Month: February 2020

…but my attention has been drawn to this, from America. What do I think? Was Jesus raised from the dead? Of course, for the God who created the universe*, anything is possible – it might not even involve breaking the laws of physics, except for the one about entropy increasing – so incredibly improbable if not impossible. But I still find the idea troubling, mainly for the reason that my greatest understanding of the faithfulness of God comes from the reliability of the laws of nature. Sure, those laws contain within themselves randomness and uncertainty – but we find we can think about and begin to understand the randomness and uncertainty, their nature and their limits. Why would God want to break the very rules that demonstrate his love so clearly? Likewise, I am troubled by what Paul writes about this.

I believe that Jesus is alive. This belief gives me no trouble, only joy. And I can believe he was raised from the dead in the way that is traditionally understood – but it does trouble me. More important right now, though, is that people love and follow him and his life makes a difference to the world.

* or ‘universes’ if you will. Language is changing – I used to think that ‘universe’ meant everything that is, not just everything that we can in principle interact with. Although even the word ‘is’ is troublesome when time itself is part of the universe.

A thin layer of snow this morning. Not hail this time, but actual snow. I doubt it’ll hang around long, and not much of a threat to travel plans at this elevation anyway, but pretty as far as I can tell in the morning gloom.

Is it selfish to thank God? Maybe: especially considering what the weather is doing to others now it’s in the tender mercy of Big Oil*. But there remains something wonderful about God’s created universe.

* Oversimplification I know.

Merciful God,
we repent in dust and ashes
of all in our common life that is wrong.
We; churches, families, nations,
think again and turn around,
and look to you for hope
and new beginnings.

Just back from a walk along the Trail, under lots of sleety showers, so it was a slightly uncheering experience. But I was very cheered that I don’t have to drive across the Pennines any more (except visiting family). Also the distant hilltops look lovely. Here’s a wet window with a snowy hill behind and a snowy hill with a wet window in front…

The first Sunday of Lent is about Jesus being tempted. And there’s backup from the archetypal temptation story (or coming-of-age story) in Genesis. But those stories are so different it can be hard to understand the Jesus story as the reversal of the other. Above all, Jesus has to struggle with his demons and decide what he’s going to be and how he’s going to be it, knowing how the world goes, and what the likely consequences will be for him. Yes, Jesus is the son of God. And how is he going to be the son of God? – in humility and humanity and pain and struggle. As to Genesis, it sets down the pattern for hundreds of generations of buck-passing (this comes a little after our passage in Genesis 3:12): “It was the woman who made me do it, Lord.” “She was asking for it, Your Honour.”

Weird TV last night, when I looked up from my laptop at a drama and saw a group of nuns cheerfully watching the crowd burn an effigy of a Roman Catholic. Such was the big finish of ‘Call the Midwife’.

It is raining this morning and at 67 I’m just beginning to experiment with tying my bootlaces a different way – reef style instead of granny style.

Lent is coming, and numbers are powerful. Forty days, like Jesus in the wilderness, or Moses on the mountain, or the forty years for the people in the wilderness. There’s also twelve apostles/tribes of Israel, and seven crops up here and there as well. It’s a deliberate connection with the Old Testament heritage. There’s different things people do in Lent, like giving something up, or taking something up, or spending time reflecting. Maybe the wilderness time is a chance to wriggle free of old habits, of previously unquestioned ‘necessities’ of life, to throw everything up in the air and see where it all comes down again. It’s like going for a long walk and life reduces to food, water, shelter, warmth, health – and these things can be needs that are felt in our guts again.

PS I think I’ve clicked the button that enables comments – but some deeper magic is preventing the box from appearing.

We visited the local chippy last night, and I ate their last bean – ever. From now on, baked beans are off the menu, because they can’t sell enough. Not hugely sad, because I can get beans anywhere, but it’s a small ending. A bigger ending is the butcher’s down the road, which has closed to concentrate its operations in the other two branches. This was the location for Hilary Briss’s butcher’s on the TV, which sold ‘special stuff’. Janet suggests it could be repurposed as an escape room … “You’ll never leave.”

A bigger ending still will be the BBC itself, which I fear for. This has been a source of reliable information all my life. What shall I do after it is emasculated?

Churches also end and begin. But Jesus Christ is for ever, each new generation shining a different spectrum of light onto him.

God of love
I see changes all around me,
the small and the earth-changing.
I see decay,
and I see growth.
In all that unsettles us, we pray,
help us to know that you
are to be trusted.

It rained all day yesterday, and we barely set foot outside the door. We did get some stuff done at home, but I find it even harder to have a sense of achievement now than when I was working. At times I felt like my child self, watching the rain roll down the window pane in the long school holidays. There have been four days with thunder so far this month, which would be a lot even for a summer month, let alone February.

Stay with us, God,
and give us strength to stay with you.
May we live as Christ,
and take on his power to love.

One of Sunday’s Lectionary readings bothers me. It’s written in 2 Peter 1:20 and 21… “First of all you must understand this, that no prophecy of scripture is a matter of one’s own interpretation, because no prophecy ever came by human will, but men and women moved by the Holy Spirit spoke from God.” (The writer has already claimed his authority and right to be listened to, by saying that he witnessed the transfiguration.) The thing is, every prophecy is a matter of interpretation. The listener/reader too needs to be influenced by the Spirit of God. Even what seems to be an obvious meaning isn’t obvious when you poke around a bit. And some prophecy is obscure in the first place. The New Testament is full of reinterpretations of Old Testament prophecies. When the people* got together to decide what writings go in the Bible and what writings are thrown out, there was loads of discussion and prayer, based on how people interpreted what was written. How else would we have any idea what is the word of God and what isn’t? Anyway, what distinguishes a ‘prophecy’ of scripture from the other bits?

I have some sympathy with the writer. We fallible humans have very good ways of talking ourselves out of the challenge that scripture offers. What the writer said needs to be said. Scriptural prophecy has its gritty bits and we can’t ignore them. But we must make sense of them. Also, “one’s own interpretation” is obviously a bad idea: interpretation is something that in some way – by talk or praying or social media – in some way is a community activity**. And that community needs to be full of diverse people, people whose opinions we find it hard to stomach. So yes to 2 Peter – but maybe I’d want to interpret 2 Peter!

* All men AFAIK – that alone should make us want to think again.
** But having disabled comments on this blog I haven’t yet worked out how to make the comment box appear again.

We pray for the people of Hanau,
for the families and friends
of those who were murdered,
for those injured in body and mind,
those who will now remember this
every day of their lives.
God bring healing we pray.
Give healing for the darkness in the soul
that does this stuff.
Give healing for the darkness in our soul
that treats another human being as rubbish…
…for we all are loved,
we all are wonderfully made by you.
Let the light of love shine
in this time of darkness.

We made a good visit today to the Elizabeth Gaskell’s House Museum. She and her minister husband were part of what some people might describe as the Mancunian liberal elite of Victorian times. But she and her friends both knew and cared passionately about the lives of people in poverty. And they made a real difference to people’s lives.
…as do many people today.