Phew! It has been a long time since I posted on my blog, and it feels like the whole summer has just flown past me before I could blink.
How has it been for you?
Here in the UK we have had some of the hottest weather in living memory, and although it has been extreme for us, it hasn’t been as bad as elsewhere in the world. Japan has had it rough hasn’t it? Not only hot weather but earthquakes, tsunami, floods, wildfires… Speaking of wildfires, there seems to have been more of those around the world this summer too. I don’t remember a time when there were so many fires reported anywhere. The first one was one locally, on the edges of Saddleworth Moor which was quickly followed by one on Winter Hill. Both lasted for weeks and weeks because of the peat under the surface, and the smoke from both could be seen for about 40 miles away. Next came Californian fires and footage is still being shared online about the heroics of people battling to save lives and property during all of that.
After the fires here, came the “drought”. I put it into quotes because by world standards we were not in drought at all, but here in Manchester where we don’t get tanned in the summer but more chapped, the absence of rain for so long meant we started to get panicky about our drinking water levels. Reservoirs ran dry and a hosepipe ban was announced. Fortunately, before it could be implemented and just as our vegetable plots were about to burn dry completely, it was called off.
There was a spectacular side-effect of such a dry landscape though, and there were many reports of ancient earthworks being revealed in the parched ground. It is fascinating to see how our ancestors used our land before us and it makes me wonder what our descendants will make of their land after we have left our scars and marks behind too.
In personal news, I spent a glorious two weeks in Northumberland with my husband and my parents this summer. My two children were otherwise engaged (in the world of work) and it was a different experience being on holiday without them. Not better, not worse, just different.
And so, we’re here now at the start of September and new beginnings on the horizon. Well not actually on the horizon but here at the front door. Tomorrow is a big milestone, with the start of my ordination training. Those of you who have followed be for a while will know that this has been in development for the past couple of years, and you will know that I have been through a process of exploration, discussion, testing, interviewing and selection before I was approved to be trained. Some of it has been extremely deep and personally challenging, but it has been a transformative process for me which has brought me to this point. I look forward to that challenge and transformation to continue in the next couple of years.
So you are all caught up now. September has loomed large for me for a number of months now because of the massive step of starting my training, and now that it is here I feel I can let out that huge breath I took on New Year’s Eve. I have started separate blog to track my training and if you want to follow me there, please head over to m9ordinand.wordpress.com and click on the usual links to follow me. I will be writing on here too but the Mushy Cloud is still the random, eclectic stuff it always has been.
How was Summer for you this year? Were you affected by the heat? Did you see any of the wildfires? What’s your plan now for the Autumn? Drop me a line in the comments and let me know how you are getting on.
This text is taken from a talk I gave on the passage Ephesians 1: 3 – 14 yesterday at St Mary’s Church in Moston
In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, Amen
Have you ever felt that you don’t belong? That you shouldn’t be here, didn’t fit in? I’m sure that at some time or another, each of us has experienced a time or an occasion when we didn’t fit in or didn’t feel we belonged.
You may perhaps remember that feeling in primary school when everybody else seemed to get picked before you for team games or in the playground. I know that feeling very well too. Even when I had proved myself at rounders in primary school and was captain of the team (pictured below), when it came to my classmates picking sides for games or friends at playtime, I was usually one of the last. That feeling of not being good enough, of being embarrassed at being left standing there like a dummy. It’s not a nice feeling, never was, and it has shaped my life since.
If we look at Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, we can see that he has some reassurances for us; not only that we are we on God’s team, but we were picked to be on it at the start. God didn’t leave us waiting until the “best” had been chosen and he was just making up the numbers by choosing us. Not all all! In fact, the exact opposite. God chose us before we were even born. Not only that, but he chose us before the game was even invented, if you want to think of it like that.
How good is that?! That before the game – or the world – was even made, we were chosen by God to be one of his. If someone had told me at the age of 8 or 9 that I had already been chosen by God, I wonder how the shaping of my life might have been different.
