A _____ is for life, not just for Christmas

While waiting at Heathrow Terminal 5 last night for a late missionary (delayed, not deceased), I decided to draft a blog on my iPad (ie: a pad of paper I own). You know those bumper stickers that say "A dog is for life, not just for Christmas"? I've realised that the same is true for hot-cross buns!

The shops are currently heaving with trees, decorations, stockings and cards - which will all disappear after Dec 25th. But the hot-cross buns that came out for Easter are still with us. They've become an all-year treat.

Wouldn't it be great if the same was true for people's view of Jesus. He's not just for Christmas (a baby in a manger) but for Easter (a man on a cross) and for all of life (the King who rules). Jesus is for life, not just for Christmas.

The undeserving poor

Lots of discussion in the news at the moment about "the undeserving poor". Are there some people who don't deserve help and should be "getting on their bikes" to help themselves instead? How do we weed out the scroungers from the truly deserving?

The thing that struck me was the assumption that "the undeserving poor" is a label that people don't want - either because of the insult, or because it might mean they don't get anything.

How different it is for Christians. Because we know that we are the undeserving poor:

Undeserving: I'm just finishing off some sessions that I will be leading tomorrow at a training day on Grace. Our summary is that Grace is "an undeserved gift". God, in His mercy, doesn't treat as as we deserve. Instead, He accepts rotten sinners like me because of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ - an undeserved gift to all who put their trust in Jesus.

Poor: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." Matthew 5 v 3

It's great to be one of the undeserving poor.

Making generalisations about the generations

At the end of a blustery four-hour journey today, back from holiday, I squashed onto a packed commuter train; then gained great popularity by squeezing in a rucksac, suitcase and giant box of Lego with me. (More about the Lego in another blog...) As the train pottered along, people got off at each spot while others vied for their seats. Eventually there was only me left standing - my precarious pile of luggage wedged vertical(ish) with my knee - and that's when I saw them.

A twenty-something, who had been sitting for a while, saw a space open up opposite. She called to her boyfriend to come and sit down, but he didn't hear her - engrossed as he was in his iPhone. He was about ten feet away - but neither heard nor saw her beckoning signals. So what did she do? Shout louder? Pop over and get him? No, she sent him a text to tell him about the spare seat.

My initial thought was: "Isn't that just typical of the younger generation - too lazy to walk ten feet to speak to someone. There must be some deep moral there." But then I tried looking at it from another angle. Faced with a problem, the young woman had come up with an effective answer. She spotted where the bloke's attention was focused, and used it to her advantage. She wasn't being lazy - but ingenious. And I berated myself for making generalisations about the younger generation.

So taken with this scenario was I - and my thoughts on the implications - that I almost forgot to get off at my own stop. Which, of course, is just typical of my generation!

Why?

I love the free catalogues that you find tucked inside magazines. It's such fun seeing the stuff that other people buy! But one of them has me stumped. The motorised coin sorter. You throw your coins in the top, and it sorts them out for you, and tells you how much they're worth.

I've just done an experiment—emptied my purse, sorted and counted the contents. The coins add up to £9.33. It took me 19 seconds.

So who spends £30 on a machine to do it for them? And why?

Apparently it's a catalogue bestseller. I can only think that it must be men who need them…

The advent of…

I spotted two Playmobil Advent Calendars in a toyshop window. Great fun. Nicely made. A new figure or object to add to the 3D model each day of Advent.

One of them built Santa's Grotto. Ah well, a secular product, I guess you can't expect too much.

The other built a stable. Ah, that's better - even though a stable isn't actually mentioned in Matthew or Luke (Jesus was probably born in the animal's section of someone's house) - but at least we're in the zone of the biblical account.

Oops. No we're not. Great stable - lots of glowing horses and grooms to take care of them. Stalls for each animal. Plenty of tack. Even riding helmets (a 21st century nativity scene). But… no baby.

I always thought that Advent was about the coming of Christ: looking back to the time when He was born as a human being; looking forward to His return as King over all. But I must have got that wrong. To the delight of little girls everywhere, it's actually the advent of a riding school.

A ritual black tie

I was struck by this recent quote from the historian David Starkey:

Ritual is necessary. You want something to stand between you and the rawness of death. I'm a ritualised athesit; the big moments need marking.

I like the modern approach to funerals that sees them as a celebration of a life; an opportunity to look back fondly and with gratitude. But when it comes to "something to stand between you and the rawness of death", I don't want a ritual - I want a Saviour.

Sadness is normal

I've just read this BBC news article about regaining the variety of terms we can use for sadness, rather than overusing "depressed" for all of them. I do think we lose something by using umbrella terms - and that people are more able to understand and empathise if we are specific: grieving, bereft, discouraged, diminished, empty...

But sadly I can't agree with the underlying premise that depression no longer carries a stigma. One person commentating on the article says:

It annoys me when people think the stigma is being broken. You try dropping it into normal conversation and see the room act like you have just dropped a massive fart.

This is my experience as well: either an embarrassed silence, a few muttered platitudes, or someone who has also suffered from depression wanting to confide in you their every experience. Friends and colleagues - once they know and understand - have been fantastic. But I still fear "coming out" as a depressive to anyone new. The stigma is alive and well.

