I had a lot of things to say about this film, which I think was a better film than the book was a good book, but frankly I’m a bit knackered, so if the blue moon rises I’ll return to it.
But it was excellent. Highly recommended, especially for the imagery.
In guerrilla warfare, it is the battle for hearts and minds which is key.
Should I stay or should I go?
If I stay there will be trouble.
If I go there will be double.
So come on and let me know…
Should I stay or should I go?
Na na na na na na na na….
Which I need at the moment. Please say a prayer for me; I’ve got some big decisions looming.
Forgot to link to this article yesterday, which I find very fertile (courtesy of Kyle).
Greyly fading.
I loved this (courtesy of the I-monk). As well as my title quote (apologies for the homophobic element!), this spoke to me:
“People think of a church planter as a pastor. He’s not yet a pastor. He’s trying to build the church so that he can BE a pastor.”
That’s how I feel about my ministry. I’m not yet a pastor – I’m trying to build the church; more precisely I’m trying to bind up open wounds and get the body to knit back together. But being a pastor is what I’m called to be, and who I fundamentally am. It’s just that I can’t be that yet.
There are demons that need to be driven out by prayer and supplication.
My sadness is that I suspect my task in the life of these parishes is to do the structural work. It will be those who come after me who will be excellent pastors.
And that’s alright. These people are so lovely. They deserve excellent pastoring, and if I can help in that process – even if it is indirect – then that is alright.
One of the signs of God’s presence that I perceive is a manifestation of his sense of humour. Just when I get most worked up about musical questions in worship, and how far I’m offending people etc etc, we had Evening Prayer on the last day of the month, and so (as we follow the BCP cycle for psalms) we had the ‘praise’ psalms at the end of the psalmody – Sing to the Lord a new song!
That was me thinking God was taking the mickey, and telling me to lighten up a bit.
And now comes an excellent new set of propositions from the perennially wonderful Kim Fabricius, on what it is to be a minister. Remarkably timely – another way in which I see God acting in my life and telling me to breathe a little more easily. This one spoke precisely to me:
“Ministers are shepherds – though many a member would prefer a pet lamb. As they call their flock to new pastures, and to experimental patterns and models of ministry, they are inevitably going to piss off some of the fat sheep. So ministers must expect to be butted.”
Moses ascended the mountain and came face to face with the living God. That is a true image of worship – that worship is at the top of the mountain, and it takes effort to get there. But lets run with this image a little bit.
The top of the mountain is the ‘best’ worship of which we are capable. It is rich, it is thick, it is edifying and transformational. It is the presence of the living God.
That is where we all want to get to.
Are there different mountains? Possibly. I remember many of my Anglo-Catholic brethren getting very worked up when John Sentamu played his Ugandan drums in between consecrating the elements and distributing them.
Truth is, though, that English people still have a sufficient common culture that there’s no need to talk about different mountains. There probably are such.
So the top of the mountain is that presence of God – and it is that image of God expressing itself in us in triune harmony.
Nobody disputes that that is where we need to get to.
It seems to me that the issue lies in a different direction.
We are roped together, on the climb. The climb has become more difficult; heavy and inclement weather has set in; the blizzard is heavy; the world is being remade around us.
Some of our party are lost. We were tethered together – now we’re not. Don’t know why.
We need to fix our pinions in hard and pay out some more rope – extend the line from where we’ve reached on the mountainside down to those lower down beneath us. We can’t leave them behind. They’ll freeze to death. We’ve got some essential supplies of food for our journey – they haven’t got much.
So we pay out the rope. Some of our number go back down; we find the others – some of them at least.
There are voices from above. The weather is too hard. Let’s just stay where we are. Hunker down. Wait for this storm to blow over. We’ve got the food. We’ll be alright.
From below it’s clear that that won’t work. The lead party are in danger themselves. They’re stuck – and if they stay stuck then they will die. For the mountain itself is moving. What seemed to be rock is in fact a frozen ledge. And the weather will change; that which seemed to be solid will melt – and there is nothing beneath it but the pit.
The group below have found some more rope. It’s good rope; different quality to what we’ve been using but it’ll hold people fast.
If we tie all of us together, we’ll make it through.
Nobody needs to be lost.
The eye cannot say to the hand “I don’t need you!”
If one part suffers, every part suffers with it.
And now I will show you the most excellent way….
Simon reminded me that God’s power is made perfect in our weakness. I find that greatly comforting. Lots of signs of God’s presence with me at the moment – which probably means that a ton of ordure is about to descend upon me…