Paul talks about adoption: God adopts us. He calls us his own through Jesus Christ. When we think of adoption, we perhaps think about parents adopting children as babies, and bringing them up as their own. And that’s great. That is one form of adoption, certainly.
But there’s a different way of thinking about the word adoption, which is tied up with the idea of being included. To be adopted is to be included.
You can’t have not known that the last four weeks have been filled not only with sunshine and dry weather, but the football World Cup competition has been on. It is an event that is of worldwide interest, and if you’re a Manchester City fan like me, you may well have had a special interest this time round. No less than 17 City players were playing in final stages. Seventeen! That’s a world record, by the way.
That’s seventeen players who all belong to their country – they play for their national team, speak their home language, hold a passport for their home country and presumably pay their taxes there; but as well as playing for their national teams, their working week is spent playing for their club here in Manchester, and they all live around here, their children go to school round here and so on. Whilst they are here, they may well adopt local customs or traditions, some may adopt a few words of the local dialect even. Can you imagine Sergio Aguero going to a chippy and asking for chips and gravy? Those players have adopted Manchester as their home, even though their home-home is in an entirely different country, and Manchester City Football Club has adopted them as belonging to it, as have the fans.
Here’s Riyad Mahrez signing his contract for City the other day. We can see he is in a City shirt, happily posing for photographs. If he hadn’t have been wearing City colours or if he’d been wearing his own shirt or something, we wouldn’t recognise that he belongs to that particular club. He needs those colours and that shirt as a sign that he is newly adopted, newly included at the club.
In his letter, Paul too talks about a sign that the people belong to God. He means the sign of the cross that is placed on our heads at baptism – a sign that we belong to God and that we are included as one of his people. But the cross that is placed on our foreheads when we are baptised is an invisible sign that we belong to God. How do people around you know that you belong to him? That you are his? How do you make visible the fact that you belong to God and have been adopted by him?
I don’t think there are many people with a tattoo of a cross on their forehead – how much simpler that might be! But there are ways to show that we belong to God, that we are one of his people. Life in God is signed, is shown, in different ways. We don’t walk round with huge placards saying “I AM GOD’s”. We don’t tend to introduce ourselves by saying things like “Hi I’m Pam, I’m a child of God!!” That would be weird in many situations.
So how do we show that we belong to God?
It might be the way we talk and the things we do. Do we gossip about other people, tell lies, complain and get angry about life not being fair? Or do we give people words of encouragement and love, sharing God’s truth and celebrating the blessings he has given us?
Do you think that people around you would know you belong to God by the way you act and speak? How would you go about making sure they do?
When you believed in the risen Christ, when you heard that message of truth about the gospel, you were marked with a seal – the Holy Spirit was given to you at the moment you believed. You were chosen by God before the world was even created, yet it was only at the moment you believed that it was sealed by the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is what marks you out as a child of God and who drives your actions and your words if you let him.
When you are adopted, included, in God through Jesus Christ, you receive untold riches and blessings. You are forgiven of all your sins, you receive the holy spirit, God’s energy and grace, and you are redeemed through Jesus Christ. It’s a forever deal – not a 5 year contract with the proviso “we’ll see how you get on in training before you make the full team”. No, when you are claimed by God, redeemed by Jesus, it is forever. There is no £88m transfer fee, no price to pay at all, Jesus paid it for you. When you were adopted by God, it was before life, throughout early life, and for life ever-after.
You belong to God. You are a child of God. You stand forgiven, redeemed, loved and cherished for life evermore, and he has claimed you for eternity.
Your challenge as you go from here is to work out how you show it to the people around you.
Today marks a very sad and poignant anniversary in my Manchester’s history. It was exactly 12 months ago today that a terrorist bomb was detonated in the Manchester Arena at the end of a concert given by Ariana Grande. In its aftermath, there was a tremendous outpouring of love and support, of music and poetry, of community coming together and a defiance that this horrific act would not stop Manchester and Mancunians being what we are and who we are. There was a determination that the very fabric of Manchester would be strengthened by this, not destroyed by it, and it would go down in Manchester’s history as just another thing that has happened to us.