Unanswerable questions

The search engine "Ask Jeeves" has done a survey of the top ten "unanswerable" questions. Here they are, along with my suggested answers:

1. What is the meaning of life? To know the God who made us and loves us, and to have a right relationship with Him through His Son, Jesus Christ.
2. Is there a God? Yes! All creation points to Him (Romans 1 v 20) and all Christians should be pointing to Him too.
3. Do blondes have more fun? I don't know, but I've certainly had more people smiling at me since my hair went purple!
4. What is the best diet? Use up more energy than you eat.
5. Is there anybody out there? I'm a SciFi fan - but have to say that the most important person "out there" is God.
6. Who is the most famous person in the world? I don't know how "famous" is judged, but I believe that Jesus is the person who's had the most impact on the world, right down to the fact that we date our history from His birth.
7. What is love? "This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us." (1 John 3 v 16)
8. What is the secret to happiness? Peanut butter. (Or Philippians 4 v 12 if you prefer.)
9. Did Tony Soprano die? Dunno - but even if he did, it was probably just a dream someone had in the shower.
10. How long will I live? I don't know, but the Lord does (Psalm 139 v 16), so I try to live for Him and look forward to the day when I will see Him face-to-face.

I'm certain you can come up with some better answers though. Do please add them as comments - I'd find them helpful and I'm sure others will too.

The last "sin-eater"

I have to admit I'd never heard of a sin-eater until reading about them here. Apparently they were paid to eat bread and drink beer or wine over a dead body in the belief that they would take on the sins of that person. It sounds a worrying process to me: what if they skulked off early before eating enough, or all that beer made them sick? I'd much rather put my confidence in someone more trustworthy:

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.
1 John 1 v 9

The triumphal entry

After years of waiting, the moment is nearly here - the arrival of the promised religious leader. His destination is known, published in advance, and his mode of travel as well. The faithful will flock to welcome him, shouting his praises and waving whatever comes to hand. For many, this long-awaited moment will be one to treasure and look back on fondly for years to come. The culmination of all their hopes. Maybe this is the man to bring a troubled country back to God.

Rejoice greatly, O Daughter of Zion!
Shout, Daughter of Jerusalem!
See, your king comes to you,
righteous and having salvation,
gentle and riding a donkey,
on a colt, the foal of a donkey.
Zechariah 9 v 9

Oh, sorry - did you think I meant the Pope?

Knowing temptation

Came across a great quote this week by C.S. Lewis, where he points out that only people who try to resist temptation can know how strong it is.

A man who gives in to temptation after five minutes simply does not know what it would have been like an hour later. That is why bad people, in one sense, know very little about badness. They have lived a sheltered life by always giving in. We never find out the strength of the evil impulse inside us until we try to fight it; and Christ, because He was the only man who never yielded to temptation, is also the only man who knows to the full what temptation means.

C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

The root of anger

I've spent today doing a final proofread and corrections for Tim Chester's book Delighting in the Trinity (available soon from The Good Book Company). Along the way I came across this brilliant quote:

Let’s suppose I have a problem with my temper. Put me under pressure and I blow; I lose it; I fly off the handle. What would you say to me? Count to ten? Bite your tongue? It is good advice, but on its own it will not bring lasting change to my behaviour. We need to think what drives my temper. Maybe I need to feel in control and temper is how I exert control on a situation.

If so, then I need to be reminded that God is sovereign and He rules in love. Or maybe I feel insecure. If someone in my team at work fails, then I worry what others will think of me and so I blow. If so, then I need to be reminded that God in Christ accepts me through His grace. I do not need to justify myself because God has justified me. I do not need to fear others because God is the one I should fear. In both cases I have made an idol of myself. I want to control my world. I want to be in charge. But God is one. There is no place for other gods—especially not one like me!

Tim Chester, Delighting in the Trinity , p. 34-35

Sunday service

I enjoyed seeing this sign outside the pub at the top of my street. Someone there has a good sense of humour.



I can't help wondering, though, how they would react if a group from my church turned up with hymn books in tow and decided to sing a four-part-harmony grace...

What would your sign say?

I've walked past two churches today, both with big new posters hanging up:

The local Catholic Church:

"Pope Benedict XVI
We welcome you to the UK"

though I don't think he's planning on walking down our street…

The local Baptist Church:

"Building today for tomorrow"

plus an invitation to join them for services at a local school while their building is being rebuilt.

It made me wonder what signs we would hang up outside our children's or youth group.

"Everyone welcome" ?
"Meet the real Jesus" ?
"High-octane, action-packed, Bible-busting fun" ?
"Closed for the holidays" ???

Advice from the P_______therapist

PHYSIO-therapist: Cycling is good for your back, it stretches out the bits that get cramped and painful.

PSCI-FI-therapist: So long as you don't watch more than three episodes a night you're not addicted to sci-fi - just "enthusiastic".

PSEUDO-therapist: Just buy my book for £100 and all your problems will melt away.

PSORIASIS-therapist: You scratch my back and I'll scratch yours.

