Bubbles

I divided them into two groups. We were on the ground floor of our Junior Church building, and I was leading Bubbles. It had come to this. Splash were making quite a bit of noise upstairs, perhaps some discipline issues there, but we soon settled down nicely in Bubbles. Everyone drew around their hands, then coloured them in, some using glitter pens but others settling for a dependable felt tip. When they had finished, I asked them to write their name in the corner – it’s nice not to lose your work when you run back into the Abbey. We sang ‘Jesus is the Son of God’ to the tune of ‘London Bridge is falling down’ and we then did a really, really big shout – it’s the Bubbles song after all; yay! I checked that nobody needed the toilet, and then we talked about the Antichrist.

Last Sunday at 4pm we had a sort of back to front Sunday. At the break in our service instead of the Junior Church & Trax going out into groups and  the adults staying in, the adults grabbed their coffee and went out into groups, in the drizzle, and Junior Church & Trax stayed in the warmth of the Abbey to worship and have fun and learn and pray and party together. We even had a smoke machine in the Abbey; I thought the Reformation had got rid of those. So why did I have 16 adults in Bubbles, sitting  studying 1 John 2 together?

It was a chance for us ‘grown-ups’ to see a little of what it is like being a child in our church community. It was also a chance for us to say to our young people that you really, really matter, you are church; and we are committed to making Junior Church the best bit of your week.

The festival of noise and wheels that is about to hit the abbey (Malmesbury Abbey Skate) also functions on that level. Across the Church of England 48% of Anglican churches have fewer than 5 young people attending. It is crucial that the abbey says again and again to the children and young people of our community that this Abbey is yours, your culture is welcome, and the faith that you’ll find at the heart of it will shape your life and transform your future.

Broken and beautiful

Jesus tells a story about two men praying at the Temple in Luke 18:9-14. The Pharisee thanked God that he was a spiritual superstar; God I bless your name that I am so totally awesome! The other man, the tax collector couldn’t even bear to look in the direction of heaven, beat his chest with sorrow, and simply prayed for mercy. Consider for a moment which of these two Jesus would have the church be like, and you’ll probably quickly reject the Pharisee, and select the chest-beater; well done, there is significant truth in that. God would have us be honest, realistic about any mess that decorates our lives, and the Bible isn’t a big fan of those who exalt themselves. However the church is probably called to be the tax collector just a few moments later, after God has lifted him up—those who humble themselves will be exalted. For us, the story never ends on Good Friday.

I mention this because to be a vicar is to see both the incredible brokenness and the incredible beauty of the church. Just read any of Paul or John’s letters to their congregations and you will get that pastors-eye view; in fact reading 1 Corinthians is a particularly shocking experience that should put anybody off being a vicar for good. The Corinthian church was a mess with St Paul himself running it—what hope do you lot have?  And 1 John 2 begins with these uplifting words…’my dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin.’ Don’t sugar coat it John, tell it to us straight. Broken.

But the church is also breathtakingly beautiful; a body functioning perfectly with each part valued; a building with each stone carefully placed; a light to the world.  God exalts the humble church; humility is a gateway, not a dead end. It is always moving as a vicar to see endless acts of quiet faithfulness and service continually sustaining and shaping the life of the church. Beautiful.

I write this with the year ahead of us as a fresh invitation to join with the imperfection and bring yours along too. Serving alongside one another, whether in a choir or on a skatepark, whether in prayer or in the café, whether in Junior Church or in a small group...you get the picture. We aren’t called to work, we are called to each other, and then together, on our better days, we’ll be the light the world is looking for.

Begin again

It’s false really isn’t it? The sun, moon and the stars are blissfully unaware of January 1st, or 2014, although they can be pretty useful in measuring things like days and months. Heaven itself probably doesn’t have a calendar; although I would concede that there might be a really big one with two dates on it—this present age when Christ is seated in glory, and the age to come, when Christ will come and their will be a new heavens and a new earth. We won’t need to buy a new one each year.

However the reflective element of a New Year beginning is a useful thing, it gives us a chance to begin again. At our 10.30am service on January 5th there will be a liturgy that helps that frank assessment of our lives and our discipleship, including a covenant prayer, found below, which in essence says ‘this life is yours, this year is yours, all that I’ve grabbed back over the last year, I let go of again.’ It is a moving and challenging prayer because at the heart of our sin is that stubborn unwilling self.

Then at 4pm on January 5th, four members of our congregation will be wading out into the waters of baptism, at the Activity Zone, and being baptised in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. I love baptisms because it is a joy to see the work of God in somebody’s life, to consider the potential of a human life in God’s hands, and to see God’s grace and mercy meet human sin and frailty.

I also love baptism because I think of the man that baptised me, a Methodist minister called the Revd Collins who I never met, and the pastor that baptised him, and the one that baptised him, and the unbroken chain of baptism within the church that stretches back to Christ’s first disciples (John 4:1-2). That is a breathtaking lineage to ponder. Who do you think you are?

But whether a 365-day year actually exists in God’s kingdom or not, January 1st does give each of us a chance to recover from accidental living, life swept along by the world, and to return to intentional living, a considered life with God’s priorities and God’s word right at the heart. Now that might seem like a really boring sentiment to start the New Year with, and if that’s what you’re thinking please begin the New Year with a slap and a gentle rebuke from me. If you’ve ever read the Bible, or any Church History for that matter, boring is not the word you’d use to describe the life that is lived for God, and God alone. Have a holy 2014.

I am no longer my own but yours.

Your will, not mine, be done in all things,

wherever you may place me,

in all that I do and in all that I may endure;

when there is work for me and when there is none;

when I am troubled and when I am at peace.

Your will be done when I am valued and when I am disregarded;

when I find fulfilment and when it is lacking;

when I have all things and when I have nothing.

I willingly offer all that I have and am

to serve you, as and where you choose.

Glorious and blessed God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit,

you are mine and I am yours.

May it be so for ever.

Let this covenant now made on earth

be fulfilled in heaven. Amen.

       

        (A New Year Covenant Prayer)