Bob Warwicker's blog

Who do we honour in our congregations? Really? Now read the section from James in Sunday’s Lectionary… It seems to me that as churches become more embedded in the societies around them, they become more attuned the the ways of those communities, and sadly this sometimes involves being nice to the rich (who might fill the collection plate) and neglecting those in poverty. Every so often maybe we need a bit of disturbance to induce a rethink – and to take some risks. What James advocates for individuals surely goes for churches as well.

An old station seen today, very picturesque, but I can’t help being sad it’s not a station anymore and there isn’t a railway anymore. Apart from the beauty of trains, we’ve now discovered how many green transport options have been lost for ever.

As the troops leave,
and Afghanistan will soon fall from the headlines,
we remember the nation’s
forgotten pain,
the people in fear and despair,
the fragile hopes.
We thank you, God,
that you do not forget,
not in Afghanistan,
not in any place.
And when we feel forgotten,
in pain or danger,
in sadness and loss,
may we know your presence
by our side.

A quick look at Sunday’s Lectionary, here is the Proverbs passage;-

“22:1 A good name is to be chosen rather than great riches, and favor is better than silver or gold.
22:2 The rich and the poor have this in common: the LORD is the maker of them all.
22:8 Whoever sows injustice will reap calamity, and the rod of anger will fail.
22:9 Those who are generous are blessed, for they share their bread with the poor.
22:22 Do not rob the poor because they are poor, or crush the afflicted at the gate;
22:23 for the LORD pleads their cause and despoils of life those who despoil them.”

This is probably one of those bits that needs doing rather than thinking about. Just one thing, though; if God pleads the cause of the poor, with whom is God pleading? Who is the arbiter? It feels real to me though. Rather than God being in control, it often feels to me that God is pleading for those who are poor and unjustly treated – who are still getting mistreated right now.

God, I know it sounds strange, but
I want the love of Christ to penetrate
all of human life.
I want love between people of all kinds,
between people of all nations.
I want love in my own heart and soul,
and in others’ too.
I want such love, that sometimes,
when I see hurt and injustice,
I shall be moved to creative anger.
I want the love of Christ
for everybody.
In your mercy, God,
hear my prayer.

When I started walking just before dawn, this band of low cloud was to the east. As I walked eastward, I found myself under the cloud. Then as I walked back, the cloud was in the same place, to the east of me again, and I was in the sunshine, as above. The cloud seemed to be gently advancing towards me, east to west, moving sluggishly all the time. I guess it was one of those dynamic equilibrium things — the cloud was constantly dissipating as it blew westwards down the lee slopes of the Pennines.

Also after seeing the internet, I realised I can’t distinguish a Balwen from a Zwartbles. Whenever I tell Janet what I’ve seen on a walk I shall now have to say ‘Balwen/Zwartbles’.

This humble station, seen in the distance, is Chinley. Chinley used to be a big junction. It is now a commuter station – not so exciting. However, trains still pass through without stopping on the way between Liverpool and Nottingham/Norwich, or Manchester Airport and Cleethorpes. Oh, the romance!

Relatively busy walking day today. Found these white shoots this morning – maybe they area a fungus…

COVID hasn’t gone away. A hundred people are dying each day. Are we being encouraged to think it’s their fault – for being weak – or not getting vaccinated? It’s not. I still think it’s right to be vaccinated. But I also think it’s right to wear a mask in confined public spaces – not for ourselves, but to protect others from our infections. And plenty of people are not doing this. Their selfishness is part of the problem. But there’s also a question behind this – an infection that kills a hundred or two each day sounds like winter flu – and we have traditionally accepted those losses: should we?

Of course faith matters. But what does faith mean if it doesn’t result in deeds of love? Read from the letter of James in Sunday’s lectionary, for instance. Maybe it’s too easy to worship nicely – living right is much harder (I’m not always particularly successful in this respect – thank goodness for God’s mercy). However, living right is also essential to any faith that has any real meaning. Also consider the evangelistic benefits of living a life that is consistent with your words.

Plenty of walking today, and lovely too, especially with J. It seems I can take my knee a little further when I carry less weight. But I think there are limits.

In Sunday’s Lectionary, there is some stuff about adoration and glory. In the Song of Solomon, someone admires their lover – “The voice of my beloved! Look, he comes, leaping upon the mountains, bounding over the hills. My beloved is like a gazelle or a young stag.” Great, though I’m wondering what’s going to keep them together when they are older – there will be something I hope. And I never resembled a gazelle, even when young. Psalm 45 adores the glory of a king. We are accustomed to seeing the glory of powerful people, like world leaders. But I am less inclined to adore such people. Some rule by violence or lying or robbing people who already have too little: the Psalm, however, also mentions God’s equity – God’s justice – which entitles a ruler to be adored. The letter of James points to a hidden glory, that lies behind quite ordinary deeds;- “Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights…”.

The weather today is grey but fair – and not threatening in any way to walkers. I like to think there’s a kind of glory in the grey – like unexpectedly coming across a little patch of fireweed lighting up the journey. And when it does actually drizzle a little, the gentle mistiness reveals the layers of hills as you look into the distance.

I sometimes hear or see people described as ‘evil’. In yesterday’s Lectionary, we read in Ephesians (6:12) “For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” What do I learn from this? It troubles me because of how people who speak a lot about ‘spiritual warfare’ are often ready to move to actual warfare – there can be a lot of violence in those praying voices. I’d like to mention a couple of things. One is that we should resist the temptation to associate ‘evil’ with particular people. To do that is, among other things, to ignore the ‘evil’ that is in each of us, and to ignore the God-createdness of all human beings. Another is that ‘evil’ as described in the letter is a slippery, that can’t be tied down. It sits not in people, but in culture (such as western culture), in communication, in hard-to-tie down things … and I would suggest culture and communication and all these things can be healed/overturned by the love of Christ.

“The present darkness” – where would you say that is?