PSYCHIC-therapist: I see a definite aura rising from your blog - it appears to be purple.

PHOTO-therapist: Just give me a few minutes with Photoshop and you can lose those extra four stone.

PSYCHO-therapist: Why do you say "my specialist" or "my consultant" when you really mean psychotherapist, psychologist or psychiatrist? A mental-health condition is nothing to be ashamed of.

And yet - I find it easier to admit to having a Sci-Fi addiction, than to being mentally ill. Even after seven years...

Assembly line

Ok, so I'm a sci-fi fan - I admit it. (But I don't go to conventions, or own a Star Trek uniform, so that's OK.) And not only do I watch the films, but all the DVD extras as well. Yes, I know. Which is how come I've just seen how ILM (Industrial Light and Magic, for any of you non-Spielberg fans out there) used computer imagery to create a human body. They started by generating a precise 3D computer model of a human skeleton and built it up from there, adding muscles, attaching them correctly, and so on. The result is that you can see every bone rotate, muscle flex and sinew twist as the body moves. As one of the CGI specialists said: "We just followed the assembly guide".

Of course this took months of hard work, thousands of man hours, and gadzillions of computing power. And in the end, they didn't have enough computer power to make it perfect, so had to go for something that would "look perfect" on screen.

I couldn't help thinking of the author of that "assembly guide":

For you created my inmost being, you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. (Psalm 139 v 14)

And of course, the Lord does it all without any computers…

Dirty-looking pebbles

What do young people aspire to be? Pop star? Footballer? Or maybe a supermodel...

Naomi Campbell is in the news this week giving testimony at the war crimes tribunal of Charles Taylor, ex-dictator of Liberia. I guess that's what happens when you mix with the rich and famous. Initially she denied everything. Then tried to avoid being a witness. Now, in court, she has admitted being given three "dirty-looking pebbles" but says she didn't know who they were from (a statement likely to be contradicted by other witnesses next week).

I guess not so many are aspiring to be her right now. But what really caught my eye was a comment in today's Times:

...I say, laugh not at Naomi, for you laugh at yourself. Inside all of us is a good side ... but we know it's really just a thin facade. Because underneath there is our secret self, the one we hope no one will discover: the side that is childish, petulant and self-absorbed. (The Times, 7/8/2010, p21)

Hmm... If those "dirty-looking pebbles" were cut and polished they'd reveal themselves to be sparkling diamonds inside. But if our hearts are cut open - our "secret self" revealed - the opposite is true. The Times columnist may not know it, but Jesus said it first, and much better:

...from within, out of men's hearts, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly. (Mark 7 v 21-22)

If that was the end of the story, we'd be wretched people indeed., for "all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Romans 3 v 23) BUT, as Romans 3 goes straight on to say, "and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus." (Romans 3 v 24)

Without Christ, we are the opposite of those diamonds. Our hearts show what we're really like, the bits we hope no one will ever know about. But through Christ, we can have the joy of forgiveness. If we trust in Jesus, God looks at us and sees the purity and perfection of His Son. And one day He will welcome us into the new creation. Now that's really something to aspire to.

Name Game

I've just found a great new website to play with. It's from the National Trust and will show you the geographical spread (in the UK) of your surname in either 1881 or 1998. I already knew that Mitchell was a Scottish name - courtesy of my Scots dad - and the map bears out that it was common where I was born and bred even in the 1880s. But it's also strong in Yorkshire, where my mum grew up, and Devon and Cornwall, where most of my relatives live. So maybe Mum was predisposed to fancy a Mitchell!

There's no deep thought behind this blog - or a moral to draw out - I just thought it was fun. You can join in the fun for yourself here.

Purple prose

For three years this blog page has been black - chosen, I thought at the time, for its striking impact. Having just returned to blogging after a long gap, I realised how very... black... it looked. As black as my mood. Black as my thoughts. Black as the daily battle with depression. So...

I've gone PURPLE! :0)

Not that the depression is over - it's not, the battle rages on. But no matter how gloomy things get, the Lord is sovereign still and I can trust in His goodness. And that feels purple to me, not black.

And don't worry, I won't be blogging about depression all the time. Sometimes, yes, since people tell me it helps them understand those of us bonded to the black dog. But also odd musings, thoughts on children's and youth work, and stuff I couldn't help noticing. Starting with…

Three bits of post arrived together this week. A bank I no longer bank with told me details of their new overdraft limits (which I'd never used). A building society I do bank with offered me a loan (which I've never had or wanted). An electricity company told me how much I'd save by using direct debit, but based it on a family of four in a large house, rather than my minimal usage in my solitary flat. My reaction to all three was that these people hadn't bothered to find out anything about me, though they all had the information - so the letters went in the bin. And then I started wondering…

Do we do that with our Christian literature or events? Do we give girly tracts to women who hate shopping? Do we invite a neighbour to hear a Christian sportsman when they prefer gardening? Do we tell a bereaved friend about God's justice, when what they need right now is compassion? I was struck by how angry I was that those three institutions didn't bother to check who I was first. And challenged not to do the same when reaching out with the good news about Christ.

PS Yes, the photo IS deliberate!