You’ll notice I refer to my Manchester, and to us. That’s deliberate, because I am a proud Mancunian and I am so glad I was born in this wonderful place. This city runs in my DNA as much as my blood does, as it does with the million of other folk who get to call this city “home”.
I got to thinking about what being a Manc means, and how the demonstration of our spirit in these last 12 months can be an example to the rest of the world. Yes, we might seem to be territorial about our city, but it is a territory without boundaries and borders – anyone can call themselves a Mancunian so long as they play by the rules.
And the rules are simple:
Keep strong – in the face of adversity (and that includes the weather). You may be battered about, but Mancunians stay strong. Together.
Keep calm – get the job done, then go away and weep about it. You’ll find no hand-wringing here.
Keep it together – look after your mate, your brother, the stranger in front of you or next door to you.
Keep loving – don’t let hatred in, don’t let hatred win. Give love until it feels like you are going to empty yourself, then keep giving. It wells up from a deeper place and will only ever get bigger and stronger. Don’t look back in anger. Ever.
Keep singing – it’s what we do best. From the textile mills to the coal mines, on the canals, in the workshops, on the football terraces, in schools, in places of worship, on street corners, in clubs and bars, singing is what we do. It draws us together and anyone can do it. Let that song live within you.
If you can live by those 5 rules, you can come in and be counted as a Manc. Blue or red, doesn’t matter. Christian, Muslim or Jew, doesn’t matter which. Man, woman, child, adult, doesn’t matter. However you see yourself so long as you can do those 5 things you can be one of us and you will join the biggest set of mates you will ever know.
We might not get on from time to time and we know we have our problems – which city doesn’t? – but the thread that holds this city together has been woven over centuries and the people here all play by the rules. Most of the time.
So what can we teach the rest of the world? Manchester’s symbol is the bee. It symbolises our industrial past – the worker bees supplying the world with our produce and goods – and it has become a true icon of our great city particularly in these last 12 months. What the bee can teach the rest of the world is that true sweetness can only come from a lot of people all working together, not against each other, and Manchester’s lesson to the rest of the world is just that: let’s work together to make the world a sweeter place.
Today’s view from the PamCam – my current work in progress, progressing in the sunshine this glorious May Day Bank Holiday.
I would love to tell you that it is going “nicely” but the only nice thing about it is the peacefulness in the garden and not – sadly – the writing. I have my end of module assessment due in a couple of weeks and I’m struggling to get this story written.
The assignment is part creative fiction (4000 words) and the other is a reflective commentary (1000 words), and though I know what it is I want to write, getting the thing written within the constraints of the assignment is more of a challenge than I would like it to be. The scope of my planned story is probably more of a novel-length story, and to do justice to it in the short story of the required 4000 words is leaving me scratching my head. I know what needs to be said, I just don’t know the best way to say it.
I’ve not even started on my commentary yet, but as they say, you have to build the wall before you can decorate it! To continue that analogy, I am currently at the stage of assembling the bricks and getting the mortar to the right consistency and it feels like the actual construction is a way off yet.
Hey ho, it could be worse and it could be raining!
We are in the middle of a sermon series at my church just now and we are concentrating on mission and evangelism. I was privileged to be given the chance to preach this morning and I thought I would share with you the text of my talk (more or less) as I delivered it.
MAY MY WORDS BE SPOKEN AND HEARD IN THE NAME OF THE RISEN CHRIST JESUS, AMEN
Readings: 1 Peter 3: 8 – 22 & John 4: 1 – 30
“I wanna tell you a story”. A stoooooory. I think it was Max Bygraves who said that and I think he was on to something.
Stories are what make us human. They are absolutely integral to the experience of being a human being, and stories have knitted us together since the dawn of time. Our early ancestors shared stories to educate each other and to entertain each other, and the tradition of storytelling is central to every civilisation. When we talk about our past we talk about history – his story. Our stories are ways of sharing who we are.
