Bob Warwicker's blog

Actually, the geese we heard through the window were probably the local Canada geese – but I’m not aware of anything in Bessie Smith’s oeuvre that corresponds to ‘Canada’. So for the sake of the sound of it, it’d be nice to think that pink-footed geese were passing. We’ve been told they do sometimes, at certain times of year.

J has now taken over from me as The Patient, and it’s nice to have that window cracked open, even in poor weather, and hear what’s going on outside. Actually, the main reason for the open window is to change the air a bit, especially at night when I sometimes wake J up with a residual cough.

And Jesus ‘draws nigh’ to Jerusalem, the big city, where matters of great import – and barbarity – will take place.

In next Sunday’s Lectionary, Jesus enters Jerusalem in triumph and on a donkey, matching the Old Testament prophecy.

The people like it at the time, a messiah, fulfilling the prophecy, a great leader of a glorious people. But many will turn against him very soon, not least because he won’t flatter them – he won’t peddle the ‘great nation’ myth. He will speak the truth to power.

We humans love to think we are a great nation. I wait to see if that myth will persist in Russia after the soldiers have come home.

Little nugget from today’s lectionary, “May those who sow in tears reap with shouts of joy.” (Psalm 126:5).

There’s plenty of tears in the world, and this sounds like an impossible prayer. But I’m going to pray it anyway.

From Sunday’s Lectionary, foolish believers, to think that God can overturn the conventional order of things (that military power – “chariot and horse, army and warrior” – is unanswerable)…. this is in Isaiah.

And foolish Mary of Bethany, wasting all that money on covering Jesus in expensive perfume. But She did the right thing. She knew the time and the place.

When is God going to call you and me to be foolish?

Set out at 03:45 with a thin hope of getting an aurora picture. As expected, I came back with this auroraless picture of the sky on a morning of freezing winds.

And since I came back and did more napping, snow has fallen and it’s loose enough to blow around a bit.

In the Isaiah reading of Sunday’s lectionary, we read… “Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?”

It seems to me that church people can get so busy looking backwards that they do not perceive the new things God is going to do. May God give us grace to recognise it when God is doing a new thing … and join in if possible…

The apostle Paul famously changed his mind. This is mentioned in his letter to the Philippians in Sunday’s lectionary. We see an account of just how radical his own turning-around was. He’s put behind him the whole orientation of his previous life (although he carried into his new life his drive and knowledge and no doubt many more things about his personality).

It is scary to change one’s mind. It hurts to abandon a life’s work as if it’s worthless before embarking on something new (verse 7).

This kind of change is not always what God needs from us.

But maybe it is sometimes.

In any case, at some point there is a decision, however clouded in memory, however muffled by circumstances or half forgotten, to choose Christ. Remember that churches are sometimes a poor reflection of the love of Christ, so to choose Christ is not necessarily to choose a church or to choose a particular way of being Christ’s.

May God give us grace to know when we need to set out on a new path.

In next Sunday’s Lectionary (Passion Sunday), we read about Mary of Bethany’s extravagant gesture of devotion to Jesus and looking ahead to his death. For me, one of the meanings of ‘passion’ in Christianity is a conventional one (to people of all faiths and none) about having big emotions. Do not neglect the importance of the emotional drive in faith.

Love can be a hard thing – a struggle to do what is right for someone else – but emotion also plays a part sometimes.

‘Passion’ can also be rendered almost meaningless by, for example, “We are passionate about being a world-class centre of excellence.”

I did like those clouds. There is less haze now, and they are seen more easily.

Meanwhile, when people are in that church and many other churches this morning, they will be thinking about Mothering Sunday. ‘Mothering’ is a verb not a person (well verb-based anyway, present participle or gerund or something like that). It’s a job that we all need doing for us – maybe for much of our lives – for instance we must keep learning or die. Mothers do the nurturing thing for most people when they are young and we celebrate that. But so do fathers, grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings, ‘The Church’ (the original meaning of this day), schools, workmates and so on. It’s an important job, an important relationship, and not to be neglected or exploited.

Also, as J reminds me, it’s bloody hard work.

Thank you God for everyone who has brought me on, helped me to grow up.