay flowers.

By the way, make sure they decide what is to be done with the ashes. Too many ashes sit around on the shelves of Funeral Directors or in the cupboards of relatives or are fought over or (heaven forfend) even split up and shared out. Urge them to make a proper decision.

Funerals don’t have to be funerals!

I recently presided at a memorial service for a popular man in a packed village church. His ashes were present, and buried afterwards, but the funeral had taken place the day before at the crematorium with only the undertaker present! A memorial service can start with a blank sheet and can be held at any time after the death.

Jesus said, ‘Let the dead bury the dead’

Jesus’ quotation does give one the opportunity to turn down an invitation to preside at other-than-Christian funerals. Our calling from Christ is clearly not to bury the dead but to minister to the living, indeed to preach the good news, in season and out of season, to the living.

It would be entirely appropriate to say, ‘If I am leading it will be a Christian service, if you don’t want a ‘religious service’ I won’t do it’. I will happily lead a funeral for someone who is not a Christian, but it will be a Christian funeral.

‘That’s my advice, Glenn.’

… and many thanks.

Vocation: how to know if you’ve got it

Regreso / ReturnLiving  your vocation is a mark of a slowmission lifestyle. If we all spent our days doing what we love and are good at, the world would be a better place.  How do you recognize vocation? What are the marks of it?

(I’m grateful to my friend Simon Goddard who gave a talk about this stuff and whose material I have adopted(/copied).)

  1. It’s your passion. This is what gets you going, what you look forward to, what you feel deeply about and what you want to spend your life doing.
  2. You’re not bad at it. You don’t have to be the World No.1. But you’re not terrible at this. Other people appreciate it. I am a writer. I have yet to win prizes in other spheres of life, such as ballet dancing or rocket-designing. But I do win writing prizes. I feel writing is the only beautiful thing I do, and then only sometimes. But at least I do that one thing.
  3. The world needs it. OK, that’s a little grandiose. The fate of the entire planet or the destiny of nations doesn’t have to absolutely hang on you coming up with the goods. But what you do does good, eases loads, makes things better, slakes a thirst. Your joyful endeavour meets a deep need somewhere: wonderful.
  4. The money works. Ideally, you get paid for it. Or maybe someone else gets paid enough in their vocation for you to work for free. Or sometimes you have to do a bit of tweaking to make the money work. For example, people who love the visual arts can get paid as designers. Journalism–being paid to write things for other people–worked for me for a long time. And so on. This can be a happy compromise between creativity and practicality. But also, careers evolve and hopefully you settle into a vocation more and more.

 

But some questions

This does raise a couple of questions, though.

  1. What about when it’s spoilt by difficult colleagues, bad managers, financial cuts?
  2. What if you haven’t the luxury of choosing your job(s) — you just have to put bread on the table?

That’s next week’s blog.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How to bury a non-churchgoer (part 2)

I asked my former church leader Canon Stephen Leeke this question:

Because I am a Christian and am occasionally found doing ‘religious stuff’, I have twice been asked to do funeral services for family members. These family members did not want a Christian funeral. I want to help the best way I can. What should I do?

In a previous post, Stephen pointed out: 

  • All human life is precious and God loves us all.
  • I am not the judge and he knows all the thoughts of our hearts.

This second post adds two more principles:

  • I am a minister of the gospel and a servant of Jesus Christ.
  • A funeral is primarily for the benefit of the living.

I am a minister of the gospel and a servant of Jesus Christ

    The assumptions I bring to any funeral are Christian ones. I can’t help it. They knew that when they asked me. And the words I use will be scriptural ones. I won’t assume they agree with me, but I will speak about the hope that is in me. The CofE service is again helpful here, giving prayers which are full of meaning and express the thoughts that many have but in a Christian language.

It also helps by separating the ‘Words of Tribute’ from ‘The Sermon’. The tribute comes at the very beginning of the service and is about  the life and achievements, character and qualities of the deceased. The sermon comes after the Bible reading (a requirement). It is best done as a short explanation of the chosen reading and the good news of Jesus.

The service can take the congregation from mourning their loss of an individual to a realisation of what faith in Jesus has to offer them. It ends with a powerful prayer commending him or her to God our merciful creator and redeemer, because it is God who will judge.

A funeral is primarily for the living

   The minister’s job is to minister to the congregation there. The service should help them. I usually say at the beginning:

       We have come here today to remember before God our brother/sister N;
  and to give thanks for his/her life;

    To pay our respects to someone who was important to us [and to our community];

       To pray for those who mourn and to comfort one another in our grief;

       To consider our own lives in the light of death and to prepare ourselves to meet our maker;
       To commend him/her to God our merciful redeemer and judge;
  and to commit his/her body to be buried/cremated.

I think this gives a right balance.

There is usually an enormous sense of relief and completion after a good funeral and often a desire to do better. I have known people coming to faith through the words they have heard.

One congregation for a funeral I did included a man who had unwittingly caused a young girl to commit suicide, and the girl’s father, who had vowed to kill him. I spoke strongly and prayed about forgiveness and was overjoyed to witness the two embracing after the service. A good funeral can bring about real healing.