We tell stories all the time, and by stories I want to make it clear that I don’t mean lies, or fabricated versions of the truth. That’s a different thing, and something that Peter reminds us of in our first reading today. Verse 10 – I’ll paraphrase “if you want to enjoy life and wish to see good times, you must keep from speaking evil and stop telling lies.”
A story is different. We all hear them, tell them, and we all have one. The urge to tell a story is right there at our very core. It’s how we share our lives, our concerns, our dreams, our hopes. But for some reason, many of us feel that when it comes to telling the story of our faith, we have some sort of a barrier or reluctance to tell it to others.
You may know that I am currently studying for my Master’s degree. I’m nearly at the end of my first year now, and my studies are all about the art of storytelling, whether it’s my own creations or other’s work. I am studying the way stories are told in books and short stories and those in film and plays. One of the things we talk about (and argue about) is the how of storytelling. Nobody argues that there is a need to tell them, but there are millions of opinions and interpretations of the best way to do it. It falls broadly into two categories, we can either tell stories or we can show them. The best novels and films do a bit of both and it is a balancing act every single time, but it’s something we can learn from when it comes to telling the story of our selves and our faith.
To illustrate what I mean, here’s a short clip of how actions speak louder than words. I want you to pay attention to what you pick up about his character from the way he acts this scene:
I showed a clip of a scene from “Frasier” where Niles was alone in the apartment waiting for his Valentine’s date. He spots an odd wrinkle on his trousers and decides to correct it by ironing it and then follows one of the funniest scenes I have ever seen on TV. There is no dialogue, only a music soundtrack and the odd word from him and a couple of barks from Eddie the dog. As the scene progresses we see Niles cut his finger, spill some cleaning fluid, set fire to his pants and then eventually set fire to the settee while Eddie enjoys the romantic meal Niles had cooked for his date. [I don’t want to risk any copyright issues by sharing the clip online].
I wonder when it comes to sharing your story with others, where do you stand on the spectrum of showing or telling? Not everyone is comfortable or confident in telling, but as disciples of Christ, the absolute very least we can do, is the showing bit.
I was invited to St Mary’s last Sunday to speak to the congregation there about my musical journey and how it intersects with my faith. I spoke about the small words of encouragement I received at vital times and how it didn’t really take a lot for a small seed of interest to blossom into this passion for music that I have held throughout my life. I find it so easy to talk about music – where it has taken me, the sights I’ve seen, the people I have met and so on, and I can talk for hours about what music does to me in terms of it being a prayerful activity, both playing it and listening to it. And yet, and yet, as confident as I am about talking about music and prayer, it seems that when it comes to talking about my faith journey it is so much more difficult. I get a bit embarrassed, I filter my own words before I speak, I try to pre-empt what people are going to think – especially if they are strangers and I don’t know what their reaction is going to be. When I think about the times I have felt the presence of God, when I know he has brought me through something particularly frightening or bleak, and I think about how to tell those stories, those filters that I apply to myself come into play. At best I think they’ll be bored and worst I think they’ll think I’m a nutter. Like in the bandroom, the word “Jesus”, if I say it out loud, seems to hover in mid-air for ages and sticks out like a sore thumb.
I will be a fluent faith story teller one day, but for now I’m still very much a work in progress.
Jesus himself told stories. He used parables – a type of story – to describe what God’s kingdom is like. We all know them: the kingdom of God is like this (buried treasure, a mustard seed, wise and foolish builders, the Samaritan).
So what about your story? Only you can tell it, only you has the words to share your story.
You might wonder what it is about your story that’s worth sharing. You might be sat there thinking – well I’m nothing special, nothing dramatic has happened in my life. You might think that it’s only people who have done the whole crash and burn and reborn thing that are worth listening to, or that people who have done the brave battles with major health problems or addiction for example that have a worthy story to tell.
But that’s just not true. We all have a story! We are all part of God’s wonderful creation and we all have faith in him. We must do, or we wouldn’t be here today. We might not feel like our faith is big enough or deep enough, but I assure you it is. Your personal story is part of God’s bigger one, and though may feel it is insignificant or even perhaps too broken to be part of God’s story, then think again. We are all part of this huge ongoing, unfolding story and the more we share it, the bigger it gets and the easier it gets to share.
We have to do it – we are commanded to do it. Jesus himself tells us to go out and share the good news. He told the Samarian woman at the well to go back and tell the others about her encounter with him, and he tell us the same thing. She felt that her life was doomed – with five husbands and being a Samaritan not a Jew, she felt unworthy, unloved, apart from things. But Jesus’ gift is not to set us apart but to make us a part of his story. To include and to enfold us, no matter how we feel our lives are going or where we have been.
It seems like a daunting task doesn’t it? To actively go out there to show and tell people that we are faithful followers of Christ, but we have to do it. Just as Niles couldn’t help but show us his character through his actions with his trousers, we can’t help but show our Christian character to the people around us. But, like in the silent movies of yesteryear, showing people is only still part of it. We do have to add words to our actions. Charlie Chaplin, that great silent storyteller of the early 20th Century, even he had to use cue cards every now and again to help the audience understand his story. Even he, the best silent movie star ever, had to rely on words. And so must we when we show/tell the story of our faith.
We do gain from the experience though, it’s not just a one way outpouring of “self” when we share our story. When we begin to open up about our faith and when we allow God to be reflected in our lives, it does a couple of significant things. First of all, it strengthens our own faith. I suppose you could look at it like practicing a musical instrument, or when you learn a foreign language or a new skill. The more you do it the easier it becomes and it in turn enriches your life and you want to do more of it. The same with sharing faith. It might feel difficult or daunting to begin with, but the more you do it the easier you will find it. After all, you are only ever being you.
The other thing is that when people see you reflecting God’s kingdom in your own life, whether it is through your actions or by the words you use, or the combination of both, it invites them in and offers them pathways to encounter God for themselves. For me, that is the whole point of mission, to invite others in for them to encounter God for themselves.
So to finish, your story matters, and the way that you share your story is down to you.
However we do it – whether it is the quiet ways of living our lives and the way we treat other people; our hospitality in the truest sense of the word, the way we turn from evil, the way we seek peace, showing that we are not afraid, by being gentle and respectful in accepting God’s will, even if it does mean great suffering, or whether it’s through a combination of words and actions, however we do it, we must do it. Peter laid it all out for us, and not only does he list the how of sharing our story, he reminds us of the why.
Christ suffered, not for his sins, but for ours. He was put to death so that we might live. That’s why we share God’s – and our own – story. It’s up to you how you balance your show and tell, but you can’t do all one and not the other. Going back to the clip we just watched, there is the use of music, the dog barks warnings, there is the odd word here and there. When it comes to telling our story, we have to use whatever tools or props we have to hand in the telling of it.
· We are convinced much more by stories than arguments
· Your own story is powerful and meaningful, because
Part of the Lenten discipline is to give – to charity, of your time, of yourself, help to others – and this picture represents one of those.
It’s not always possible for me to give cash to charity, but something that I’ve been trying to do is to crochet some hats to give to a homeless charity here in Manchester. They probably won’t be needed much now that the worst of winter has gone, but I have given some already and there will be some more to give when autumn comes around again later this year.
I wish I did have the cash to give, but like Jesus taught us, giving what you can is enough. Paul wrote of it too, and said: “For if the readiness is present, it is acceptable according to what a person has, not according to what he does not have” (2 Corinthians 8:12). Put another way Paul is saying that you should give in proportion to what God has given you. God has given me the gift of creativity and at the moment it’s the best way I can of contributing and making someone’s life better somewhere.
This verse from Deuteronomy reminds us that we ought not to take more than what we need, and to leave remains for those who cannot fend for themselves. A great reminder in our times of over-indulgence and greed.